today is bouv's birthday. it's also "september eleventh" and this is a repost from my first marathon.
i personally am having a sad day today. i've been thinking about bouv for a lot of the day. i'm tired and emotional (i'm traveling for work). it's "that day" which is always weird and terrible. and i'm feeling sorry for myself because there's no running for me right now. the word is official - i have two stress fractures and will not be able to run the marathon. i don't want to dwell on this right now but i do want to let you, my people know "officially" what is up and why there have been no posts of late.
so where i usually am able to muster a cheerful face and find some bright sides, i'm feeling sad and blue. so i decided to go back to that first bouv birthday run and read what i wrote. i did and it made me feel better. it's got the strength i wish i had today but don't and so i thought why not post it again - because it all rings true.
september 6th, 2006
september 11th is a day that it seared into the memories of americans and world. it was, as the newspapers are saying, new york's darkest day. on september 11th, 2001 i had been living in new york for a little over a year, working on the west side in chelsea at my first advertising agency. i have many surreal memories of that day and the days and weeks following, and truth be told, in years past, just the mention of the date makes me cringe. but this year, while i will not (nor do i want to) forget the tragedy that took place 5 years ago today, i choose to celebrate a more joyful event that took place 30 years ago today.
on september 11, 1976, steven bouvier was born. what i'm sure was an adorable bundle grew up to be a man, a husband, a chemist, a skiier, a scholar, an uncle, a son-in-law, a brother-in-law, a friend, and a vermont-enthusiast. he was, by birth, a son, a little brother, a nephew, a cousin, a "bouv" and a red sox fan, and i know that he excelled in all categories. he grew an infectious smile, a certain swagger in his lanky walk, a great sense of humor, long hair, and the accent we all know and love.
when i was running today, at first it was really hard to tune out the dark implications of the day. there were cops not just on the big bridges, but the little footbridges that cross the FDR. the southbound side of the FDR was blocked off, and the constant buzz of the news and police helicopters were nearly impossible to ignore. but after i got my rhythm, i was able to tune them out and think about steve.
a few weeks ago, i was watching a very very cheesy girlie movie with my sister. ( if, by the way,after i describe this you know what movie i'm talking about, you lose all rights to mock me for watching it.) in this movie, one of the characters, a 12-year-old girl, has leukemia. her friend asks her if she is afraid, and she says not of death, but of time. she was afraid that she wouldn't figure out who she was, wouldn't have time to make her mark on the world.
bouv knew who he was, and there is no question that he made a mark on the world, especially if that mark is measured in the number of people you touched and that love you.
happy birthday bouv.
Showing posts with label bouv. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bouv. Show all posts
Friday, September 11, 2009
Thursday, September 11, 2008
hello, bouv
hello bouv,
a little note to wish you a happy birthday, my friend!
i had one of those mad days at work, the sort of day that you contemplate going out for a coffee and just keep walking.
when i finally left, the sun had gone down, and tribeca was quite. as i reached the corner of the block, there were those two beams shooting from that not-place not far downtown.
those beacons...reminders for so many of only one horrific day...for me are a bright white shining reminder of your birthday.
and so all that sadness that surrounds my city, i can recognize and put aside for a bit, because i have a model-shit-eating-grin to carry with me when things get bumpy.
miss you always,
rox
a little note to wish you a happy birthday, my friend!
i had one of those mad days at work, the sort of day that you contemplate going out for a coffee and just keep walking.
when i finally left, the sun had gone down, and tribeca was quite. as i reached the corner of the block, there were those two beams shooting from that not-place not far downtown.
those beacons...reminders for so many of only one horrific day...for me are a bright white shining reminder of your birthday.
and so all that sadness that surrounds my city, i can recognize and put aside for a bit, because i have a model-shit-eating-grin to carry with me when things get bumpy.
miss you always,
rox
Monday, March 31, 2008
bouv
because of all the new readers (hi new readers!), i have pulled to the front a post that in part was written as part of my first marathon. it is the story of why i run.
i am running marathons in memory of my friend steve bouvier. we called him bouv. i met bouv in 7th grade, in science class. he was the nicest guy we all knew. he was always smiling. growing up, it was always steve and the girls - he was the only guy that was allowed to hang out with all the girls. bouv was the guy that you were always keeping an eye-out for a good girl to set him up with (until he snagged jeanne). we were friends through high school and college, through break-ups and living in different states. bouv always had your back. he had the thickest massachusetts accent of all our friends - there was nothing like going for "beahs" with bouvier. he loved skiing, and vermont, and his family, and chemistry, and jeanne, and also us brimfield girls.
when bouv was diagnosed with hodgkin's he was optimistic. he showed no fear. he told us all that it was "the kinda cancer you want to get if you get cancer". the survival rates were high. his calm way of talking about it put the rest of us at ease. we all knew he was going to beat it.
through the years, bouv's disease seemed be on a roller coaster. he'd get better and then he'd get sick again. throughout, he never seemed down about it. over thanksgiving and christmas breaks, he'd play designated driver and we'd hit the local bar as we always had. he had a few bone marrow transplants, and they seemed to help, but he never got completely better. i had moved to new york, and so at those periods that he'd have to go in the hospital for treatments, i never saw him. i only ever saw the healthy bouv.
bouv met a girl named jeanne. and she was fantastic, and we were all happy that he had found such a wonderful girl. they fell in love. and before one of his more experimental treatments, they got married in vermont, in a little ceremony with just their families. we got the pictures and he looked so happy. the hodgkin's could not wipe the signature bouv-grin off his face.
last year, in early october, a few days before i was taking off for a three-day charity bike ride, we got an e-mail from jeanne. steve was really sick again, and his body could not handle any more chemo. he and jeanne and his family decided that bouv would go into hospice. i confess, i didn't know what hospice was. when i asked a friend at work, they said that hospice is not about getting better, it's about managing pain.
i was bewildered and shocked. how could...but he wasn't that sick...but not bouv. in two days i had to on the bike ride, and was so scared that i was not going to make it to massachusetts to see him, before...i couldn't even say it. i got a friend to scan a picture of bouv and the brimfield girls - it was his favorite - a photo that he would take with him to the hospital when he got treatment, and throughout that ride, i kept that photo close, making that ride for him, drawing on the strength he had to keep going.
the following weekend, i decided to go up to massachusetts on sunday to see bouv. when i went into the living room, i'm not sure that my face hid what i felt. he simply looked so much older than the last time i saw him. too old for his years. i sat in his living room with jeanne and his family, and we talked, catching up. he was on a lot of pain meds, patches and such, that jeanne lovingly handled with a quiet strength that i'm not sure that i possess.
before i knew it, it was time for me to catch a train. i went over and hugged bouv and said goodbye, and said "i'll see you next week, okay?" and his reply was a firm "definitely." i didn't cry until i got in the car.
a few days later steve died. after feeling the sorrow, for steve, for jeanne, for his family...the next worst thing was the guilt. i should have been there more often. visited. why didn't i realize? i wasn't a good friend, how did i not know this was going to happen and spent more time with bouv.
and so, almost a year later, when i decided it was time to do some new charity activity, i wanted to do something for the leukemia & lymphoma society. i came to a tnt info meeting looking for a bike ride. and as i sat there, sad and inspired and wanting to do *something*, looking at the bike rides and thinking...they're too short (they were "only" day rides of 100 miles)...a flicker of insanity sparked. a marathon? no way. there's no way i can. but then i couldn't let it go, because i knew if i had it in me to do this, if i did, i could probably only do it for a damn good reason. and in bouv;s memory seemed like a damn good reason.
that's how i began running marathons. last year i successfully completed the phoenix arizona and san diego marathons, and the paris marathon will be my 3rd.
i'm trying to raise $20,000 in just one week through $10 donations as part of my fundraising efforts for the leukemia and lymphoma society in memory of bouv. if you are at all inspired, please consider a donation http://www.active.com/donate/tntnyc/roxie. no donations are too small!
i am running marathons in memory of my friend steve bouvier. we called him bouv. i met bouv in 7th grade, in science class. he was the nicest guy we all knew. he was always smiling. growing up, it was always steve and the girls - he was the only guy that was allowed to hang out with all the girls. bouv was the guy that you were always keeping an eye-out for a good girl to set him up with (until he snagged jeanne). we were friends through high school and college, through break-ups and living in different states. bouv always had your back. he had the thickest massachusetts accent of all our friends - there was nothing like going for "beahs" with bouvier. he loved skiing, and vermont, and his family, and chemistry, and jeanne, and also us brimfield girls.
when bouv was diagnosed with hodgkin's he was optimistic. he showed no fear. he told us all that it was "the kinda cancer you want to get if you get cancer". the survival rates were high. his calm way of talking about it put the rest of us at ease. we all knew he was going to beat it.
through the years, bouv's disease seemed be on a roller coaster. he'd get better and then he'd get sick again. throughout, he never seemed down about it. over thanksgiving and christmas breaks, he'd play designated driver and we'd hit the local bar as we always had. he had a few bone marrow transplants, and they seemed to help, but he never got completely better. i had moved to new york, and so at those periods that he'd have to go in the hospital for treatments, i never saw him. i only ever saw the healthy bouv.
bouv met a girl named jeanne. and she was fantastic, and we were all happy that he had found such a wonderful girl. they fell in love. and before one of his more experimental treatments, they got married in vermont, in a little ceremony with just their families. we got the pictures and he looked so happy. the hodgkin's could not wipe the signature bouv-grin off his face.
last year, in early october, a few days before i was taking off for a three-day charity bike ride, we got an e-mail from jeanne. steve was really sick again, and his body could not handle any more chemo. he and jeanne and his family decided that bouv would go into hospice. i confess, i didn't know what hospice was. when i asked a friend at work, they said that hospice is not about getting better, it's about managing pain.
i was bewildered and shocked. how could...but he wasn't that sick...but not bouv. in two days i had to on the bike ride, and was so scared that i was not going to make it to massachusetts to see him, before...i couldn't even say it. i got a friend to scan a picture of bouv and the brimfield girls - it was his favorite - a photo that he would take with him to the hospital when he got treatment, and throughout that ride, i kept that photo close, making that ride for him, drawing on the strength he had to keep going.
the following weekend, i decided to go up to massachusetts on sunday to see bouv. when i went into the living room, i'm not sure that my face hid what i felt. he simply looked so much older than the last time i saw him. too old for his years. i sat in his living room with jeanne and his family, and we talked, catching up. he was on a lot of pain meds, patches and such, that jeanne lovingly handled with a quiet strength that i'm not sure that i possess.
before i knew it, it was time for me to catch a train. i went over and hugged bouv and said goodbye, and said "i'll see you next week, okay?" and his reply was a firm "definitely." i didn't cry until i got in the car.
a few days later steve died. after feeling the sorrow, for steve, for jeanne, for his family...the next worst thing was the guilt. i should have been there more often. visited. why didn't i realize? i wasn't a good friend, how did i not know this was going to happen and spent more time with bouv.
and so, almost a year later, when i decided it was time to do some new charity activity, i wanted to do something for the leukemia & lymphoma society. i came to a tnt info meeting looking for a bike ride. and as i sat there, sad and inspired and wanting to do *something*, looking at the bike rides and thinking...they're too short (they were "only" day rides of 100 miles)...a flicker of insanity sparked. a marathon? no way. there's no way i can. but then i couldn't let it go, because i knew if i had it in me to do this, if i did, i could probably only do it for a damn good reason. and in bouv;s memory seemed like a damn good reason.
that's how i began running marathons. last year i successfully completed the phoenix arizona and san diego marathons, and the paris marathon will be my 3rd.
i'm trying to raise $20,000 in just one week through $10 donations as part of my fundraising efforts for the leukemia and lymphoma society in memory of bouv. if you are at all inspired, please consider a donation http://www.active.com/donate/tntnyc/roxie. no donations are too small!
