TCM 2011

I have maintained too much "radio silence" on these pages since finishing up in Dublin. Didn't write about my visit to Lancaster afterwards, and the painful trips up and down numerous staircases in train stations to get there. A beautiful campus, still, and a dramatically changed landscape both at the university and the Royal Lancaster Infirmary.

Haven't written about my sporadic and infrequent attempts to get out and run during the winter. What can I say? I'm not a fan of treadmills, nor did I enjoy my few outdoor runs in freezing temps. Too afraid of wiping out on the ice, I think, and realistically just too easy to stay bundled and warm inside during those cold winter months.

And I'm very sorry that I haven't provided an update about my personal honoree from last year's marathons. It's important to keep telling Siona's story. She will once again be my personal honoree this year. "In memory of," though, instead of "in honor of." It is a sad but important distinction. As I'd written about last summer and fall, she never was able to get into remission again, never was able to find a treatment that could work in her favor. She passed away in the early morning of January 1.

I was fortunate enough to have been able to make it back to Seattle for her memorial service. A "celebration of life," really, at the Mercer Island Community Center, with scores of friends and family stopping by to pay their regards. There was music, a photo montage, a place to contribute thoughts or pictures to a scrapbook, a variety of food, and an amazing series of twelve statements that were in a picture frame as you walked in. I wrote them down before I left, because they were so strong, so beautiful. They demonstrated so much wisdom and courage that I wanted to take them with me.

Nigam updated Siona's website a week or so later, sharing Siona's Life Lessons with a larger audience. I want to include them in full here.

1. Live with a smile
2. Never give up and always try your best
3. Be kind and accepting of people
4. Don't complain about things that aren't fair
5. Be happy with the small things in life such as hot cocoa at Starbucks or going to lunch with daddy, mommy or Mr Lampy (as she called her brother sometimes)
6. Be positive and laugh out loud
7. It's okay to fly into the sky as long as you have lived with a purpose
8. Always be kind to spiders because they too have a mommy and daddy
9. Always be truthful and tell it like it is
10. Always enjoy moments big or small
11. Be "just the way you are"
12. Make a difference in people's lives

Would that we all had this kind of courage. This kind of perspective.

And so Nigam is running his first-ever half-marathon this weekend, the San Diego Rock 'N' Roll Half Marathon with Team In Training. He will be doing the Seattle RNR Half Marathon a few weeks later. Along the way, he and his family raised better than $11,000 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, the top TNT fundraiser in the state of Washington. Already beginning to make a difference in people's lives.

I hope to keep Siona's words close to my mind and to my heart as I prepare for this year's marathon.

It's not about the running. That's part of it, to be sure, but it's about this community, too. These shared experiences. Twenty-one years ago I was given some pretty lousy odds of long-term survival, but I was able to beat my leukemia. Just six months ago, Siona lost her fight against leukemia, even though young children have some of the best odds of surviving. I'm running with Tyler again, barely two years removed from his bone marrow transplant, one marathon already under his belt. And Cory, who was diagnosed at five only to relapse at fifteen -- a bone marrow transplant worked for him, too, and he ran his first marathon twelve years later (in Hawaii, instead of Dublin). And there are so many others who I am just beginning to get to know, people who have either beaten this lousy disease themselves, or have lost a loved one to it: a son or daughter. A father, or a sister, or sometimes both.

And so I want to do another marathon. And I will want to keep doing these for many years to come. For myself, and for Siona, and for this amazing group of runners and their personal stories of triumph and sorrow. Together, I think, we can make a real difference.

Our kickoff meeting was on May 11th. First official day of training for the 2011 Twin Cities Marathon, then, was the very next day for me, a not-so-quick two mile jog. The rest of the month looked like this:

10 days of running for 34 total miles
5 days of cross-training (i.e. spin class)
5 days of rest

I'm going with last week as our official third week of training, even though we had a few days after the kickoff meeting in mid-May. We've received three weekly newsletters so far from our coach, Jan, with the "Week 4" newsletter set to arrive later today.

So the quick summary of last week is as follows:

• 3 runs for 14 miles (long run of 8 miles)
• 2 spin classes
• 2 days of rest

Picked up an issue of Runner's World at Target yesterday. Wasn't planning on it, but the cover certainly grabbed my attention: an entire issue dedicated to "outrunning cancer," with a series of different covers featuring cancer survivors.

