MARATHON ON SUNDAY!

First off, Happy New Year! It’s been a while since I’ve last posted. I didn’t really have much to update because I was slowly tapering my weekly runs so that I am ready for the Arizona Rock N’ Roll Marathon coming up….this Sunday!

Earlier this week, I had a nasty bout of a 24-hour flu. I’m recovering and should be all set to go for the big day. For some reason, this bug has me all dehydrated, so I’ve been trying to drink as much water and juice as humanly possible.

I’ve battled all kinds of insane injuries in the weeks leading up to this marathon, but I’ve survived. Ingrown toenails, sprained ankles, shin splints, side aches. You name it, I had it. It’s time to move on.

If you want to track me, you can probably click here, and type in my runner number 11440.

This will probably be my last post until after the marathon. I do want to point out that this marathon helps fund the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (LLS). I know that the LLS is one of the many reasons I have two really good people in my life.

Having said that, I want to make sure that I take time out to dedicate this upcoming marathon to those two: my good friend Rob Sunga and my cousin, Vikrum Ingle. Although they have never met each other, they have lots in common. They know me, they live in New Jersey, and I dedicate this next marathon to both of them.

Rob is one of my old college friends from when I was involved with PRSSA (Public Relations Student Society of America). We met at a conference and always kept in touch. Last summer, he was diagnosed with Lymphoma. This brave guy has battled several rounds of chemo and is now on his way to recovery, thanks to his great caretakers, and especially the heart that Rob brings to the table. This week, I will run for Team Rob!

Now I’m going to talk about my cousin Vikrum. I apologize in advance, because I am going to overuse the word “cool”…but it’s the only way to describe my cuz Vik. We weren’t in touch as often as we would have liked, but we always knew that we were family…and it was cool.

He doesn’t know this, but I always thought he was cooler than me because he lived near New York City. Little did I know that he was cooler than me because he was just cooler than me. I got to know him a bit in my visit to NYC in 1998, I got to know him a little bit better. He was so knowledgeable about “city stuff”. He was a cool kid. Later in his teenage years, he battled lymphoma. He fought through it and is now as strong as ever.

I dedicate this marathon, for Rob and Vikrum.

Being Injured Sucks…

Yeah, being injured sucks. But…it’s pictures like this that make me smile. I found this picture about a week ago, buried in a folder on my desktop. This was taken at about mile 10 when I ran the 2007 LA Marathon. Isn’t my shirt cool?

My friends and family have always had my back during my various, random adventures. This picture is just one example of that…Behind me in this picture is one of my very best friends Tom, and my Dad.

He Said It….

“You have to wonder at times what you’re doing out there. Over the years, I’ve given myself a thousand reasons to keep running, but it always comes back to where it started. It comes down to self-satisfaction and a sense of achievement.”

—Steve Prefontaine

For those of you unfamiliar with Steve Prefontaine, he was one of the best runners ever. Check out this video…watch the whole thing and pay attention to how he smokes out his competition towards the end…

A Story…

I remembered reading this story on my cousin, Vikrum’s blog. It is one of the best running stories that I have ever read. I hope you enjoy it. If you have already seen this, read it again…it never gets old.
Strongest Dad in the World

[From Sports Illustrated, By Rick Reilly]

I try to be a good father. Give my kids mulligans. Work nights to pay for their text messaging. Take them to swimsuit shoots.

But compared with Dick Hoyt, I suck.

Eighty-five times he’s pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in marathons. Eight times he’s not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a wheelchair but also towed him 2.4 miles in a dinghy while swimming and pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the handlebars — all in the same day.

Dick’s also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back mountain climbing and once hauled him across the U.S. on a bike. Makes taking your son bowling look a little lame, right?

And what has Rick done for his father? Not much — except save his life.

This love story began in Winchester, Mass., 43 years ago, when Rick was strangled by the umbilical cord during birth, leaving him brain-damaged and unable to control his limbs.

“He’ll be a vegetable the rest of his life,” Dick says doctors told him and his wife, Judy, when Rick was nine months old. “Put him in an institution.”

But the Hoyts weren’t buying it. They noticed the way Rick’s eyes followed them around the room. When Rick was 11 they took him to the engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was anything to help the boy communicate. “No way,” Dick says he was told. “There’s nothing going on in his brain.”

