Reminiscing About Boston 2004

Apparently, midriff tops were acceptable in 2004.

There have been so many blogs I've read lately that have mentioned the Boston Marathon.  So many runners are starting to get ready for their 2011 Boston training, some are making plans to have a blog meet up there, and so many are just so excited!  I'm so excited for them!

 A shout out to two of my favorite blog friends who will be running Boston :  The Hungry Runner Girl and Elkton Runner.  Reading their blogs tonight got me thinking about when I ran Boston in 2004 and made me want to go through old pictures and remember that time in my life. 

 I was 25 years old in 2004 and I was teaching 3rd grade at the time.  My husband and I were newly weds living in a cute little apartment in a trendy neighborhood in the city.  Life was full of adventure, travel and and possibilities!

When I qualified for Boston at my first marathon, I had no idea what it really meant or what to expect.  I just knew that I should probably  take advantage of the opportunity to run it when I could because who knew what turns life would take and when I'd have the chance again.  I am so glad I decided to run it!  It is one of my favorite memories and tonight I've decided to celebrate my memory of Boston by sharing some pictures to go along with this post. 

But first....HOW did 7 years already pass by since I ran this race??!  What?!  It seems like just yesterday!  I don't feel older than I did at 25.  I don't look any older either.  Ha, okay, so maybe a little bit but I can  tell myself whatever I want, right?  And nothing in life has really changed unless you count the 3 kids I've popped out, our move to the suburbs, our 7 years of marriage, my career change, and just a few major traveling experiences.  Not much at all.  I might as well still be 25! 

 But seriously, life goes by before we know it and it really is too short to not do what we love.  For so many of us on here, Running is a passion and when we can't run, life isn't as enjoyable.  Coming back from injury makes me so much more aware of what a special gift running is.  I understand now (after my first major injury) just how difficult it is for runners who can't run due to injury.  I'm also beyond thankful to be back and I'm excited to train for another marathon and hopefully run Boston again in 2012 or 2013.  I have not run a marathon since Boston.  Portland Marathon was going to be my 3rd and I was hoping to be in Boston in 2011.  I'm okay with everything that has happened though.  In fact, I'm convinced that my injury was a blessing in disguise (as most things in life are).  Because of my injury, I was challenged to truly reflect on my life, think about things I wouldn't have thought of otherwise, and realize the things that matter most.  I also learned some new things in the process, found other ways to exercise that I hadn't tried before, and I started this blog as an outlet!  So glad I did!  Oh, and because of my injury, I have a fire and determination in me that I never before had as an athlete...It will fun to see what I can do with it! 

Enough of the almost midnight ramblings.  Here are some photos of my Boston 2004 experience. 

Getting ready to head to the bus that took us to the holding area before the start.  I wish I still had some of that muscle in my quads!  Oh, and forget the muscle...where the heck did my boobs go?!  The ones in this picture are so far gone it isn't even funny!  Yes, that's right, nursing three kids and not having much to begin with really sucks it out of a girl!  Good thing my husband didn't marry me me for my perfect B cups because those are history folks!

Ha!  Check out those stylin' shorts!  

I'm pretty sure this is at the top of Heartbreak Hill.  My husband had the perfect spot!  I still can't get over how amazing it was to have sooooo many people cheering on the sidelines.  Every single step was filled with so much energy.  My first marathon was The Napa Valley Marathon where I pretty much ran alone on open roads through vineyards so this was such a different experience. 

So proud and JOYFUL to have finished!  3:32:35.   It was so fun to return to my third grade class on Monday.  They thought I was a superstar!  So cute.  The entire school had announced my progress throughout the race as they received news of it from my timing chip.  The librarian even taped it for the kids to watch.  The kids seriously thought that I was waaaaay better than I really was.  They thought that I won it or something and that they would actually see me on the race coverage!  So funny.   Adorable.  I loved seeing those little faces light up and hearing their shouts and cheers when I walked in the room.  It was all icing on the entire Boston experience. 

Getting dressed after the race.  So HIGH on Running!  Before the race, someone was passing around a marker and we all wrote our names on our body.  It was so cool to hear my name being shouted out from people along the sidelines.  It was as if they were all there just for me!

Ewwww, bloody shoes!  Definitely time to get some new ones! Shoes, not boobs. 

 And this is when I should have gone directly back to the hotel to take an ICE bath!  Instead I took a warm bath and went out on the town for the night.  Stupid, stupid, stupid.  I almost had to use a wheel chair in the airport on my way home because I hurt so badly but pride got in the way and I made my way onto the plane!  Next time...Ice bath!