Haven't dug into all of the articles yet. These two paragraphs at the beginning of the issue, though, from the editor, really struck a chord:

Runner's World has touched on the topic of cancer countless times. Of the 60 people we've honored in our annual Heroes of Running awards since 2004, 10 of them have a connection to cancer. But until now, we've never stepped back to look broadly and deeply at the indelible and powerful connection between running and the disease that--despite a four-decade "War on Cancer"--will kill 570,000 Americans this year. As Writer at Large John Brant reports in "Team Effort," more than $650 million is raised annually by runners to benefit cancer charities.

That's an astounding number, but there's more to this than just raising money. According to a Runner's World survey, 17 percent of runners either have cancer now or had it in the past. For them, running is a form of treatment in and of itself. Some use it as a weapon for fighting back, others as a haven from the ravages of disease. Runner-survivors often talk about having a new appreciation for life, and a fearless attitude. Having faced down cancer, they feel they can handle whatever else comes their way, including running great distances. Conversely, having faced down 26.2 miles or 50-mile weeks or 10 x 800 meters before being diagnosed, runners often feel better prepared to endure chemo, depression, paralyzing fatigue, even the loss of a limb.

http://davidwilley.runnersworld.com/2011/06/race-of-our-lives.html

Train, endure, achieve, matter. As good of a summary of what Team in Training means as you'll find, conveniently available for review whenever I look at my left wrist.

This past week was pretty solid, if a little unique. We had some crazy hot weather on Monday and Tuesday. So I struggled through a short run, and then hoped to find some amount of respite inside during spin class -- but it was still insanely hot there, too. Missed the team practice on Wednesday. Made it up on Thursday, and found a nice new trail near my favorite lake loop. Trails are tough! Especially that one, pretty much nothing but hills for three miles.

Ended up skipping spin class on Friday to attend a going away lunch for a co-worker. And boy was it worth it! I've been meaning to try out the Smack Shack for the better part of the spring, and it did not disappoint. Amazing lobster roll! As Jason pointed out, even Bon Appetit recognized it recently as one of the best six lobster rolls in the nation.

In other words, I don't feel too bad about missing one day of cross training.

• 3 runs for 18 miles (long run of 9 miles)
• 1 spin class
• 3 days of rest

My step-grandmother, Ruth, passed away on Wednesday. She was ninety-one years old, and always seemed so much younger -- she was active and full of life. Diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma a number of years ago, she'd relapsed recently, and when treatments proved to be ineffective, she decided to forgo them altogether in the interests of a better quality of life.

Jane was able to spend the past couple of weeks with her -- as were Jane's other two sisters. It's obviously a difficult, sad time for the family, but it probably couldn't have ended much better. Ruth had lived a long, good life. And in those final days, she was able to look through old photos, and share family stories with her daughters.

I will be adding Ruth to my short list of personal honorees for this year's marathon.

More details here: http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/telegram/obituary.aspx?n=ruth-odell-lewis&pid=151993863.

Quiet week, and our first team run of more than ten miles. Everything feels good so far, but I think I'm going to need to do some additional speed work (or something) if I want to run a ten minute mile pace for the Twin Cities marathon.

• 3 runs for 17 miles (long run of 11 miles)
• 2 spin classes
• 2 days of rest

Back-to-back workouts this week that were more than a little memorable. The first, which was pretty surprising, was my standard weekly spin class. Usually the class is led by Jackie -- and Tuesdays are fairly crowded classes -- with a good mix of music and faster-paced biking. Sometimes there's a sub, and classes are still fun, and a good lunchtime workout. This Tuesday, though, I'd happened to walk over to the gym with a couple of other Target spin-class junkies (Fotis and Matt, also in TTS). There was a piece of paper taped to the door of the gym that said the noon and 5 pm spin classes for the day were canceled.

"What!?"

The three of us, at least, still wanted to bike. So when we checked in at the desk, we asked the manager, John, if we could just go ahead and use the room even if there wasn't an official class going on. He said that would be fine, and even said that he'd make sure the sound system was turned on if we wanted to supply our own music.

Perfect.

