Dear friends and family,


At about mile 19, as I was working my way up the 2nd of the three Newton hills, I felt my resolve fading. I let a thought about stopping enter my mind - something I promised myself I wouldn't do. And as I was tuning out my surroundings, and trying to bend my inner monologue in a positive direction, a couple of fans, face-painted and screaming, hopped onto the course along the side of the road, where I was making measured steps. "Josh, you got this", "Josh, keep pushing", "Josh, take those hills", "Josh... "... And the voice didn't go away - the fan was following me, compelling me forward, running along side. It may have only been a few seconds, but it seemed like a long pep talk... Long enough to help me look forward again - to once again take in the moment, among the other runners, within the crowds, inside a tradition of challenge.


The morning had started with a slow, dreamlike bus ride from the Public Gardens to Hopkinton. Then a long wait, chattering with other nervous and anxious Dana Farber runners awaiting the start - with an extremely exhuberant and inspiring Uta Pippig running around giving hugs and high fives and words of encouragement to all of us. And then I was in the corral, then walking forward, then jogging and then past the starting line...


The plan was to run at roughly a 9 minute pace for the first 20 miles, and then see what was left for the last 10K. As we pushed through Hopkinton, Ashland, Framingham, Natick and Wellesley, it all followed schedule. The first 1/2 marathon was almost exactly 2 hours, and I felt strong. And the crowds were amazing - almost deafening at times - pushing everyone forward.


But as I moved from Wellesley toward Newton, I began to lose my stride a little. It wasn't that I felt physically tired, I just began to have trouble focusing on the race and as a result, couldn't maintain a comfortable cadence that felt natural. And as I entered Newton, I began to feel a bit disoriented. So I began to start thinking about what to do. I also started to feel scared.


And then I felt like I might faint - I started to feel a little numb in my face, and I knew I had to do something, quickly. So when the next water station came by, I took two full cups of water, and drank them both while walking for about a minute. Almost immediately, I felt a lot better. I moved back to running, in a quick tempo, very short stride manner. Thinking back, I realized that I really hadn't been good about hydration - only taking tiny sips from cups up until this point - including a dramatic comical misfire, that landed most of a cup of gatorade all over my face and shoulder.


After another mile, I began to feel a little dizzy again, and a little queasy. I took another cup of water, and tried to figure out how to proceed. I needed to take care of my hydration problems and lightheadedness, and I was now heading for the Newton Hills, to be followed by 5 more miles to Boston. I felt a bit scared again. Back to one step at a time. I decided I would walk for 30 seconds at every water stop from now on to make sure I really drank the water, and to give myself a moment to hydrate. The first of the three hills was fine. The second hill proved much more challenging - but the fans pushed me forward.


As I was running past the 2nd hill, I heard a couple of runners say "heartbreak hill is done! we did it! on to Boston!". I knew that heartbreak will was just around the bend - still just out of view, but I wanted to believe them. The final hill wasn't as bad as I thought it would be - the fan support was unbelievable. I just looked down and kept my feet moving forward, and pretty soon I was at the top. It's all mental now - five miles of downhill to Boston.


As I came into Brookline, the demons came back. I began to feel lightheaded again, and I began to have doubts. So I took my mind to a different place. The day before, I shared a pasta dinner with dozens of children undergoing treatment at Dana Farber. Their challenge and fight was so difficult, their stories profoundly moving, and their strength, absolutely immeasurable. I thought about specific stories of loss and strength - I thought about my uncle - I thought about things that were much bigger than the moment. And when I looked up, I saw crowds - shouting my name, shouting the beautiful sounding "go daynah fahbah!!! It was more than enough. I was going to finish this.


And a few miles down, after a few brief hydration stops, I ran over a sign painted on the road "one mile left". The bright, reflecting John Hancock tower stood magestically ahead of me. And I knew I could set aside my mental games, my dizziness... My legs still felt strong, as if they were waiting through all the challenges of the past 6 miles to finally be called to duty again. So I picked up the pace, and headed down Commonwealth avenue. Around the bend... and there was Boylston St. in front of me. It was as though time stopped for a moment - I got the shivers, and felt a rush of emotion. I don't even remember making the final turn, I just remember suddenly facing the finish line, looking down Boylston St. into a sea of people and hearing the thunderous roar of support. I began to try to pick up speed, but it simply felt like I was floating. And the banner began to get closer... and closer... and suddenly, magically, I was through...


The next few hours were spent with friends and family in Copley Square. As the conversations turned lively and humorous my mind was still caught in the course somewhere. I came in and out of awareness of the moment. It still seemed a bit dreamlike.


