Marathon play-by-play

I realize I really should have made myself sit down and write this the day after the marathon, but life kind of got in the way and I feel like I am non-stop busy these days. Oh well, better late than never! Here it is- the low down details of my 26.2 mile excursion!

I believe I wrote before about having to be in our hotel lobby by 5 AM. I still have no idea why that was- we basically sat around for about an hour and a half while all of us were getting antsy. Finally the A-team girls and I (we call ourselves that because during training, we were broken down into G-O-T-E-A-M groups- Group G was the fastest group, all the way down to M. So Team A wasn't the absolute slowest, but we were close.) Anyway, my girls and I finally had had enough by about 6:15 AM, and we decided to head out into the cold San Francisco morning and join the throngs of people assembling at the start line. It was quite chilly, but luckily I was very bundled up. When we were in the crowd, it wasn't too cold because of all the people around, so I probably could have done without my disposable $6 target sweat pants.

We were grouped by pace and the crowd was massive- stretching over and around entire city blocks. Finally, 7 AM rolled around and there was a big cheer- it was time to start! One of my biggest concerns was that there would be a slow start and it would take a long time for me to reach the start line, but this was very well organized and I crossed the start line at 7:12 AM, much less time than I thought it would take. We were off! To be honest, the first few miles are a bit of a blur. It was a little bit surreal and I was testing out my legs, seeing how the felt, since we had been tapering for 2 weeks and not doing as many miles as normal, I was concentrating on not going out to fast and just warming up. My fancy GPS watch was going a little nuts for the first mile through the tall buildings in San Francisco, so I was having a hard time telling exactly how fast we were going. I took off my sweatshirt and gloves sometime within the first mile and felt really good- it was really good weather for running. We headed down toward the water and hit the Embarcadero at mile 1. Sometime between mile 1 and mile 2, we paused briefly so I could take off my sweatpants and others could shed clothing as well. The first 3 miles looked like the dressing room at Old Navy- clothing strewn everywhere. Apparently this is a regular occurrence for marathons- people wear disposable clothing and folks from charities come and pick up the leftovers from the side of the race. We were making great time over the first few miles, plus, starting earlier than I thought we would start, we hit the mile 3 "Family Cheer Station" before 7:50, much earlier than I was expecting us to get there. Pat and I had spent a lot of time Saturday night deliberating on where he should try and go to watch, how he should get there, etc., and we decided that he would take the Nike provided shuttle to the first "Family Cheer Spot" located at mile 3. That shuttle didn't leave the start line until 7:30, and he didn't arrive until after we'd long since passed, so he missed the first stop. I was feeling fine, though, mile 3 had the first slight incline (although nothing like what was waiting further down the road,) and we all continued to feel great, taking in the sights of fisherman's wharf and north beach.

From there we headed along the marina. I will state for the record that parts of San Francisco don't smell so hot- more on that later. The marina was particularly pungent. It was early and we were all very excited to be running, though, so even the fishy smell didn't really get me down. Miles 3-5 took us through a stretch of pretty flat running through the Marina, and then we got to the Presido and our first glimpse of the Golden Gate Bridge, and also the first of the bigger San Francisco hills.

Mile 6 was pretty much all up hill. And none of the San Vicente, gradual uphill for a mile action, this was one big, steep hill. We decided before we started the race that we would walk the 3 big hills at mile 6, 9, and 11, and none of us had a problem slowing down and taking this one bit by bit. That hill was actually kind of fun- we were taking it at a really manageable pace, and the scenery was beautiful. The Presidio used to be an Army post, and there is some gorgeous officer housing we got to run past. Also got great views of Golden Gate Park.

Once we finally made it up to the top of the mile 6 hill, Mile 7 was a nice little change- it was mostly down hill, and we made good time. I'm pretty sure that this downhill section is where I saw Sarah Reinertsen, who I was first introduced to on The Amazing Race a few years ago, and who is an amazing athlete, who happens to be an above-the-knee amputee. I'm not too proud to admit that I yelled "I loved you on Amazing Race" as we passed her, and she said "Thanks! I hope you have an Amazing Race today!" I wonder how many times she yells that during any given race. Anyway, it was enough to give me a little kick in the pants- there she is on one leg, moving along like running a marathon is the easiest thing in the world.

