2010 Marathon Start

It was a perfect day for running and my experience with the Boston Marathon significantly lowered the pre-race anxiety levels. The day started a little before 5:00am in order to make it to MGH and the bus to Hopkinton by 6:05 and the starting gun at 10:30. Amy Flynn and company at MGH really go to a lot of trouble to make the pre-race ordeal less Spartan than the independent race experience. We had a nice bus, a warm tent, plenty to eat and drink and some entertainment to round out the hours. The Boston Athletic Association deserves a shout out as well, in my experience, everyone and everything BAA is well planned, cheerful and helpful.

Crowd getting ready in Hopkinton

If you have read prior installments of this blog, you probably know that knee problems essentially benched me for most of the winter and I wasn’t really prepared this time around, at least not as prepared as I like to be. This may actually be the first time I started a race wondering if I was up to finishing it. It wasn’t easy but I crossed the finish line after 4h53m32s. That’s not as fast as I fantasized about but about where I expected to finish this year. I am satisfied; besides, it will make achieving my sub 4 hour marathon goal seem more dramatic. I also want to express my gratitude to the experts that helped eliminate my left knee from the list of barriers to success; Dr. Bradley at High Performance Sports Medicine and Jill and Sara at Sports Therapy and Rehabilitation.

GO WICKED

It was great to see the Wicked Running Club at mile 17. Apparently, the Wicked Gel Stop has become a motivational milestone for me. From the start, I kept thinking “if I can just make it to the Wicked Stop”. Once I passed the halfway mark and started ticking off the back side miles, my confidence grew as did my longing for some Wicked Gel. I spotted Colin and Rachel first, then the long Wicked line including Beth O’Grady, Doug Bollen, I think I saw Shari Hewson and Adam Fitch; you know I was moving so fast, it was just all a blur . The Wicked Stop definitely helped catapult me up that series of hills on Comm. Ave. that in years prior did not seem to me to be that big of a deal; I suspect the gel was helpful too. Thanks for saving me some chocolate.

Halfway Mark of the Boston Marathon

GO MECHE FAMILY SUPPORT

Kristin, Atticus and Alexander were great and this was the first year I actually spotted them near the finish line. I lack the skill to capture in words just how powerful that moment felt; it was better than the finish line just a few hundred feet away. Thank you Allison Brooks, Paul Durand and Sarah Nelson (listed alphabetically—I lack the courage to try and rank their contributions). Needless to say, without your support, tolerance, nagging, etc. our outreach would not be so effective or so darn interesting .

Meche Family Post Race at MGH with Support Poster!

After a quick shower at Fitcorp we went to MGH to get my car and took a brief detour into the lobby to see the poster that MGH put up. Next was the post race dinner; we seem to have developed a tradition as this is the third year in a row at Finz in Salem. I want to give them a particular shout out for the extra hospitality (thanks Joe, Jen, Kate and of course Geo).

SUPPORTERS, FRIENDS AND FAMILY

I get more credit than I deserve for the running part of this enterprise; the truth is I find running to be a selfish and enjoyable act (usually). The people who are making the most difference are those of you supporting this Cancer Care for Children program by writing a check or pressing that www.FirstGiving.com/Meche_Marathon_Team button. Thank you for all you do and give. I promise to keep running if you keep giving.

First of all, a BIG THANK YOU to everyone who has supported our cause – whether by donation or encouragement, it means a lot.  This year, we celebrated Alexander’s last day of chemotherapy and his first major year of recovery thanks to MGH Cancer Care for Kids.  As the day of the race looms closer, I get a little more nervous.

I invite you to follow me online through BAA.org’s Athlete Tracking which will be up and running on Monday April 19th.  Search for me and follow my progress at every 5K marker: bib number 25881. It might not be pretty or a personal best, but my mission is greater than all of us.  For those of you didn’t see it, here is my “Countdown to Raceday” email blast as well….and once again, my sincerest thanks!