Thank you all for your words of encouragement along the way, through the months of training and from the sidelines yesterday. For me this race was about people. It was about the kindness and generosity of others. It was about the strength of those who fight much harder battles and take on much more scary and difficult challenges. Most importantly, it was about the strong realization that we do not take on these challenges alone. I would not have made it through the race were it not for the support from friends and family through all the training. I would not have made it through the hills of Newton, through Brookline and into Boston if the best and most enthusiastic fans hadn't embraced my struggle with me along every step of the way. And I would not have felt the rush of emotion and pride at the end if these feelings had not been rooted and shared in a spirit of determination I have learned from those around me. When I stepped past the final line, all I wanted to do was find and be with those who had helped me get there.


The next few days will be spent gardening, recovering, reading and sleeping. In the weeks ahead, I will tune-up my bike and test out my new wetsuit. The Patriot half Ironman Triathlon at the end of June is the next big challenge. But for now, I'd rather reflect back on the powerful and profound experiences of the past few months, and imagine the smiling faces surrounding me once again, always pushing me forward when I need them most.


all my best wishes,


Josh


PS. During the marathon yesterday, I reached my fundraising goal with Dana Farber. Thank you all so much for your generosity. The work Dana Farber does is truly exemplary, and I plan to continue my fundraising efforts on their behalf in the future. My marathon fundraising page will remain active through August, 2010: http://www.rundfmc.org/2010/joshb Thank you again for your support.

thinking and tapering - the last week of training‏

A little over a week ago, my father drove me from Newton to Hopkinton. As the towns ticked off, winding down Rte. 135.... Needham, Wellesley, Natick, Framingham, Ashland... I began to think, "what am I getting myself into? - it seems like we've been driving forever, and I'm going to run this?". I tried to focus on the puddles, still scattered about the road from the severe March rains - I'd need to avoid these along the way. Individual puddles, single steps... these seemed like good things to focus on. The bigger picture seemed too big.
The plan was Hopkinton to the top of Heartbreak Hill - a pretty standard final long run in preparation for the marathon. My running shoes, Hansel and Gretel, were now led pretty far away into the woods - they just needed to find their way back to Newton. I hopped out of the car, and started on my way.
....Three and a half hours later, I barely remembered the cloudly, early morning and the dark woods of Ashland - it was a blur of thought. My legs were numb, and the sun had just emerged as I rounded the corner on Commonwealth Avenue. I looked up the concrete hill ahead and saw a small figure in the distance. I tried to kick in a last burst of energy - a comical attempt, drawing from the numbness and fatigue. But I pushed ahead, and eventually I could see my mother standing on the crest of the hill, waiting for me.
The marathon is now about one week away, and there is so much on my mind. But my thoughts are not about the miles I face or the fear of distance. They are not about a start or a finish, or counting the miles that lie between. My thoughts have turned to friends and family in the present tense. I had the privilege of experiencing celebrations of both Passover and Easter this past week. Both were strong reminders to me of the strength of family, friendship and community. They were reminders of the sacrifices of others, the blessings of the moment, and the responsibilies we all have to tell stories, share memories and make meaningful contributions to the world around us. There was a comfort in familiar songs, and an inspiration in singing new ones.
As a final note, before the marathon, I want to offer my best wishes for a peaceful and inspired Spring. I really look forward to being surrounded by people next Monday, seeing familiar faces and sharing in the challenge with so many people. I am running on behalf of Dana Farber, and will be carrying many wishes and memories with me. This past week, I lost a close relative to cancer, and he will be held dearly in my thoughts throughout the journey.
Thank you all again for your support and encouragement throughout my training. Your wishes and smiles have propped me up over the past months, and I know they will help give me a final push on my last steps down Boylston St. next week.
In an effort to help with fundraising for Dana Farber, my sister Sarah has donated some beautiful hand-made jewelry to the cause. Her work is inspired and generous, and I hope will be an incentive for you to make a contribution to this worthwhile cause. She has posted pictures of her work and a description of how to select pieces at:
http://www.girlbotjewelry.blogspot.com/
Please consider making a donation and receiving a small token of appreciation in return. My donation page can be found at:
http://www.rundfmc.org/2010/joshb
All my best wishes. You will be in my thoughts in the days ahead.
Josh

