Still in the Race

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I'm still here, people! It's been a busy month, but I've been working hard, training hard, and even raising some money for Charley's Fund since last I posted.

First, I want to say thanks to the folks at Charley's Fund who sent me an awesome pair of yoga pants and a cute tank top to train in. They were so excited when the funds started coming in and so impressed with my fundraising and training goal that they wanted to send me a thank you gift. Thank YOU, everyone who donated!

Second, I started training a great group of ladies for the ASYMCA Mud Run 8K (August 7) and am donating $5 for each one who joined me. I had two dozen sign up (plus a few Stroller Strides instructors who also have donated), and team Run Like a Mother has raised $135 for Charley's Fund! We've got cute shirts with the Charley's Fund logo on the back as well. And we're four weeks out from our race now - so exciting!

Third, my official training for the NYC Marathon has begun, and I have run two races since my last post. The CHKD Run/Walk for the Kids was inspiring. I pushed both my boys in the stroller for all 5 miles, and I got to start the race with Team Hoyt, runners who push disabled kids in running strollers and wheelchairs while raising funds for their cause.

And this morning I ran the Metro Dash at Mount Trashmore, which was about 2.6 miles long but included over a dozen challenges (stairs, hill sprints, lunges, push-ups, tire flipping, bear crawling, and an 8-foot wall hurdle, among other crazy exercises). It was tough, for sure, but it was a lot of fun too. Next week I will begin adding miles to my weekend long runs again as I work my way up to 26.2.

I've got other fundraising events in the works over the next few months, but of course I would love it if you would make a donation to Charley's Fund to support my efforts. I'm running 50 races in 50 states - maybe you could donate 50 bucks to help find a cure for DMD?

A Very Good Day

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Yesterday was a good day. I started my National Running Day by joining other local running enthusiasts at the Virginia Beach Oceanfront to run along the boardwalk. Most of us will do anything for a t-shirt, and there were quite a few diehards out there with me at 6:30 AM to claim one of the 50 J&A Racing had to offer. I had planned to go alone and leave both the boys at home with their dad, but Roan decided he wanted to join me, I guess, because he woke up at 5:45 instead of his usual 6:30. I laced up my shoes and put him in the car, and we headed east.

On the way down to the beach, I was reminded how much I love the early morning hours. Most of the world is still sleeping (including the guy in the truck I parked next to at 1st Street), and it’s invigorating to be out of the house and communing with nature just an hour or so after the sun has risen. The wide, empty beaches, the slowly rolling, pink-tinged waves, and the cloud-filled sky made my 3 miles seem downright meditative. Roan, thumb in mouth, was out before I’d even covered a block.



When we finished our run, we gathered next to the newest addition to the Virginia Beach resort area, Grommet Island Park. The “park for everyBODY” was built so all children could enjoy it, even (and perhaps most specifically) those in wheelchairs. Complete with ramps and boardwalks and low-level activity stations and free-for-the-borrowing beach wheelchairs, the playground will be a destination for boys like Owen who have DMD, and I could not help but think about the Liddics as I pushed Roan around the playground in the stroller. I looked at my watch and realized that Owen’s mom was probably en route to the hospital, so I took a picture and sent her a message to let her know she was in my thoughts.

I finished my run at about 7:05 yesterday morning, and 12 hours later Owen’s little sister Lucy was born. We can’t wait to meet her and to congratulate Owen for becoming a big brother in person!

Pushin' It

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I haven’t been as consistent with running lately as I’d like to be (and as I know I will need to be come July when the real training for NYC begins). I could list oh so many excuses (allergies, teaching and taking Stroller Strides more often, party planning for a special little boy, hot and humid weather, cold and rainy weather, etc.), but I know I will soon need to put my weekly runs a little higher on my priority list. So yesterday I laced up my shoes and went for a run with Roan in the stroller, even though the weather was iffy and I had already taken a Stroller Strides class that morning. We headed over to Mount Trashmore to find the place almost deserted. The wind whipped around the hill, and the skies looked like they could open up any minute. I checked the weather on my phone for reassurance, and it still said only a 10% chance of rain, so I pulled out the stroller and got ready to run.

It was one of those days custom made for excuses, but I kept pushing that stroller. I didn’t have a distance in mind; I was just running. I made it around the big loop, around the hill and the lake, and saw Lei, my friend and fellow Stroller Strides instructor, near the parking lot. There was an afternoon class set to begin in another 10 minutes or so, and I told her I might join them if I made it back around in time. She replied, “We’re taking it all the way around today!”

I continued on, and I knew I had a choice. I could run the whole loop (another 2 miles) and miss the start of the class, or I could run the small loop around the hill and make it back to the parking lot in time to join them in their workout. But did I really have enough energy left for another 2 miles? PLUS the exercises and the stairs?