Most of mile 8 & 9 were uphill again. We wound through some beautiful neighborhoods of big, expensive homes, and somewhere in there was the "Kaiser Permanente Orange Mile" where they handed out orange wedges to everyone. All I could think about was how we were running past these multi million dollar homes whose yards were COVERED in half-eaten oranges. Gross.

From mile 9.5 to about 11 were the biggest downhill portions of the race. We came out of the neighborhood and decreased about 300 feet of elevation in that 1.5 mile section, and I was starting to feel the race about then. Going downhill uses totally different muscles than going up hill, and although I was still feeling great at that point, I had a premonition on that downhill chunk that if I was starting to feel it right then, only 10 miles in, the next 16 might be a little rough. We made it downhill on our first little run on the Great Highway, and turned the corner at mile 11 into Golden Gate Park.

It was here at mile 11 that we said goodbye to dear Angela, one of my favorite running partners all season. Angela was running the Nike 1/2 Marathon, but had been training for the full marathon with us all season because NEXT weekend (November 4,) she runs the New York Marathon! Good Luck Angela! We stopped at the porta-potties at mile 11 and it is a miracle that I didn't ralph. It was touch and go, but I pushed through, and we were on our way again!

Mile 11.5-14 were uphill again, and somewhere around mile 11.5 Pat found me for the first time! He had made very cute signs and was a welcome sight. He took lots of photos, had a huge grin on his face, and ran about a mile with me, I think. He then looped around and found us again at mile 14 at the end of that downhill push. Miles 11.5 through 16 were a big loop around Golden Gate park, which was good because pat was able to find us a couple of times. Sometime around mile 13 our group started to get spread out and it was down to just Katy and I. Katy is awesome- she's mom to 2 beautiful girls, one of whom is in remission for Leukemia. She has been a huge support and encouragement all season, and I was happy to get to be doing this last, big run with her. We both started to get hungry for something more solid than the GUs we'd been eating, and kept hoping for a Luna moon stop, to no avail. by the time we saw Pat again at mile 14, we were both still doing well, but you could begin to see the tide turning, I think, and could see the "bite me zone" on the horizon. Pat took off via cab to meet us further down the line, and we continued on.

At mile 16, we made the turn onto the great highway, and this is where I think we fully entered into the bite me zone. From Miles 16-18.5 we ran parallel to the folks who were on mile 23.5-mile 26- folks who were close to finishing. While this was incredibly inspiring, it was also really depressing, because we knew we had quite a few miles and probably 2 more hours of running before we got to where they were, and we were really ready to be done running. Alas, that was not the case. And the folks on the sidelines, cheering us on, bless their hearts, but everything they said at that point was just wrong. People kept saying "You're almost there!" And it took EVERYTHING I had not to snap back, "Um, have you looked at a map?!? I have 10 FREAKING MILES LEFT." Not good. What sent Katy and I over the edge, though, was the 12th person who yelled out "Go KATHY!" Now, Katy's name might be a little easier if it was spelled Katie, but she is not the first person I know who spells her name Katy. And maybe from 10-20 feet away, it just looks like Kathy. But for some reason, at mile 17, when the 900th person of the day yelled "Go KATHY" we both just lost it. We were giggling hysterically and both cursing under our breath, which was pretty funny, and is how Pat found us next. He could tell the change in the mood of the group, and thankfully didn't say much. I think he realized that anything he said at that point would probably be wrong, so he just ran along for moral support. He did try to help me fix my water belt and wasn't moving quite fast enough for my liking at that point, and I'm afraid I might have snapped at him for it. I'm sorry Honey.

At mile 18.5, we made the turn to go around Lake Merced. Ah, Lake Merced. The bane of my existence. That is, without a doubt, my least favorite 5 miles ever. Hands down. It kind of smells bad, you're running against traffic for a time, I had significantly slowed down at that point and was really feeling it. It just was awful- everything they tell you about distance running and hitting the wall, happened around Lake Merced. There was a mile in there that I repeated "Chemotherapy is so much harder" over and over with every footstep. It lifted my spirits temporarily and I kept telling myself what a wimp I was- that folks with Leukemia and Lymphoma went through much worse, and that this pain was temporary- I would be better within a couple hours and those with blood cancers would trade places with me in an instant. On and on I trudged around Lake Merced, and it was tough.

