Running Broad Street- 2019

When I found out I was pregnant, one of the first things I thought about was this year’s Broad Street Run. I was immediately resigned to the idea that I’d have to sit this one out, and that I’d be a cheerleader on the sideline. It took just a few moments for me to realize that wasn’t going to work. I wanted to do the fundraising. I’ve vowed to continue raising money and running until there is no more Cancer, so how would I just not do it? I decided to sign up, commit to raising the money and staying active. I accepted that I may be told at any time by my doctors I couldn’t run. The plan was to run unless it would put my baby at risk. Little did I know, we were about to lose Charlie to cancer not even two months later. 

Saying goodbye to my baby. 

After Charlie died, just getting off the couch was hard for the first couple of weeks. It was because I was committed to running Broad St. that I knew I had to stay active. Andy was training for a half marathon, and we’d go to the gym together. Back in January, running was still pretty easy (in hindsight anyway.) I remember one of the things that became difficult early on was breathing correctly, and of course, the feeling of having to pee the second I started running.

As the months went on, I became increasingly worried that I’d need to use every damn porta-potty on the ten-mile route. There were four of us running together and certainly didn’t want to have to make a lot of stops during the run. The last three times I ran it, I didn’t stop once. I knew (and accepted) this time would certainly be different. My pace slowed way down, and I found myself walking more than running. I was trying to make sure I was getting miles in, but never really stuck to my training program. I most definitely wasn’t running the miles I should have been, the most I even got up to before yesterday was five miles, two weeks ago…

When we were all but certain it was going to be raining again this year (just like our first time in 2016), I wasn’t thrilled but knew I’d prefer rain over heat. Although I wouldn’t choose to run in the rain, at the temperature it was yesterday, I knew it wouldn’t be too cold. I didn’t run with a poncho or any other special rain gear in 2016 and I didn’t plan on it this year either. 

Pre-Race dinner after accepting Top Fundraising award on behalf of Team CMMD

Ready to go for the morning. 

Saturday evening we attended the Team Determination pre-race dinner, where we were reminded on so many levels why we run, who we run for, and what the fundraising money provides to cancer patients all over the region. When we got back to the hotel we attached our ribbons to our shirts, laid out everything we needed for the morning, and checked the forecast one last time. 100% rain at 8am, there was no doubt it would be raining from the second we left the hotel until well after we were finished with the race.

I had the worst night’s sleep before a race ever, I was up at least every hour. I woke up thinking about names I needed to add to ribbons in the morning, what I was going to eat in the morning to hold me over for at least five hours, songs I wanted on my playlist that I had forgotten, and I checked the weather for fun a couple of times (just in case it had changed, haha.) We got up a little after 5:00 and left for the subway around 5:40. We got on an express subway around 6:15 and thought we had plenty of time to get to there for the team picture. Dressed in full-length garbage bags, bags around either our feet or sneakers, and shower caps for the girls, we were doing this thing!

It's just a little bit of rain! Waiting for the subway...

I never had a true moment of “I don’t know if I can do this” until we were on the subway, stopped because of another train. It was at least 15 minutes, it could have been longer. I started to feel nauseous, overheated, and an overwhelming desire to “get the f*** off that Subway.” It’s the closest I’ve ever felt to a panic attack- I started to doubt myself and was thinking maybe I wasn’t going to make it through this run. I knelt down and just started bawling (not abnormal these days) and then I told myself to get it together. I was doing this thing no matter what, and all I needed was some fresh air. We eventually got to our stop and I felt much better as soon as we got outside.

When we arrived at the Team Determination tent I was so happy to see my friend Erica (one of my heroes!) She just finished another round of chemo a couple of weeks ago and hasn’t been able to run much, yet she showed and up and was going to find a way to get through the 10 miles. She is who I’ve thought about time and time again when I wondered if I could do it this year.

With Erica before the run started. 

After about a half hour wait, our corral was called and it was time to go. Here are my thoughts about the run…

* I was so happy to be running with my three girls. Erin, Stacey & Erika promised me no matter how many times I had to use a porta-potty (it ended up only being 2!) and how slow I had to go, they wouldn’t leave my side. For months, this was hard to accept. I didn’t want to be the one to slow anyone down. Deep down I was so happy I could count on being with them the whole time no matter what happened.

