Clark and I found out today that we are going to be grandparents for the first time! Clark is old enough but not me! HA!
My youngest daughter Jamie just found out that she is pregnant. I can't believe it! Woohoo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Monday, October 22, 2007
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Forget Wayne?
I can't believe I forgot to mention Wayne in my blog! Wayne jogged up beside me at the halfway point and actually told me to slow down! What a way to get to a girl's heart! Thanks Wayne, for being there at the right time and saying the right thing and for taking care of my aches and pains all these months. You rock!
My Marathon Experience
Like most of you, my blog is my journal of my path to the Chicago Marathon 2007 so I must report on my experience. First of all, I would like to thank SO many people for their support.
Thank you Mark, Robin, Matt and Scotty for getting me to Chicago all in one piece, well trained and conditioned for a hot marathon day. Thank you for inspiring me and believing in me even with all my injuries and ailments these nine months. I would have given up long ago had you not encouraged me all the way.
Thank you Clark for being with me every step of the way on this long journey. You are the best husband and friend I could ever have.
Thanks to Steve Schemmel, Bill Lushbaugh, and Bob McElroy for supplying me with water. Every time I felt like I could not make it one more step without a drink I would see Cookie's sign and I would breathe a sigh of relief because I knew they would take care of me!
Thank you to the unknown runners who shared their water cups and the Chicago residents that gave me water from their hoses and sprayed me when I went by. Thank you to Robin and Sheila for screaming my name every time I appeared, and to all the spectators that called my name and cheered me on.
Thanks to Bonnie for waiting with me after the race until we could find Clark and to the two strangers who let me borrow their cell phone after the race. I will never go anywhere without my cell phone again.
Even though the race was cancelled I could not have been happier with my performance, I have no regrets. I feel like we were a part of history that will never be forgotten. If everything had gone perfect would this marathon be memorable to the world? NO! We all know we were going to finish. We were ready.
I started getting extremely anxious on Thursday before the marathon. Friday I had a severe headache all day from the stress of what was about to come but managed to keep it under control so that I could function and be sociable. We had a wonderful pizza lunch with Cookie and Steve at Giordano's, went on the boat tour which was fantastic and then had a great meal with Cookie and Steve and Janet and Bill. It was good to get to know Janet and Bill. I already loved Cookie and Steve and their great company.
Saturday was spent at the Expo most of the day. The pasta meal was the highlight of the trip that night. You never know how people feel about you until they call your name in front of a room full of people! Thank you Micah. We love you too!
Saturday night I dreamed all night. I dreamed I went to the starting line and realized I had on my fuzzy houseshoes! My second dream was that Clark and I got up Sunday morning, packed and went home. Later that day I realized that that was the day of the marathon and I had missed it! Crazy!
Saturday night before I went to bed I opened my Bible and asked God to give me reassuring words. He drew me to this passage:
"As you know, we consider blessed those who have persevered. You have heard of Job's perseverance and have seen what the Lord finally brought about. The Lord is full of compassion and mercy." James 5:11
As I got to the 17th mile I asked God to help me because I was really getting tired and needed his Hand to pull me along. About that time they announced that the race was cancelled. My first thought was, "God you didn't have to cancel the race just because I needed help finishing!" Afterward, I told Clark about this and he laughed and said, "What an ego!"
This has been such a fantastic experience that I will never forget. In the Chicago Tribune the race director was quoted as saying "Marathon runners are tough people." I feel so blessed to be a part of all the "tough marathoners" in our group. You are all awesome!
Thank you Mark, Robin, Matt and Scotty for getting me to Chicago all in one piece, well trained and conditioned for a hot marathon day. Thank you for inspiring me and believing in me even with all my injuries and ailments these nine months. I would have given up long ago had you not encouraged me all the way.
Thank you Clark for being with me every step of the way on this long journey. You are the best husband and friend I could ever have.
Thanks to Steve Schemmel, Bill Lushbaugh, and Bob McElroy for supplying me with water. Every time I felt like I could not make it one more step without a drink I would see Cookie's sign and I would breathe a sigh of relief because I knew they would take care of me!