The really great part, though? Somewhere around Lake Merced, I knew I was going to do it. I was going to become a Marathon finisher. I didn't feel a great flood of relief or a burst of speed, no, for me that realization was met with a crashing wave of reality that yes, I was going to be a finisher, but it wasn't going to be pretty and I was going to feel every single step of those last few miles. It was going to take everything I had left, including a few tears, to finish. And Katy, bless her heart, wasn't going to leave me. I was moving pretty slowly at this point- mile 22 was particularly bad, but she kept slowing down with me. I'm pretty sure she wasn't in quite as rough shape at that point as I was, but she was as determined that I finish as she was that she finish, and for that, I will be forever grateful. Because it feels nice to know that you are not alone at those low points. I don't think I was adequately conveying to her that I knew I was going to finish- either way, she wasn't going to leave me until she knew I was going to cross the finish line, too. At mile 23.5, Pat was waiting again, and Katy finally listened to me and picked up her pace and took off. I think she trusted Pat to keep me going to the finish.

I kind of broke down a little bit at mile 23.5. It was uphill again (although looking back, it was a pretty small hill, but at that point, that was all it took.) And I was just exhausted. We walked the hill, and I cried a little, but I kept going. I took off my water belt and Pat carried it. I also think that this was the point that I looked over and told Pat"I think this is quite possibly the worst idea I have ever had." (I also noticed then that Pat had spilled the contents of a full Gatorade bottle on his shorts, making it look suspiciously like he wet his pants. At the time, nothing could make me laugh, but later in the day the memory of him jogging along with a wet crotch area made me giggle instantly.) So off we went again towards the great highway, this time with me on the victory side of the road.

The last 3 miles were the hardest thing I have ever done. Knowing that I had to keep going for 3 more miles was a bit overwhelming at that point. Pat jogged along with me I think until mile 25, and then he ran ahead to get to the finish. I couldn't tell you much of what happened that last 1.2 miles. I just remember thinking "Even though this hurts, remember this feeling- you are doing something great." I remember the sound of the pacific ocean off to my left, and the clumps of spectators on both sides of the street, cheering me on. I remember seeing the mile 26 sign and thinking- this is it. This is that moment I have run the last 26 miles for, to get here, to be right here, in this moment. One of our coaches, Marissa, found me about then and jogged with me through the ever thickening rows of spectators. She'd been out there for hours and was still as excited as ever. I saw Pat, with the biggest grin I've ever seen on his face. (I hope I get a grin that large at our wedding when I walk down the aisle- this was a HUGE grin.) I started to cry, knowing that I was a finisher, the finish line was in sight, and I was going to cross it. My biggest fear over the last 6 months was that something would happen- I would get injured somehow and not be able to finish. That I would let all the folks down who had donated money to LLS in support of my marathon, and that I would let myself down. Well, in that moment, I was conquering that fear- I was doing something I never dreamed I would do- I was finishing!

I crossed the finish line and was met by tuxedo-clad firemen, handing out Tiffany boxes with our finishers necklaces, and then herded through another line of folks handing out bananas and Luna bars and then another set of folks were handing out Tee shirts. Unfortunately they were out of the tin-foil blankets they hand out as runners finish (I was pretty mad about that at the moment- for one I was cold and could have used it- I ended up putting on Pat's extra clothes, 2nd, I secretly had always wanted to be that chick walking around with the cool metallic blanket. Third- you know how many people are participating in the race- how hard is it to order that number of blankets?) Then Pat found me and gave me a huge hug, and we set out to find some food- I was REALLY hungry and ready for something non-gel to eat.

The rest of the afternoon, we vegged. I ordered a grilled cheese sandwich from room service and hung out in bed watching football, more sore than I had ever been in my life. But I couldn't wipe the grin off my face- I was a finisher.

I wasn't sore for that long- by Wednesday my legs were pretty much back to normal. And by Monday, as crazy as it sounds, I was already thinking that maybe I could do that again. If I could just do this, and next time I wouldn't do that, and maybe if I did a little more of this ahead of time...

Thank you for being a part of this crazy journey. For reading along and for the donations and the words of support and encouragement. Each one of you helped make it possible for me to cross the finish line- something I never imagined I would be able to do a year ago, and something I only half believed I could do 6 months ago. Thanks to those of you who donated early, so I knew I was committed and had to follow through. That sense of obligation helped get me out of bed at 6 in the morning every Sunday for 5 months, and helped me cross the finish line. Thanks to my cousin Ashley, to our family friend Bob, and to everyone else battling Leukemia or Lymphoma, for fighting harder on a daily basis than I did for those 6 hours. Yours is the race we must win, and I am grateful to have been a small part of the fight for a cure.