As it turned out, none of us had any music, but there was a CD that another spin instructor had left behind that we were able to use. I think there ended up being maybe five people total in the class -- the three of us, Jess, also from Target, and somebody else who snuck in halfway through. It was a ridiculously fun time. Fotis led the "class," mostly, suggesting different speed or hills work, depending on the next unknown song on the CD. We would randomly shout out encouragements that we'd all heard over the months from various spin instructors. Probably funnier for the few of us in the empty room, music blaring, than I could ever explain here. But it ended up being a great workout, and a nice reminder that signs saying "classes canceled" don't necessarily mean that they are.

Yesterday's hill workout, though, was a completely different kind of memorable. OMG. I'll state for the record, again, that I actually enjoy hills. Still can't figure out what it is, but I appreciate the challenge they provide. I like knowing that if when I come up to a hill during the marathon, I'm not crushed by it. Deflated. I know that I can tackle it just fine, and it won't break me.

This particular workout, though, started with a chill. Summer still hasn't decided to show up in Minneapolis, even though it's official now. And what began as a cool, overcast night, quickly turned into a gentle rain during our warm-up run. That turned into a light drizzle. Also, unnoticed until we began making our way up the first of six hill repeats, was the fact that we had the wind at our backs on the way down hill, but in our face on the way up.

Cold. Wet. Windy. Hills. Awesome.

Of course the rain started to come down even harder, the light drizzle turning into a steady rain. Not a torrential downpour. But there was no doubt: this was the type of day where you might just decide to pack it in. Give it up. Go home. Who needs to run in these crappy conditions?

I shouted "suck it, summer!" on maybe the fourth or fifth hill repeat. Fell into a nice pace with Tracey and Crystal for the last few hills, and laughed, and understood that these sorts of nights are what really matter. As much as I'd have preferred maybe only one or two sucky aspects instead of so many combined, there's no guarantee that it won't be cold or wet or windy during the marathon.

Training is about running, sure, but also about adversity.

We made it through. We didn't melt. Didn't slip and fall. And now we know that we can run in this kind of crap and have fun (kind of, sort of) in spite of it all.

Is this adversity week? Or a sort of cause and effect from Wednesday's rain? In either case, I woke up before our Saturday long run feeling not quite right. Tired. Lethargic. Sniffles. Scratchy throat. The beginning of a summer cold? I dunno.

It's cut back week, though. A scheduled long run of six miles on the calendar, but I'd been thinking all week that I wanted to run eight. Really wanted to push myself for just a couple of extra miles. On a different day, and a different course, maybe. Humid, again, and hilly. Just when I think I love hills, here comes a Saturday workout to remind me that they still suck.

I had a couple of other good excuses to cut my run short:

1. In order to make up a week with three days of rest earlier in the month, I'd ended up either running or going to spin class every day this week. Six consecutive days of exercise can make you a little less enthused about pushing for those extra miles on Saturday.

2. I had an interesting experience with a van while crossing an intersection. This was maybe mile 2? I'd been running with Tracey again, and Crystal, Ella, and Cory. The five of us were standing on the sidewalk waiting for the signal to turn so we could cross Pilot Knob Road. No reason at all to try to cross against four lanes of traffic. A van pulled up next to us and stopped at the red light, waiting to turn right. At the same time that the walk signal turned for us to cross the street, the van started to drive. Good thing I wasn't busy chatting with everybody: I saw that the driver didn't even see us (somehow, impossibly) and pushed off of her hood so I wouldn't get hit. She slammed on her brakes almost immediately. I double checked that her light was, indeed, very red. Glared and gave my best "WTF" arm wave, but then kept jogging through the crosswalk with everybody else.

Ahh, the excitement and adventure of a Saturday morning run. Never trust that cars are stopped, even when they are.

And so at the end of the day, I ran a couple miles less than I'd wanted, but I still made it through those miles. Six miles are way better than zero.

Yes, I am an Excel dork. I'd kept track of all my runs and spin classes and everything in an Excel spreadsheet last year. Doing the same this year. And soon, I promise, I'll have a little analysis of some trends I'd noticed when looking back at everything. For now, though, I'm just going to copy and paste a short summary of my training so far.

I'm trying to be a little more balanced than I was last year. Realizing that rest days are important, that I'm training for a marathon (and not a triathlon) so it's better to skip cross-training days if I want some additional rest.

Of course, I say that, now, as I made a conscious effort this past week to only take a single day of rest. With all of that, though, I'm still pretty happy with how things are looking so far. I don't want to run any fewer than three days a week (especially as my mileage increases during July and August) to go along with my couple of days of cross-training spin classes.

