Julia Does Boston

Team Lung Love Recap

2011-03-04T19:24:00.000-08:00

It's been such a tremendously busy year for me both personally and professionally that I have been terrible at keeping up with this blog. That's a good thing really, because things personal and professional have been wonderful.

In the "professional" arena, I got a new job! So now I have to change my profile from "writes about saving money" to "writes ad copy for mega galactic brands."

I LOVE my new job. It's at this super creative ad agency in Boston where I work with a slew of tremendously talented people. And kind people. They're nice to each other because they're treated well and are happy. When I first started, they apologized for being "crazed" and "stressed" but their level of craziness was so zen-like, I was happy to relax into their universe.

I'm learning a lot because its a slightly different take on what I normally do, but that's actually one of the best things about the job. I've been writing my entire professional life - since I was 20 years old - and I think if I never changed, I'd be terribly bored. So I welcome the challenge!

In my personal life, which primarily consists of lung cancer advocacy, things are also FANTASTIC. After the launch of Team Lung Love last May in Providence, we have now done THREE marathons and raised over $150,000. Not bad for a first year of a pilot program with a skeleton staff.

The video above is a slideshow of our Philly Team. It shows the people we ran for and our teammates...

This year, we are doing 3 more events - Providence in May, Marine Corps (DC)in October and Philly in November.

Everyone who joins the team seems transformed by it - by the simple act of reaching out to others to try to help change this disease and then crossing that finish line.

Running marathons to raise money for a cause isn't a new idea. But seeing people with the words "lung cancer" on their t-shirts is.

It's breathtaking to watch and I have been so proud of the ordinary people - all of them personally touched by the disease - who have accepted the challenge of Team Lung Love.

Do you want to accept the challenge?

Visit www.teamlunglove.org.

Team Lung Love!

2010-01-08T08:29:00.000-08:00

When my mom was diagnosed with lung cancer and I learned about the shockingly low survival rates, the outrageously low funding for research, the seemingly inpenetrable stigma - I knew I HAD to do something.

I'd been running marathons with Team in Training, an endurance training program run by the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, for years. They have a phenomenal program, and have raised over $100 million for LLS.

Lymphoma, as it happens, is one of the most curable cancers. Lung cancer is not. I thought, why can't lung cancer have something like Team in Training?

That was my dream, and now - two years after losing my mother to this awful disease, my dream has become a reality with Team Lung Love!

I've joined forces with the Lung Cancer Alliance and we've created the first ever endurance training program for LCA - with the inaugural team training to run and walk the full and half marathon on May 2nd in Providence Rhode Island.

So far, we've got a great group people who've committed to join the team - and we just opened our website to registration! But we need more!

Would you like to join us? Go to http://teamlunglove.kintera.org to learn more and sign up!

Help us save lives. Help us change hearts and minds. Get INSPIRED with us.

Join our team!

Two Years

2009-12-09T13:17:00.001-08:00

Yesterday was the two-year anniversary of my mom’s death. Two years is a weird number. My loss is no longer an infant, weak and helpless; but it’s certainly not full-grown. It’s small enough that I can still hold it in my arms. It still needs my nurturing and attention. It probably always will. It's not ready to be left entirely on its own.

I remember when we first heard the words “lung cancer” and the idea that my mother might have the disease. It seemed impossible. Like someone had said she might have elephantitis. What? Who gets lung cancer? Certainly not my healthy mother.

More than anything, it was terrifying. I couldn’t imagine life without my mom. I mean, I literally couldn’t imagine it. I’d gone 33 years with her by my side – it was like trying to imagine life without legs and no possibility of crutches. All I felt was sheer terror.

It’s hard for me to speak for her – you can’t ever truly know what someone else is feeling when they’ve been diagnosed with cancer – but I think she also felt sheer terror - a different kind of terror.

Our terror clamped on like a steel rod and pushed us forward. Early on, though, her rod became unbolted; first with the stroke and then with the myriad of other complications that ravaged her body.

At times, I felt like I had to hold us both up, but that was just an illusion. Even though she was weak, and even when she couldn't speak, she was still Mom until the very end. I still had her until she took her very last breath.

The terror I felt during the initial diagnosis was fear of how I could cope without her - but also fear of whether I would forget her. So much of a person is how we perceive them. If we stop perceiving them, is that when they cease to exist?

When she took her last breath and she no longer had life, it was as if someone had turned off the electricity. Once she was no longer the vessel for so much energy, life and light, she was merely a vehicle, a body, a box.