Thank you to the unknown runners who shared their water cups and the Chicago residents that gave me water from their hoses and sprayed me when I went by. Thank you to Robin and Sheila for screaming my name every time I appeared, and to all the spectators that called my name and cheered me on.
Thanks to Bonnie for waiting with me after the race until we could find Clark and to the two strangers who let me borrow their cell phone after the race. I will never go anywhere without my cell phone again.
Even though the race was cancelled I could not have been happier with my performance, I have no regrets. I feel like we were a part of history that will never be forgotten. If everything had gone perfect would this marathon be memorable to the world? NO! We all know we were going to finish. We were ready.
I started getting extremely anxious on Thursday before the marathon. Friday I had a severe headache all day from the stress of what was about to come but managed to keep it under control so that I could function and be sociable. We had a wonderful pizza lunch with Cookie and Steve at Giordano's, went on the boat tour which was fantastic and then had a great meal with Cookie and Steve and Janet and Bill. It was good to get to know Janet and Bill. I already loved Cookie and Steve and their great company.
Saturday was spent at the Expo most of the day. The pasta meal was the highlight of the trip that night. You never know how people feel about you until they call your name in front of a room full of people! Thank you Micah. We love you too!
Saturday night I dreamed all night. I dreamed I went to the starting line and realized I had on my fuzzy houseshoes! My second dream was that Clark and I got up Sunday morning, packed and went home. Later that day I realized that that was the day of the marathon and I had missed it! Crazy!
Saturday night before I went to bed I opened my Bible and asked God to give me reassuring words. He drew me to this passage:
"As you know, we consider blessed those who have persevered. You have heard of Job's perseverance and have seen what the Lord finally brought about. The Lord is full of compassion and mercy." James 5:11
As I got to the 17th mile I asked God to help me because I was really getting tired and needed his Hand to pull me along. About that time they announced that the race was cancelled. My first thought was, "God you didn't have to cancel the race just because I needed help finishing!" Afterward, I told Clark about this and he laughed and said, "What an ego!"
This has been such a fantastic experience that I will never forget. In the Chicago Tribune the race director was quoted as saying "Marathon runners are tough people." I feel so blessed to be a part of all the "tough marathoners" in our group. You are all awesome!
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
This One's for Kelvin
I don't know if any of you have been reading emails from the Chicago Marathon website. I have been getting them and skimming through them without really reading them until this morning. This caught my eye and really moved me. Like Kelvin, I lost my dad at an early age. Kelvin's blog was awesome today and I felt led to share this story of inspiration from the website:
Special Installment: Reflections of a 2006 Runner
Sara Donovan of Hinsdale, Illinois sent the following essay through our Inspiration Bank. As we approach the final stretch to race day and the challenge of the race looms, we found her touching experience a perfect way to provide encouragement in the final strides.
Angels All Around Us
As a veteran of 25 marathons, I can testify to the fact that some races are easier than others, but all are challenging at the end. First-time marathoners take heart; all of us possess the ability to persevere through fatigue, aches, and pains in our bodies and through the obstacles our mind presents as the miles wear us down. The marathon is often less about the physicality of running and more about the one’s determination born of a commitment to make the 26.2-mile journey. Many things carry us along on the way to the finish line. There are the faces and cheers of the spectators and the runners all around us. There are the wonderful volunteers, the water, Gatorade, gel, and nutrition bars to sustain us. However, as the miles tick off to 20, conversation and banter die, and we are left mostly with our own thoughts. It is then that the race begins in earnest.
Last year by mile 22, I was very tired. My mind told me that I needed to walk, even to stop. I told myself it was insanity for a 60-year-old woman to do such a crazy thing as run 26 miles, that it was too dangerous. My running partner (who was having a good race) stayed by my side and helped me along – talking, cajoling, encouraging me. By mile 24, I was desperate. I knew I would finish, but I didn’t know how. I saw my family at the water station and pushed off for the final miles.
I began praying. I found myself directing my prayers to my father who had died in 2001. He had been a miler at Marquette University but couldn’t run after devastating leg fractures he sustained when he bailed out of his flaming B-17 in World War II. A memory came to me. Shortly before my dad’s death, I entered his room as he was waking from a nap. “Oh,” he exclaimed weakly with a look of joy, “I was dreaming that I was running!”