Still felt under-the-weather for the better part of this week, finally shaking off this crappy summer cold sometime today. Had a great team run tonight, a beautiful summer evening around Lake Harriet, and a good pace for some of our interval work.

This is just a quick note to remind myself, later, that it's good to get runs and cross-training in, even when I'm not even close to 100%. A good life lesson. Monday and Tuesday were both days where I felt progressively less lousy than I did this weekend -- would have been simple enough to just bail on my Monday run. Even easier to not show up to spin class over lunch yesterday.

I'm still figuring all of this out: this week has reminded me that you just need to show up. Might not be a scheduled class at all. Or a hills workout might be windy and raining. Or you might be unmotivated, or sick, or bored, or tired.

It's good practice, really, to still show up regardless of all the good reasons why you don't want to, and run, or spin, or whatever.

I've been trying to follow the schedule as best as I can, except that I've made Thursdays my rest day, regardless of what the calendar says.

Looks like summer has finally arrived in Minneapolis. Saturday's long run was a struggle in the evening heat. The rest of July will see a steady increase in mileage, as well as more heat and humidity.

• 3 runs for 18 miles (long run of 10 miles)
• 2 spin classes
• 2 days of rest

It's been at least a couple of weeks since I've felt like I'd had a good long run. And even earlier this week, I was struggling just to get through my short runs. Instead of a planned four-mile run on Monday, I stopped after only two.

I can't blame everything on the heat and humidity, even though that's nice and convenient, because my spin class on Tuesday also sucked. Fortunately, things turned around with a good track workout on Wednesday evening. Jan and Jenn led the team in some mile intervals, and I paced mine with a teammate, John, who'd also decided that we could probably pick up the pace a little more than expected. Instead of "marathon pace" -- a 10:00 mile goal for this fall -- we ran our miles at 9 to 9:15.

Decided to hit the road again Thursday to make up for my lousy Monday, and felt very solid through all four miles.

That left today's long run, an early morning start after storms had moved through the cities. We met near the University of Minnesota, along the west bank of the Mississippi, and followed the parkway south and west (much of the same route as the marathon) before turning back to complete a simple out-and-back.

While I'm not going to pretend it was easy today -- again, with temperatures in the mid-seventies, and humidity even higher than that, I was drenched by the time we'd finished. And the nice, rolling hills weren't so nice on the way back (except for one long downhill with a couple of miles remaining). Still, I felt strong today. First time in weeks that I've felt that way. First time in weeks that I've opted for a longer distance (13 instead of 11), as opposed to cutting my run short.

Not the best week ever. But not too bad, either.

• 4 runs for 24 miles (long run of 13 miles)
• 1 spin class
• 2 days of rest

More to come later. It's been a relatively quiet week and a half or so, due in no small part to the crazy heat and humidity that has blanketed the region.

This is summer in Minneapolis, though, and this kind of weather is to be expected. Although I'm still looking forward to cooler temps over the weekend, for our fifteen miles on Saturday, and the Warrior Dash on Sunday.

To say that the weather has played havoc on our training the past two weeks is something of an understatement. Here's a good article in the local paper that talks about some of the science behind why measuring the dew point is a good indicator of overall comfort (or discomfort) levels:

Summer dew points in Minnesota generally run from the high 40s to the low 60s. But last week they soared into the 80s. That's the coolest a healthy person's skin temperature could have gotten while outside, and his or her sweat could not evaporate effectively. So bodies stayed hot.

"The lower that dewpoint is, the more effective your body is at cooling itself," said Tom Hultquist, chief science officer for the Twin Cities office of the National Weather Service. Because most people regard comfortable room temperature as 68 to 72 degrees, dew points above that feel uncomfortable, Hultqist added.

Star Tribune

And we had to cut Saturday's long run short (10 miles instead of a planned 14) due to a strong storm that pushed through the cities. The high winds and heavy rain started at about mile 8, to go along with a serious temperature drop. There was thunder and lighning. A group of six or seven of us running together decided to push to the last water stop -- also located next to a gas station -- to see about getting out of the weather. At times, the rain was pelting us at nearly 45 degree angles. And as much as we really wanted to get all of our mileage in, once we made it to the water stop, Val told us that the rest of the run was being canceled. In addition to the lightning (which would have been reason enough to stop), the wind had caused a tree to knock down a power line along the trail ahead of us.