I haven't forgotten!

Life got very busy, but I PROMISE that I will post my marathon wrap-up by tomorrow at the latest! (I'm aiming for tonight.)

Stay tuned!

Pre Marathon

Ok- Tonight I'll recap the weekend events leading up to the marathon, and stay tuned for the play by play of the actual event. First I need to say a huge THANK YOU to Pat, who not only provided endless support to me during the race, but also provided an amusing play-by-play on the blog as I was running. Thanks sweetie!

I really can't believe it is over! 5 months of training and thinking about it, wondering if I could do it, and it all comes down to 6 hours on a chilly Sunday in San Francisco. I'm not going to lie- I was nervous. All I wanted to do was finish- I had so many people supporting me and cheering me on, so many people who had donated to LLS on my behalf- I didn't want to let anyone down. Mostly, though, I didn't want to let myself down- I KNEW I could do it, but so much of it was out of my control. I did the work, did the training, but who knows what kind of day you're going to have when it actually comes down to go time? All I wanted was a good day- the kind of day I had on our 21 mile run when I felt like I could run for days. But for the last week or so- while we've been tapering- I've had a little twinge in my left ankle and my left knee, so I've been a little nervous that I wasn't going to be able to get it done. I think that is the hardest part of the taper- I've been so used to running so consistently that when we started to taper, I didn't really know what to do with myself, and I wasn't running enough miles to test whether I was actually hurting, or if I was just imagining it. So I was nervous.

Pat and I got to San Francisco Friday evening and headed out to the Mission to have dinner with some friends of mine from A&M. Adrianne and I backpacked all over Europe together, and Abbie was my Martha's Vineyard buddy. I have shared adventures with both of them, and it was so great to catch up with them before I embarked on this next adventure. Abbie's awesome sister Aimee was also there, as was Abbie's man Steve. We had a great dinner and then hung out at Abbie's house- it was really good to catch up with old friends.

Saturday Pat and I got up and visited the Expo and picked up my race packet. It was a really fun atmosphere and made me feel like a serious athlete. Then we went in search of some Marathon swag- I wanted wearable proof that I had done the impossible. Unfortunately, Nike town was out of Smalls (which seems like a really bad purchasing decision on their part, given that this was a WOMEN'S marathon, and that, while this may be a gross generalization, I think it is safe to say that athletic women can tend to be smaller. First shot is the billboard on the side of NikeTown- it says "Congratulations to the 20,000 runners who raised $18 Million for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society!" The second is me with my race packet, the last is me with my name on the sign.


Saturday night, we had a pre-race Pasta Party to carb load. It was pretty amazing- 5,000 TNT runners, all there as part of the same great cause. We had some great speakers- Joan Benoit Samuelson, John Bingham from runner's world, and a woman who has beat Leukemia several times and run 2 marathons- quite an inspiration. First photo is the Westside Team, then Pat & I, then running buddy Kimberly & I.




The next morning arrived bright and early- 4:30 AM to be exact! I am not the biggest morning person, but I didn't sleep that well the night before, so I was awake and ready to just get things going. We had to be in the lobby of the hotel at 5 AM for a lot of hurry up and wait- the actual race didn't start until 7, so there was quite a bit of nervous anticipation. Here are some shots of the getting ready process. First- me not looking quite so bright and shiny at 4:30 AM. Second, the shot of my Jersey- why I'm running. Third, me all bundled up and headed out the door.



More to come soon!

The start...

more to come...

Thanks to Tony & Amy Galvez!

When Pat ran up to me at mile 18, he had all kinds of encouraging messages from friends and family, and he also let me know that I'd gotten an email notification that AMY & TONY GALVEZ had just made a donation in support of my marathon! I can't tell you what a boost that gave me- I needed that little reminder right about then as to why I was doing this whole thing. It puts things in such a great perspective when you remember that the pain associated with running a marathon is temporary, and even now, just a day later, I feel almost back to good. But those with Leukemia and Lymphoma don't have the luxury of brushing it off, or of quitting if it gets to hard. That helped keep me going.

