WE DID IT!!!!!!!

Folks, we conquered the Houston Marathon!  I know you are our friends, so you're not going to point out that we did it slowly, legs and feet hurting every step of the way, frequently being passed by people who looked like they came to the race straight from the all-you-can-eat buffet.  It was fun, and it's over, and that's all that matters, right?

It really was an amazing event.  We did all the pre-race stuff - pasta dinner the night before with our friends Jay and Nina who were running with us, good night of sleep, lots of hydrating beverages the day before, etc.  Race day we got up early since we had to be at the convention center by 6 am.  Here are some shots of us in the pre-dawn hours before the race, getting ready at home.

Once we got downtown, we met up with our friends Jay & Nina to discuss strategy and stretch out.  Jay is a super-fast runner, so he was set to run with the faster, cooler group of runners, but he wasn't too proud to hang out with us pre-race.  It was a total mass of humanity at the convention center.  Between the marathon, the half-marathon and the 5K, there were over 26 thousand runners eating Gu, using port-a-potties, and complaining about how early it was.  No one was complaining about the weather however - it could not have been a more perfect day for running.  After a few days of rain, it was a clear, beautiful day.  At the start the temperature was about 40 degrees, warming up to 60 by the end of the race - perfect conditions!

By 7 am, Matt and I were in our corral, ready to run.  When the gun fired, we were too far back to even start moving, and we didn't cross the start line for 12 minutes, but that was okay.  The first few miles were really slow because there were so many people crammed together, so we had a chance to talk and enjoy the view as the race got underway.  I think at one point, I told Matt that I felt I could run all day at that pace (this would later be proven untrue).  A few miles in, we got to running a little faster - about 10 minute miles - and stopped chatting so much.  It was still fun to people-watch and to see Houston from such a different perspective.  Growing up there, we didn't do too much walking around since it really is a driving city, so it was cool to be running on these major highways and downtown streets that are normally choked with traffic.  We went through so many interesting and beautiful neighborhoods as well, and there were people lining the streets to cheer us on almost the whole way - it was awesome!  Since our race banners had our names on them, strangers were cheering us on by name as well, so that was a little boost.

As we approached the 13 mile point, we started looking forward to seeing the kids, my parents and my brother and his family.  They were all there cheering and waving, and we stopped to visit for a minute.  I didn't realize how much I was going to need the support, but it really made a big difference mentally to know that they were out there waiting for us.  Here they are as we came by!  Gus holding the "Go Claire" sign, Finn holding the"Go Matt" sign, Cousin Jack holding a cowbell, and Ted and Robyn (with Baby Bunny on board) in their HAPS shirts.  My parents were there too, but I think they were the ones taking pictures.

After the halfway point, things got pretty hard.  We stayed together until about mile 17, at which point Matt's various injuries started to kick in, and he slowed down in order to be able to make it to the finish.  We had agreed to stay together until one of us felt like slowing down, so I went on.  Not that I was running very fast at that point.  In fact, I would keep trying to walk for a few minutes, but by that point, walking was equally as painful as running, and I started to just want the whole thing to be over with, so I hobbled forward.  I will say that it was really, really uncomfortable.  Having gone through labor two times, I'm not sure I can say it was the worst pain I've ever been in, but the crucial difference was a mental one - during childbirth, there is no option to quit, whereas in this case, I had to fight off that impulse with every step.  It really is true that running is more mental than physical, because it's very hard to keep making yourself do something that your body is telling you to stop doing.

But we made it.  I crossed the finish line at 4 hours, 53 minutes, and Matt was right behind me at 5 hours, 10 minutes.  Our only goal time-wise was to stay ahead of the 6 hour course limit where they sweep you off the street if you're not going to finish in 6 hours.  So, mission accomplished, we celebrated with the family at the Parkinson's Society tent, enjoyed a cold beer and some salty snacks, and promised that we would never do it again.  However, by the time we got back home to North Carolina, Matt was talking about "next year." But I'm not promising anything!

Overall, the Parkinson's Society raised close to $50,000 with the event, and Matt and I personally raised almost $2600 ($100 per mile)!  Thanks again to everyone who supported us in so many different ways, and in particular to our friends Jay and Nina who went the distance and ran it with us for Parkinson's.