Getting through it together, mile by mile. 

* The rain really wasn’t a big deal- maybe it helped that I’ve already done this run in the rain, or that it was warm and it actually kind of helped keep my body temp down. I used body glide on my feet, wore the same exact model sneaker I wore in ’16, and had my feet wrapped in doggie bags (you may laugh but they’re thin, I couldn’t feel them, and they helped keep my feet dry.) The leggings I wore did a great job repelling water and didn’t start to feel drenched until about mile 7. I got rid of my garbage bag and long sleeve t-shirt right away, and ran with the shower cap for about the first mile (what a look, haha.)

* I still need music to run. I was the only one who ran with headphones. I kept the volume lower than I usually do so I could talk and take in all of the cheerleaders and musicians, but I needed the distraction during our runs. (We intervaled 3-minute runs, 1-minute walks.) My playlist planning was poor and I think I listened to the same 15 songs several times.

The crowds were awesome this year! I remember being amazed in ’16 by all of the people who still came out and cheered for hours in the pouring rain. Then there are the musicians and DJs who set up their gear and under tents. They show up, just like we always talk about with running. The cheerleaders matter, and make such a difference for runners- especially the ones who don’t feel ready, or well trained, or confident about getting through the race. This was the first time in the four that I’ve run when I felt like that and the cheerleaders made such a difference!

* I literally felt like I had to pee the entire time. Every single step. I knew it was more of feeling like I had to versus really having to go, so I made it a goal to get to at least the third mile. The lines were long and I didn’t want to have to wait so I pushed it to four. I decided to run into a Wendy’s and hoped they’d give me pregnancy pity. No one was in there and the man who was working in the front was so nice! He came to the door and said “let me give you the code.” I was happy to only delay us a few minutes instead of waiting in a long porta-potty line. By the time we got to mile eight there were no lines (because normal people just want to finish the run by then) so I was able to go in and out real quick. Overall I was very proud of myself! On my training walks/runs, I’ve had to stop every mile or two. In the four times I’ve run this race, this was the only time I’ve ever stopped. Yay for running while pregnant!

* Approaching City Hall never gets old. I LOVE seeing it come within my sights and then knowing once we get there we're halfway done. I have a picture at that point from each year I've run.

We were still pretty far away from City Hall here, you can hardly see it!

* If you ever want to run a race, know that training is KEY! The last three times I trained pretty well for the race and never felt like there was an “easy part” and a “hard part.” This time was much different. Like I’ve already mentioned, I only ran up to five miles (once) and walked eight (once, back in March.) So, let’s just say I didn’t get the miles in beforehand. By the time we got to mile 6 my legs were burning. I remember saying “but my feet are fine!” At mile 8, my feet were no longer fine. Although I didn’t have blisters, they were hurting and tired. The last few miles we hard. I knew I’d get through it, but I just wanted it to be over.

* The finish line…oh, I’ve never been happier to see that Navy Yard sign that tells us “not done yet.” That sign does mean “you are almost done” though. We started seeing the photographers taking end-of-race photos, and that feeling of “you did it” came over me. All of the self-doubt, the questioning my decision to run, the wondering if I made the wrong decision…it all faded away. I ran this race, in the rain, largely untrained, thirty-one weeks pregnant, with three amazing friends by my side. A few hundred yards before the actual finish line I saw Andy on the left, phone in hand taking pictures of us finishing. He had finished nearly ninety minutes earlier and waited around for us. It meant the world to me. We crossed that line together, the four of us. I was so happy it was over, and that I got through it, and mostly I was happy I didn’t sit this one out!

Almost there!

We did it!

Sending Andy a kiss right before we crossed the finish line. 

Cancer stole him too. 

Our only picture from after the race. 