So thank you, Amy & Tony, for that much needed dose of perspective when the going was getting tough. And thank you for your friendship- you are both amazing friends that I feel lucky to have in my life!

One note- more detailed post coming soon!

First off, thanks to Pat for mobile blogging on my behalf yesterday, and thanks to all of you for following along and sending comments- Pat would read them as they came in when he caught up to me, and it really did help- it was like a virtual crowd of supporters. Believe me- I needed it around mile 20. Things got tough- but I knew I had lots of folks cheering me on!

One small note- it did not take me 20 minutes to run that last mile. I did not do it super fast, but Pat didn't do that last "Amy's done" post until we were either in the tent after the race or back on the shuttle to the hotel- I can't remember. Either way, I wasn't QUITE that slow, although I was pretty slow at that point.

More to come (including photos!) tonight or tomorrow night, as soon as I get a chance!

Thanks again!

26.2

Ladies and gentlemen Amy Polk has finished the 2008 Nike Women's Marathon!

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Close

1 mile to go!

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3 Miles to Go!

Amy has 3 more miles. It is very tough at this point but she's toughing it out. I will write from the finish. -Pat

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Waiting

I'm waiting for Amy at mile 22.5, which is in the middle of a long gradual hill. After that it's flat to the end. She should be here in about 20 minutes.
-Pat

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Mile 18.5

I just left Amy and her teammates at mile 18.5. They are not having much fun at this point but they are keeping a good pace and the distance remaining is becoming more manageable. They have also made the time cutoffs so there's nothing left but to do it!

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Mile 14

I just left Amy about mile 14. She was appropriately tired for having run that far, but was hanging tough. I have been passing along everyone's messages. I just hopped a cab put to around mile 18. This NOT running thing is okay. If I get there early maybe I'll stop for a beer... -Pat

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Mile 12

I just ran a couple minutes with Amy and her teammates around mile 12. They are all in good spirits and don't have snot running down their faces or anything. They are finishing up the last of the hills and running a very smart race. More to follow... -pat

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Update

At mile 13 walking backwards so I don't miss Amy again. Me getting exercise was NOT part of the deal! -pat

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On the shuttle

I'm headed to the halfway point to try and catch up. So far Amy is quicker than the shuttles. -Pat

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Mile 4.5

I just got a phone call from mile 4.5 as I was waiting at mile 3! I got to 3 as fast as the shuttle would allow so I think this means Amy was able to start very close to 7 am which will help with the time cutoffs. So far so good. Hopefully by the next update I will have actually SEEN Amy! -pat

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Go Time!

I just left Amy at her pre-race team meeting area. I've never seen her get up so willingly at 4:30 AM so I think she's ready! I will update the blog throughout the race. Thanks for your support! -Pat

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San Fran Bound!

I just wanted to send a quick post that later this afternoon, Pat & I are headed to San Francisco to meet up with the rest of my TNT Team! Pat may try his hand at posting a thing or two to the blog as I'm running- If not, I'll be sure to post a little something on Sunday letting everyone know when I'm done running. Wish me luck and say a prayer or two, please!

THANKS TO KELLY ELLIS!

Big thanks to my New West coworker, KELLY ELLIS! Kelly has been around for the whole Amy Running journey, right from the start. Kelly has been super supportive the whole way, and I really appreciate her donation! Thanks, Kelly!

Week 21: In the Home Stretch!

First off, I have been an inconsistent blogger lately, and I apologize to the 3 of you who check this regularly. Things have been a little busy around here- first and foremost- Pat got back from Iraq last Tuesday! It is such a joy and relief to have him home, but I don't want to get into too much detail about that here. After Sunday, I'll let you know what a deployment more closely resembles- TRAINING for a marathon or actually running it. I still suspect that it is the former.

I also had a minor set back with my training- as reported earlier, I was feeling great after the 21 mile run two weeks ago- I was on top of the world! Then I woke up that next morning and had the same pain in my foot that I had a few weeks ago, only this time it was in the left foot. I didn't think a lot of it as I seemed to recover in about a week the first time, so I tried to stay off of it (although I didn't do as good of a job this go-round,) and iced it, etc. This time it didn't get better as quickly, though, and I actually missed our 12 mile training run for week 20. Luckily it finally started to feel better by early last week, and now I'm back in the game and pain free! Oh, and I completed week 21's 8 mile training run with no problems, AND I saw Ryan Reynolds (see post below) at mile 6! We yelled all kinds of encouraging phrases at him and told him that he would be fine in his marathon, and gave him the anti-nipple bleeding tips we've read. I think he thought we were crazy.