Charity & Winter Marathon Training‏‏

Dear friends,

A lot has happened since my last blog update (almost two months ago). Mostly, Winter. I've always been a hibernator - retreating into sleep and reading and slow motion as the temperatures dip and the sunlight fades. Training for the Boston Marathon has forced me to approach the Winter months in a new way, and that has been both envigorating and challenging. January running has taught me many things:
1. Watch the ground, always - there is ice and snow and mud everywhere, and one false step can be treacherous.
2. The wind is the worst - cold can be countered with layers, but an effective windbreaker makes all the difference. Gloves are also very important. As is good running food - my recent favorite has been "Sports Beans" - jelly beans with caffeine. I make deals with myself while running ("You make it to the Mass. Ave Bridge and you can have another handful of jelly beans!")
3. Too much thinking is not good. Any significant amount of thinking leads to the conclusion that I don't feel like running out in the cold. But once I'm running, and a few miles have gone by, it feels good - and there are no regrets.
I met with the Dana Farber group last night to talk about Winter running strategies, and steps to take to avoid injury. Over the past few months I've had the most common injuries/pains already - IT Band problems, Runner's knee and Achilles pain. For each, a steady battery of stretching and exercise has been very effective in alleviating the symptoms. I'm going to try to add yoga and track workouts to the program during the next 10 weeks leading up to the Marathon.
Meanwhile, there has been so much else to occupy my mind, from the devastation in Haiti, to the challenging political and economic times, to the daily social and work world. I have found that running for the Dana Farber Marathon Challenge has dramatically helped me to put things in perspective. Last night, a number of teamates went up to talk about their fundraising efforts. One was running for both of her parents, lost to cancer, and one was running for his young daughter, currently in treatment. Their stories were profound and moving, and their strength was inspirational. Their training and efforts had helped to bring their families together, and bring others into their circles of friendship and support. Many other runners were running for specific patients at Dana Farber and there was a long hallway, filled with dozens of large posters for their patient-partners. We all spent considerable time signing messages on the posters - words of support and encouragement to so many people.
Driving home last night, I felt a strong awakening of energy. Spring is far away, but I want to run strong during the next couple of months of cold. In a couple of weeks, I will be running a 1/2 marathon in Cocoa Beach, Florida and then one in Palm Springs, California the week after - so I will have a little taste of warmer weather. Then it will be back to New England - the Hyannis 1/2 Marathon and then my long March runs from 16-22 Miles, most of which will take place on the Boston Marathon route.
I am almost halfway to my charity goal - but I also know that the 2nd half is sometimes much harder. I write in the hopes that you will consider supporting Dana Farber's Marathon Challenge effort this New Year. There is much uncertainty in the news, in the economy and in the larger world right now. However, gestures of charity have always carried a hope with them, certain to gently push our collective actions and thoughts in positive directions.
Please join me in this effort:
http://www.rundfmc.org/2010/joshb
best wishes,
Josh

Late Summer Weather

Yesterday was a strange day. A few hours after commuting to work in the dark, driven rain, the sun magically emerged and the temperature soared. I decided that once December hit, I would allow day to day weather have a say in my weekly workout schedule. So seizing the moment, I drove home after work and hit the pavement. My new favorite route is a half marathon on the Charles - the distance works perfectly from my house. I run to the Arsenal entrance to the Charles, then down to the Mass. Ave. bridge on the Boston Side, across the river, and then back on the Cambridge side. I've started to map out different distance on GMap - the google based pedometer. This route can be found HERE.

It was a really pretty run - featuring the occasional awkward and often failing long jump across puddles. I tried to push myself a bit. When I did the same run last Sunday, I did it at a leisurely jog. This time, my goal was to be under 2 hours. I came in at 1:54. Over the next few months, I will be running longer distances, and several official 1/2 marathons. One goal is to try to run one in under 1:50. If I can do this, it will help set up a second goal, which is to run the marathon in under 4 hours.

The long run was followed by a great Boston Symphony concert and a pretty late night - so it's off to work now and then maybe a long nap before my Friday swim..... cheers.

Holiday Inspiration and Giving

Last night, at our second Dana Farber Marathon Challenge meeting, a microphone was passed around a crowded room and people told stories. Some were about fundraising strategies, some were about running in the bitter cold, but most were about a personal reason for running. And that reason was usually a person – a lost loved one, a child in treatment, a dear friend making a valiant fight. One man spoke about losing his 22 year old sister – he talked about how they used to run together, and how her spirit remained such a powerful force in his training and efforts in fundraising. I spoke at length to a breast cancer survivor, who began running years ago, slowly building up her distances – and the marathon represented a dream of recovery, a real triumph of life. Each story was unique and moving, and filled my mind and heart.

The meeting went on, and we were prepped about Winter running gear, visited by a somewhat racy Santa Claus who delivered us t-shirts and caps, and briefed about myriad long distance runs planned for the months ahead. Jack Fultz, our coach and former marathon winner, gave an inspired talk about how to train safely, and find our own pace to the finish line. But the personal stories kept lingering in my mind. I wanted to picture faces, look at photo albums, hear more details – things I could carry in my mind to hold onto the compassion and profoundly positive determination so pervasive in the room. It also made me want to run – not just to clock the miles in a journal or to convince myself that I would be able to reach the finish line – but rather to share in this challenge with the other members of the team. Their stories are inextricably linked to so many people and our stories collectively have become intertwined through running.