Wristbands love the Irish - thanks Conleth

Our good Irish friend Conleth O’Flynn sent this picture in last week.  Needless to say this is the most unique place we’ve seen our wristbands to date.

Can you do better? Send us your pictures or post them to my facebook page!

(to email your unique wristband photos, send to mmeche[at]wsarchitects.com)

I used to think enlightenment was like illumination – rays of clear reason showering down on the cold dark ages of ignorance. I was raised on depictions of god descending from heaven on beams of blinding golden sunshine, heralded by angels, while man cowers in awe. In that Christian worldview, faith and redemption are the gifts of enlightenment, bestowed on us from above. But leukemia gave me a more personal, empowering outlook on enlightenment – one that brought me comfort during my son’s illness and treatment. I believe it will also help me to find meaning and purpose in the future, when our lives are not so clearly and inevitable defined by the roles of patient, caregiver, survivor, healer.

That new understanding goes all the way back to D-day. No, not the allied invasion of occupied Europe on June 6th, 1944. For me, D-day is and always will be June 2, 2006. That’s diagnosis-day – the day Alexander was diagnosed with ALL. In my life, that day is like a big red arrow on a map that says “you are here.” That day made everything clear: you are not a happy, healthy family; your child is not well; you are not going home tonight; you are fighting cancer. That day, I felt a tremendous weight fall down on me. I’m not speaking metaphorically here, I actually felt a heavy, physical burden which made it hard to move and left a constant, dull ache in my belly, like a hard punch to the solar plexus. I was struck and amazed by the lasting physical pain of that burden.

…your child is not well; you are not going home tonight; you are fighting cancer.

I was also struck by the calm I felt, once I was able to move… once a few decisions were made… once we arrived at MassGeneral Hospital… once we had a plan. You see, when you’re faced with a difficult task, like slaying a beast – or three and a half years of cancer treatment – you can become easily overwhelmed the enormity of the undertaking. Unless you have a plan. And that’s what we got at MassGeneral. Like a good story, our plan had a beginning, a middle, and an end. Our plan broke our treatment down into discrete, 90-day phases. Our plan had a job for each family member. Our plan identified risks, hazards, and red flags to watch for. Our plan took our focus off where we were and placed it on what we had to do. Our plan made our priorities crystal clear. And it’s the absolute nature of those priorities, the clarity of that vision, which brought me to my new enlightenment.

…when you’re faced with a difficult task, like slaying a beast – or three and a half years of cancer treatment – you can become easily overwhelmed the enormity of the undertaking. Unless you have a plan. And that’s what we got at MassGeneral.

When you’re involved in a potentially life-threatening battle, a lot of things become suddenly less important. If it doesn’t fit in the plan, it’s expendable. It’s okay if we don’t sign up for soccer this year. We don’t need to take a family vacation. It doesn’t matter if I send out Christmas cards. The lawn looks fine all overgrown like that. And getting a manicure is totally irrelevant. Many, many things that once mattered in my life became completely immaterial. And as I let those little stresses go, as I let the minor priorities fall by the wayside, I felt freer… less restricted… lighter. And I realized that what I was experiencing was enlightenment. My burden was lightened, lessened, not because some understanding dawned on me from above, but because I myself was lifting off and discarding my misunderstanding, my confusion, my distraction with silly things.

And as I let those little stresses go, as I let the minor priorities fall by the wayside, I felt freer…And I realized that what I was experiencing was enlightenment.

And just as they were there with the plan, the folks at MassGeneral were instrumental in my enlightenment. By focusing clearly and constantly on what’s best for my son, they helped me keep my priorities straight. At the clinic, we never had to explain why we wore a wig – or why we now refuse to cut our full head of hair. It’s o.k. to be cranky, to be sore, to be scared. It’s o.k. to overreact to a cough, a bruise, a fever. If cartoons make the infusion go quicker, then crank up the volume. If the medicine goes down easier in a spoonful of chocolate sauce, then pour it on. If there’s a way to make kids feel comfortable, feel special, feel happy while getting well, it is embraced by them. By always providing patience, compassion, a smile, they remind us that when we talk about Cancer Care for Kids, we’re talking about Care for Kids.

