With the marathon just four weeks behind me, Life has continued full speed ahead making it feel much farther away. But in those four weeks, I've had a little time to process this amazing journey.

The Race

The day of the race, I woke up not wanting to even run. I was tired, the week leading up to the event had included long days and nights with parent-teacher conferences and a lot of stress. But I was there to run, and by God, that's exactly what I was going to do. In classic me style, I didn't think about doing anything cute or fun until that morning. My TEAMmates had spent hours decorating their race jerseys to highlight honored patients they were running for, brightly colored paint and pictures splayed across back after back as I walked tothe start line. My jersey, with a single picture of the woman I ran for with her name printed in tidy letters adorned my back. I didn't yet know how impactful this seeming oversight on my part would impact my run. Though I suddenly wished I had a least brought a hot pink hair bow for my pony tail, I began.

The race started easily enough. I always have to pee early in a run, so I took advantage of my early start time and used every portapotty that I came across while they were still stocked with toilet paper and hand sanitizer. Around mile 3, it hit me that this was no ordinary run, and that THIS was what I had worked so hard for. My mood lifted, and I enjoyed the run through the "cheer zone" at mile four, stopping for a short minute to dance with the DJ bumping beats from a huge sound system. I wish I had a picture of that moment. I felt so strong, so free, so completely me in that moment. And I realized just how much I loved this whole experience. I realized THIS is what I was made to do.

That was probably the last time I smiled for the remainder of the race. I saw my coach Louise right before mile 6, and she made me promise to walk the hills, take them nice and slow and save my strength. Her insistance haunted me over the next SEVEN miles which were all uphill. This stretch, right before the end of the half marathon route, was incredibly discouraging. Having promised to walk the hills, I lost track of my intervals, and ended up walking more than I had trained to do. By the time I reached mile 13, I was ready to quit. This was not what I had trained to do. This was not the race I had planned.

But, then, life is never what we plan.

It was around this time that runners began their encouraging remarks (while running past, of course.) One thing I realized is that this community, those that run, are incredibly kind and caring. They would make small comments as they ran by, slowing to ask how I was doing. But it was when they called my name that made me break into tears, and made me keep going.

Remember how I only put one picture on my back, with Sandi's name above it? "Good work Sandi, keep it up!" "Looking good, Sandi." "You go Sandi! Looking strong. Almost there!" These small remarks at first confused me. Who? Are the talking to me? But their meaning suddenly struck me as monumental. I was not out here running just for myself. I was here, and just so happened to be running, for Sandi, a woman who's strengthfar surpasses mines everyday. A woman who right then was accomplishing more than I would every day simply by living her beautiful life in spite of a disease trying to take it.

I have told many that I cried for nearly the last ten miles of that race. And it's true that it was difficult, that I wanted to quit, that I was hurting in ways that I had never hurt before. But in reality, I cried for the incredible honor of running for someone so much stronger than I. A phrase kept coming to me, as it sometimes does when I face a challenge. "Finish with excellence." Not only for myself, but for Sandi who is really the one striving for a victory.

There is so much more to say. But it pales in comparison to this one incredible experience. I thank all those that donated, all those that encouraged me, and those that offered up prayers and thoughts while I trained. I ask you turn those thoughts and prayers to Sandi who is still running her race.

I did it! And YOU helped me. Once all the checks on their way to LLS are cashed, I will have reached my fundraising minimum thanks to the generous support of my friends and family. THANK YOU SO MUCH!

What this means is that I officially get to fly To San Francisco to complete the Nike Women's marathon! This past weekend, I ran the furthest I've ever run before, finishing 20 miles. I am so excited to push myself one step harder to do the full 26.2 miles, with Sandi backing me up. Literally! Participants run with pictures of their honored patients on their race jersey. Because of treatments and the every day battle of fighitng Lymphoma, I have yet to meet Sandi. But it doesn't matter, because she'll be running with me on October 16th.

What this means for LLS is that they now have that much more to put toward research to end this disease. Patients should never run out of options. Families should never struggle to care for children and a sick parent. People should never go a day of life feeling like death. LLS seeks to end all that. And you will help them get there!

Thank you for your continued support. If you had planned on donating but missed out on your chance, there's still a way to help. My friend Wendy and her family are in the process of ending treatment for her husband Phil and making him as comfortable as possible. Put your time and effort toward a family who has seen what this disease can do and help them out if you can.

Click here to see if you can help Wendy and Phil.

Thank you Boise! More than 60 people donated to Kristin and I at Alive After Five tonight in BoDo. The winner of the 50/50 raffle is....BILL! Bill decided to donate his winnings to LLS, so Kristin and I are one step closer to San Francisco, and LLS is $312 closer to a cure!

Thank you, Boise!

I am 18 days away from running my first marathon, and just 3 days away fromneeding to meet my fundraising goal.

I feel physically prepared, but am worried I will not find the other $500 for my fundraising minimum. This money does NOT go to me. This money goes to life saving research and patient support that families rely on when fighting this horrible disease. But don't take my word for it..

Take Jennifer's...

Take Susanne's...

Take Janet's...

Take Byron's...

One of my TEAMmates', Wendy, husband is battling Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. The battle has continued this summer and she recently posted this:

"Phil sees his oncologist again tomorrow. It's been 2 weeks since his last treatment. there doesn't seem to be improvement. His eyesight is continuing to decline, with trouble focusing on one image. also, his muscles are affected, so he doesn't see straight. I cannot imagine what that must be like. No wonder he stumbles and has poor balance and coordination. He is still too stubborn to use the walker I brought home. He sleeps a lot and rarely gets out of the house. He could really use some visitors!"

your donation is going to help very REAL people battling these very REAL diseases. And you offer very REAL hope of finding a cure for blood cancer with your donation. Please donate today. Just a few dollars really will make a difference!