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
san diego marathon: the race - miles 13.1 - 26.2
(EDITOR'S NOTE: Sorry this took so long. The telling of the tale is better for the wait though, promise.)
as ramon said, it was starting to get warm. the sun was not yet out, but you could feel the tempurature rising. i was feeling more and more settled in my run, my shin splints not showing up to play, and as nervous as i was, i was now kind of...excited. i'm not sure if it was the pep talk or because there was no turning back, but suddenly i felt optimistic. this *was* possible. more or less.
at mile 14 they had salt packets and i thought that i should pretty much do anything that could possibly safe-guard against any sort of obstacles (that included but were not limited to dehydration, hyponatremia, reoccurrance of shin splints, and hitting the wall). i grabbed a packet and washed it down with a little water. the accelerade was disgusting, so i thought this was a smart move to keep the electrolytes in balance. yummy.
soon after i saw one of our training captains, ross. he ran with me for a bit and offered me more salt (no thanks!), and reiterate the importance of hydration. soon after...mile 15. it think that around mile 15 mentally is pretty tough in a marathon, because you've already run a great distance, but you still have another 11+ to go. i just kept truckin. the crowds kept me going. the adrenaline that i was actually doing it kept me going. remember...i didn't have any music so it was just me, myself and i. every once in a while i would see another tnter out there and we would exchange a hello and a wave and keep on keeping on. we ran through a little neighborhood where a family band was playing classic rock and the kids were handing out orange slices. i was still feeling good when i arrive at mile 16 right around the bay...and gleefully thought "only 10 more miles!!!" as another band crooned the same, changing up yet another bad cover.
mile 16 brought us to the bay for a bit and the sun was breaking through the clouds. before i knew it we were approaching the powergel station at mile 17 (another one down, feet don't fail me now!). they had every single kind (hooray!) and i grabbed another double latte flavor (my favorite! 2x caffine + 4x sodium!), knowing i'd probably need another kick at the end.
indeed it was getting hotter. at each water station i began getting two cups of water, one to drink and one to dump in my hat. mile 18 wound through what seemed like the more...young/collegiate section of town. it was still earlyish (probably around 10?) and there were tons of people out drinking and enjoying the marathon spectacle from their yards and decks. one guy was so rowdy and tossing beer around that i actually felt a little nauseous because i got a huge whiff of cheap beer. ewe. banners, balloons, silly string, music...in fact sweet child o' mine, which was one of my *favorite* songs for a moment in time somewhere around 1988. i smiled, thinking of my mom who often remembers me shushing her in the car when this song was on so i could sing at the top of my lungs.
mile 19...and a little way in...brooke! yay! brooke was a mentor with us for the season but was injured early on and wasn't able to run the event. but she was still out there cheering for us. i spotted her shouting for another tnt person and realized it was her and shrieked! she shouted, dropped her bag and sign and ran with me for at least 1/2 a mile. it was really great to see someone at that moment, becauase i had been on my own for so long and a friendly face and some chatter was a great distraction.
it felt like just after i left brooke, and after a kinda gross bridge hill, and there was steve, the "young coach" at mile 20! he was on his phone and i waved frantically "i gotta go," he said with a big smile, "roxie just got here!" i smiled back and he said "okay, if you feel as good as you look, i am not going to worry about you at all."
"i do have a good game face."
"you look great, seriously, i don't know how but you do!"
"i'm not asking questions, just going and going!"
"okay so, here's how the rest of the course is going to go. in a few miles you'll see lisa so keep an eye out and then there's one more little hill-"
"bigger than the one i just ran up?"
"no! compared to this one that one is-"
"an incline?"
"exactly! so then after that there's a bit of a down and back, and don't get freaked out when you see the people coming back towards you, just think that you'll be coming back in that direction soon, it's not that long-"
"okay, down and back, easy easy."
"and then you're just about done."
"okay okay, i can do this."
"i am *so* proud of you roxie, just stay hydrated you're going to be fine!"
he patted me on the arm and i was off again!
the next few miles were kinda gross...off the main roads, there was no more june gloom and the sun was beating down on us, making it really hot and there was no shade in sight. i could definitely feel the heat and dumped a cup of water right on my head this time. i saw a porta-potty with no line and figured i'd better pee while the peeing was good. some people were out with a cooler of beer and i saw a guy run past, then change his mind and go back for one, and for a moment i wished i was that hard core.
somewhere in there was the mile 21 marker...no sign out there...and then yay! mile 22 - a little over 4 miles! less than an hour! even if i was going slowly! i could see the little down and back steve had told me about. there was great music blasting from a radio, tons of people, then a pretty good band, and a guy with a hose spraying it in the air. i dont't think it could have gotten better than that in that moment. i ran directly under the hose and cooled off some more.
i guess you're wondering how i was feeling physically, and really, the answer is oddly good. my feet definitely were bearing the brunt of the pain - part of marathon training is actually getting your feet used to all those miles, and i think they were suffering the most for my lack of running. my shins were fine. my back was a little tense but the man with the big signs that said "relax your shoulders!!" kept inspiring me to draw my shoulders back and keep my arms and hands from tensing up. i was really good about trying to conserve as much energy as possible and being as good to my body as possible, "behaving" as ramon says. not charging up or down hills, drinking tons of water, taking gels promptly, saying loose and remembering to breathe.
the next friendly face was lisa, the brooklyn coach. her face was shocked - happy, but shocked probably 1) to see me so soon and 2) and to see that i wasn't a crashing, broken-down runner.
"roxie! - what the hell!!?"
"i know! i know!"
"what are you doing here so soon!?"
"i don't know!"
"seriously, you're looking great?! how do you feel?"
"i feel okay actually!"
"well, we're still not going to be publishing your training plan."
"yeah, i mean, honestly, i don't know how but i think it's gotta be bouv watching over me a little bit because you and i both know i should not be doing this well!"
"aweeeeeeee don't make me cry now."
"haha"
"roxie, wait, what was your time in phoenix??"
"5:11"
"do you know what time it is?"
"no...i decided to run without my watch."
"wow! good for you well, don't get too excited but by my watch i've got 4:22!!"
at this point i emitted a high-pitched sound that's probably akin to one of a wounded animal but was all excitement, and i'm not going to try to type it. use your imagination.
"okay, maybe i shouldn't have told you that!"
"pr! a pr?!"
"okay roxie, just keep doing whatever it is you're doing, only a few more miles to go, and before you know it you're going to see ramon with that damn cow-bell."
"thank you lisa! you're the best!"
"kick ass girl! see you at the finish!!"
lisa ran me just about to the mile 23 marker and ran to chat with another participant. and now, visions of pr's (personal records) danced in my head. a pr!? i was on the road to a pr? i laughed a little hysterically to myself. whether or not i made it, i was high off the fact that after all the stress and struggle and decisions of the last two weeks, going back and forth, agonizing over making what was, i think, at the time a wise decision not to run, to my emotionally-driven lunacy in deciding to go for it...and here i was, about 3 miles away from the finish, not feeling horrible, and possibly going to run this marathon in record time. a shit-eating grin that could almost match bouv's pretty much stayed plastered to my face for the rest of the run.
mile 24...2+ to go! less than 30 minutes! i think for me, this is the other difficult part of the race. you are so tired, and yet so happy you have so little left to go that you're trying to run fast, and yet, you're body is not really cooperating...well, at least mine wasn't. the closest thing i can equate it to is in a dream-state when something is chasing you and no matter how much effort you are putting in you are running as though you're in slowmotion or quicksand. i gritted my teeth and focused on my arm movement...nice and light...if your arms are moving your legs are moving, one step at a time, focus on the crowds, cheer for other tnt folks and there it is...mile 25.
1.2 miles!! if i had the energy i might have leaped for joy. instead i had a glass of water. much like in the last marathon, i took these final moments to think about why i had gotten myself here.
i thought about bouv, and how he was probably really laughing his ass off this time at my stubbornness. i know, i just know that he was there with me that whole race, a little angel on my shoulder. i really have little to know explanation of how i could have made it otherwise. you can give me the "you're stronger than you think" bit, and how the rest probably did me good, mind over body and the amazing properties of adrenaline, and i might agree with you to a degree. but even if i did "behave" and all the circumstances were lined up just perfectly for me to succeed, what happened out there was a little bit of a miracle and i just simply know bouv was a part of it.
i thought about anthony, the husband of a former co-worker, who is a runner, and recovering from his bone marrow transplant and what he would give to be out running. we're going to be doing a 4-miler together soon - he is so anxious to get back out there and he really wants to run a Team in Training event. He's such an inspiration. I thought about all the stories of friends' parents and friends and cousins, both happy and sad, all the people who have been touched by these blood cancers. i thought about jill, the woman that spoke before our run and about how elating crossing the finish line will be for her. i thought about all of the people that supported me for the first marathon...all 170 of them ;) and how thankful i am to have such a fantastic network of friends new and old behind me. demps, charlotte, sk8, cap, the rookie...all amazing people who play a part in the story...and then there it was!! MILE FREAKING 26!