If the medicine goes down easier in a spoonful of chocolate sauce, then pour it on.

Now that Alexander’s treatment is complete, I feel I can look back on the enormity of our undertaking. Now that we have killed the beast, I can finally look around at our current situation to say “you are here.” And I do so with humble encouragement for those still engaged in battle, and with thanks for those who helped along the way. My gratitude includes not only the fine medical providers, but the caring of many family members, friends, and strangers who helped us along the way: the Yawkey Building security guard who located a lost Gameboy after hours; the ladies who knit hats for chilly little heads in the winter; music and art therapists who make clinic visits more fun and exciting; thousands of donors who give without any hope of seeing the smiles that result; and brave marathon runners who train all through the winter just to take on 26.2 grueling miles of punishment in the spring. These folks and so many others lightened my burden, and helped Alexander survive. And my meager advice for runners and caregivers alike is this: focus on your plan, and lighten your burden. Stretch your muscles, clear your head, and stay your own pace. Water up and get fuel when you need it and where you find it. Cry when you have to. Smile when you can. If there’s something you don’t need, leave it behind. And don’t think about Heartbreak Hill while you’re still in Hopkinton. It looks a whole lot better when seen from the finish line.

For those of you not familiar with Marathon training, most programs call for regularly increasing weekly mileage peaking about 3 weeks before the race and then what is known as race tapering. One variation of conventional wisdom suggests the peak training run of 20 miles.  We are now about  3-weeks before race day and today was the traditional MGH marathon team’s 20-miler. We were all invited to Howard’s (Dr. Weinstein) house which is about a block off of Commonwealth Ave in Newton near to mile 20. We all hop on a bus and motor out to Hopkinton and then run back to Howard’s house, right at the foot of Heartbreak Hump, how convenient! This is also when we pick up our t-shirts and racing singlet.

Speaking of racing singlet, here is my collection. Guess what they have in common? Guess correctly and I will send you a MMT wristband.  If you guess wrong, I will still send you a MMT wristband.

Back to the training run. I had an awful time with it and ended up walking a fair bit of the last four or five miles, everything hurt. Two years ago, I had actually trained out to a 30 mile run on this day; last year I did about 24 miles. One additional complication is that my stride sensor needs recalibration because I think it is not reporting distance very accurately. That 14 mile run the other day was probably just a 13 miler.  With just 3 weeks left I really don’t have much chance to train for additional endurance; I will try to put in a 10-miler tomorrow or Tuesday before fully recovering from today but after that, it is time to start consolidation and rest.

I need a strategy (that does not involve the Green Line) to ensure I can cross the finish line before the BAA closes down the course. At this point, I am not at all optimistic about time or pace. I plan to run a very conservative race, probably keeping my pace well into the 10 minute per mile zone for the first half, maybe even through heartbreak hill. Before my knee problems, I hoped to be breaking into the threes this time, as in 3:59:50, which calls for a 9:20ish pace. One common mistakes for Boston runners is an over fast start, the first 5 miles is a comfortable downhill that leads runner to assume that they are faster than they thought. Many coaches suggest running a reverse split where the last half of the race is faster than the first. I tend to run a flat race staying fairly consistent throughout the course. I am reminded of the Greater New Orleans Runners Association. Back about 1984, while still living in the Crescent City, I was attracted to join this running club by their motto “Start slow then ease off”. I wonder what happened to that racing singlet.

-Mark

I got these wristbands to help promote our cause and also to say thank you to those who have donated to MassGeneral through Meche Marathon.

