The training season is coming to a close. We’re in the tapering phase where we rest and heal our bodies in preparation for the big day. On June 25 I will walk 13.1 miles in Seattle’s Rock N Roll Half Marathon. I haven’t posted much this season and I knew going into the training that walking a half marathon would be a far different experience than running my first ever marathon. For starters, I have already completed a couple of half marathons, including the Seattle Rock N Roll Half back in 09, so I pretty much know what to expect. And last year was so monumental for me in accomplishing one of my lifetime goals, that this season has been a much quieter, calmer experience.

Many runners experience post-marathon blues after they complete their first (or fastest or Boston or…) marathon. I did not have this experience after my marathon – mostly I was filled with a tremendous sense of gratitude and the enduring knowledge that we are all capable of fulfilling any goal we set our hearts and minds to. However, I will confess to feeling a little melancholy as I approach this year’s event. I guess it’s a little like climbing Mt. Rainier after having summitted Mr. Everest. Maybe it is because the anticipation is gone. The fear that you don’t know the outcome mixed with the excitement that you are really doing it is not present. You still have to train and work for it because nobody wakes up one morning and says I think I’ll stroll up to the summit of Mt. Rainier today, but it’s just not the same. Honestly, I feel a little ambivalent and even a little jealous as I watch my teammates fill with excitement over their first time at “the show.” Oh, it’s not stick my leg out and trip them jealousy. It’s more wistful and nostalgic and it brings back memories of when I was in their shoes.

So, why did I come back? I have proven to myself twice now that I can train for and successfully run a half marathon on my own. I don’t need Team in Training to complete this event and, frankly, I don’t need to prove to myself that I can do this at all. I could have stayed home and had a pleasant spring sleeping in on Saturday mornings. On the other hand, I can’t imagine myself not being here, not being part of this group. For one thing, there is still that pesky blood cancer that insidiously takes the lives of young people far too soon (and I include my 41 years young friend Gil in that group). Training with a purpose, training as a way to do something more than just 13.1 or 26.2 miles, is one way I can leave a positive ‘footprint’ in this world. Secondly, training in a group, with people cheering and supporting you, is far more rewarding than training alone – even if the act of running or walking is ultimately a personal one.

But that doesn’t really answer the question of why do endurance events. I’m not sure I actually know the answer. For whatever reason, they are simply in my blood. Or maybe I have a bit of George Mallory’s “because it was there” sensibilities. I have 2 weeks to go before completing this year’s event and I’m already asking myself what I think I might like to do next. I just finished reading Marshall Ulrich’s Running on Empty (thanks Mark Maraia for the recommendation), which lead me to watch Running the Sahara on Netflix, about 3 men who run across the Sahara desert. Brian left the room mid-way through because it was too hard for him to watch how these men abused their bodies, but I could not peel my eyes away. I have zero desire to run 2 marathons a day for 111 days in a row (in the desert no less), but do I walk another marathon? Maybe next year I could run the half? Dare I even consider walking an ultra event? There are no definitive plans at this point and I promised Brian the summer for the two of us to be active together, but come this fall I am sure I will get that unexplainable itch and will be out there on the trail again, chasing the next mountain - big or small.

Technically, it is the gentleman in this picture, posing with the "goods" from the candy raffle, Neil O'Shaughnessy. Or, I could say it is a "win" in the fight against blood cancer. But this past Saturday morning, a young woman spoke about her battle with blood cancer. One she thought she might have won, but after being a hair's breath from remission, she learned the battle in her body rages on. In particular, she spoke about being cancelled from her parent's insurance and how the money from Team in Training helped support a small portion of her family's costs. I continue to be extremely pissed off by this hideous sickness, and for that moment frankly embarrassed that I live in a place where young women like Ashley now have to try and figure out how to afford her treatments, not only how to survive this cancer. It sure puts my fund raising efforts in better perspective. It's not about candy or winning, it's about giving the Ashleys of the world a fair chance.

So, for those of you who donated to the raffle - THANK YOU. For those who haven't yet given, please consider making a donation so that young women can worry about what they want to major in or what they want to be when they grow up and not whether or not they can find a way to afford the treatment that will save their life.

Who doesn’t love a barrel full of candy?? For a $5 donation to my Team in Training account, you can take a guess how much candy is in this jar, and the person who gets the closest to the exact number, takes home the goodies! (And there is five bucks at the bottom of the jar, so if you win, you get your money back too!)

To Participate:

• Go to my Team in Training page and make a $5 donation (if you would like to give more and improve your odds, you get a guess for every $5 you donate)

• Enter your guess in the comments section (or email me the guess if you don’t want to share: lydakay@hotmail.com)

• All entries must be submitted by Earth Day on Friday, April 22

• I will deliver the jar to you anywhere in the greater Puget Sound Area on Saturday, April 23 (anyone out there who wants to guess from afar will need to cover their own shipping costs)

What if you don’t want a barrel full of candy? Hey, straight donations are always welcome! And, if you still want to take a guess at how much is in there, I would be happy to donate the goods to Children’s Hospital (kids love candy – and your donation will help fight blood cancer, so it’s win-win for these kids.)

Last year when I did the full-on marathon with Team in Training, I did the event in honor of my friend, Nick. Thinking about Nick’s journey to recovery helped keep my feet pounding the pavement far beyond when my brain had gotten tired of running and the rest of me wanted to go home. His story was an inspiration to me and I think knowing that he was alive and well was an element of that inspiration. As most of you know, this year I’m taking on a different challenge and trying to be a little more patient with myself as I walk a half marathon.