.2 miles...probably 2 minutes. we approached the military base that was the end of our race. because it was "a secure area" there were guards making sure everyone that was running in had numbers on. i saw a guy who was running with his girlfriend get stopped and pulled off to the side, and while i get it, it made me ~sigh~ to myself. no time for politics now! run run run girl run! crowds of people on the right hand side...people lounging and enjoying post-run beers, families with signs, balloons...and look an archway! the finish....
no. a tease! that's *just* mean. it's funny how the last little bit is so long, i just wanted to GET THERE already. to see ramon with that horribly annoying bell. and there, finally! THE END. bleachers with hoards of cheering people. and ramon!! he came flying to my side ringing that bell like a madman.
for this "conversation" you can just picture me pretty much giggling hysterically throughout while ramon talked...
"look at you!!! you freaking did it!!! i am so FREAKING proud of you, so freaking proud! you behave and look! you here! you finish! you look AMAZING and SMILING. you learn such an important lesson today, you never doubt you-self again, you hear me? never again! and look! look up at the clock! what was you time for arizona!?"
squeeked through giggles "5:11"
"LOOK AT THAT! 4:55 - FREAKING 15 MINUTES PR! PR! you go finish, i am so so freaking proud of you!"
and those words brought me to tears as i finally cross that balloon-studded finish line, rockin' a 4:56:01 on the clock.
as ramon said, it was starting to get warm. the sun was not yet out, but you could feel the tempurature rising. i was feeling more and more settled in my run, my shin splints not showing up to play, and as nervous as i was, i was now kind of...excited. i'm not sure if it was the pep talk or because there was no turning back, but suddenly i felt optimistic. this *was* possible. more or less.
at mile 14 they had salt packets and i thought that i should pretty much do anything that could possibly safe-guard against any sort of obstacles (that included but were not limited to dehydration, hyponatremia, reoccurrance of shin splints, and hitting the wall). i grabbed a packet and washed it down with a little water. the accelerade was disgusting, so i thought this was a smart move to keep the electrolytes in balance. yummy.
soon after i saw one of our training captains, ross. he ran with me for a bit and offered me more salt (no thanks!), and reiterate the importance of hydration. soon after...mile 15. it think that around mile 15 mentally is pretty tough in a marathon, because you've already run a great distance, but you still have another 11+ to go. i just kept truckin. the crowds kept me going. the adrenaline that i was actually doing it kept me going. remember...i didn't have any music so it was just me, myself and i. every once in a while i would see another tnter out there and we would exchange a hello and a wave and keep on keeping on. we ran through a little neighborhood where a family band was playing classic rock and the kids were handing out orange slices. i was still feeling good when i arrive at mile 16 right around the bay...and gleefully thought "only 10 more miles!!!" as another band crooned the same, changing up yet another bad cover.
mile 16 brought us to the bay for a bit and the sun was breaking through the clouds. before i knew it we were approaching the powergel station at mile 17 (another one down, feet don't fail me now!). they had every single kind (hooray!) and i grabbed another double latte flavor (my favorite! 2x caffine + 4x sodium!), knowing i'd probably need another kick at the end.
indeed it was getting hotter. at each water station i began getting two cups of water, one to drink and one to dump in my hat. mile 18 wound through what seemed like the more...young/collegiate section of town. it was still earlyish (probably around 10?) and there were tons of people out drinking and enjoying the marathon spectacle from their yards and decks. one guy was so rowdy and tossing beer around that i actually felt a little nauseous because i got a huge whiff of cheap beer. ewe. banners, balloons, silly string, music...in fact sweet child o' mine, which was one of my *favorite* songs for a moment in time somewhere around 1988. i smiled, thinking of my mom who often remembers me shushing her in the car when this song was on so i could sing at the top of my lungs.
mile 19...and a little way in...brooke! yay! brooke was a mentor with us for the season but was injured early on and wasn't able to run the event. but she was still out there cheering for us. i spotted her shouting for another tnt person and realized it was her and shrieked! she shouted, dropped her bag and sign and ran with me for at least 1/2 a mile. it was really great to see someone at that moment, becauase i had been on my own for so long and a friendly face and some chatter was a great distraction.
it felt like just after i left brooke, and after a kinda gross bridge hill, and there was steve, the "young coach" at mile 20! he was on his phone and i waved frantically "i gotta go," he said with a big smile, "roxie just got here!" i smiled back and he said "okay, if you feel as good as you look, i am not going to worry about you at all."
"i do have a good game face."
"you look great, seriously, i don't know how but you do!"
"i'm not asking questions, just going and going!"
"okay so, here's how the rest of the course is going to go. in a few miles you'll see lisa so keep an eye out and then there's one more little hill-"
"bigger than the one i just ran up?"
"no! compared to this one that one is-"
"an incline?"
"exactly! so then after that there's a bit of a down and back, and don't get freaked out when you see the people coming back towards you, just think that you'll be coming back in that direction soon, it's not that long-"
"okay, down and back, easy easy."
"and then you're just about done."
"okay okay, i can do this."
"i am *so* proud of you roxie, just stay hydrated you're going to be fine!"
he patted me on the arm and i was off again!
the next few miles were kinda gross...off the main roads, there was no more june gloom and the sun was beating down on us, making it really hot and there was no shade in sight. i could definitely feel the heat and dumped a cup of water right on my head this time. i saw a porta-potty with no line and figured i'd better pee while the peeing was good. some people were out with a cooler of beer and i saw a guy run past, then change his mind and go back for one, and for a moment i wished i was that hard core.
somewhere in there was the mile 21 marker...no sign out there...and then yay! mile 22 - a little over 4 miles! less than an hour! even if i was going slowly! i could see the little down and back steve had told me about. there was great music blasting from a radio, tons of people, then a pretty good band, and a guy with a hose spraying it in the air. i dont't think it could have gotten better than that in that moment. i ran directly under the hose and cooled off some more.
i guess you're wondering how i was feeling physically, and really, the answer is oddly good. my feet definitely were bearing the brunt of the pain - part of marathon training is actually getting your feet used to all those miles, and i think they were suffering the most for my lack of running. my shins were fine. my back was a little tense but the man with the big signs that said "relax your shoulders!!" kept inspiring me to draw my shoulders back and keep my arms and hands from tensing up. i was really good about trying to conserve as much energy as possible and being as good to my body as possible, "behaving" as ramon says. not charging up or down hills, drinking tons of water, taking gels promptly, saying loose and remembering to breathe.
the next friendly face was lisa, the brooklyn coach. her face was shocked - happy, but shocked probably 1) to see me so soon and 2) and to see that i wasn't a crashing, broken-down runner.
"roxie! - what the hell!!?"
"i know! i know!"
"what are you doing here so soon!?"
"i don't know!"
"seriously, you're looking great?! how do you feel?"
"i feel okay actually!"
"well, we're still not going to be publishing your training plan."
"yeah, i mean, honestly, i don't know how but i think it's gotta be bouv watching over me a little bit because you and i both know i should not be doing this well!"
"aweeeeeeee don't make me cry now."
"haha"
"roxie, wait, what was your time in phoenix??"
"5:11"
"do you know what time it is?"
"no...i decided to run without my watch."
"wow! good for you well, don't get too excited but by my watch i've got 4:22!!"
at this point i emitted a high-pitched sound that's probably akin to one of a wounded animal but was all excitement, and i'm not going to try to type it. use your imagination.
"okay, maybe i shouldn't have told you that!"
"pr! a pr?!"
"okay roxie, just keep doing whatever it is you're doing, only a few more miles to go, and before you know it you're going to see ramon with that damn cow-bell."
"thank you lisa! you're the best!"
"kick ass girl! see you at the finish!!"
lisa ran me just about to the mile 23 marker and ran to chat with another participant. and now, visions of pr's (personal records) danced in my head. a pr!? i was on the road to a pr? i laughed a little hysterically to myself. whether or not i made it, i was high off the fact that after all the stress and struggle and decisions of the last two weeks, going back and forth, agonizing over making what was, i think, at the time a wise decision not to run, to my emotionally-driven lunacy in deciding to go for it...and here i was, about 3 miles away from the finish, not feeling horrible, and possibly going to run this marathon in record time. a shit-eating grin that could almost match bouv's pretty much stayed plastered to my face for the rest of the run.
mile 24...2+ to go! less than 30 minutes! i think for me, this is the other difficult part of the race. you are so tired, and yet so happy you have so little left to go that you're trying to run fast, and yet, you're body is not really cooperating...well, at least mine wasn't. the closest thing i can equate it to is in a dream-state when something is chasing you and no matter how much effort you are putting in you are running as though you're in slowmotion or quicksand. i gritted my teeth and focused on my arm movement...nice and light...if your arms are moving your legs are moving, one step at a time, focus on the crowds, cheer for other tnt folks and there it is...mile 25.
1.2 miles!! if i had the energy i might have leaped for joy. instead i had a glass of water. much like in the last marathon, i took these final moments to think about why i had gotten myself here.
i thought about bouv, and how he was probably really laughing his ass off this time at my stubbornness. i know, i just know that he was there with me that whole race, a little angel on my shoulder. i really have little to know explanation of how i could have made it otherwise. you can give me the "you're stronger than you think" bit, and how the rest probably did me good, mind over body and the amazing properties of adrenaline, and i might agree with you to a degree. but even if i did "behave" and all the circumstances were lined up just perfectly for me to succeed, what happened out there was a little bit of a miracle and i just simply know bouv was a part of it.
i thought about anthony, the husband of a former co-worker, who is a runner, and recovering from his bone marrow transplant and what he would give to be out running. we're going to be doing a 4-miler together soon - he is so anxious to get back out there and he really wants to run a Team in Training event. He's such an inspiration. I thought about all the stories of friends' parents and friends and cousins, both happy and sad, all the people who have been touched by these blood cancers. i thought about jill, the woman that spoke before our run and about how elating crossing the finish line will be for her. i thought about all of the people that supported me for the first marathon...all 170 of them ;) and how thankful i am to have such a fantastic network of friends new and old behind me. demps, charlotte, sk8, cap, the rookie...all amazing people who play a part in the story...and then there it was!! MILE FREAKING 26!
.2 miles...probably 2 minutes. we approached the military base that was the end of our race. because it was "a secure area" there were guards making sure everyone that was running in had numbers on. i saw a guy who was running with his girlfriend get stopped and pulled off to the side, and while i get it, it made me ~sigh~ to myself. no time for politics now! run run run girl run! crowds of people on the right hand side...people lounging and enjoying post-run beers, families with signs, balloons...and look an archway! the finish....
no. a tease! that's *just* mean. it's funny how the last little bit is so long, i just wanted to GET THERE already. to see ramon with that horribly annoying bell. and there, finally! THE END. bleachers with hoards of cheering people. and ramon!! he came flying to my side ringing that bell like a madman.
for this "conversation" you can just picture me pretty much giggling hysterically throughout while ramon talked...