I leaned over and looked at Roan in the stroller to find that he STILL hadn’t fallen asleep, even though I’d been running for over 20 minutes. It was not a good sign. I decided to run the small loop and see how he did. If he fell asleep, I might have another hour of stroller time available. If he didn’t, I could use him as an excuse to not take the class, and at least I would have gotten about 3 miles in.

As I neared the parking lot 10 minutes later, Lei and two other moms were warming up. Roan was still awake - the perfect excuse - but I decided to join them anyway. I could always cut around the hill or turn back after the first set of stairs instead of going all the way around the lake again. I HAD just run 3 miles, and I DID have a frequently-fussy baby who still hadn’t fallen asleep. No one would blame me for quitting.

I entertained thoughts like that for the next 15 minutes as we took to the stairs not once, but twice. At one point I even said, “I think I overestimated how much more I have in me today.” I thought about all the excuses to stop running, about all the reasons it would be OK to just quit and call it a day, but I kept going. I kept pushing that stroller.

At one point during a difficult series of lunges, when I was at the point where I would have to commit to the long loop or turn back, Roan started fussing. He still hadn’t fallen asleep, my legs felt like they were made of lead, and I had just about decided I was going to turn back. I had my exit strategy all mapped out. But when Lei told us to grab our strollers and head to the next station, I surprised myself a little when I turned the stroller toward the lake and started running. I kept pushing that stroller.

Then a funny thing happened. Once I made that choice to keep pushing through the doubt, pushing through the soreness, pushing through the thoughts that I couldn’t do it, I started to feel stronger. I led the way to the next station without hesitation (and Roan even fell asleep on that long stretch – a nice bonus), and for the next mile and a half, I pushed even harder than I had in the first three. There was no turning back at that point – no easy exit available – and I just kept pushing that stroller, but it somehow seemed lighter.

In the end, I ran about 5 miles, in addition to the other elements of the class (and the one I had taken that morning). I had a little voice in my head telling me it would be OK to quit, that no one would blame me, but I kept pushing. I’m lucky to be able to do this, I thought. I have the physical strength to run 5 miles while pushing a stroller. My legs work, so why the hell shouldn’t I use them? There are far too many people in the world who would love to be able to walk a block. I CAN run, so I do. I will. I will keep pushing myself – and my stroller – to give hope to those who can’t.

The families of boys with DMD push through hard times every day. The researchers keep pushing limits to find new treatments and keep pushing to find a cure. As long as these people keep pushing, I will too, and I hope you’ll join me.

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Go me! (Go you!)

First, I want to say thanks to all of you who have shown me support as I have gotten 50 Races, 50 States going these past few weeks. I've got two races in two states planned this year for sure, and there's still the possibility of one or two more, and I have heard from so many people with offers for places to stay when I get to certain states in the future, which will be a great help. I've also gotten several generous donations to get my fundraising off to a great start. Your support means the world to me, and it really helps to keep me going when I'm out there racking up the miles (36 total in the 6 weeks since I got the OK to run again after Roan was born - a pretty good start!).

Second, I want to share something exciting that happened last weekend at the Jewish Family Services 5K, my second race since giving birth - I actually placed in my age group! Here's a pic of me getting my medal, which Aren wore for the rest of the day. :)


Now this is something that has never happened for me. I like to run races, so I run a lot, but I am not a really fast runner. In fact, I just started consistently running rather than run/walking races about two years ago.

When Louise and I crossed the finish line at the Live By Example 5K back in April, I felt so good and knew I could have run it even faster. I was still walk/running at that point, just a few weeks after getting the OK from my midwife to get back out there, and for my next race I had the choice between running the JFS 5K or walk/running the 8K. I decided to sign up for the 5K and give it all I had, and that's what I did. It was a little humid and pretty breezy Sunday morning, but I still finished in 30:42, 18 seconds faster than my goal time! I had hoped to keep up a 10-minute mile pace, and I did even better than that. (I think I also lucked out in that most of the faster 30-somethings ran the 8K rather than the 5K that day, but it doesn't matter to me.)

3rd place out of 17 is the best I have ever done, and I really do have you all to thank for it. It helps to have a support team behind me, and of course it's easy to run when I have a cause like Charley's Fund and a reason like Owen in mind. There were a few moments early in the race when I felt like I should stop and walk - I was once again running against the wind for half of the race - but I didn't. You were the hand at my back telling me to keep moving forward.

Be the Wind

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This morning I went for a run on the beach, something I haven’t done in a long time. I’m just getting back out there after having Roan (who turns 11 weeks old today), and although I can comfortably run 3.1 miles now, even the 20 minutes I had set out to run today was unbelievably tough. I don’t often run on the beach because it seems like I’m always training for a race, and although I enjoy watching the waves and breathing the salt air as I run, I feel like it holds me back from adding distance, which is what most of my training for races is all about. Two miles on the beach feels like 3 or 4 miles to me.