If you would like a FREE wristband, please send me your information (mmeche [at] wsarchitects.com or find me on facebook), or if you want to donate check out my First Giving Page, and I will send out wristbands as a thank you. For all those that have already given, we’ll be sending them your way asap!

I appreciate everyone’s support, your donations go a long way. The funds we raise go directly to support the Cancer Care for Kids, an organization that is very close to mine and my family’s heart. Thank you!

-Mark

GAME ON! I wasn’t really sure what to expect returning to see Dr. Bradley after my 3 weeks of physical therapy. The therapy has been very educational, I have a much better understanding of what went wrong and how to avoid doing it again, but that marathon is getting awfully close and I have not been running. Dr. Bradley walks into the rooms having done the math saying 4 weeks and 3 days until the race. We chatted a bit before he gave me an enthusiastic “well, you can try”.  We talked about training plans, then I left without plans to return if something else went wrong.  My plan is to test the knee first thing in the morning.

Friday 3/19/10

With good weather I cautiously set out for my most basic and probably favorite run, to tag the lighthouse. It’s a brief and pleasant course from my house, down to the cove and along Fort Ave. and Derby Street to Derby wharf, take a left at the Customs House, out the wharf to the light and back. All in about 3-1/4 miles. It felt great. The only remaining questions are; how durable is my knee? And how much endurance remains in my base? This time last year, I was training beyond 20 miles on my long runs.

Saturday 3/20/10

The plan calls for lots of rest, no run today, just some stretching.

Sunday 3/21/10

Pre-run

With only about a month left, I am a bit worried about endurance. My conundrum is that I need to get my mileage up very quickly knowing that increasing one’s mileage too quickly dramatically increases one’s chances of injury, or in my case, re-injury. I think the only thing to do is walk out the door and run as far as I can, then turn around and run home. I need to find out is how much of my base remains and then plan accordingly. The sun is shining and it’s warm enough, let’s go!  Not yet, the battery is dead on my stride sensor (the stride sensor talks to my HRM and watch to tell me how far and fast I am running). After three stops, I found a replacement battery at Radio Shack. The guy behind the counter tried to upsell me on wireless services.  Finally, about noon, I’m off.

Post run

About 14.1 miles later. It was really nice out, but chilly along the route, so I turned away from the coastal route and headed inland for a less picturesque but warmer path. My legs felt pretty durable and reasonably pain-free from the outset.  I ran the first handful of miles at a comfortable 9:30 pace but eventually found myself at about 10:30. The route took me out to Swampscott with a foot falls into Lynn before getting back into Salem and the long home stretch along Highland Ave / Essex Street. I could feel the fuel supply running short at about the 10 mile mark and by the time I got close to home, I was definitely running low. On the cardio side of things, my heart rate was pretty high for what used to be a nearly effortless pace. Clearly both cardio fitness and endurance have both degraded, but now I have my answer, I can manage 15 miles and should have no trouble stretching that to 20 by race day. Only 6.2m or 10k gap to close.  I am a bit sore but nothing unmanageable. Next weekend is the traditional 3 weeks before the race 20 miler on the race course. Should I do this? Stay tuned.

Atticus and Alexander

Atticus  and his younger brother Alexander. Yes that’s a boy, 100%! Alexander hasn’t let a pair of scissors near his hair since it grew back after the 3.5 long years of chemo. Apologies in advance to hapless restaurant servers who mistakenly lets a “her” or “she” slip when taking orders; Alexander is quick to demand correction regarding gender references. Like I said 100% boy.

-Mark

They won’t let me run yet and now that the sun is shining, I am getting quite antsy. Doc Bradley will make the call on the 18^th.  I am getting worried about not putting up miles. I suppose the trick will be to restart the running and get the mileage up fast without re-injuring my knee or any other essential body part. I did order some fancy new headphones in anticipation.

On the news front; we have a new URL – MecheMarathonBlog.com and we have some snappy new wristbands coming.

-Mark