Each year, Andy & I run this race with more names on our ribbons. This year, we had to add our beloved dog Charlie to the list. We both miss him more than words can say. We raise the money, dedicate miles, and run this race to honor all of the people we know and love who have faced cancer. We also run for those we don’t know. There have been times over the last three years when I wondered what kind of difference it really makes. It seems like cancer is more and more vicious as time goes on, yet we know the money we raise is used to help cancer fighters live longer, gain access to treatment and clinical trials, and so much more. Most of all, we give them hope and sometimes it’s what they need most.

Sometimes you need a reminder not to quit.
Proud to have my 4th BSR medal to add to my collection. 

The Run- 5/1/16

I've known from the beginning of this journey, that I wanted to write about it. Like with so many other things, I wish I wrote more along the way. But now, almost two weeks after the actual run, I sit here and try to put exactly what the last 6+ months have meant to me into words. (I wrote down some notes about the race immediately after so I would be able to remember it mile by mile.) I had no idea how many people my deciding to run this race would touch. How much it would mean to those who have been affected by cancer. How doing something so small could end up being so big. I am a better person because of it all, and I also proved to myself I can do things I never thought I could do. 

This is my story, my race day experience, told with as much detail as I can remember. To be honest, a few hours after the race, I couldn't even really believe I did it. It felt like it didn't happen, but it did...in the cold, wet, pouring down rain. I ran 10 miles down Broad Street.

Race Day:

5:30am- Alarm goes off, surprisingly I actually slept pretty well. I had the "I have to get to sleep now" anxiety last night. So worried about not sleeping, worried about oversleeping, that I thought there was no chance I would actually...sleep. It could have to do with the lack of sleep over the last week. Whatever it was, I feel pretty good as I wake up. 

6:00am- We're ready to leave the hotel. We stayed at The Hyatt at the Bellevue in Center City. It's an easy walk to the subway so that's good. But yes, it's raining already. It's also cold. I tie two grocery bags around my sneakers and pray they stay dry until it's time to run. I'm thankful I bought the coat on clearance from Old Navy yesterday, but I'm worried I'm not wearing enough warm clothes for the three hour wait I have until it's go time. 

Waiting in the subway station at 6am

6:05am- The subway station is filled with Broad Street runners. Everyone is dressed with ponchos over their clothing, or garbage bags if you weren't lucky enough to get a poncho. Some people have two pairs of sneakers, some of their sneakers duct taped, or wrapped in bags like mine. You can sense the energy building, but also the disappointment that weather is in fact as bad as they predicted. For a short time last night the forecast gave us some hope that the rain would hold out until later in the morning. No such luck. 

6:10am- An empty subway train pulls into the station. I feel immediate relief. I was nervous because several people insisted we were risking it by taking the subway. We were told they are usually full and pass through Center City without stopping. Maybe we were just early enough or just lucky...either way, it was good to know we'd be able to get there with no problems. With Broad Street being shut down, it would have been tough to find a cab. 

6:30am- We get off the subway and immediately see Ben. We hang out in the subway station for a few minutes since staying dry is the goal at the moment. 7:15 is bag check cutoff at the Team Determination tent so we know we have to get moving. With bags still wrapped around my sneakers and ponchos on, we're off to find the tent. As we step outside and I realize just how cold and wet it is, (it was in the 40's) I feel grateful to have a tent to go to. Most people do not. 

7:00am- We find the tent and check our bags. I feel more relief when I see a large box of safety pins (we didn't know they didn't come with the bibs) and Team Determination ribbons (there were none left at the dinner last night.) This is getting real. I pin my bib onto my Team CMMD Broad Street tank top. We find a spot at one of the tables and I start writing out my ribbons. I've kept a list of the people I dedicated the miles to during my training. There really are a lot more than those listed, but at this point this will have to do. I know in my heart I've been running for them all. There are too many, way too many. Too many family members and friends. Too many parents or spouses of friends. Too many children. JUST TOO MANY. It all kind of starts to hit me. This hasn't just been training for a run, or proving to myself I could actually run 10 miles. This has been about the nearly $3,000 Andy & I raised for the American Cancer Society. It's about Andy's cousin who passed away from melanoma at the age of 32, or my two uncles who have battled aggressive forms of cancer in the last year. Or the messages I've received from a friend who is fighting cancer for the second time, and just started aggressive chemotherapy. It's about the messages from a friend who lost her mom, and then her best friend to cancer, all within a few years. It's about so many people, too many, that I can't write this without crying. I started writing out the names on the ribbons and realized there was no way I could give each person their own ribbon. I literally didn't have enough room on my back. So I fit as many names on each ribbon as I could, and I still had 15 or so filled. It made me really appreciate what it means to run for those who can't. Those who aren't here anymore, and would do anything to run 10 miles anywhere, those who have lost their hair and their sense of self as they go through treatment that is literally poisoning them, those who question whether or not they will ever have enough strength to walk a mile again, let alone run 10. I ask Andy to put all of the ribbons on the back of my shirt, and I hope they stay on through 10 miles of running in the pouring rain. 