Since it was my last day in Avon, I put on my shoes and headed down the street to the beach access. Once I made it to the top of the stairs, I looked up and saw what could have been a snowstorm in the distance. In the valley between the dunes as far as I could see (which wasn’t very far) was fog. Thick, white fog. The wind whipped my ponytail around my head, and I zipped up the sweatshirt I was glad I had decided to put on. I crossed over the second dune to the beach and found that while the fog wasn’t as oppressive there, the wind was even more so. I looked to my right and saw the pier to the south and decided that even though the first mile (which is always harder for me than any that come after it) would be run against the wind, I would go that way. It would be nice to have the wind at my back on the return trip.

I headed toward the pier and trudged through deep, soft sand until I found a firmer footing and leaned into the 25 mph wind. There were a few other people out walking along the beach and looking for shells, but I was the lone runner. I waved hello and panted out an occasional “good morning” as I inched toward the pier. On my way there, I decided that even if the little voice from the running application on my phone didn’t tell me the pier was my halfway point (10 minutes into the run), I would turn around then because I didn’t think I could run much farther than that. Five or six minutes of running into that wind, and I was ready to give up.

I heard the “halfway point” notification as I tapped one of the pier’s pilings and turned around. With the wind at my back, I suddenly felt like a Kenyan! It was as if I had been pulling a hundred-pound plow before and had dropped it there at the pier to run unencumbered on my way back. With a new store of energy and enthusiasm, I ran back toward my starting point and made it there in almost half the time. I passed my beach access with several minutes left to run and marveled at how much easier having the wind at my back could be. That wind pushed me along, lifted me up, and gave me the confidence to turn off that little voice in my head that tells me to give up. I felt so good at that point that I ran with that wind until the little voice in my headphones said, “run completed, 20 minutes,” and then I decided to turn around. And I saw I had several blocks to go to get to my beach access.

Now here I was again, running against the wind. But I was not going to stop. I thought about how easy it felt with that encouraging wind helping me along, and instead of thinking about how hard it was to run against it, I thought about why I was running. I remembered sitting on the porch at the beach house just an hour earlier looking into Roan’s eyes as he woke up from a nap in my arms. I thought about his big brother Aren. I thought about the future my two little boys have ahead of them. And then I thought about Owen, and I thought about his little sister Lucy who is due in just a few weeks.

Then a thought hit me – a horrible but unfortunately all-too-real thought – unless a cure for DMD is found soon, Lucy will outlive her big brother. That thought hit me like a wave, and I began crying. With winds gusting up to 35 mph in my face, I kept running, and I said to myself, “I am doing this for Aren. I am doing this for Roan. I am doing this for Owen. I am doing this for Lucy.” The rest of the run felt like a stroll through the tulips compared to what Owen’s family – and the families of the thousands of little boys like him – will have to endure if a cure isn’t found.

So please, be the wind at their backs and help me raise money for Charley’s Fund. We need to find a cure for DMD so these families can look forward to a brighter future for their little boys and their sisters and brothers.

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It's official - I am adding Maryland to my list this year on October 16 with the Baltimore Running Festival's half marathon. The best part? There's a 100 yard fun run for kids 7 and under that Aren and Owen will probably run together. :-)

Why I'm Running

As many of you know, one of my oldest and closest friends, Melissa, has an adorable little boy named Owen who has Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy (DMD). I have known Melissa since we were in first grade (when we each wore one half of a Best Friends heart around our necks) and we have been close friends ever since. When Owen was just a few months old, he was diagnosed with DMD, a terrible and fatal disease that wastes away his muscles due to a lack of a protein called Dystrophin. Right now he is on the path to being in a wheelchair by the time he is 8 to 12 years old. The reason this disease is fatal is because it affects all of his muscles, eventually including the internal ones like his heart.

Owen just turned five, and while he is doing well now, Owen's mom and dad must deal with the difficult reality of his disease every day. As a mother to two healthy boys, I truly cannot imagine how hard it must be for them to know that their son's future is not guaranteed. Your donation to Charley's Fund brings them and those who love them hope that a cure will be found during Owen's lifetime.

There is a lot of great research coming down the pipeline right now, and all money that I raise here will go to DMD research. Charley's Fund's mission statement is: "We direct money into the hands of researchers who have the best shot at developing a treatment or cure for Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. Our goal is to cure DMD in time to save Charley’s life and the lives of thousands of boys like him."

Baby Aren (as Owen still excitedly calls him even though Aren now has a baby brother named Roan) doesn't get to see Owen as often as we'd like because of the distance between us, but the two of them act like brothers when they're together, and I certainly consider Owen's mom to be like a sister. My hope is that our boys - and Owen's soon-to-be new baby sister Lucy - can both celebrate many more birthdays together in the future. Your donation could help make this possible.