“Tell him a joke,” Dick countered. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was going on in his brain.

Rigged up with a computer that allowed him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his head, Rick was finally able to communicate. First words? “Go Bruins!” And after a high school classmate was paralyzed in an accident and the school organized a charity run for him, Rick pecked out, “Dad, I want to do that.”

Yeah, right. How was Dick, a self-described “porker” who never ran more than a mile at a time, going to push his son five miles? Still, he tried. “Then it was me who was handicapped,” Dick says. “I was sore for two weeks.”

That day changed Rick’s life. “Dad,” he typed, “when we were running, it felt like I wasn’t disabled anymore!”

And that sentence changed Dick’s life. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such hard-belly shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon.

“No way,” Dick was told by a race official. The Hoyts weren’t quite a single runner, and they weren’t quite a wheelchair competitor. For a few years Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway, then they found a way to get into the race officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the qualifying time for Boston the following year.

Then somebody said, “Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?”

How’s a guy who never learned to swim and hadn’t ridden a bike since he was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick tried.

Now they’ve done 212 triathlons, including four grueling 15-hour Ironmans in Hawaii. It must be a buzzkill to be a 25-year-old stud getting passed by an old guy towing a grown man in a dinghy, don’t you think?

Hey, Dick, why not see how you’d do on your own? “No way,” he says. Dick does it purely for “the awesome feeling” he gets seeing Rick with a cantaloupe smile as they run, swim and ride together.

This year, at ages 65 and 43, Dick and Rick finished their 24th Boston Marathon, in 5,083rd place out of more than 20,000 starters. Their best time? Two hours, 40 minutes in 1992 — only 35 minutes off the world record, which, in case you don’t keep track of these things, happens to be held by a guy who was not pushing another man in a wheelchair at the time.

“No question about it,” Rick types. “My dad is the Father of the Century.”

And Dick got something else out of all this too. Two years ago he had a mild heart attack during a race. Doctors found that one of his arteries was 95% clogged. “If you hadn’t been in such great shape,” one doctor told him, “you probably would’ve died 15 years ago.”

So, in a way, Dick and Rick saved each other’s life.

Rick, who has his own apartment (he gets home care) and works in Boston, and Dick, retired from the military and living in Holland, Mass., always find ways to be together. They give speeches around the country and compete in some backbreaking race every weekend, including this Father’s Day.

That night, Rick will buy his dad dinner, but the thing he really wants to give him is a gift he can never buy.

“The thing I’d most like,” Rick types, “is that my dad would sit in the chair and I would push him once.”

12 Miles and I’m On Top Of The World

What a great day to be running around Los Angeles. Today was our much anticipated 12 mile run (last week was cancelled due to poor air quality because of the fires). The morning started off very foggy, but once the sun burned off the mist, it was a PERFECT day to be outside.

Our course took us out of Griffith Park and up towards the foothills of Glendale. This was a great opportunity for us to get some hill training so that we are prepared for the marathon(s). Once we came back down the hill, we ran back towards Griffith Park and then into Burbank. We even passed the famed Disney Studios. Then we came back to our starting point.

I have no injuries to report. I must say that being a part of the AIDS Marathon program has been fantastic, especially the second time around. Each week I become stronger and more confident in my running. I can think back to last year during the 12 miler…I thought about the pain I had experienced. I couldn’t walk later on in the day of the run. Today, I was telling Ashu (my cousin who runs with me) after the run, that I could probably run another five miles. He looked at me like I’m a moron like he usually does, but that gave me my sense of accomplishment for the run.

As described in the title of this post, I really do feel on top of the world. Today’s run was so empowering and I feel much stronger because of it.

On a side note, a special note of thanks and congrats to Ashu for sticking it out and finishing the 12 miler. I know it was tough but we got through it. I’m glad you didn’t get mad at me when I pushed you through the pain.

This week, I plan on two recovery runs and next Saturday will be a 6 mile short run. I look forward to that!

Lastly, I am in need of fundraising support from everyone. I am required to raise at least $1,500 to complete this program…so far I am at a big fat ZERO! Please help me out…anything will help…you can give a donation as small as $5. It would mean the world to me. To donate, use the secure form by clicking here Thanks in advance!

As always, here is the map of today’s run…