7:45am- The "elite athletes" are lining up at the start line. Our tent is off to the side of the start line so we can see everything. The race is starting, it's still cold and raining, and I have while to wait until my corral takes off. I am so thankful to be under this tent, I'm still pretty dry. 

7:50am- Andy leaves to go to his corral (he is two in front of me). I learn that one of the Team Determination captains are walking us over to the appropriate corrals, and things are behind schedule. I decide to wait until they call my corral to line up even thought it's passed the recommended time. My thinking is the longer I can stay dry the better. I text one of the girls I'm supposed to run with and she's already left. I don't really know anyone, but I figure I'll find my group while we wait, once we walk over.

 

7:55am- I receive this text message from Leora. Her husband passed away from cancer early last year. I dedicated miles to him, but really, I'm running for her too. I love that she remembered it's race day.

8:22am- One of the Team Determination captains yell "Yellow"- that means it's my turn. I don't see anyone I know leaving the tent. As I start to rip the grocery bags off my sneakers, I ask a group of Team CMMD runners if I can run with them since I've lost my group. They tell me they are running intervals and I definitely do not want to do that (I tried running intervals during my training and I am convinced running that way cause my shin splints.) So, I guess I'm running by myself. We didn't even end up going to the actual corral. It was really weird, she just kind of dropped us off before the start line and said "start running now before the next group gets going". I have no idea if we were before or after the actual yellow group, but I was at the start line, so it was go time. 

8:25am- The beginning of the race is a blur. I was disoriented because I thought we were going to be waiting for a few minutes to start. I thought I was going to run with a group from Team CMMD who run at my pace. For the last six months all I've heard about is how much fun it is to run with a group. The laughs, pictures, encouragement, sense of team---everything that makes our team special, that's what you experience during Broad Street, together. I start out with the coat and poncho on, but quickly ditch the poncho. One of the coaches said last night "you don't train with a poncho, don't run Broad Street with a poncho". There was no way I wasn't going to be soaking wet so I just decided to get rid of it in the beginning. I kept the coat until I warmed up and then ditched that too. (All clothing thrown on the streets is donated to local homeless shelters). I don't know if there is a "correct way" to start a race, especially your first one longer than a 5k, but if there is, I didn't do it that way. I felt unsettled, kind of thrown into it, and alone. 

Mile 1- Thank God for good music, but it can/will make you cry. After the first few minutes and ditching the poncho/coat, and realizing I was going to run this thing alone, I settled in. It hit me, I'm running a 10 mile race right now. The last month has been rough, I've been sick and only ran three times (6 miles, 9 miles and 3 miles). I'm thinking "Am I going to be able to do this? It's ok if you have to walk, let go of expectations. Just make it until mile 5 and then walk if you have to. Take it all in! They keep saying take it all in." 

Empire State of Mind comes on (kind of weird a song about NYC comes on while I'm running the biggest Philly race of the year). For some reason that song gets to me, and .6 miles in the tears start. I just can't believe that I am doing this. All of the people standing in the pouring rain cheering us on (in one of the worst parts of the city), women with megaphones outside of a church with their children. All of the names on my back. The whole thing feels completely overwhelming. As the tears mix with the raindrops I tell myself to get it together. There is a long way to go, right now is not the time to get emotional. Right then I decide I'm running this thing, I'm doing what I set out to do. I'm not stopping, I'm not walking. I've worked my ass off to build up to this and I need to show myself I can do it. 