I ended up making up some mileage today at the Warrior Dash, though. It was a really fun event. Super challenging hills! Although they're not listed on the website, I'd say they were the most difficult obstacles of the day. The first one was particularly rough. Only about a quarter of a mile, but way steeper than what I'm used to. Here's a photo from the bus as I was leaving the course, and the elevation chart from MapMyRun:

Ended up finishing in 36:30, or a 12:05/mile pace. Bib #11580 on the Sunday results -- I didn't see my time before I'd left because there was a chip mix-up, apparently, with a Shannon Brown (#11579). My name shows up on the Saturday results, but with the wrong bib number, so I figure that the Sunday result with my bib number (but the wrong name) is the one to go with. Given how much I'd walked up the hills, I'm very happy with that time. Finished in the top 20% of my age division. Loved the atmosphere, the mud, and am definitely planning to do this again next year!

Finally, I'd like to extend a huge thanks to a great burst of fundraising support I've received from my first ten donors, who have already brought me to within about $50 of my fundraising goal.

Here's my quick recap of the past two weeks. At the beginning of August, I'll write about some of my training strategy, and why keeping track of running, cross-training, and rest days is important.

• 5 runs for 31 miles (long runs of 10 miles)
• 4 spin classes
• 5 days of rest

Yes, it was muddy. Hilly and muddy and tons of fun.

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According to the Star Tribune, July was the fifth hottest on record in Minnesota, with an average temp of 78.7 degrees. This week's long run was another in what seemed like a month of heat or weather-related running challenges.

It was just felt really hot and humid again yesterday. Not even three miles into our scheduled sixteen I poured cold water over my head. Continued to drink plenty of water and/or Gatorade at our scheduled water stops, but by about mile 11 I stopped to walk it out. I was so completely drenched that even my shoes squished with every step. I sounded like a swamp monster. The insole ended up slipping to the back of my left shoe; the last handful of miles were with a weird imbalance on that shoe.

Anyway. I walked. Then I slow jogged. Then I'd walk some more. Put some ice cubes on my head (underneath my hat) at mile 13. Just kept plugging away. Our coach, Jan, checked on me. It wasn't that I was especially tired or sore, but I really felt off. I think hydration needs to be something I do much sooner during the week. And I might also look at getting some additional sodium into my body. I'd sweated so much that I'm sure extra salt would help.

What really brought home the heat for me came as several folks from the team were sitting on a hillside at the end of the run. It felt cool. There was a slight breeze, maybe barely overcast, and a number of people (myself included) commented on how pleasant it felt. Decided to go to a nearby Jamba Juice with a few folks, taking advantage of a soon-to-expire coupon. After standing inside for maybe five minutes, returning to that "nice," "pleasant," "cool" outside was more like entering a blast furnace. It was a serious wall of heat.

So, August usually brings hotter temps. It's still good, though. Good to be training through all of this adverse weather. Once the marathon rolls around, we'll hopefully be that much stronger for it.

• 4 runs for 26 miles (long run of 16 miles)
• 1 spin class
• 2 days of rest

One more donation this week bumped me over my fundraising goal of $1,500. I'm happy to see that money going to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. But with two full months before the Twin Cities Marathon, I've gone ahead and revised my goal, increasing it by another thousand dollars. I may end up increasing it yet again before we get to October. Thanks to everybody who has helped make a difference so far!

Just about two months left before the marathon. A reasonably okay run on Saturday -- 16 miles, same as last weekend. Humidity, of course, was ever present, and while the run wasn't necessarily awesome, it didn't completely suck, either.

• 3 runs for 25 miles (long run of 16 miles)
• 2 spin classes
• 2 days of rest

I've kept track of all of my training runs since last year. Nothing fancy ... just an Excel spreadsheet where I write down what I've done every day during my training for TNT marathons in 2010 and 2011. I'd really noticed, near the end of last July, that my body was taking a beating. While I'd felt generally pretty strong about my training last year, I'd realized, looking back,that my peak training month was July. That's not a good thing for an October marathon.

I'd ended up running 16 times for just over 100 miles last July. I remember feeling pretty burned out last summer, and the numbers confirm this. July 2010 saw me exercising almost 6 days a week (25/31 days combined), between running and cross-training. August, however, was much worse. I had more cross-training days (10) than running (9), and because I ran so many fewer days, I'd also ended up running fewer miles.