I considered not dedicating the training to anyone in particular, but my thoughts kept drifting back to my friend Gil. Unfortunately, Gil’s story does not have a happy ending – he died in 2008 from Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia at the age of 41, leaving behind a wife and 6 year old son. I have often commented on the brutality of the way Leukemia afflicts such young people, and I guess this situation isn’t really any different. Is it not just as brutal for a young son to lose his father? Sadly, when Gil passed away, I had not been in touch with him in almost 8 years and I had no idea he was living just across the state in Spokane, let alone battling Leukemia.

I met Gil when we were both in college at the University of Kansas. He was a graduate student in the Department of Geography and I was an undergrad working in the department office, also studying Geography. In some random way, I don’t really remember now, he also wound up living in the same apartment building as me and my then boyfriend (soon to be first husband), Steve. I guess because our daily lives intersected so much at both school and home, we spent countless hours together with Gil and his girlfriend, Lisa, who was also a friend. Gil was a night owl and would often call or show up at 10 or 11pm to see if we wanted to play Spades or Hearts, and I have many memories of long nights of playing cards and laughing until our faces ached.

You see, Gil was the oddest human being I have ever met. He enjoyed being outrageous to the point of being absurd. He told me once that he yelled out at some women in a car next to him, “I bet you don’t even sleep with the sheets on!” No one knew what that was supposed to mean, not even Gil. He loved to make crazy movies that also did not make any sense. I happen to have a few on VHS (that sadly I can’t watch any more since I no longer have a VCR) and in one he runs around the campus sneaking up on people with a large piece sheepskin on his head and filming their reactions. He was very hot headed and if he got mad during one of our card games, he would scream and yell and get red in the face, but a few nights later he would be knocking at our door again to play cards and as near as I can recall, we always played. He often accused me of having a ‘difficult’ sense of humor and would do things he thought were funny that I would often only find amusing. This would frustrate him to no end and he would get weirder and weirder trying to see if he could get me to actually laugh out loud.

After we all left college, we stayed in touch off and on over the years. I got married, then divorced, and spent many years of my career as a road warrior. There were countless times that I called Gil from some random hotel room and we would spend hours talking on the phone about nothing in particular. He would give me quizzes with questions like whether I thought it was funnier for someone to die by having their guts fall out or whether it was funnier for someone else to die by having guts fall on them. (Again, no one ever knew where he came up with this stuff or what it meant.) It was sometime during these years that I developed quite a crush on him. He was crazy, and handsome, as well as a very loyal friend. I saw him a few times when he lived in California and had high hopes for something more, but his feelings were always strictly platonic. I now admire his ability to maintain our friendship and still make it clear that he was never going to be interested in me in any other way, even if it frustrated me at the time.

We drifted apart and I met and married Brian. He lived in Japan and eventually married a Japanese woman, Keiko. He invited us to his wedding in Florida, which we attended (and I am now of the opinion that one should never pass up wedding invitations – it’s not the first time I have rekindled a friendship over a wedding invitation). In May of 2000 Brian and I planned a trip to China to visit my father and stepmother and decided to stop in Tokyo and visit Gil and Keiko. We did a few touristy type things, but my fondest memory of that trip was playing Hearts and laughing way into the night. That was the last time I saw Gil. We may have traded an email or two after that, but Gil wasn’t much of one for email and Japan was simply too far away for hours-long phone calls. Life moved on and we went our separate ways, although I always expected we would reconnect again as we had so many other times over the years. I had no idea he had started a family, no idea he had moved back to the US, and I certainly had no idea that he battled Leukemia for years, including some rather intense treatment sessions. Instead I learned of his death from his old girlfriend Lisa, who when we spoke simply said the world just didn’t seem quite right without Gil in it and she could not have said truer words.

So, my friends, cherish your friendships – reach out to someone you haven’t talked to in awhile (because you don’t always get second chances) and please make a donation to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society on my behalf, so that 6 year olds don’t have to lose their dad, wives don’t have to lose their husband, and friends don’t have to lose each other.

Walk on, Lyda

Well, here I go again - sort of...

Last June I had the good fortune to live one of my lifelong dreams and run 26.2 amazing miles in the Seattle Rock N Roll marathon in support of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. In the process I proved to myself that I (that anyone) truly can do anything we set our hearts and minds on. That knowledge will be a gift I carry with me for the rest of my life.

However, that being that "first" experience, anything else I do will inevitably pale in comparison. But I loved the training, loved meeting so many new friends (some of whom I have "kept" beyond just the event itself), and, yes, even loved those early morning dark and cold Saturday runs because the goal itself kept me moving and motivated. I also learned of the heartbreak that Leukemia and Lymphona strikes into the lives of many, and that it so often strikes young people. I almost could not bear how many 9, 10, 11 year old boys I learned were struggling with this hideous cancer during my 5 months of training (and, honestly, that particular aspect of this illness continues to piss me off).

What do I do with all that? I decided not to even try to compare last year to this year, but I knew I still wanted to participate. So, instead of running a marathon, I am walking a half marathon. I can't do that without training, but it will require me to acquire a new discipline as well - patience. It will allow me to savor the moments, smell the flowers, and take in a little more of the journey along the way.

I cannot begin to express the gratitude I felt at the generosity of my friends and family in donating on my behalf last year. It's not easy to come back and ask that you give again, but until there is a cure, there is still a need, so I humbly ask that you consider donating again.

Walk on,

Lyda