Mile 2- As I start running the second mile, a girl in front of me is wearing shirt "I used to be 280 lbs, if I can do it, you can do it." She looked amazing. I'm actually feeling pretty good and I'm not cold at all. I also feel like my feet are ok and I pray for no blisters. 

Mile 3- I see a sign on the sideline that says "If Trump can run, you can too." You're damn right about that! There are a lot of great signs and they help push me along. I know the crowd is thin because of the crappy weather, but those who did come out really help with morale!

Mile 4- Next sign that resonates, "Pain is temporary, Internet stats are forever." This one reminds me that I've worked for months to get to this point. I can do this, I can do this, I will do this!

Halfway there, in front of City Hall

Mile 5- My exact thought "Holy shit, I'm at mile 5 and I feel great. I can keep going, I don't need to walk." It's raining hard now. I'm soaking wet, but my feet feel good and I'm not cold. I also don't feel like I have to pee, which was another worry I had. I didn't want to have to take time to use porta-potties along the route. Maybe I'm dehydrated, who knows? All I know is I'm halfway done and I'm feeling better than I ever thought could be possible. Since I'm running alone, I don't have any one to take a picture of me in front of City Hall. I stop real quick and attempt a selfie but everything is so wet it's hard to get one. I try to "dry" of my phone with my soaking wet shirt and quickly ask a spectator to snap a picture of me.

 This is the only time in my life, other than when I played softball, that I can remember wearing a baseball cap. This was given to us the week before the race during my company trip to the Bahamas. I never even thought about wearing a hat during the race but it was recommended last night to help keep the rain out of our eyes. While it may not be the most fashionable accessory, I am so glad I had this hat. I kept it on until mile 8 and then donated it by tossing it onto the street. 

Mile 6- As I'm trucking along, a man comes up to me and asks me about the ribbons on my back. With everything being so wet it's hard to see and he was wondering what they were for. I told him about Team Determination and Team CMMD. I told him about the ribbons and the fundraising we've done since November. He then tells me he's a survivor, and that he never thought he'd be able to run another Broad Street again. He's happy to be back. I give him a hug and tell him I'm glad he's back too, and that Mile 6 is now dedicated to him. What a moment, as I tell myself "no tears."

Mile 7- Somehow I'm still feeling pretty good, it really is a miracle. I knew Ivo (one of our Team Determination coaches), and a bunch of Team CMMD cheerleaders would be on the left side cheering us on. I cross over so I'd be on that side and give them all high fives. I start to believe I'm really going to do this without walking. I'm almost there! They say Mile 7 is when it starts to get hard. The crowd thins out and there are still 3 miles to go, but I'm ok. 

Mile 8- Ok, I'm ready for this thing to be over. My feet are starting to hurt, they're soaking wet but thank God I still do not have blisters. I'm starting to feel pain, nothing specific, just an all over kind of pain. There are large puddles everywhere and I finally land in not one, but two of them during Mile 8. Let's just say I'm glad I've avoided doing that until now. I keep telling myself "just 2 more miles" but it does seem like an eternity. 

Mile 9- The end is near and I know I've got this! The crowd starts to thicken as we approach the Navy Yard. I text Andy and tell him I'll be finishing in about 10 minutes.  I try to pick up my speed a little knowing it's just one more mile and I want to finish strong. I've only had a couple of sips of water so far and I grab Gatorade from a volunteer, take a gulp and throw the cup down. I can't even find the words to explain what the last quarter mile felt like. I could see the finish line, and I remember running faster, passing people, just trying to finish as strong as I could. 

The Finish Line- Bam! You cross that thing and the world stops. There are people above you taking photos, people yelling "keep moving" trying to help with the inevitable bottleneck. All I know is I crossed the finish line alone, just like I ran the whole race. Most of my training I did alone too. I did this thing, and I did it (mostly) on my own. It was a little disappointing to finish without anyone around cheering for me. However, it was also a very empowering moment for me. I realized it didn't matter if anyone was watching me finish, I know I finished. I know I ran that whole thing without walking at all. I know I did something I NEVER thought I could do. I know the training and preparation I put into this for five months is what got me through, even when the last month was concerning because of my being sick. I carried all of those people I've been running for in my heart, their names on my back, as I ran across that finish line. If you would have told me year ago I'd finish running Broad Street in 2016, I would have called you crazy. 10 miles down Broad Street, thousands of dollars raised for the American Cancer Society, and countless precious moments throughout it all. What an incredible experience this was. 