A close up of my shoes.  I'm kind of glad that my toes were bleeding because doesn't the blood just look cool?! 

Okay, we really do look way younger here than we do now.  At least by a few years. 

And this one is just funny because woah, who dresses like that?  What a dork!  Really?  A jean jacket with jeans?  hmmm.  But note that I wore my medal out on the town.  Damn right!  I worked hard for that medal.  Ask me where it is now though and I probably couldn't tell you. 

Thanks for letting me share!  Thinking of all you blogger friends out there that are gearing up for Boston 2011 or working to qualify in the future! 

What is one of your favorite running or race memories?  Please share! 

Amanda

Passion, Determination and The Will To Run

I grew up hearing stories of my dad.  I heard all about his strong will, his dreams, things he said and did. My mom would tell me that I was his "little princess" and that he loved me so much.  I heard about his love and passion for running and how he would run every day in the mountains of Dillon, Colorado no matter the weather.  She told me of his dreams to someday run fast enough to qualify for the Olympics.  I heard  of  his will to fight and his determination to not give up when both of his legs were smashed in an accident and he was told he would never walk again.  I heard the stories about how he not only taught himself to walk again but he was able to run again right before he died. These are only stories to me because my dad died when I was 4.  I grew up wishing that I knew these things for myself and that I had my own stories about him to remember.  I always wished so badly that I would have known him and been able to hear him tell me he loved me.  

It wasn't until I started running and experiencing the pure joy of how it fills my soul so deeply, that I finally felt my dad in my life.  When I would run, I often felt as if my dad was running with me and telling me he loved me.  Discovering myself as a runner made me feel a connection to my him that I never had before and because of this, running was quite an emotional experience for me at first.  Discovering the joy of running also made me realize just how happy my dad must have been right before he died.  What joy he must have felt to have started to run again after being told he would never again walk!  What Pure Joy!

Today I got several boxes from my Aunt that were filled with old pictures and keepsakes from my grandparents' house.  I wasn't prepared for the emotions that would hit me tonight as I looked through my dad's baby pictures, pictures as child, baby clothes, letters he had written to my grandparents about us kids and his life, and so much more. 

Here are just a few pictures of the things that I connected with the most. 

My Dad. Texas Relays 1967

Medals from 1966 and 1967.  I wish I would have listened more carefully when my grandfather took me to my dad's high school in Texas to show me his record in the mile that stood for so long.  Back then, a race time didn't mean much to me.  All I can remember is that his high school time was a sub 4:30.  I want to say 4:15 but that would only be my best guess.  I wish I could call my grandfather and have him tell me the story again. 



After my hamstring tear this past August, I went through a very difficult time.  I was so depressed and I wanted to run again so badly. It felt as if all the months of work I had put into marathon training was a waste.  I could see my goals of running a 3:15 marathon just fly away with the wind and there was nothing I could do about it.   I was in denial that my leg was as bad as it was and continued to try to run even though I could barely walk and the bruising covering my leg made it obvious that things were not okay.  I was stupid and stubborn.  That's when my mom reminded me of the stories about my dad and his determination to run.  Her story really put things in perspective for me.  I'm so glad I asked her to write it down because it is a beautiful:

Passion and Determination

In light of my daughter's recent injury (torn hamstring) while training for the Portland marathon that is coming up in October, I'm reminded of the drive, determination, and passion of an athlete.  Watching Amanda struggle with the different opinions of her doctors, her frustration over the possibility of not running the marathon she's been training so hard for, and her strong will to heal and keep running despite the pain and the well-meaning advice from everyone to just rest, reminded me of another athlete who was once in my life.


My late husband (Amanda's father) was a runner, too.  In our first few years together he never missed his morning run, ten miles through the forest near our mountain home.  He ran through snow, rain and sometimes even if he wasn't feeling very well.  On April 1, 1980 David and I decided to take a drive to Denver (we lived near Silverthorne, CO) and visit some friends.  On the east bound side of the tunnel the roads began to get icy, and before we knew it we were driving on black ice.  We were inching along I-70 at about 15 miles per hour when we saw a car lose control and slide off in a ditch, a woman and child.  We got off at the first exit we could, and turned around to help them out of the ditch.  By the time we got to them other cars were beginning to pull off to the side of the road due to the dangerous conditions.  David was hooking up the needed equipment to pull the car out of the ditch when all of a sudden someone driving way too fast lost control of their truck, pinning David between our truck and theirs.  We didn't have cell phones then, and were in an area where there wasn't anyplace to go for help.  Thankfully, someone in one of the other cars along the side of the road had a CB Radio, and they called for help.  It was 7:00 PM before an ambulance could make it to David. (the accident happened at 5:00 PM!).  While we waited people from the other cars brought him blankets to keep him as warm as possible.  The ambulance transported him a little ways down the mountain where he was then airlifted by Flight For Life to the nearest hospital in Denver.