Run on!

Bird on a Wire

Friends, we're down to the wire.  Just 5 days from now we will lace up our shoes, say a little Hail Mary, and run the race.  I can't claim that we've been perfect in our training program, but we've run a long, long way in the past six months to get ready.  On Sunday, we each did our last long run - happily only six miles.

While I was running, I thought about what I wanted to write on the blog for my last entry before I left for Houston, where I will not be able to access this blog due to the elderly nature of my parents' computer.  First, I want to say thank you, thank you, thank you to all of you who have showed your support in your kind words, phone calls, emails, hugs, training runs with us, and financial contributions.  Preparing for this race has been much harder than I'd anticipated, both because of the time we've had to put in and because of the physical strain on our old bodies.  So many people offered to watch our kids while we ran, or suggested tips that helped combat the various aches and pains that at times made us doubt whether we should be doing this to ourselves.  Anyway, for all of that and more, thank you.

Toward the end of my 6 miles on Sunday, my IPod shuffle got around to some of those songs way at the end of the playlist that I usually don't hear because it restarts the list every time I charge it.  So I hadn't charged it for a while, and I had forgotten that one of my favorite songs - "Bird on a Wire" - was even on the list.  Leonard Cohen wrote it, and many people have sung it, but I have loved Aaron Neville's version ever since the Mel Gibson/Goldie Hawn movie of the same name came out in the 80's (it was a pretty cheesy movie, I admit, but the song stands the test of time).
Click here to listen to it on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T9ez80bQW4w

Listening to the lyrics and thinking about my dad and so many other people living with Parkinson's, I just was hit by how much I wish there was a way to make them free from this terrible disease.  If by running one marathon or a hundred marathons, I could turn the key in the lock that keeps my father locked inside of his body, I would do it.  I so wish, as the song says, I could come to him and say "it's completed, it's finished, it's been paid for."  It is one of the saddest things in life to realize that we are not able to take a burden from someone we love and carry it for them, even for a little while.

In fact, sometimes it is so hard to accept that limitation and watch another person suffer, that we turn away.  I have watched people become so uncomfortable around my father that they have to leave the room.  I have sometimes not known what to say to a friend who has lost a loved one, and so I have simply not said anything.  I have often become upset with my mother when she rejects some help or advice I'm trying to give her as she struggles to care for my dad, because it makes me feel helpless.  Maybe this is why we lean on social convention in situations where we can - flowers to a grieving friend, a meal to someone who is ill, raising money for a cause - to feel like we are doing something for another person in a situation where we can't truly ease their suffering.

And I'm sure that a big part of running this marathon is for me, for all those reasons.  It has been fun, if painful at times, to run and train with Matt.  We will enjoy celebrating when it is over and have a sense of accomplishment that we've done something that was really hard for us.  It has been nice to have something so concrete to focus on while we've been going through our long adoption process.  And I'm happy we've been able to raise money for an organization that concretely improves the quality of life for those with Parkinson's.  Aside from those things, I'm not sure what it's all about, except that I hope my parents know how much we love them and how proud I am of both of them for getting up and facing each day with humor, optimism and perseverance, no matter what the day may bring.

Thanks again to all  Check here on Wednesday for race pictures & results, and if you're in the Houston area, come join us on Sunday night at El Patio for a margarita on us to celebrate!!

The Taper

So, now that we're within two weeks of the race, we're tapering down the milage, which is good because it's cold as the proverbial witch's body part, and it's hard for this Texas girl to even go out of doors.  But we're still running short runs, trying to achieve some kind of optimal level of athleticism for the big day.
The kids and I leave to go down to Houston this coming Wednesday, where hopefully we can defrost for a few days before the race.  Matt arrives on Friday night, and our plan is to spend Saturday on the couch as much as possible, resting our legs.  After that, the rubber meets the road so to speak.