"look at you!!! you freaking did it!!! i am so FREAKING proud of you, so freaking proud! you behave and look! you here! you finish! you look AMAZING and SMILING. you learn such an important lesson today, you never doubt you-self again, you hear me? never again! and look! look up at the clock! what was you time for arizona!?"
squeeked through giggles "5:11"
"LOOK AT THAT! 4:55 - FREAKING 15 MINUTES PR! PR! you go finish, i am so so freaking proud of you!"
and those words brought me to tears as i finally cross that balloon-studded finish line, rockin' a 4:56:01 on the clock.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
san diego marathon: saturday, part 2
after the rest of the speakers, the rest of the team headed back to the hotel to decorate singlets and i hung around to get interviewed for a new TNT recruitment video.
i was super antsy to get back because i knew that after the decorating, we'd be having essentially a big mission moment - one of the most inspiring times of the weekend. i was waiting for a guy to finish getting interviewed, and then i was supposed to be next...but it was not to be. a cute little old lady was waiting with her son to be interviewed, and the producer asked me if i could let her go first. as much as i really didn't want to, of course i said yes.
this would change the course of my weekend.
so it turns out that this woman was the oldest tnt participant. she was here in san diego for her 9th marathon. HER NINTH. she was going to run the first 8 miles and walk the rest. i stood eavesdropping, in awe of her. 83. 9 marathons. and my mind started spinning again.
finally it was my turn. i got interviewed and talked about why i was running. i talked about bouv and my first season. how that marathon was and why i was back. i told them i had auctioned off my butt on ebay and got a good laugh. they asked me what event i was running, and i found the answer coming out of my mouth was "i don't know."
by the time we wrapped, it was late. they arranged a private bus ride back for me, and for those 15 minutes my head was spinning. that little old gal put me to shame. 83. EIGHTY-THREE. jill. coming back from stage 3 lymphoma to run her first marathon. all the other survivors on our team and all the people that were there running to make sure that we could someday find a cure.
i flew off the bus and downstairs in time to hear more of our teammates stories. one gal from brooklyn who has had way too many people in her life be affected by cancer. her dad was in the hospital with pneumonia, run down by chemo. she talked about how she had only run 14 miles, and everyone was telling her she should only do the half. her retort: screw the 1/2, i'm running the full.
there was a pause between speakers, and i stood and took a deep breath.
"hi, i'm roxie, your fundraising captain. in case you were wondering who was was sending you all those annoying emails every week, well, that would be me.
so, i know you guys think all us mentors have it all figured out, but the truth of the matter is that i'm scared as shit about tomorrow. see, i've had really bad shin splints this season, and haven't run much in the last 5 or so weeks, and so i decided to run the 1/2. i figured, you know what? i just ran a marathon in january, i'll just go and run the 1/2 and cheer everyone on.
but then, see, the reason i was late was being interviewed for this recruitment video and the person before me, well, the thing is, she was 83, and this is her ninth marathon. and between her, and you all, especially you first timers. you're such an inspiration to all of us and you know, i started all of this because i lost a dear friend to hodgkins, and in everything i've been doing, there's a piece that's just for bouv...and so, so...i just simply can't *not try* to run the full. so, whatever happens out there, thank you...really. and i'll see you tomorrow."
the rest of the night was now a scramble of making sure i had everything i need and guzzling water. since i missed singlet decoration, i had to go and find markers and white out. i went to the grocery store with the boys and got a roll with peanut butter and a banana on the side for breakfast. we were going to get pasta ordered in, but san diego is no new york, and instead we headed out to forage for take out. on the walk, i called my parents. i didn't want them to worry, so i didn't tell them about my new plan. instead when i got my sister on the phone, i swore her to secrecy.
"do not make any faces, and don't say a word, but i'm going to try to run the full tomorrow."
there was an extended pause, and a high-pitched "why?"
"because i got inspired and i can't not try, but i don't want mom and dad to worry so don't say anything."
she grudginly agreed, and i told her i'd call after the race.
we ended up with thai. i got the most mild and safe thing on the menu: fried rice. the boys ate downstairs and i headed up to multitask. i was so nervous at that point that i wasn't really hungry. it was already 8:45 and we had to be downstairs at 4:15am...so i was trying to get to bed by 10, but i knew it probably wasn't going to happen. the rookie came up to use the computer and i ate and decorated. i might have been more nervous than he was...ug. he finished up and i wished him good luck, and continued decorating. i pinned my number to my shirt, attached my chip to my shoe and put out all my clothing for the race and afterwards.
as i put the finishing touches on my singlet, my roommate finally came up with her stuff. she was about to write out about 20 good luck postcards for her mentees and another mentor who was staying in another hotel. i insisted she give me a stack, and we tore through them. the poor thing had to go downstairs and get the room numbers from the front desk and deliver them, and it was time for me to go to bed. i looked at the clock and felt a moment of panic as i set a wake-up call for 3:30am, and as a back up, the alarm at 3:45am.
it was 11:20pm, and despite all the freaking out, promptly passed out.
i was super antsy to get back because i knew that after the decorating, we'd be having essentially a big mission moment - one of the most inspiring times of the weekend. i was waiting for a guy to finish getting interviewed, and then i was supposed to be next...but it was not to be. a cute little old lady was waiting with her son to be interviewed, and the producer asked me if i could let her go first. as much as i really didn't want to, of course i said yes.
this would change the course of my weekend.
so it turns out that this woman was the oldest tnt participant. she was here in san diego for her 9th marathon. HER NINTH. she was going to run the first 8 miles and walk the rest. i stood eavesdropping, in awe of her. 83. 9 marathons. and my mind started spinning again.
finally it was my turn. i got interviewed and talked about why i was running. i talked about bouv and my first season. how that marathon was and why i was back. i told them i had auctioned off my butt on ebay and got a good laugh. they asked me what event i was running, and i found the answer coming out of my mouth was "i don't know."
by the time we wrapped, it was late. they arranged a private bus ride back for me, and for those 15 minutes my head was spinning. that little old gal put me to shame. 83. EIGHTY-THREE. jill. coming back from stage 3 lymphoma to run her first marathon. all the other survivors on our team and all the people that were there running to make sure that we could someday find a cure.
i flew off the bus and downstairs in time to hear more of our teammates stories. one gal from brooklyn who has had way too many people in her life be affected by cancer. her dad was in the hospital with pneumonia, run down by chemo. she talked about how she had only run 14 miles, and everyone was telling her she should only do the half. her retort: screw the 1/2, i'm running the full.
there was a pause between speakers, and i stood and took a deep breath.
"hi, i'm roxie, your fundraising captain. in case you were wondering who was was sending you all those annoying emails every week, well, that would be me.
so, i know you guys think all us mentors have it all figured out, but the truth of the matter is that i'm scared as shit about tomorrow. see, i've had really bad shin splints this season, and haven't run much in the last 5 or so weeks, and so i decided to run the 1/2. i figured, you know what? i just ran a marathon in january, i'll just go and run the 1/2 and cheer everyone on.
but then, see, the reason i was late was being interviewed for this recruitment video and the person before me, well, the thing is, she was 83, and this is her ninth marathon. and between her, and you all, especially you first timers. you're such an inspiration to all of us and you know, i started all of this because i lost a dear friend to hodgkins, and in everything i've been doing, there's a piece that's just for bouv...and so, so...i just simply can't *not try* to run the full. so, whatever happens out there, thank you...really. and i'll see you tomorrow."
the rest of the night was now a scramble of making sure i had everything i need and guzzling water. since i missed singlet decoration, i had to go and find markers and white out. i went to the grocery store with the boys and got a roll with peanut butter and a banana on the side for breakfast. we were going to get pasta ordered in, but san diego is no new york, and instead we headed out to forage for take out. on the walk, i called my parents. i didn't want them to worry, so i didn't tell them about my new plan. instead when i got my sister on the phone, i swore her to secrecy.
"do not make any faces, and don't say a word, but i'm going to try to run the full tomorrow."
there was an extended pause, and a high-pitched "why?"
"because i got inspired and i can't not try, but i don't want mom and dad to worry so don't say anything."
she grudginly agreed, and i told her i'd call after the race.
we ended up with thai. i got the most mild and safe thing on the menu: fried rice. the boys ate downstairs and i headed up to multitask. i was so nervous at that point that i wasn't really hungry. it was already 8:45 and we had to be downstairs at 4:15am...so i was trying to get to bed by 10, but i knew it probably wasn't going to happen. the rookie came up to use the computer and i ate and decorated. i might have been more nervous than he was...ug. he finished up and i wished him good luck, and continued decorating. i pinned my number to my shirt, attached my chip to my shoe and put out all my clothing for the race and afterwards.
as i put the finishing touches on my singlet, my roommate finally came up with her stuff. she was about to write out about 20 good luck postcards for her mentees and another mentor who was staying in another hotel. i insisted she give me a stack, and we tore through them. the poor thing had to go downstairs and get the room numbers from the front desk and deliver them, and it was time for me to go to bed. i looked at the clock and felt a moment of panic as i set a wake-up call for 3:30am, and as a back up, the alarm at 3:45am.
it was 11:20pm, and despite all the freaking out, promptly passed out.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
i...am a rockstar.
i haven't time for a full post...but long story short...
i ran all 26.2! without hurting myself! AND I BEAT MY PREVIOUS TIME FOR A PR OF 4:53:53!!!
and i'm still walking.
whole story to come soon, i promise, but honestly, i should have crashed and burned.
i must have someone pretty special looking out for me.
thanks bouv.
today's mileage: 26.2
season mileage to date: 191.1
i ran all 26.2! without hurting myself! AND I BEAT MY PREVIOUS TIME FOR A PR OF 4:53:53!!!
and i'm still walking.
whole story to come soon, i promise, but honestly, i should have crashed and burned.
i must have someone pretty special looking out for me.
thanks bouv.
today's mileage: 26.2
season mileage to date: 191.1
Friday, March 16, 2007
roxie & the return of the spirit tee
today something happened that reminded me that one thing i didn't blog last season was the account of the "misbehaving party".
the misbehaving party is the season wrap up, the everyone has a few (read: gets drunk) and gets jiggy with everyone we've been training with all season. so it was the phoenix, honolulu and disney crews, all fueled with a "all you can drink for $30" special. you knew the night was bound to be interesting.