David almost died that night.  Both of his legs were broken so severely that he needed massive blood tranfusions, steel rods in both femurs, and numerous bands, pins and screws to piece his bones back together.  David spent three months with his legs hanging in traction (pure torture for a runner who never missed his daily run).  I lost track of the number of surgeries he had to endure over the course of a year and a half.  The doctors were seriously doubtful that he'd ever walk again.  David didn't let that deter him, though.  After about a year he taught himself to walk!  It was like watching a baby taking his first steps.  He'd take a step or two, and then he'd fall to the ground.  He'd get back up and do it again, and again.  Two years after the accident he was starting to run again!


I wish I could say he is running marathons again.  However, in October of 1982 David was killed when a ditch he was working in caved in on him.  His passion for running, strong will, and determination lives on in our children.  Both Jesse and Amanda have the same love for running that David did.  His spirit lives on in them.

Amanda

First Run and A Window Into My Healing Process

My therapy appointment today went better than I could have hoped.  My sports chiropractor told me that I could try out light running.  Music to my ears!  My heart laughed when I heard this! Of course, knowing my personality, he specified LIGHT and said that it shouldn't be for a workout but only to start getting used to the motion again.  I'm so EXCITED! He also gave me the go ahead to start doing light lunges and squats and other types of strength training.   I know this doesn't mean that I'm back to running normally again but it is a first step and that makes me feel hopeful and happy! 

So, of course I had to try out my light run tonight as soon as I got the kids in bed and had free time.  I only ran about a half mile.  I don't even know if you would consider it running but more of a shuffle jogish thing.  I couldn't lift my leg very well and I don't think I am at the point where I can even attempt to run fast yet but I'm taking it all in stride.  Baby steps.  A positive outlook goes a long way.  Here's a picture of me about to go on my first run (with permission) since my injury.

Total Cheese but feeling happy!

Since this is partly a running blog and a way for me to document my transition back into running again, I thought I'd write a bit about what life has been like for me since August 15th when I fell in the forest and injured my hamstring.

I've always been one of those runners that is lucky to have never had a serious injury.  I never understood or gave much attention to all the articles in Runner's World about running smart to prevent injury, or how to recover quickly, etc.  I just knew I loved to run and I ran often.  Injuring myself at a time that I was running better than ever before and on track for a personal best in the marathon was in and of itself devastating. What was more difficult was that running and training seriously for something had become an outlet and goal for me to focus on  in the place of having a job outside my home.  Temporarily giving up my teaching career to stay at home with the kids has been a wonderful decision and I wouldn't trade it for the world but I still find myself needing personal goals and engaging in things I'm passionate about.  Training seriously as a runner was that.  It was a piece of ME every day and I felt so fulfilled with my progress and accomplishments.  Writing my workouts down in my running log provided such joy and because of my hard work and progress as a runner, I had more to give to my family. 

After my injury, it took a few weeks for me to adjust to the redirection my life was taking.  Not everyone understood this.  I had people in my life who just didn't understand why I would have any reason to be depressed over something like a hamstring injury when I had three beautiful kids, a husband that adores me and an overall wonderful life.  I don't know if you can truly make someone understand this type of feeling if they don't already just get it.  I was depressed, frustrated, and impatient.  I just wanted to be healed and back to running.  I even held on to the hope that I would still run the Portland Marathon and be just fine.  Even after the MRI showed that I had a complete tear of one of the hamstring muscles, I still tried to run despite the pain and difficulty lifting my leg.  Yeah, pretty stupid. 

It wasn't until I had time to redirect my focus and surrender to the fact that I would have to just be still and heal that I saw this as an amazing opportunity to reevaluate my goals as a runner and make plans for how I can use this injury to make me stronger.  I've been incredibly inspired by my sports chiropractor,  Dr. Ted Forcum at Back In Motion Sports Injuries Clinic.  He is truly gifted at what he does and incredibly knowledgeable in his field.  I switched to him after having less success with other therapists and when I googled him (yes, I'm one of those people that google people), I was so inspired by all he has done!  I was humbled that he was working on my hamstring once I knew all the great athletes he has done therapy on.  