In other words: July 2010 was my peak training month for two October marathons. No other month had more training runs or miles. That's WAY too soon.

And in the months leading up to my marathons in 2010, there was a precipitous drop in both days run and total mileage.

This year, I've made a conscious effort to keep my runs, cross-training, and rest days in good balance. Generally, I'm aiming for 13 or 14 days of running each month (roughly 3-4 days per week), another couple of days each week of cross-training, and another couple of days of rest. Again, generally speaking, this should equate to, say, 14 days of runs, another 8 (or so) days of cross-training, and about 8 or 9 days of rest. It's all about balance. When in doubt, drop the cross-training for more runs.

So far, so good. No injuries. No burn-out. Just slow and steady as I've been adding the miles.

So the first thing to remember is that I actually ran two marathons last October, so the number there is a bit inflated. I really, really should not have such a precipitous drop in running days between July and August. Nor should I have thought that cross-training in spin class was a good substitute for runs when I was, you know, training for a marathon.

"Active" is just the total percentage of days in a given month where I was either running or cross-training. Is it any wonder that I felt a little burnt out by the end of last July? Sheesh.

The real test this year will come over the next two months. My goal is to still have somewhere between 13-15 runs each month (roughly 3 days a week, times four weeks, plus a couple extra to make up the difference between 28 days and 30-31 days).

But it's felt much more balanced this year. And I don't know if it's getting more rest days, or starting ice baths sooner,or the foam roller punishing my IT band a few nights a week, but I really do feel much, much better heading into the home stretch than I did in 2010.

Thirteen weeks already? Time flies. And I have to go all the way back to week 8 to find a long run where I actually felt good about the distance. Even a week before that and we were already feeling the heat -- six consecutive weeks of summer weather making the runs more difficult than they needed to be.

But I remained hopeful that all of these difficult conditions would ultimately prove to be a good thing. Get through the worst days of summer, just get the mileage in, and it'll have to feel better once things start to cool down.

Well.

Today, finally, was significantly cooler. We started in a cool, steady drizzle, and had to focus for the first three miles on slowing down the pace -- almost as if we were trying to outrun the rain. After that, though, the rain stopped, cloud cover remained, and we were able to settle into a comfortable "long, slow, distance" pace.

Two weeks ago I really struggled with the heat and humidity: 16 miles in 3 hours and 30 minutes. Last week felt a little better, running the same distance in about 3:15. Today felt as good as it has in over a month, adding one more mile but still finishing in 3:15.

And I can't believe I'd never discovered the Midtown Greenway before today! What a great combined running/biking trail! Cuts through some of my favorite lakes and ends up right next to the Mississippi River.

• 3 runs for 26 miles (long run of 17 miles)
• 1 spin class
• 3 days of rest

It really, really sucks.

Jamie (one of the team mentors this year, and a participant in last year's TCM) had been doing a great job all summer of keeping us up-to-date on one of our fall marathon "honored teammates" -- a nine-year old girl named Alie. She'd been battling leukemia since she was only three years old. Three!

Recently, she'd been on oxygen because of some fluid in her lungs. Her CaringBridge website was updated regularly, and both Jamie and our coach Jan regularly asked us to leave comments for her. Alie wasn't able to attend the team picnic this past Saturday, because she was still in the hospital. Jamie handed out pink and purple ribbons to tie to our shoes -- Alie's favorite colors.

She passed away yesterday.

Another young life cut way too short because of leukemia. And not for lack of effort, or love, or strength, or courage. One can only hope that she is in a better place now -- and I continue to hope that research gets us closer to a cure.

I'd initially thought that maybe this week wasn't that great. Maybe a little sub-par. And, true, it's the first time since mid-May where I've had more rest days than running or cross-training. But three days of runs is still pretty solid. Saturday's long run, in particular, more than made up for any missed days of cross-training this week. I didn't hit twenty miles last year until three weeks before the marathon. I'm hoping to get at least one more weekend of at least twenty before this year's Twin Cities.

• 3 runs for 29 miles (long run of 20 miles)
• 0 spin classes
• 4 days of rest

A very good week overall, especially our Saturday long run. This was the third consecutive week where I've felt that the distance and pace were both really solid. Jan had wanted us to cut back this week, in preparation for only two more weeks of significant mileage before we taper. We were joking about it a little during the run, how nice it is to use the words "only" and "fifteen miles" together.