towards the beginning before most people (not demps - he gets the award for most effective use of the open bar) were plastered, we had a little awards ceremony. the coaches give all sorts of awards, from most improved, to great runs, to good attitudes etc. some are serious, some are funny, some are based on fundraising.
as the ceremony went on, i kinda figured i was going to get something, but then as the pile got smaller and smaller, i thought...hmm i guess not. and really for the first time, my secretly-competitive self didn't mind. i had come to tnt, ran that marathon for bouv and had a freaking amazing time doing it.
the last coach award was the big one - the most valuable player. as ramon says - "this person embodies what tnt is - from the running to the fundraising - we're talking about the whole package. so the person that is getting this award, so first off not only did she sign up to run this crazy marathon, but she got two of her friends to join with her, and they don't even freaking hate her."
at this point, demps starts wildly shaking my shoulders and people are looking at me, oooh. he's talking about me!
he goes on to talk about how much money i raised, and that i was always smiling and how i sold my butt (and how it was a nice butt) and a bunch of just really nice things that are still making me blush. demps was adorably excited, picked me up and swung me around, and i had a ridiculous grin on my face as i went up, gave a booty-shake for effect and thanked and hugged each of the coaches.
i don't think i could have been happier winning an...oscar? like i said, it was already such a sweet victory to have made it over the finish line, but i really felt like it was a testament to bouv too - for inspiring me to do what i never thought possible, and to get mvp just said that i kicked ass for him.
but i'm not done yet. after the coaches, schwecky (our social captain) gave the award for most spirituous. i was only half-listening because i thought i was done for the night, but...the bum girl won that award too, which meant that i would get to keep the spirit tee for the season that i had helped decorate.
the rest of the night was a blur of whisky drinks, dancing and general merriment and drama. but what happens at the misbehaving party stays at the misbehaving party*.
and the point of all this, aside from bragging that i am *so* tnt? well the point is that today i got the spirit tee in the mail at work. i wasn't expecting it, and it's funny, i've been thinking about steve more than usual lately, i'm not sure exactly why. to see the collage of photos i had put together made me both happy and sad. i showed the syrup crew and told them about bouv and managed not to cry about it.
i can't bring myself to delete steve's phone number out of my phone. nor his e-mail address. i know it's silly and ridiculous, but part of me feels like it would be erasing a piece of him somehow. but i'm okay with keeping those things around for a while. bouv, whether in name or spirit, always sparks a smile.
*however, i am open to base forms of encouragement to dish...such as bribery.
the misbehaving party is the season wrap up, the everyone has a few (read: gets drunk) and gets jiggy with everyone we've been training with all season. so it was the phoenix, honolulu and disney crews, all fueled with a "all you can drink for $30" special. you knew the night was bound to be interesting.
towards the beginning before most people (not demps - he gets the award for most effective use of the open bar) were plastered, we had a little awards ceremony. the coaches give all sorts of awards, from most improved, to great runs, to good attitudes etc. some are serious, some are funny, some are based on fundraising.
as the ceremony went on, i kinda figured i was going to get something, but then as the pile got smaller and smaller, i thought...hmm i guess not. and really for the first time, my secretly-competitive self didn't mind. i had come to tnt, ran that marathon for bouv and had a freaking amazing time doing it.
the last coach award was the big one - the most valuable player. as ramon says - "this person embodies what tnt is - from the running to the fundraising - we're talking about the whole package. so the person that is getting this award, so first off not only did she sign up to run this crazy marathon, but she got two of her friends to join with her, and they don't even freaking hate her."
at this point, demps starts wildly shaking my shoulders and people are looking at me, oooh. he's talking about me!
he goes on to talk about how much money i raised, and that i was always smiling and how i sold my butt (and how it was a nice butt) and a bunch of just really nice things that are still making me blush. demps was adorably excited, picked me up and swung me around, and i had a ridiculous grin on my face as i went up, gave a booty-shake for effect and thanked and hugged each of the coaches.
i don't think i could have been happier winning an...oscar? like i said, it was already such a sweet victory to have made it over the finish line, but i really felt like it was a testament to bouv too - for inspiring me to do what i never thought possible, and to get mvp just said that i kicked ass for him.
but i'm not done yet. after the coaches, schwecky (our social captain) gave the award for most spirituous. i was only half-listening because i thought i was done for the night, but...the bum girl won that award too, which meant that i would get to keep the spirit tee for the season that i had helped decorate.
the rest of the night was a blur of whisky drinks, dancing and general merriment and drama. but what happens at the misbehaving party stays at the misbehaving party*.
and the point of all this, aside from bragging that i am *so* tnt? well the point is that today i got the spirit tee in the mail at work. i wasn't expecting it, and it's funny, i've been thinking about steve more than usual lately, i'm not sure exactly why. to see the collage of photos i had put together made me both happy and sad. i showed the syrup crew and told them about bouv and managed not to cry about it.
i can't bring myself to delete steve's phone number out of my phone. nor his e-mail address. i know it's silly and ridiculous, but part of me feels like it would be erasing a piece of him somehow. but i'm okay with keeping those things around for a while. bouv, whether in name or spirit, always sparks a smile.
*however, i am open to base forms of encouragement to dish...such as bribery.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
glutton for punishment
oh good lord did i really just apply for the NYC marathon lottery?
yes, yes i did.
TNT what have you done...(she says with a grin on her face!)
yes, yes i did.
TNT what have you done...(she says with a grin on her face!)
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
the marathon: 13.1 - 26.2 miles
after the high of seeing everyone wore off, my body began to grimace again. the best part was that one of my thighs started to chafe. awesome. i hadn’t really had a problem with the chafage for any of my long runs, but the saturday before, when i was in tennessee, i ran in the rain (chafing is more likely in the rain) and got a patch then. ouuuch. stinging is not a good accessory for marathon running. luckily, the fantastic medics were well prepared and were standing near the 14 mile mark with popsicle sticks coated with with vaseline. aside from sticky hands, i felt better.
charlotte was still feeling great, and for the couple miles or so, i simply tried to put one foot in front of the other and wait for the tightness to wear off. it’s funny though, because even feeling less than great, i couldn’t help but continue to grin and wave back at the crowds. it’s amazing how they keep you going and smiling. around mile 15 we saw another medic station. char suggested we just grab some pain killers (that would be tylenol 8 hour, the official drug of choice of the medic stands). they want to make sure you don’t take too many or you’re getting them just in case, so they ask what’s up and then mark your number to show you already got some good stuff. i was a little out of it at this point, and so when they said “where’s your pain?” i first said “what?” and then they asked again, and i stammered, “uh, my leg!”
well, it was true.
after that it got a little better. my new strategy was to cheer for someone else when i was feeling crappy. i picked out people in lls purple and yelled at them by city, or name or identifying feature. char wanted to use the bathroom, so while i waited, i stretched my calves and cheered at the top of my lungs for everyone going by. and i’ve got some lungs, believe me, it was fun, almost made me feel like i wasn’t 10.2 miles away from finishing a marathon.
that’s the point where it kind of sucks. you’ve run 16 miles, and you still have *more than ten* to go. that’s still, for a slow poke like me, somewhere around 2 hours more to go. but after the pain of starting to run again wore off, i was actually feeling pretty good. when we hit 17ish...we realized we were 2/3rds done, and that felt a little better than 10 miles. and then, came the magic mile, mile 18.
i don’t know if it was that i got a 2nd (or 3rd or 4th) wind, or if it was the chocolate goo, which is more like a packet of chocolate frosting, or the middle of a slightly cooked brownie, but somewhere during mile 18, i woke up, got un-sore, and even, dare i say, peppy. we had our headphones on, and i wish i could remember what song was playing but it was a bit of a blur but i felt like i could run like the wind. yes, my feet still hurt. yes, my legs still hurt. but it was all relative and dulled by the rush of endorphins flooding my brain.
our next spot for friendly faces was just after mile 20. the crowds were fantastic, and there were lots of tnt coaches from other chapters along the route encouraging us. charlotte started to fade a bit - “talk to me and tell me anything”. i started blathering on like an idiot that “less than 6 miles to go...and then we’re going to get medals and eat in-and-out burgers and drink beer and take a nap and get a massage and go in the hot tub and we already ran almost 20 and we’re doing great!” this took some time and even incited a giggle. my work was done. we crossed the 20 mile mark and waved at the camera men snapping away on the scaffolding.
there was the massive tnt cheering crew at mile 20+ yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!! i was all grins. “how are you guys feeling!” poor charlotte said “she’s great.” tossing her head in my general direction. i nodded emphatically with my lunatic-like grin. she started telling us that our coach christine would be up ahead, but that it was time to not think about our legs, only our arms. i tuned out because up ahead i could see my mom. i can’t remember if we stopped, i don’t think so, it was more of a slow-down, drive by, but my mom and aunt and sister were all cheering. someone said i looked like i just started, oh sweet lies, but it was fun anyway. i didn’t know where my dad was, but we had to keep moving.
char and i broke up at the 21 mile water stop. i was still feeling good, and charlotte, who had clif-blocks, not goo decided that she was going to stop and walk. it was very cinematic, like a scene in a film where someone’s wounded and the other person has to go find help. cue dramatic music...
charlotte: i’m going to walk while i have some water...but you go on, i’ll catch up
me: are you sure?
charlotte: yes, you go ahead. i’ll catch up, if you don’t speed up...
me: i won’t, i’ll be going this same pace...this pace
charlotte: yes, i just need to walk a little, i’ll see you in a bit...
me: okay...i’ll see you soon...
and scene.
i continued to feel great - i was passing people left and right, which was an odd feeling. soon i could see my coach christine up ahead. i waved and waved and she yelped and started running with me!! “roxie! all smiles!! exactly what i would have expected! you look great...i could see you passing everyone, you’re definitely one of strongest runners out here right now” (my grin got bigger) “wait, where’s charlotte!” i told her she was just taking a little break and was just a little bit behind me. it was nice having and expert with you for a little bit. she told me it was all about the arms...don’t think about your lower body, keep your arms loose and try not to be tense. if your arms are moving, your legs will move. she ran with me for about a mile, and that was great. she turned back and there i was, around mile 22. four more miles.
i stayed close to the right, near the crowds, still smiling, waving, letting the crowds keep me going. somewhere between mile 22 and 23 was when it got really hard physically. it was time to have my last goo, but i felt really really nauseous. in fact i was quite certain if could quite easily stop running, lean over, and puke right there on the side of the road. with this came a little bit of a lightheadedness. if you don’t know, loosing too much salt from your body is worse than being too dehydrated. symptoms are similar, but when it’s a salt issue it affects your mental state. scary. my last goo also was 4x sodium, and after that and some more pink accellerade i felt a little better.
