I'm Running for Dawn

When you’re from a small town and high school graduation is on the horizon, all you can think about is getting out and going away; that escape can’t come soon enough.  At least that’s how it was for me.  I was going far away, Missouri to start and who knows where else as I left for basic training on my 18th birthday that summer. I returned to the area for a short time during college but never really came back home.  What I gained in freedom and world travels ultimately cost me the tightness of the bonds with the family and friends that I no longer saw frequently.

Dawn and I went to school together in junior high and high school; we were both in band and DECA. We were close for a time but not as much afterwards due to my absence and the different paths our lives took.  I remember coming through her checkout stand at Hasting’s at some point and saying hello, and we tried to catch up in the few short minutes we had; I have no idea how long ago that was, and it was the last time I saw her.  More recently through Facebook we became reacquainted in the general terms we are with most of the people on our friend list, little bits here and there but not really revealing what’s going on in our lives. That is, until she got sick.

The posts started out last summer about how she wasn’t feeling well, and there was even discussion of blood transfusions. I remember being concerned for her without knowing what was going on. Then the announcement came: leukemia. I was devastated for her, what a scary word let alone a diagnosis. I had no experience or context for it and felt helpless except to comfort her through the hollow form of the computer. During one of her hospital stays she posted the phone number to her hospital room, a quiet request for contact. I remember seeing that and something inside me told me to pick up the phone and call. I’m not sure how long we talked, but it was a better life summary than that day at the checkout stand. The time and distance slipped away as we chatted; the good news was that they had received a list of possible donor matches and she would be home for the Thanksgiving holiday.  She also told me she would be coming to Seattle in the spring, and I told her I have an extra room and we could work out details later for visitors and if she needed help. We talked about her family, her three children; I couldn’t believe their ages and laughed that I was going to have to finally admit that we weren’t as young as we once were.  I wished her well and promised we would keep in better touch.

I never dreamed that that phone call would be my last chance to talk to her; I certainly wasn’t thinking it when I called that day.  I just knew she needed a friend.

Despite initial positive responses to her treatments, Dawn got sick shortly after Thanksgiving and then slipped into a coma.  Her husband Doug posted frequently about her progress and what the doctors were saying.  It seemed that she was coming around and one night he updated that she would be moved to a nursing home for rehabilitation. Then the next morning he posted that she was gone; it was a few days before Christmas. I fell out of my chair to read those words, I couldn’t believe it. Hadn’t she been getting better? What about her children?

I got a call that afternoon from a mutual friend who had been closer to Dawn; she wanted me to know what a difference I made that day by calling.  I was really humbled to hear that, as I had no idea that it had meant so much to her.  So the next time something inside you whispers to do something, don’t wait. Act now. You never know what an impact you might have; you just might make somebody’s day.  You might  not get another chance.

I had heard of Team in Training (TNT) but had opted for a different route to get me to my first marathon in January.  I stood alone in my corral in Phoenix surrounded by a sea of purple and shouts of "Go TEAM!" and all of a sudden the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society held a new meaning for me.  It's an organization with a mission: to fight back against cancer and help care for those it hurts.  I knew then I would run another marathon, and I knew it would be for a bigger cause than just for me.

Dawn’s oldest son’s initials are TNT; that sealed the deal. This is the group for me, and this is where I belong. This marathon is for Dawn.

Making a Difference, One Step at a Time

Yesterday I heard an old story again, a timeless tale that never gets old.  It's referred to as the starfish story and there are several variations.  I found this one cited to The Star Thrower by Loren Eiseley:
Once upon a time, there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work.  One day he noticed a young man who was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean.

He came closer still and called out "Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?"

The young man paused, looked up, and replied "Throwing starfish into the ocean."

"I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?" asked the somewhat startled wise man.

To this, the young man replied, "The sun is up and the tide is going out.  If I don't throw them in, they'll die."

Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, "But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can't possibly make a difference!"

At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, he said, "It made a difference for that one."

There is something very special in each and every one of us. We have all been gifted with the ability to make a difference. And if we can become aware of that gift, we gain through the strength of our visions the power to shape the future.

We must each find our starfish. And if we throw our stars wisely and well, the world will be blessed.
 --
What a simple yet powerful message.  Sometimes it's hard to think we, one little person, can help drive change, and quite rarely do we do it alone.  But we must not give up.

That's how I feel about my contributions to LLS.  There is so much to do, so many people to help, in the fight against cancer.  I will do my part, what I can, to help.  For those who have joined my efforts, I'm so grateful for your support as you join me.  If we all do what we can to help, together we will make a difference, one step at a time.

Where does running take us?

This image really caught my attention.  It’s been said a lot lately that I just seem to be running away from my problems, and I won’t deny that I’ve had a hefty share of things to work through lately. But I often find myself back where I started, generally wiser and occasionally for the better. The routes I run tend to be circular in nature, one way or another, as I always end up back at my house or my car. Running away? Not so much. Running to free up, if only for a short while, the constricting thoughts invading my subconscious? Absolutely. At the end of my run as I’m gasping for breath, having left everything I have to give out on the road, I’m calmer, more focused, and better collected. That’s what running gives back to me. If we could really run away from our problems more people would join the sport.



Running towards something?  Now there’s a concept to consider, I know I don’t do enough of that.  My races are literally my best examples, setting a goal to work towards which culminates at the finish line, but I'm still working towards moving other areas of my life in that direction as well.  Usually I just get it in my mind that I want to do or have something and I don’t let go easily while trying to obtain it.  But honestly what's more typical is that I've let life happen without a lot of direction on my part and or a lot of thought on where I was going or what my future would entail.  I have things I want to accomplish, but I haven’t generally found myself on a dedicated path to get there. This is finally changing, as I've started taking more control and ownership of my life and my future.

So while we may be inclined to try to run away from it all, we usually just end up right where we need to be.

National Running Day 2011

I've been anticipating today again this year; it’s now been a full year since I fully recommitted (again!) to running.  What have I learned?

I’m a lot stronger than I thought I was in some ways and I’m not nearly as strong as I thought I was in other ways. Most tests of strength are of the mind, not the body; this is especially true of the marathon.

Injuries are reminders to listen more closely to what’s really going on inside.

Learn to love the foam roller. Don’t skimp on stretching or good shoes. Cross-training is critical.

If you don’t have any skin in the game you won’t see it through. If it’s worth it to you, give it your all and you won’t regret the effort you put in, regardless if the outcome isn’t what you wanted.

You won’t always get what you want or achieve your goals on the first shot; sometimes they need to be reframed into something different before they can be realized.

You can’t wait for nice weather to go run, especially here! While outside won’t always be pleasant or warm or dry, the feeling of a good run will (mostly) outweigh the misery of the elements.

It takes a lot of guts to run a marathon; it takes a lot more than that to run another one.

Friends are good; good friends are better. Friends will come and go from your life, so it’s best to treasure your time with them while you have it.

Without all the bad times I would have never learned to enjoy the good times. Everything always works itself out in the end. (Thanks for that one Matt!)

Just start new and see where it leads you. (Thanks Tony!)

So I look forward to what this next year will bring, in running and in life.