It was also a chance to run a good stretch of the marathon route -- starting near the Walker Art Museum, winding through some of the neighborhoods north of Lake of the Isles. We ran along the marathon route until we were well south of Lake Harriet, then turned around and came back.

I was able to stick to my modified training schedule earlier in the week: a solo run on Monday, spin class on Tuesday, team training on Wednesday (Yasso 800's at the track), and another spin class on Thursday. With a rest day on Friday, and a good night of rest, I've found that my long runs on Saturday are much more manageable.

• 3 runs for 24.5 miles (long run of 15 miles)
• 2 spin classes
• 2 days of rest

Another long run done, another month in the books, and exactly one month left before the Twin Cities Marathon.

This weekend's long run was also along much of the marathon course. I like that our coaches schedule these locations near the end of our training. It's a great opportunity to once again familiarize ourselves with the route. Between the past two weekends we've covered most of the first 22 miles of the course. The weekend after next -- tapering, finally -- will be the last handful of miles.

I've been happy with my consistency for the past six weeks, following my early plan to run three times per week, do some kind of cross-training (usually spin class) twice a week, leaving two days for rest. When in doubt, I've chosen to sacrifice a day of cross-training instead of a run. In fact, over the past sixteen weeks, there's only been a single week where I ran for less than three days to go along with four weeks where I put in an extra day of running. Mixed in at least one day of cross-training in all but one week.

I've also put in just about as much mileage in the past six weeks (and 19 runs) as I'd done in my previous ten weeks (and 32 runs). So while my runs have all been in the range that I'd hoped for -- 13 - 15 a month -- my mileage has steadily increased with each passing month.

The consistency and mileage is way better than last August. Then, I'd only run three times a week once, got nothing more than Wednesday and Saturday team runs in two different weeks, and another week only saw me get my long Saturday run in.

Even though I had a stretch of several consecutive lousy long runs -- mostly through our super hot July -- I feel much better prepared for the marathon this year. And last year, I honestly thought I'd done a really good job of getting ready. That's the good thing about baselines: you have something to measure against.

• 3 runs for 29 miles (long run of 20 miles)
• 2 days of cross-training
• 2 days of rest

With only three weeks left before the marathon, it's officially time to start tapering! Well, after one more long run this weekend, that is. After a last-minute change of plans that meant I wouldn't be running with the team on Saturday, I met Crystal at Lake Calhoun to do two laps around Isles, Calhoun, and Harriet.

This morning's run was a perfect example of why I'd wanted to get 20 miles done at least a couple of times earlier than today. This was it. The last weekend before tapering. If there was any reason at all that would have kept me from getting to 20 today, I'd wanted those previous weekends in my back pocket.

Which is pretty much exactly what happened. Lots of reasons why --unseasonably warm weather, crowded lakes, general fatigue -- Crystal and I opted for 16 miles instead of 20. Still happy with the distance, though.

That makes seven consecutive weeks of long runs between 15 and 20 miles.

And now, it's time for a well-earned taper.

We've got twelve and then eight miles over the next two weekends. And then the marathon!

• 3 runs for 26 miles (long run of 16 miles)
• 1 day of cross-training
• 4 days of rest

Funny. So tapering didn't really start until today, with our shortest long run since July 23rd. Our mid-week team training run was a great series of Yasso 800's. Ten sets of those -- a quick two laps around the track (aiming for a 4 minute half-mile or less) plus a third to walk/jog -- gave us about 7 1/2 miles on Wednesday alone.

Today was a cool and wet out-and-back along the last six miles of the marathon course. It felt great. Kept up a really good pace throughout.

By the end of the week, I'd finished with three runs for a total of 24 miles, which also makes eight consecutive weeks with at least three runs and 24-29 miles. The next two weeks combined should see about the same mileage as I'd put in this past week.

Perfect.

A nice, easy, restful way to approach the marathon.

• 3 runs for 24 miles (long run of 12 miles)
• 2 spin classes
• 2 days of rest

A quiet week of tapering, which is good, I think. Didn't get any cross-training in, and only had a couple of runs, plus a LOT of walking around at a conference in Orlando (which I'm counting as a four-mile run, even though it was probably more like 5 or 6). Our weekend team run yesterday morning was a comfortable eight miles.