mile 23...done. it was sunny but i still wasn’t too hot. crowds were thinning but the tnt coaches were out en-mass, probably running back and forth like christine had been doing. ahead was the one hill of the whole race, but it wasn’t a terrible one. i was a little more tired when i got to the top, but i was okay. i could see 24 in the distance. oh we were getting there. mile 24...the time on the clock was 4:52. we had stared seven minues after the clock...so i officially knew that i was not going to break 5 hours because i’d have to run 7.5 minute miles. it made me laugh that i was even still thinking about time at a time like that. i wasn’t broken yet.
and now, with just two miles, only 24 minutes left to go, this is the part i had saved all my inspiration for. the second wind, the happy running time, it was done. now it was just me and my aching tired body...and the reason i had come to do this damn run in the first place. throughout the run, i hadn’t wanted to think of the reasons why i was running until i really needed it.
first i thought about someone i had never met before. my friend fran’s friend alan. he had been fighting lymphoma and thought he had beat it, but it had returned. fran, being a fantastic person, gave me a 2nd donation. i told him to tell alan i would be running for him. and so i thought about alan and his fight, and run for him i did.
then i ran for anthony, a former-coworker’s husband. he was diagnosed with leukemia right around the time i decided to do the marathon. he’s just 43, and he runs marathons. when he was diagnosed, they said they though he had the leukemia for over a year, and he ran the last nyc marathon while he was sick, but didn’t know it. over the last 5 months, he got a bone marrow transplant and he’s back at home and doing well. he had sent me a lovely good-luck note, and i thought of it and him. and got a few more yards down the road.
and then, of course, it was time to think of bouv. i didn’t think words. i thought of his smile, the smirky-shit-eating-grin-smile. i pictured him happy and relaxed and drinking a killians, shaking his head at the lengths i had gone to show him that i cared. i thought about him grinning and saying, in his think accent “come on giroux, you’re almost done, giroux, you got it? then we’ll go drink some beahs”. i answered back “bring me home buddy” and managed another little burst of speed.
mile 25, oh thank christ...1.2 miles! if i could have jumped up and down, i would have. crowds were thickening and still cheering. there was one more water stop but there was no way i was stopping then. that mile, was probably the mile that took the longest. “if your arms are moving, your legs are moving, your arms move your legs move” droned in my head. still grinning though, tnt peeps were cheering me on, saying i looked strong, almost there, all those encouraging types of things people are supposed to say to people at the end of a marathon. i grinned at them all and put one foot in front of another.
a tnt coach that was not from my chapter came up and started jogging up next to me. so nice. i never really knew what having a team meant, and this race really illustrated it better than anything else i think i could have done. he said i was doing great, but to loosen my shoulders a little bit, they were a little tense. okay. he said as when i turned the corner i would see a big sign at 6th street (i think) and that was the 26 mile mark...and then there was only .2 miles! yeaaaaaaah!
i thanked him for the good news and kept going. 6th street. 26 milescrowds and crowds, their clothing and cheers blending together...and there was ramon and his cowbell.
it is a tradition that ramon, our head coach, runs each and every new york chapter runner up to the finish line, ringing a very very loud and obnoxious cow bell. i hollered at him and there we were, finish line ahead, bell triumphantly cheering.
“so how you feel? do you feel good? you look good!”
“yes, i feel good!“
“and now you can auction you butt for even more because it is marathon butt!” at this i just started cracking up.
“but seriously, it’s all you now. there is is, the finish line. look good for you picture. i am so freaking proud of you!” if my face hadn't already been reddish, i'm sure i would have blushed.
and he stopped running, and then it was just me and the finish line a yard or two ahead. i raised my arms wildly and i thought i was going to hurt myself smiling so big and cheering at the same time, waving at the crowds and the camera’s taking pictures. i had thought all along i was going to cry, but there was no room for tears in the sheer joy that was crossing that finish line.
i was a marathoner. and a smiling one.
today's mileage: 26.2
mileage to date: 371.2
charlotte was still feeling great, and for the couple miles or so, i simply tried to put one foot in front of the other and wait for the tightness to wear off. it’s funny though, because even feeling less than great, i couldn’t help but continue to grin and wave back at the crowds. it’s amazing how they keep you going and smiling. around mile 15 we saw another medic station. char suggested we just grab some pain killers (that would be tylenol 8 hour, the official drug of choice of the medic stands). they want to make sure you don’t take too many or you’re getting them just in case, so they ask what’s up and then mark your number to show you already got some good stuff. i was a little out of it at this point, and so when they said “where’s your pain?” i first said “what?” and then they asked again, and i stammered, “uh, my leg!”
well, it was true.
after that it got a little better. my new strategy was to cheer for someone else when i was feeling crappy. i picked out people in lls purple and yelled at them by city, or name or identifying feature. char wanted to use the bathroom, so while i waited, i stretched my calves and cheered at the top of my lungs for everyone going by. and i’ve got some lungs, believe me, it was fun, almost made me feel like i wasn’t 10.2 miles away from finishing a marathon.
that’s the point where it kind of sucks. you’ve run 16 miles, and you still have *more than ten* to go. that’s still, for a slow poke like me, somewhere around 2 hours more to go. but after the pain of starting to run again wore off, i was actually feeling pretty good. when we hit 17ish...we realized we were 2/3rds done, and that felt a little better than 10 miles. and then, came the magic mile, mile 18.
i don’t know if it was that i got a 2nd (or 3rd or 4th) wind, or if it was the chocolate goo, which is more like a packet of chocolate frosting, or the middle of a slightly cooked brownie, but somewhere during mile 18, i woke up, got un-sore, and even, dare i say, peppy. we had our headphones on, and i wish i could remember what song was playing but it was a bit of a blur but i felt like i could run like the wind. yes, my feet still hurt. yes, my legs still hurt. but it was all relative and dulled by the rush of endorphins flooding my brain.
our next spot for friendly faces was just after mile 20. the crowds were fantastic, and there were lots of tnt coaches from other chapters along the route encouraging us. charlotte started to fade a bit - “talk to me and tell me anything”. i started blathering on like an idiot that “less than 6 miles to go...and then we’re going to get medals and eat in-and-out burgers and drink beer and take a nap and get a massage and go in the hot tub and we already ran almost 20 and we’re doing great!” this took some time and even incited a giggle. my work was done. we crossed the 20 mile mark and waved at the camera men snapping away on the scaffolding.
there was the massive tnt cheering crew at mile 20+ yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!! i was all grins. “how are you guys feeling!” poor charlotte said “she’s great.” tossing her head in my general direction. i nodded emphatically with my lunatic-like grin. she started telling us that our coach christine would be up ahead, but that it was time to not think about our legs, only our arms. i tuned out because up ahead i could see my mom. i can’t remember if we stopped, i don’t think so, it was more of a slow-down, drive by, but my mom and aunt and sister were all cheering. someone said i looked like i just started, oh sweet lies, but it was fun anyway. i didn’t know where my dad was, but we had to keep moving.
char and i broke up at the 21 mile water stop. i was still feeling good, and charlotte, who had clif-blocks, not goo decided that she was going to stop and walk. it was very cinematic, like a scene in a film where someone’s wounded and the other person has to go find help. cue dramatic music...
charlotte: i’m going to walk while i have some water...but you go on, i’ll catch up
me: are you sure?
charlotte: yes, you go ahead. i’ll catch up, if you don’t speed up...
me: i won’t, i’ll be going this same pace...this pace
charlotte: yes, i just need to walk a little, i’ll see you in a bit...
me: okay...i’ll see you soon...
and scene.
i continued to feel great - i was passing people left and right, which was an odd feeling. soon i could see my coach christine up ahead. i waved and waved and she yelped and started running with me!! “roxie! all smiles!! exactly what i would have expected! you look great...i could see you passing everyone, you’re definitely one of strongest runners out here right now” (my grin got bigger) “wait, where’s charlotte!” i told her she was just taking a little break and was just a little bit behind me. it was nice having and expert with you for a little bit. she told me it was all about the arms...don’t think about your lower body, keep your arms loose and try not to be tense. if your arms are moving, your legs will move. she ran with me for about a mile, and that was great. she turned back and there i was, around mile 22. four more miles.
i stayed close to the right, near the crowds, still smiling, waving, letting the crowds keep me going. somewhere between mile 22 and 23 was when it got really hard physically. it was time to have my last goo, but i felt really really nauseous. in fact i was quite certain if could quite easily stop running, lean over, and puke right there on the side of the road. with this came a little bit of a lightheadedness. if you don’t know, loosing too much salt from your body is worse than being too dehydrated. symptoms are similar, but when it’s a salt issue it affects your mental state. scary. my last goo also was 4x sodium, and after that and some more pink accellerade i felt a little better.
mile 23...done. it was sunny but i still wasn’t too hot. crowds were thinning but the tnt coaches were out en-mass, probably running back and forth like christine had been doing. ahead was the one hill of the whole race, but it wasn’t a terrible one. i was a little more tired when i got to the top, but i was okay. i could see 24 in the distance. oh we were getting there. mile 24...the time on the clock was 4:52. we had stared seven minues after the clock...so i officially knew that i was not going to break 5 hours because i’d have to run 7.5 minute miles. it made me laugh that i was even still thinking about time at a time like that. i wasn’t broken yet.
and now, with just two miles, only 24 minutes left to go, this is the part i had saved all my inspiration for. the second wind, the happy running time, it was done. now it was just me and my aching tired body...and the reason i had come to do this damn run in the first place. throughout the run, i hadn’t wanted to think of the reasons why i was running until i really needed it.
first i thought about someone i had never met before. my friend fran’s friend alan. he had been fighting lymphoma and thought he had beat it, but it had returned. fran, being a fantastic person, gave me a 2nd donation. i told him to tell alan i would be running for him. and so i thought about alan and his fight, and run for him i did.
then i ran for anthony, a former-coworker’s husband. he was diagnosed with leukemia right around the time i decided to do the marathon. he’s just 43, and he runs marathons. when he was diagnosed, they said they though he had the leukemia for over a year, and he ran the last nyc marathon while he was sick, but didn’t know it. over the last 5 months, he got a bone marrow transplant and he’s back at home and doing well. he had sent me a lovely good-luck note, and i thought of it and him. and got a few more yards down the road.
and then, of course, it was time to think of bouv. i didn’t think words. i thought of his smile, the smirky-shit-eating-grin-smile. i pictured him happy and relaxed and drinking a killians, shaking his head at the lengths i had gone to show him that i cared. i thought about him grinning and saying, in his think accent “come on giroux, you’re almost done, giroux, you got it? then we’ll go drink some beahs”. i answered back “bring me home buddy” and managed another little burst of speed.
mile 25, oh thank christ...1.2 miles! if i could have jumped up and down, i would have. crowds were thickening and still cheering. there was one more water stop but there was no way i was stopping then. that mile, was probably the mile that took the longest. “if your arms are moving, your legs are moving, your arms move your legs move” droned in my head. still grinning though, tnt peeps were cheering me on, saying i looked strong, almost there, all those encouraging types of things people are supposed to say to people at the end of a marathon. i grinned at them all and put one foot in front of another.
a tnt coach that was not from my chapter came up and started jogging up next to me. so nice. i never really knew what having a team meant, and this race really illustrated it better than anything else i think i could have done. he said i was doing great, but to loosen my shoulders a little bit, they were a little tense. okay. he said as when i turned the corner i would see a big sign at 6th street (i think) and that was the 26 mile mark...and then there was only .2 miles! yeaaaaaaah!
i thanked him for the good news and kept going. 6th street. 26 milescrowds and crowds, their clothing and cheers blending together...and there was ramon and his cowbell.
it is a tradition that ramon, our head coach, runs each and every new york chapter runner up to the finish line, ringing a very very loud and obnoxious cow bell. i hollered at him and there we were, finish line ahead, bell triumphantly cheering.