After- No one tells you about after. How you can actually feel almost numb during the first few hours after the race, or how you can feel a depression of some sort in the days after. I felt both. We had a pretty long and wet/cold walk back to the subway from the Team Determination tent. When we got back to the hotel, I took a hot shower. I'm not sure I've ever felt more thankful for warm water. For the remainder of race day, I kept saying and thinking "I don't even feel like I just ran that race." I really didn't. It was so weird, and still is to me now. 

I took the day after the race off, not knowing if my body would hate me after running 10 miles in the cold rain. It was the right thing to do, because I mentally needed the day to recover as well. I found myself in tears more than once, overwhelmed by the fact that I did actually accomplish this goal, and kind of sad it was all over. I wrote down the key memories I had about the race so I could, at some point, write this story. I know there will never be another Broad Street run like my first, because now I know I can do it. Next time, I'll aim for a better time, and maybe to have a little more fun. Because now that I've ran this run once, I'll definitely be doing it again. 

Thank you to everyone who donated, you helped Team CMMD donate almost $300,000 to the American Cancer Society this year! Together, Andy & I raised almost $3,000, well beyond our initial goal of $1,000.

My certificate from ACS- the other half of our fundraising $ was in Andy's account.

FUNDRAISING FOR BROAD STREET 2017 HAS STARTED. IF YOU FEEL INCLINED, PLEASE CLICK HERE TO MAKE A DONATION. NO AMOUNT IS TOO SMALL! 

It's Personal!

Too many people I know personally have been affected by cancer. It feels like I think of someone new almost daily. I pray every day that in my lifetime, the cure to cancer is found.

As I continue to train for BSR'16, each mile I run will be dedicated to someone who has fought, or is fighting cancer. When I run on May 1st, I will wear a shirt with each person's name on my back. I am running for them...If you feel inclined to make a donation to the American Cancer Society, please click HERE to do so through our fundraising page. Thank you for your support!!

If you feel inclined to make a donation to the American Cancer Society, please click HERE to do so through our fundraising page. Thank you for your support!!

I will keep the list of miles and names here...an (*) indicates the person listed is now an angel above us who lost their battle with cancer.

DEDICATION MILES:

1. Melissa Sicola*
2. Gary McTague
3. Scott McTague
4. Jean Dayton
5. David Haas* (Leora Haas)
6. Tommy DeVito* (Mary DeVito)
7. Cindy Chmielewski
8. Lori McClure
9. Judi Thompson
10. Adelaide Ruess* (Jill Harris & Kate Furda)
11. Laia Drendall-Pugh (Julie Drendall)
12. Dave Monsour
13. Harry Mansmann*
14. Joseph Flok* (Laura King)
15. Russ Thornton*
16. Bill Keenan* (Kelly Keenan)
17. Sebastian Raclaw (Ian Ashley)
18. Les Cooper* (Althea Cooper)
19. Christine Groden* (Jess Nardone & John Groden)
20. Heather Frantz
21. Diane Willan
22. Karen Cole (Michelle Cole)
23. Alberta McGeehan*
24. James McGeehan*
25. Cathy Paradiso (The Giordonello Family)
26. Leo Paradiso* (The Giordonello Family)
27. Rosemary Copeland* (Lisa Moser)
28. Stefania Wojnarowska* (Lisa Wojnarowski)
29. Katie Koebel* (Lisa Wojnarowski) 
30. Denise Gallardo* (Lisa Wojnarowski)
31. Donna Pitko (Rich Schnabel)
32. Anne Woodrick* (Naoma Green)
33. Katie Manning (Naoma Green)
34. Joan Natale (Jennifer Stiefel)
35. Brenda Fay* (Heather Nardy)
36. Kristen Dellaporta* (Heather Nardy)
37. Lalit Patel* (Rupal Patel)
38. Joey Clayton* (Laura King)
39. LaVonne Green* (Tessa Schatteman)
40. Baby Basil (Team CMMD)
41. Steve Porreca (Bethany Porreca)
42. Andy Reddick*
43. Mary Bates (Craig & Debbie Willoughby)
44. Michelle Keller
45. Sam Richberg* (Valerie McKinney)
46. Barbara Richberg* (Valerie McKinney)
47. Vania Medwid
48. Lt. Sebastian Raclaw (Ian Ashley)
49. Brecklynn Allgood (Team CMMD)
50. Randi (Momastery)
51. Walter Fontenella (Dr. Andrew Fieo)
52. Rose Fieo (Dr. Andrew Fieo)
53. Jeff Leavitt (Neely Meals)