The plan for the next seven days is simple: get lots of rest. Early to bed every day this week. Eat well (no soda, or fried foods, or any other semi-arbitrary rules I'll make up as I go). I'll want to take a few short runs -- no more than two or three miles -- between now and Friday.

Really just want to make sure I'm as well-rested as I can be before the marathon. I know that I'm more than capable of putting in the miles. Let's just see how much better it feels if I'm smart about diet and sleep this week.

Fingers crossed for good weather, too. Forecast looks just about perfect.

• 3 runs for 16 miles (long run of 8 miles)
• no spin classes or other cross-training
• 3 days of rest

Picked up my race packet from the expo this morning.

After I'd stopped by the expo, I drove over near the capitol, up the hill to the Cathedral of St. Paul. Wanted to picture, again, that final stretch.

It's a spectacular sight -- and a fantastic way to hit that 26 mile mark.

Real-time updates can be found here: http://www.mtecresults.com/race/show/507. My goal is to finish somewhere between 4:20 and 4:30, or anywhere from 15 to 20 minutes faster than last year.

I'm excited and nervous but also feeling pretty calm and steady. Training has gone so well, and the weather forecast is absolutely perfect.

This week has been all about good nights of sleep, plenty of rest, hydration, and trusting that I've put in the hard work over the past twenty weeks.

Goals can be a funny thing. I felt as well prepared for this marathon as any I've ever trained for. Was pleasantly surprised, last year, when my attempt at two marathons within three weeks brought me roughly the same finishing times that I'd had ten years prior -- about 4:45.

I was faster this summer. Stronger. Better conditioned. Better rested and hydrated through my taper. Got more 20+ mile training runs in. Felt stronger about everything. The weather forecast was all kinds of awesome.

And yet?

It just wasn't my day on Sunday. My quads started to hurt around mile 10 or so. And there was a persistent side ache that followed me from mile 13 on. The entire last half of the marathon was a struggle just to run. It didn't really get any better, although walking helped a bit, it was clear that this marathon was going to be a grind.

I didn't really notice much along the second half. Didn't see the gorgeous fall colors. Wasn't excited to see the cathedral near the end. And the finish line? I had to force my body back into motion when I saw it come over the hill, knowing that I had half a mile or so where I couldn't stop. Wouldn't stop.

My legs were trembling at the end.

And as much as I'd maybe like to be disappointed, as much as I wish I would have been closer to my goal pace (or at least my times from last year), I know that the important thing, again, is that I finished. That I took on this challenge five some months ago and stuck with my training for the second consecutive year. That over the course of five different marathons with Team in Training -- dating back to 1998 -- I've managed to help raise more than $45,000 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

You're not always going to get great, perfect, amazing days where everything works exactly as expected.

What matters is that I finished. My legs are still sore, two days later, but they're getting better.

And I'm already thinking about next year.

My stepmom forwarded me this article earlier today, full of several similarities with my leukemia. Same exact subtype, identical bleeding gums symptoms (although hers sound worse than mine), even receiving treatment at the same hospital. Advances in treatment have come a long way in twenty plus years, though -- meaning most of her treatment is out patient. Still, now walk in the park by any stretch.

As a tear trickled down Katie Collier's cheek, she started to laugh.

The touted basketball recruit sat tucked into a leather chair with her long legs pulled up at an angle, her feet resting on an ottoman. She wore a black sweatsuit and her long, blond hair flowed down her right side.

She blinked back tears, but never stopped smiling.

During a time when most 18-year-olds with Division I college scholarship offers are making final decisions, the Seattle Christian senior tried to explain what it's like to have a dream diverted, a decision delayed.

Instead of selecting a school, Collier is dealing with acute promyelocytic leukemia (APL). She takes a chemotherapy pill at 9 a.m. and another at 9 p.m. and, until this week, made daily trips to Seattle Cancer Care Alliance for an arsenic drip.

But she isn't upset. She doesn't seem scared. Tears come with the territory, but she leans on laughter.

"It's more important to bring more smiles than tears," Collier said. "Who wants to be there soaking in tears? Not me."

The Seattle Times

The arrival of a patient with acute leukemia still sends a shiver down the hospital's spine -- all the way from the cancer wards on its upper floors to the clinical laboratories buried deep in the basement. Leukemia is a cancer of the white blood cells -- cancer in one of it's most explosive, violent incarnations. As one nurse on the wards often liked to remind her patients, with this disease "even a paper cut is an emergency."