Misery

If I was good at doing things on the computer, I could make a little chart showing how I was feeling during our 20-mile training run today.  Since I can't, imagine a line that stays level for a long time (2 hours), then goes down a little, a little more, a little more, stops for a while to dry heave a little, and then finishes down around the bottom.  During the first half, accompanied by our awesome neighbor Andy (running much below his normal pace in order to keep us company), I felt pretty good.  In fact, I felt pretty cool - like a real athlete.  After a mid-point water break, however, things started feeling not so good.  Things like my hip joints, butt, legs and stomach.  At the 15 mile point, nausea set in and stayed with me for the long haul. As it turns out, it's really uncomfortable to run while nauseated.
Anyway, we did finish, and if we walked a little, well, I am still counting it.  We moved our bodies over a 20 mile path.  We never hailed down a passing car for a lift, we never banged on the front door of the houses we were passing to beg for help, and I only gave in to defeating negativism half a dozen times.  So overall, a major success.
One funny thing about living in a town the size of Winston-Salem is how many people will tell you that they were driving and saw you running.  And several times people have told me that they saw me running at one point and I looked pretty good, but when they were on their way home from the movies or whatever a few hours later and saw me again, I didn't look so good.  Someone Matt works with told him that he looked terrible running.  And today during the course of the four hours I was running, I definitely saw several cars more than one time.  And the drivers did not look so good the second time I saw them.
Happily, today was our last big run before the marathon.  Over the next few weeks, we'll taper down.  The idea behind the taper is that your body is so primed for running, that when you deprive it of that it will just want more of it, so when it comes time for the marathon, you just burst out of the gate.  I'm not so sure about that, but I certainly won't mind the part where I don't make myself do something to the point of vomiting for a few weeks.
Cheers!
Claire

p.s.  While we've been training, we've also had some other exciting developments here at the Calvin-Giegengack home.  Being the consummate blogger that I am, I've got a second blog going to keep friends and family up to date on our pending adoption.  Check it out at the link on the right - "and then there were five ...."

Matt goes the distance

Aubrey has gone turkey hunting once in his life and killed 1 turkey.  He likes to say he shot 2 turkeys that day, his first and his last.  Claire and I ran our 20 mile training run.  With that horrible thing accomplished I feel that I will run 2 marathons in Houston on January 17th.

Matt

Jingle Bells

Merry Christmas friends!  We have been busy getting ready for Christmas, having family in town, and pounding the pavement.  Our furthest run to date has been 17 miles - miserable - but we're looking forward to a 20 mile run this coming weekend.  So, while you're relaxing in your pjs and playing with your Christmas presents, think of us out there running, and running, and running ...
I hope the season is wonderful for you and your family, and I'll let you know how it goes!
Claire

Mistletoe Magic

So, the weather is turning cold, sometimes rainy, and there are so many days now where the absolute last thing I want to do is go for a run.  In fact, I was in a bit of a funk about this whole marathon thing.  But then, in spite of a persistent leg injury (ITB Syndrome - not IBS, he wants me to mention), Matt insisted that we sign up for the Mistletoe Half-Marathon here in Winston-Salem this past weekend.  I was totally unenthusiastic, especially as they were predicting freezing rain and possibly snow for Saturday morning.  But Matt insisted, and he isn't usually a person who insists, so I figured I'd better humor him and at least sign us up.

And then Saturday morning came around, and it was cold, and rainy, and we were really tired, and Matt's leg was still hurting, and ... we got up and did it anyway.  We had a bit of a lackluster start in that I was still in the bathroom of the YMCA when the starting gun was fired, so we had to hot-foot it down to the start line, but after that the whole thing was really fun.  As small as Winston-Salem is, it is amazing that over 900 people would come out to run 13 miles on a freezing December morning.  It's inspiring to see the mix of people - teenage cross-country kids who run 5 minute miles the whole way, 70+ year olds (several of whom finished long before we did), groups of friends, co-workers, and people big and small.  Whenever I run with a big group of people like that, I catch these waves of emotion and get choked up thinking about the collective spirit of all these folks.  Normally that's pretty embarrassing, but with the rain coming down so hard, I was totally low-profile.  Plus, running through familiar neighborhoods you see friends standing in their front yards with bathrobes on and kids banging on metal bowls to cheer everyone on, so I was smiling and waving half the time.      

So we both ran the whole thing and even felt pretty good afterwards.  And then we pretty much spent the whole rest of the weekend on the couch napping (me) and icing achy joints (Matt).  But I feel like we have our marathon mojo back and are getting excited for the actual race.  Thanks so much for for all the kind words of encouragement - we need it!