“so how you feel? do you feel good? you look good!”
“yes, i feel good!“
“and now you can auction you butt for even more because it is marathon butt!” at this i just started cracking up.
“but seriously, it’s all you now. there is is, the finish line. look good for you picture. i am so freaking proud of you!” if my face hadn't already been reddish, i'm sure i would have blushed.
and he stopped running, and then it was just me and the finish line a yard or two ahead. i raised my arms wildly and i thought i was going to hurt myself smiling so big and cheering at the same time, waving at the crowds and the camera’s taking pictures. i had thought all along i was going to cry, but there was no room for tears in the sheer joy that was crossing that finish line.
i was a marathoner. and a smiling one.
today's mileage: 26.2
mileage to date: 371.2
Saturday, January 20, 2007
saturday (part 2): why i run
i took a deep breath and stood up in front of my friends, teammates and coaches.
"hi, i'm jen...affectionately known as ms bum." (laugh)
before i start writing about what i said, i'm going to tell you now that it was a blur of run-on sentences and maybe even incomplete thoughts. and i will probably add a few things here and there that i did not say, but meant to, and need to now.
"so, you heard demps talk a little bit about why i am running. i am running in memory of my friend steve bouvier. we called him bouv. i met bouv in 7th grade, in science class. he was the nicest guy we all knew. he was always smiling. growing up, it was always steve and the girls - he was the only guy that was allowed to hang out with all the girls. bouv was the guy that you were always keeping an eye-out for a good girl to set him up with (until he snagged jeanne). we were friends through high school and college, through break-ups and living in different states. bouv always had your back. he had the thickest massachusetts accent of all our friends - there was nothing like going for "beahs" with bouvier. he loved skiing, and vermont, and his family, and chemistry, and jeanne, and also us brimfield girls.
when bouv was diagnosed with hodgkin's he was optimistic. he showed no fear. he told us all that it was "the kinda cancer you want to get if you get cancer". the survival rates were high. his calm way of talking about it put the rest of us at ease. we all knew he was going to beat it.
through the years, bouv's disease seemed be on a roller coaster. he'd get better and then he'd get sick again. throughout, he never seemed down about it. over thanksgiving and christmas breaks, he'd play designated driver and we'd hit the local bar as we always had. he had a few bone marrow transplants, and they seemed to help, but he never got completely better. i had moved to new york, and so at those periods that he'd have to go in the hospital for treatments, i never saw him. i only ever saw the healthy bouv.
bouv met a girl named jeanne. and she was fantastic, and we were all happy that he had found such a wonderful girl. they fell in love. and before one of his more experimental treatments, they got married in vermont, in a little ceremony with just their families. we got the pictures and he looked so happy. the hodgkin's could not wipe the signature bouv-grin off his face.
last year, in early october, a few days before i was taking off for a three-day charity bike ride, we got an e-mail from jeanne. steve was really sick again, and his body could not handle any more chemo. he and jeanne and his family decided that bouv would go into hospice. i confess, i didn't know what hospice was. when i asked a friend at work, they said that hospice is not about getting better, it's about managing pain.
i was bewildered and shocked. how could...but he wasn't that sick...but not bouv. in two days i had to on the bike ride, and was so scared that i was not going to make it to massachusetts to see him, before...i couldn't even say it. i got a friend to scan a picture of bouv and the brimfield girls - it was his favorite - a photo that he would take with him to the hospital when he got treatment, and throughout that ride, i kept that photo close, making that ride for him, drawing on the strength he had to keep going.
the following weekend, i decided to go up to massachusetts on sunday to see bouv. when i went into the living room, i'm not sure that my face hid what i felt. he simply looked so much older than the last time i saw him. too old for his years. i sat in his living room with jeanne and his family, and we talked, catching up. he was on a lot of pain meds, patches and such, that jeanne lovingly and handled with a quiet strength that i'm not sure that i possess.
before i knew it, it was time for me to catch a train. i went over and hugged bouv and said goodbye, and said "i'll see you next week, okay?" and his reply was a firm "definitely." i didn't cry until i got in the car.
a few days later steve died. i've never talked about this before, but after feeling the sorrow, for steve, for jeanne, for his family...the next worst thing was the guilt. i should have been there more often. visited. why didn't i realize? i wasn't a good friend, how did i not know this was going to happen and spent more time with bouv.
and so, almost a year later, when i decided it was time to do some new charity activity, i wanted to do something for the leukemia & lymphoma society. i came to a tnt info meeting looking for a bike ride. and as i sat there, sad and inspired and wanting to do *something*, looking at the bike rides and thinking...they're too short (they were "only" day rides of 100 miles)...a flicker of insanity sparked. a marathon? no way. there's no way i can. but then i couldn't let it go, because i knew if i had it in me to do this, if i did, i could probably only do it for a damn good reason. and doing it for bouv seemed like a damn good reason.
that's how i signed up with the rest of you crazy people, to run a marathon. but beyond running, what you've given me, what these last months have given me, was a way to heal a little bit. it means so much. and not just to me. to bouv's family. to so many other people. i've raised a lot of money, no doubt, but what is more amazing to me is that over 120 people have been a part of this, have gotten to do something in memory for someone that we loved so much.
we're going to run a marathon tomorrow. and i know that i can do it. i know that you can too. so thank you. thank you for being here, and training with me, for helping me do something for my friend. thank you demps & charlotte & drew for doing this with me. thank you bouv."
"hi, i'm jen...affectionately known as ms bum." (laugh)
before i start writing about what i said, i'm going to tell you now that it was a blur of run-on sentences and maybe even incomplete thoughts. and i will probably add a few things here and there that i did not say, but meant to, and need to now.
"so, you heard demps talk a little bit about why i am running. i am running in memory of my friend steve bouvier. we called him bouv. i met bouv in 7th grade, in science class. he was the nicest guy we all knew. he was always smiling. growing up, it was always steve and the girls - he was the only guy that was allowed to hang out with all the girls. bouv was the guy that you were always keeping an eye-out for a good girl to set him up with (until he snagged jeanne). we were friends through high school and college, through break-ups and living in different states. bouv always had your back. he had the thickest massachusetts accent of all our friends - there was nothing like going for "beahs" with bouvier. he loved skiing, and vermont, and his family, and chemistry, and jeanne, and also us brimfield girls.
when bouv was diagnosed with hodgkin's he was optimistic. he showed no fear. he told us all that it was "the kinda cancer you want to get if you get cancer". the survival rates were high. his calm way of talking about it put the rest of us at ease. we all knew he was going to beat it.
through the years, bouv's disease seemed be on a roller coaster. he'd get better and then he'd get sick again. throughout, he never seemed down about it. over thanksgiving and christmas breaks, he'd play designated driver and we'd hit the local bar as we always had. he had a few bone marrow transplants, and they seemed to help, but he never got completely better. i had moved to new york, and so at those periods that he'd have to go in the hospital for treatments, i never saw him. i only ever saw the healthy bouv.
bouv met a girl named jeanne. and she was fantastic, and we were all happy that he had found such a wonderful girl. they fell in love. and before one of his more experimental treatments, they got married in vermont, in a little ceremony with just their families. we got the pictures and he looked so happy. the hodgkin's could not wipe the signature bouv-grin off his face.
last year, in early october, a few days before i was taking off for a three-day charity bike ride, we got an e-mail from jeanne. steve was really sick again, and his body could not handle any more chemo. he and jeanne and his family decided that bouv would go into hospice. i confess, i didn't know what hospice was. when i asked a friend at work, they said that hospice is not about getting better, it's about managing pain.
i was bewildered and shocked. how could...but he wasn't that sick...but not bouv. in two days i had to on the bike ride, and was so scared that i was not going to make it to massachusetts to see him, before...i couldn't even say it. i got a friend to scan a picture of bouv and the brimfield girls - it was his favorite - a photo that he would take with him to the hospital when he got treatment, and throughout that ride, i kept that photo close, making that ride for him, drawing on the strength he had to keep going.
the following weekend, i decided to go up to massachusetts on sunday to see bouv. when i went into the living room, i'm not sure that my face hid what i felt. he simply looked so much older than the last time i saw him. too old for his years. i sat in his living room with jeanne and his family, and we talked, catching up. he was on a lot of pain meds, patches and such, that jeanne lovingly and handled with a quiet strength that i'm not sure that i possess.
before i knew it, it was time for me to catch a train. i went over and hugged bouv and said goodbye, and said "i'll see you next week, okay?" and his reply was a firm "definitely." i didn't cry until i got in the car.
a few days later steve died. i've never talked about this before, but after feeling the sorrow, for steve, for jeanne, for his family...the next worst thing was the guilt. i should have been there more often. visited. why didn't i realize? i wasn't a good friend, how did i not know this was going to happen and spent more time with bouv.
and so, almost a year later, when i decided it was time to do some new charity activity, i wanted to do something for the leukemia & lymphoma society. i came to a tnt info meeting looking for a bike ride. and as i sat there, sad and inspired and wanting to do *something*, looking at the bike rides and thinking...they're too short (they were "only" day rides of 100 miles)...a flicker of insanity sparked. a marathon? no way. there's no way i can. but then i couldn't let it go, because i knew if i had it in me to do this, if i did, i could probably only do it for a damn good reason. and doing it for bouv seemed like a damn good reason.
that's how i signed up with the rest of you crazy people, to run a marathon. but beyond running, what you've given me, what these last months have given me, was a way to heal a little bit. it means so much. and not just to me. to bouv's family. to so many other people. i've raised a lot of money, no doubt, but what is more amazing to me is that over 120 people have been a part of this, have gotten to do something in memory for someone that we loved so much.
we're going to run a marathon tomorrow. and i know that i can do it. i know that you can too. so thank you. thank you for being here, and training with me, for helping me do something for my friend. thank you demps & charlotte & drew for doing this with me. thank you bouv."