Here we are now in the home stretch- the marathon is just DAYS away, and I am still somewhat amazed that I am going to run a marathon. I AM GOING TO RUN A FREAKING MARATHON! If you had told me a year ago that I'd be headed to San Francisco on October 19, 2008 to run 26.2 miles, I would have laughed at you, and then sat down on the couch to watch TV while eating a bag of potato chips. No lie. But here I am- living proof that anyone can do it. I watched Spirit Of The Marathon this weekend, and I would recommend it to anyone thinking about attempting one of their own- it goes to show that anyone can do it. There is a 70 year old guy in the movie that started running the Chicago Marathon 5 years ago and runs it every year... amazing.

I don't think I would have been able to do this on my own- no way. Team In Training is a remarkable organization, not only in the training and support that they have provided me, but for the hundreds of thousands of dollars that they raise for Leukemia and Lymphoma research and treatment. At this point, I have raised $5,625, which is nothing to sneeze at, but my Westside Los Angeles team has raised- get this- OVER $257,812 as a team! A quarter of a million dollars- imagine what that money can do. It's a whole research grant, it is patient aid and education. It's pretty cool. My team consisted of 81 folks fundraising, which averages out to about $3,200 per person. Now- an even more impressive figure? There are 7,000 TNT participants running in the Nike Women's Marathon this Sunday! If each one raised even $1000 less than the $3,200 per person our team raised (and I am estimating low- I imagine the figure is actually higher,) That is over $15 MILLION dollars raised! How amazing and awe-inspiring is that?

At the end of the day- at mile 24, when my feet just don't feel like they can go any further, that is what is going to get me through. That so many of you believed in me enough (even when I didn't believe in myself) and care about this cause, and you reached into your wallets and helped us make a difference. I have no illusions- I know that Sunday will be hard. But I don't think it even begins to compare to the chemotherapy or radiation or any of the other tough stuff that folks battling blood cancers go through every day. I am running on Sunday for my cousin Ashley, and I will think of her and the folks like her when the going gets tough, and I will know that I can keep going, because I can. And I know that any one of them would choose a marathon over chemotherapy any day of the week. This is the least that I can do, even if it is more than I ever thought that I could do.

Please say a little prayer for me between 7 AM and 1 PM PST on Sunday as I will be slogging it out on the streets of San Francisco and I'm sure I will need all the help I can get. I heard rumors that there was a website folks could go to and enter your bib number to track your progress as you go- if that is in fact true, I will post that info here. I'll send an update once I'm done on Sunday when (God willing,) I am a Marathon finisher, and will post photos later next week!

Thanks again for everything- I can't believe it is here!

Thanks to AMY TROENDLY!

Thanks to my dear friend, AMY TROENDLY, who's name I seem to consistently misspell, along with the name of her awesome fiance, Andrew Buck. I'm not sure what my problem is- where the mental block comes in- but it happens on a regular basis. I'm pretty sure I have it correct here, but It wouldn't surprise me if I got it wrong again. That should be no indication of how cool I think they both are, or how much I value both of them and their friendship! Amy was one of my HOB girls, and I always look forward to our reunion dinners. Thanks, Amy!

Hopefully neither Ryan nor I will vomit or bleed at the end!

I read this yesterday and thought it was worth sharing- from actor Ryan Reynolds.

Why I'm Running the New York City Marathon
by Ryan Reynolds

A couple of years ago, I walked uptown to Central Park on one of those perfect November days. The air had a bite to it while the sun shone bright. It was the day of the New York Marathon and I thought it might be fun to watch the runners nearing the finish line. So, I joined the crowd about a half-mile before the race's end at Tavern On The Green. With my arms resting on the cold cordon, I saw an incredible spectacle of people pushed to the very brink of collapse. I expected exhaustion, but what I didn't expect was to see just how much these runners had to EARN their prize. It was emotional. The pain was etched into their faces so deeply, you'd swear they'd spend the next 3 weeks looking like Abe Vigoda. I saw guys coming in to finish with bleeding nipples. Why in the hell were their nipples bleeding? People were crying. People were limping, hobbling, screaming, crawling. But most importantly, people were experiencing a sublime rapture that I couldn't even hope to understand. They were touching something magical no stalk-still mortal simply watching the race could comprehend. These people had accomplished something real. At that moment, with all the energy, inspiration and passion swirling through the crisp autumnal air, I breathed in deeply and decided something: I'd never fucking do that ever, ever. What in the fuck were these idiots thinking? Bleeding nipples. Bleeding. Nipples.