So as I shuffled along, I fixed that image in my mind and talked to him. “Help me, Dad, please. I’m so tired. You were a runner. You understand. Run by my side. Hold my hand like you did when I was a little girl. Lift me up and carry me.”
I struggled on, but I had relaxed. I turned to my partner who was saying that we had seven-tenths of a mile to go. “I’ve got it now,” I told her. We ran up the hill at Roosevelt Road, down Columbus Drive to the chute. “Thanks for getting me here,” I said to Debbie, as we crossed the finish line. We walked along among the crush of runners and parted company to find our families.
I was so happy and felt just fine. As I walked through Grant Park to meet my husband, I heard a familiar sound from my childhood that stopped me in my tracks. It was my father’s whistle. “Oh, Dad, I forgot to thank you.” I listened for the whistle again, but it didn’t come. “Don’t go yet, Dad.” All I saw were runners and their families celebrating in the October sunshine.
Angels are all around us. They can’t take away our pain or fatigue, but they are running by our sides or are just over our shoulders. So if you feel low on your marathon journey, call upon your angels. They are there.
I have had good marathons and bad marathons, but last year was my best one. It was the one my father ran with me.
Special Installment: Reflections of a 2006 Runner
Sara Donovan of Hinsdale, Illinois sent the following essay through our Inspiration Bank. As we approach the final stretch to race day and the challenge of the race looms, we found her touching experience a perfect way to provide encouragement in the final strides.
Angels All Around Us
As a veteran of 25 marathons, I can testify to the fact that some races are easier than others, but all are challenging at the end. First-time marathoners take heart; all of us possess the ability to persevere through fatigue, aches, and pains in our bodies and through the obstacles our mind presents as the miles wear us down. The marathon is often less about the physicality of running and more about the one’s determination born of a commitment to make the 26.2-mile journey. Many things carry us along on the way to the finish line. There are the faces and cheers of the spectators and the runners all around us. There are the wonderful volunteers, the water, Gatorade, gel, and nutrition bars to sustain us. However, as the miles tick off to 20, conversation and banter die, and we are left mostly with our own thoughts. It is then that the race begins in earnest.
Last year by mile 22, I was very tired. My mind told me that I needed to walk, even to stop. I told myself it was insanity for a 60-year-old woman to do such a crazy thing as run 26 miles, that it was too dangerous. My running partner (who was having a good race) stayed by my side and helped me along – talking, cajoling, encouraging me. By mile 24, I was desperate. I knew I would finish, but I didn’t know how. I saw my family at the water station and pushed off for the final miles.
I began praying. I found myself directing my prayers to my father who had died in 2001. He had been a miler at Marquette University but couldn’t run after devastating leg fractures he sustained when he bailed out of his flaming B-17 in World War II. A memory came to me. Shortly before my dad’s death, I entered his room as he was waking from a nap. “Oh,” he exclaimed weakly with a look of joy, “I was dreaming that I was running!”
So as I shuffled along, I fixed that image in my mind and talked to him. “Help me, Dad, please. I’m so tired. You were a runner. You understand. Run by my side. Hold my hand like you did when I was a little girl. Lift me up and carry me.”
I struggled on, but I had relaxed. I turned to my partner who was saying that we had seven-tenths of a mile to go. “I’ve got it now,” I told her. We ran up the hill at Roosevelt Road, down Columbus Drive to the chute. “Thanks for getting me here,” I said to Debbie, as we crossed the finish line. We walked along among the crush of runners and parted company to find our families.
I was so happy and felt just fine. As I walked through Grant Park to meet my husband, I heard a familiar sound from my childhood that stopped me in my tracks. It was my father’s whistle. “Oh, Dad, I forgot to thank you.” I listened for the whistle again, but it didn’t come. “Don’t go yet, Dad.” All I saw were runners and their families celebrating in the October sunshine.
Angels are all around us. They can’t take away our pain or fatigue, but they are running by our sides or are just over our shoulders. So if you feel low on your marathon journey, call upon your angels. They are there.
I have had good marathons and bad marathons, but last year was my best one. It was the one my father ran with me.
Monday, October 1, 2007
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