My therapy with Dr. Forcum has been painful and left lots of bruising but I trust him completely to do whatever he decides to try.  The painful part of the therapy has been from something called The Graston Technique which is a technique used to break down scar tissue.  I just know it as an extremely painful form of torture that leaves bruising.  Here are the torture devices used on me:

Dr. Forcum preparing his Graston tools for torture

And here we go to my happy place.  My breathing techniques that I learned in birthing class actually come in handy here. 

After the painful part I always get to enjoy some quiet time getting ultrasound and electric stimulation.  This part is fun because 1.  I get to read magazines in quiet , 2.  Quiet time without kids, and 3. Did I mention that I get quiet time without kids?

After Graston Technique.  Already starting to bruise.  We can all use a little color in our life. 

At the end of the appointment, Dr. Forcum always comes to use this awesome kinesio taping that looks pretty cool and has become my favorite accessory the past 9 weeks!  Today he even taught me how to tape myself.  He was so good about taking pictures for me so I could share it on my blog.  He's a busy man too so I was really loving the extra time he took to snap shots with my camera.

The best part of my day?  For sure being told that I can start my steps towards running again.  However small my steps are and however slow I run, I'm still one step closer to where I want to be.

Amanda

Returning to Running and Remembering Me

Okay, here I go!  I'm one of those people that has never understood blogging or had any desire to blog before until now.  What's different?  I'm on my second year of stay-at-home motherhood and finding myself with an overwhelming desire for an outlet or form of expression for myself....a way to use my brain and rekindle my passions...a way to not lose myself in motherhood but rather excel at it because of keeping myself passionately alive!  Don't get me wrong, I love being a mother!  It is what I always wanted.  I love everything it means to be home with my three children and watch them grow up.  I love being a part of their every day and being around to celebrate when they first discover the world! 

Leaving my job as a teacher has been one of the hardest decisions of my life.  I'm passionate about teaching.  Teaching makes me feel alive.  When I'm teaching and touching lives, I feel like I'm using my gifts. Being away from my job as a teacher has left me feeling waves of  being unmotivated and uninspired.  There are times I find myself forgetting about my passions for early literacy  instruction, writing, and what it is like to inspire learners.  I think that is what so many stay-at-home mothers struggle with...finding the balance between giving to your children and keeping yourself alive and passionate. 

So, that brings me to the running part of runninghood...Running has always been a way for me to be spiritual and passionate.  It is soul food.  Running keeps me whole, balanced, and deliciously excited about life! It is my outlet, my joyful prayer that brings me home to myself and reminds me of my gifts and passions! It is now, when I find myself unable to run that I feel the most lost in life. 

 I ran competitively in high school and college and I continued to run for fun and self fulfillment.  My running slowed down considerably once I started having babies and now that we're done, I find myself wanting to run more than ever.  I don't just want to run...I want to finally push past my limits as a runner.  I want to discover what I can do without the emotional barriers that limited me before.  I want to run to feel alive! I want to run to clear my head and remind myself of me. I crave running more than I've craved something in a long time.

A little over two months ago, while training for the Portland Marathon, I destroyed my hamstring from a fall in the forest at mile 9 of an 18 miler.  Okay, so "destroy" is a little dramatic but that is how it felt to me.  I completely tore one of the hamstring muscles and it has changed my pace in life quite a bit.  Going from running a considerable amount of mileage and being on track for a personal record in the Portland Marathon to not being able to do much activity at all left me feeling depressed, a little lost and needing something to fill the void in my personal endeavors.  This injury also lit a fire within me to do something great with running, my professional passions, and motherhood. What better way to focus on our goals and passions than to reflect and live within ourselves for a bit and what better what to do that than write! 

I'm on the mend...After 9 weeks of therapy with a sports chiropractor, lots of positive thinking and prayer, and an incredible amount of love and support from friends and family, I am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.  My goal is to start running again by the new year!  I'm hoping that I'll not only run again, but I'll find myself running like I've never imagined possible.  I'm hoping for personal growth as a runner as well as a mother, educator, wife and friend. 

So, that's what this blog will be for me...an opportunity to reflect, set goals, and write about my journey as a mother, runner, educator, and student of life!   Here's hoping that this will help light a much needed spark in my soul!