It is hard to convey this growing personal connection to the team and to the cause in emails and words. But I write in the hopes that you will consider helping to strengthen this collective cause and effort. Every gesture of support, no matter how small, conveys a larger camaraderie and sense of community. At the meeting, the leaders unveiled a large map of the Boston Marathon route, with a small marker at mile one – indicating a small step in collective fundraising, toward an end 25 miles down the road. Movement along this colorful map was a powerful and compelling symbol for all of us – because it showed the physical challenge ahead of us in distance markings on scribbled roads, but it traversed this course in steps defined by the generosity of others and the collective charity work of all of us. It mapped the progression of a more universal stride. It is to this larger effort - a movement comfortably paced by so many inspired people – that I invite you. Know that your participation transcends the real dollars necessary to help move this organization forward in its research and treatment – it also serves to share the struggles and challenges and memories of others – something that is fundamental to our humanity, and meaningful beyond words to those in need of support.

I also write to offer everyone my best wishes for the holiday season. Please consider making a holiday gift in support of this larger community and charity effort at:

http://www.runDFMC.org/2010/joshb

Happy Thanksgiving

After a chilly, drizzly 10K today, I'm ready for a little extra sleep over the next few days. This past week, I was able to keep with my schedule, except for swapping out tuesday's run with today's planned workout. I'm still pretty sore from lifting yesterday. I'm trying to mix in a little heavy lifting over the winter, simply to strengthen my upper body for swimming and legs for increased speed in biking and running. I'm afraid of injury, so I'd rather do this before my endurance workouts become too long. I also want to do some track workouts - and will either do this with Dana Farber or Community running. It might mean missing my next chorus concert, but I'll just have to see what the scheduling is like.

Meanwhile, I am now officially registered for three 1/2 marathons in February:

Music 1/2 Marathon, Cocoa Beach, FL - February 7th
Palm Springs 1/2 Marathon, Palm Springs, CA - February 14th
Hyannis 1/2 Marathon, Hyannis, MA - February 28th

It will be nice to have two warm races at the beginning of the month, and I'll have about 10 days to run in southern California during my February break. March is still open, and I may opt to simply run all the Dana Farber distance runs in preparation for the Marathon, instead of trying to find official races. It would be nice to find something for January, but there aren't any good New England races, and I won't be able to get away during the month. I'll have to have the bundle-up-and-run philosophy.

The next step is to plan the races leading up to the half ironman in late June. This will be a combination of bike races, running races and maybe a smaller triathlon. Normally, I'd put this off until much later, but I now know how quickly these races fill up during the winter, so I'm trying to plan ahead.

am i still outside
hidden beneath the layers
listening inward

cursing cold drizzle
how I'll miss you in summer
on the hot pavement

Training Week

After a bit of a whirlwind week, I am enjoying a leisurely Saturday morning. Yesterday had that feel of early Spring - and it was displacing. Today just feels like an unusually warm Autumn day. I followed my workout schedule for the week, and I think it is a good balance. The two 6 mile runs felt really strong and fast, and swimming on Monday and Friday are good preparations and antidotes for these runs. The swim on Monday made my legs feel warmed up on Tuesday, and I never really felt the early fatigue of running the first few miles while your legs are still a bit stiff. And yesterday's swim was extremely relaxing - and I tried to work in some interval training to build up speed (something I still lack quite a bit in swimming). On wednesday I tried out the bike trainer for a full hour. It was definitely boring, but at the same time very effective. Hopefully, I'll be able to do a real ride on Sunday.

And today should be perfect for a 12 miles run - sunny and in the 50's. I feel pretty lucky to have the Charles (or the St. Charles, as Tom Cruise calls is) so close by. It will also be a day for raking leaves, putting away outdoor furniture, and running errands.

I've also begun to daydream a bit about triathlons - often while swimming back and forth monotonously at the pool. I recently found a really great and inspiring Lake Placid Ironman blog:

http://ironmanlife.blogspot.com/2006/07/ouch-or-ironman-usa-lake-placid-race.html

I really look forward to the half IM's this summer, and for the spring weather that will allow me to swim again at Walden (this time with a wetsuit) and do brick workouts. Meanwhile, it is fun to read personal accounts of the races.

thoughts under water
imagine distant races
in time and measure

light in november
like ephemeral summers
in midday hours