Two years later, by some tragic backwards prophecy, I find myself signed up to run in the New York City Marathon. Every other day I train. I run like a bastard all morning. Not since the discovery of Junior High School has a torture been so effective. Why on earth would I willfully do this? On behalf of my Father, Jim Reynolds, who's spent the last 15 years in a life or death struggle with Parkinson's Disease.

Let it be known at the outset, I am not a runner. I am a running joke. Waking up at 4:30 am and jogging anywhere from 11 to 23 miles has been nothing short of horrifying. Although, I've never given birth to a professional basketball player through one of my tear ducts, I can't imagine a worse way to start the day. Conversely, some people have real problems. I digress...

A year and a half ago, I had the privilege of meeting Mr. Michael J. Fox. Like so many before me, I found it impossible not to be touched by his story of overwhelming strength, passion and relentless commitment to help those afflicted with this insidious disease. The man is inspiration exemplified. Plus, he was in Back To The Future. Which was, well, awesome. In a moment of extremely poor judgment, I offered to do something big for him--I offered to compete in the New York City Marathon. Which was, well... dumb.

While I'll probably never fully understand Michael's struggle, I've had a first hand peek behind the curtain of Parkinson's. I've watched my father -- a strong and proud person who successfully raised 4 arguably insane children - slowly, cruely stripped of his independence. His golden years robbed without explanation. It quite obviously sucks. Witnessing my Dad suffer over the years galvanized my need to step up. On November 2nd, I'll join thousands of other men and women to march in lockstep solidarity toward searing psychic pain and physical humilation.

One of the reasons I chose RUNNING specifically, was because (as Murakami so eloquently put it) my competition is the most formidable foe of all; ME. The person I have to beat is the guy I was last week. The person I was yesterday. Indescribably worse, those affected by Parkinson's wage a similar war in their own bodies every single day. Unlike a marathon, their struggle won't end in a shallow pool of vomit just outside Tavern On The Green while waiting for an ambulance. They continue day in and day out, silently battling away in the most personal of struggles.

Yes. I'm asking for a donation. I don't do this with any degree of levity. I know we're in rough times and there are literally millions of causes worthy of your hard earned cash. It's my hope the story of my father combined with my own goal of becoming the first person in history to sob uncontrollably for 26.2 miles straight, may inspire you to give something too.

Please know that NO DONATION IS TOO SMALL - and certainly, no donation is too large. And If you don't give anything at all, maybe I've primed you for a future donation in someone else's name. For someone else's cause.

If you visit the site below, you'll be directed to my page on the Team Fox Website. Michael's foundation has raised over 100 million dollars in the fight against PD. On my page you can leave a personal note of support or mockery along with your donation.

In the end, no matter how much I mythologize this run, no matter how much I choose to romanticize this campaign against my own will, lungs and ambition... there's always going to be that guy who finished the marathon on a pair of prosthetic legs. And there'll always be my Dad. And Michael. And Millions of others who bounce back off the ropes against all odds. So, I promise I won't congratulate myself too much.

Finally, if you happen to be in New York on November 2nd, come down and watch. Feel free to bring a smile, automated defibrillator, or a fresh set of nipples.

Click here for my Team Fox page

On behalf of Me, my Father, and everyone struggling with Parkinson's, our endless gratitude.

Thanks to the Vescovos!

Just wanted to send a thank you to my dear friends, the VESCOVO FAMILY! Brooke is one of my best friends, and I think, knowing me so well, she had a few doubts on my marathon aspirations. I distinctly remember a time in college when Brooke made it her goal to get me off the couch to go for a run. I think I made it a quarter of a mile when I decided- Nope, I'm done. But I'm glad to have made it to the end of this training and am so thankful for her support for over a decade. Thanks Brooke, Peter and Peej (Peter Jr.)!