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
i think i'm there...
after a crash-course in photoshop over i.m. (thank you michael) and many do-overs... here it is...
now i just have to print and figure out how to attach it to the shirt...
now i just have to print and figure out how to attach it to the shirt...
bouv's girls (pre-jeanne that is!)
this is steve's favorite picture of him and the girls.
this was taken in 1998, just after we all graduated from college. r. had us all over for a quieter celebration of our finishing school, "growing up", and heading out to the real world (boston, france, new york...anywhere but home!)
it's funny how a picture can make you smile and cry at the same time.
this is the picture steve took with him to the hospital when he was getting treatment.
this is the picture i took with me on my bike ride when i learned that he was going into hospice.
this is my favorite picture of all of us. thank you jeanne (and katie!) for sending this along.
back to work on the collage...
this was taken in 1998, just after we all graduated from college. r. had us all over for a quieter celebration of our finishing school, "growing up", and heading out to the real world (boston, france, new york...anywhere but home!)
it's funny how a picture can make you smile and cry at the same time.
this is the picture steve took with him to the hospital when he was getting treatment.
this is the picture i took with me on my bike ride when i learned that he was going into hospice.
this is my favorite picture of all of us. thank you jeanne (and katie!) for sending this along.
back to work on the collage...
Thursday, October 19, 2006
putting a face to the name
this is steve, wearing a perfect steve grin.
this was taken one of the last nights i was living in boston in 2000, at a co-birthday/farewell party. sorry for the quality but i literally took a picture of a picture because i've been home all day packing. i'm looking for one of steve's (and my) favorite picture of him and a bunch of us girls...but in the packing mess i cannot get my hands on it! i'll fix this one and hopefully find the other soon!
this was taken one of the last nights i was living in boston in 2000, at a co-birthday/farewell party. sorry for the quality but i literally took a picture of a picture because i've been home all day packing. i'm looking for one of steve's (and my) favorite picture of him and a bunch of us girls...but in the packing mess i cannot get my hands on it! i'll fix this one and hopefully find the other soon!
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
a run for bouv
it's wednesday night, turning thursday october 19th now. i'm blue. i'm blue because october 19th marks the 1st year anniversary of the day that steve died. this will be a hard post.
a while ago, i started thinking about how i wanted to deal with this day. i much prefer celebrating steve's birth and his life. but i know that to disregard, or some how sweep under, or try to ignore, the day that he died is not good or healthy or right. i want to honor steve's whole life, and that means dealing with the whole picture.
i mentioned in the last post that before each run we have a mission moment - someone speaks about why they are running with team in training. about a month or so ago, i decided that to do one of these was one of the ways that i could talk about steve and remember him with other people in a way that would not only allow me to be sad (it's sometimes hard for me to let myself be sad) but to also motivate and inspire those around me that are participating in team in training.
so tonight at practice, i talked about steve and his illness and his death. i talked about how i wanted to do something and went to a team in training meeting looking for a bike ride but came out a marathon runner. i talked about how i was doing this for steve and his wife and his family. it was hard. i haven't talked, out loud, about that stuff in a specific way in a long time. i got choked up. i kept talking. i got teary-eyed, and kept talking. the words spilled out of my mouth more than anything else and i just tried to be brave and speak strongly, 'cause that's what this story deserves.
after i spoke, it was time for our coach, christine, to tell us about what we would be doing for our run. but first, she thanked me for the mission moment, and she asked everyone dedicate tonight's run for steve and his family. that doesn't happen every week, and it made me really glad that she did that. as we ran the warm up and during the hills, other people continued to thank me for sharing, which alternately made be blush and smile. after running up the hill the last time, which of course was the hardest, one of my teammates that i don't know called out as he ran by "hey steve's friend" because he couldn't remember my name. he remembered steve's. he told me "that last one i ran especially for steve."
so tonight, bouv, you had a ton of people running up and down a hell of a 1/4 mile long hill remembering you and thinking of your family. i hope you are looking down on all this, drinking a beah with a shit-eating grin on your face. or maybe that's because the yankees choked this season?
but regardless...cheers my friend. i miss you, and keep you with me all the time. i'm proud to be doing something so crazy in your name.
today's mileage: 5.0
total mileage: 129.1
a while ago, i started thinking about how i wanted to deal with this day. i much prefer celebrating steve's birth and his life. but i know that to disregard, or some how sweep under, or try to ignore, the day that he died is not good or healthy or right. i want to honor steve's whole life, and that means dealing with the whole picture.
i mentioned in the last post that before each run we have a mission moment - someone speaks about why they are running with team in training. about a month or so ago, i decided that to do one of these was one of the ways that i could talk about steve and remember him with other people in a way that would not only allow me to be sad (it's sometimes hard for me to let myself be sad) but to also motivate and inspire those around me that are participating in team in training.
so tonight at practice, i talked about steve and his illness and his death. i talked about how i wanted to do something and went to a team in training meeting looking for a bike ride but came out a marathon runner. i talked about how i was doing this for steve and his wife and his family. it was hard. i haven't talked, out loud, about that stuff in a specific way in a long time. i got choked up. i kept talking. i got teary-eyed, and kept talking. the words spilled out of my mouth more than anything else and i just tried to be brave and speak strongly, 'cause that's what this story deserves.
after i spoke, it was time for our coach, christine, to tell us about what we would be doing for our run. but first, she thanked me for the mission moment, and she asked everyone dedicate tonight's run for steve and his family. that doesn't happen every week, and it made me really glad that she did that. as we ran the warm up and during the hills, other people continued to thank me for sharing, which alternately made be blush and smile. after running up the hill the last time, which of course was the hardest, one of my teammates that i don't know called out as he ran by "hey steve's friend" because he couldn't remember my name. he remembered steve's. he told me "that last one i ran especially for steve."
so tonight, bouv, you had a ton of people running up and down a hell of a 1/4 mile long hill remembering you and thinking of your family. i hope you are looking down on all this, drinking a beah with a shit-eating grin on your face. or maybe that's because the yankees choked this season?
but regardless...cheers my friend. i miss you, and keep you with me all the time. i'm proud to be doing something so crazy in your name.
today's mileage: 5.0
total mileage: 129.1
Monday, September 11, 2006
a warmer reason to remember september 11th
september 11th is a day that it seared into the memories of americans and world. it was, as the newspapers are saying, new york's darkest day. on september 11th, 2001 i had been living in new york for a little over a year, working on the west side in chelsea at my first advertising agency. i have many surreal memories of that day and the days and weeks following, and truth be told, in years past, just the mention of the date makes me cringe. but this year, while i will not (nor do i want to) forget the tragedy that took place 5 years ago today, i choose to celebrate a more joyful event that took place 30 years ago today.
on september 11, 1976, steven bouvier was born. what i'm sure was an adorable bundle grew up to be a man, a husband, a chemist, a skiier, a scholar, an uncle, a son-in-law, a brother-in-law, a friend, and a vermont-enthusiast. he was, by birth, a son, a little brother, a nephew, a cousin, a "bouv" and a red sox fan, and i know that he excelled in all categories. he grew an infectious smile, a certain swagger in his lanky walk, a great sense of humor, long hair, and the accent we all know and love.
when i was running today, at first it was really hard to tune out the dark implications of the day. there were cops not just on the big bridges, but the little footbridges that cross the FDR. the southbound side of the FDR was blocked off, and the constant buzz of the news and police helicopters were nearly impossible to ignore. but after i got my rhythm, i was able to tune them out and think about steve.
a few weeks ago, i was watching a very very cheesy girlie movie with my sister. ( if, by the way,after i describe this you know what movie i'm talking about, you lose all rights to mock me for watching it.) in this movie, one of the characters, a 12-year-old girl, has leukemia. her friend asks her if she is afraid, and she says not of death, but of time. she was afraid that she wouldn't figure out who she was, wouldn't have time to make her mark on the world.
bouv knew who he was, and there is no question that he made a mark on the world, especially if that mark is measured in the number of people you touched and that love you.
happy birthday bouv.
today's mileage: 4.77
total mileage: 70.24
ADDENDUM: in celebration of Steve's birthday...I'm going to increase my fundraising goal to $10,000. yeah, i know, crazy. but i've been thinking about it...and so...what better day than today. wish me luck.
on september 11, 1976, steven bouvier was born. what i'm sure was an adorable bundle grew up to be a man, a husband, a chemist, a skiier, a scholar, an uncle, a son-in-law, a brother-in-law, a friend, and a vermont-enthusiast. he was, by birth, a son, a little brother, a nephew, a cousin, a "bouv" and a red sox fan, and i know that he excelled in all categories. he grew an infectious smile, a certain swagger in his lanky walk, a great sense of humor, long hair, and the accent we all know and love.
when i was running today, at first it was really hard to tune out the dark implications of the day. there were cops not just on the big bridges, but the little footbridges that cross the FDR. the southbound side of the FDR was blocked off, and the constant buzz of the news and police helicopters were nearly impossible to ignore. but after i got my rhythm, i was able to tune them out and think about steve.
a few weeks ago, i was watching a very very cheesy girlie movie with my sister. ( if, by the way,after i describe this you know what movie i'm talking about, you lose all rights to mock me for watching it.) in this movie, one of the characters, a 12-year-old girl, has leukemia. her friend asks her if she is afraid, and she says not of death, but of time. she was afraid that she wouldn't figure out who she was, wouldn't have time to make her mark on the world.
bouv knew who he was, and there is no question that he made a mark on the world, especially if that mark is measured in the number of people you touched and that love you.
happy birthday bouv.
today's mileage: 4.77
total mileage: 70.24
ADDENDUM: in celebration of Steve's birthday...I'm going to increase my fundraising goal to $10,000. yeah, i know, crazy. but i've been thinking about it...and so...what better day than today. wish me luck.
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