Broad Street 2016

Our first race together- Run From the Sun in memory of Andy's cousin Melissa

Running the Blue Cross Broad Street Run is something we have talked about doing for years. We decided 2016 is the year we WILL run it, and we've opted to join a team that raises money for the American Cancer Society. Here is our why...

As we talked about running the race, and learned of a fantastic foundation and team in our area (Team CMMD), a list started forming in our minds. We do not want to see this list grow longer.  We do not want any more of our friends and family, or their friends and family, on this list. We don't want people we don't even know on this list either, because they are someone's friend or family. This list brings us to tears because it is too long. Unfortunately we are not the only ones with a list like this. 

The list is every person we know who is fighting cancer, has fought and over come cancer, or has lost their battle to cancer. Millions of people every year walk, run, bike, swim or whatever else, while raising money to help fight cancer. This is what we can do...we can make the commitment and continue to raise awareness and funds until there are no more people added to that awful list. 

I never thought I could run 10 miles, I've never ran more than 4. I am nervous and excited and anxious and all of those things you feel when you commit to something you're not so sure you can do. But then I think about how lucky I am to be healthy, and I find it easier to commit to this challenge in honor of those who don't have that option due to their illness. I will run the 10 miles for everyone I know who has been affected by cancer. 

Please help us reach our goal of $1,000, no donation is too small. $1, 5, 25... it doesn't matter. We know that many small donations will add up to something extraordinary. Knowing we have your support would mean the world to us as we set out to do something that will make a difference in the fight against cancer. 

Thank you...and if you live in the area, we'd love to have you come cheer us on in Philly on May 1st! 

PLEASE CONSIDER DONATING THROUGH OUR FUNDRAISING PAGE! ALL $ RAISED GOES DIRECTLY TO THE AMERICAN CANCER SOCIETY. 

I have gratitude today for...
* a beautiful morning for driving across FL. I dropped John off at the airport around 8:30 and headed to Port St. Lucie. The drive was gorgeous! It was a lot like the country part of our drive from Jacksonville to Ft. Myers. Beautiful open farm land, more cows than you can imagine and no traffic. I listened to my iPod on random (25,000 songs) so I heard a little bit of everything. 
* finding a cute place with an outdoor patio to meet Melany for lunch in Port St. Lucie West. It was pretty incredible to see her after all these years (15)! It felt like no time had passed, and now I regret it took me so long to reach out. We have, and always have had, so much in common. I think it's pretty cool after so much time, we were able to talk about real-life things with each other. We are hoping to get together when she comes to NJ in June. 
* an easy hour and a half drive from Port St. Lucie to Cocoa Beach. It was cute when I got there, the kids didn't know I was coming so they were surprised. 
* drinking wine and hanging out with Jeff & Megan. We had black bean nachos and guacamole for dinner. It was really good and I'll definitely try making the same thing at home. Of course I'm telling myself I have to do a few weeks (at least) of clean eating before summer starts. 
* Jeff being ok when he fell of the top of the car trying to get on the roof "because the view is so cool". I'll pretty much do anything but it didn't seem like a good idea to me. As I was going to check it out he fell and I was really worried he hit his head. He didn't and he was fine---he was very lucky.