But even though my mother was physically gone,she most definitely has not ceased to exist. Although I can't see her, touch her, smell her or hold her, she's been there for me every step of the way.

When I decided to move back to Boston and had to sell her house, it sold in a week. When I found the neighborhood I wanted to live in, her oldest friend's daughter knew someone selling a condo. When I looked for a job during the beginning of an economic downturn, I got one within weeks and it opened a lot of interesting doors - doors she would have loved.

The night before she died, I met someone who's been a source of strength and support; a patient, loving man who makes me laugh and even reminds me of her sometimes in certain ways.

I can't see her, touch her, feel her or smell her - and as anyone who's read this blog knows, I basically channel my grief into advocacy. But sometimes, out of nowhere, it hits me and I miss her so much. Sometimes, there's no one else who'd have the right words to say- no one else who'll love me unconditionally, no one else who's just like her.

But she's still there, right by my side. My grief hasn't grown up so much that it no longer needs her and she hasn't left me yet.

I still see her in so many different and unexpected ways, and yesterday was no exception.

I recently befriended a young woman through an online lung cancer support group. Her mother is only 46 years old and has advanced lung cancer. Like my mom, she has blood clots and has had some strokes.

Her daughter wrote to me and said that their oncologist had given up on her mother and that they felt hopeless. I suggested that she see my mother's doctor for a second opinion because she's one of the leading researchers into cutting edge therapies involving genetic testing of tumor mutations.

There was no guarantee that she could do something, but it was worth a shot. Better than being told your 46 year-old mother is a lost cause.

Yesterday, I got this email from the young woman:

"Dear Julia,

We went to see Dr. Sequist yesterday and we loved her! They are seeing if there is enough tissue from my mom's September biopsy to do the genetic testing, if not they will be calling her in for another biopsy next week and then we'll take it from there. If she doesn't have one of the mutations Dr. Sequist recommends Alimta as the next chemo to try.

Thank you so much!"

Her mother's first appointment with my mother's doctor was two years to the day after my mother's death.

Call me crazy, but I don't think that's a co-incidence. I'm sure that my mother is somehow part of this new journey, just as I feel her as a part of my journey and the advocacy I do. She's welcoming this new patient that I directed to her old doctor, hoping for better results for this daughter's mother two years later.

I miss you, mom. You will never, ever be forgotten. I am so glad that you are still here, that I still feel you and see you in so many miracles.

Love,
Julia

The Day We Stormed Capitol Hill

2009-11-25T07:12:00.000-08:00

I can't believe it's taken so long for me to recap our incredible trip to DC, but that's life in the big (and busy) city!

For those of you who are thinking "What incredible trip to DC??", here's some background: I do advocacy work with the Lung Cancer Alliance, and what they do best is legislative advocacy. They work tirelessly to try and get more federal research dollars allocated towards lung cancer research. Currently, federal research funds are disproportionately directed at OTHER cancers and not lung cancer, the biggest cancer killer.

LCA invited me and my mom's sisters to travel to Washington DC in order to meet with our Congresspeople in person. Our aim was to try and convince them of the INCREDIBLE importance of co-signing onto the Lung Cancer Mortality Reduction Act, a bill that asks Congress to work together with other governmental agencies to come up with a plan - SOME kind of plan - to address lung cancer's dreadfully low survival rates - which have been stuck at less than 16% for over 40 years.

My aunts and I were part of the Massachusetts contingent,eight advocates strong who were all fired up to march up to Capitol Hill and talk turkey with our members of congress. Or something like that.

Day one, we attended a training session for those of us who'd never done this kind of face-to-face meeting before. It was led by the dynamic, compassionate and incredibly articulate Laurie Fenton, the President and CEO of Lung Cancer Alliance.

Laurie spoke to about 50 advocates assembled from states across the country, including California, Connecticut, Kentucky, North Carolina, Georgia and Washington. We heard from lung cancer survivors as young as 23 and as old as 73. We heard emotional stories from family members like me who came because they lost someone and feel like they have to do something.

That night, we got a special treat. We attended an ice skating show called Kaleidoscope at the Verizon Arena, a celebration of skating and cancer survivorship. The headliners included cancer survivors Scott Hamilton and Dorothy Hamil, as well as Olivia Newton-John.

It was thrilling for The Lung Cancer Alliance to be included among so many fantastic advocacy groups, all working to raise awareness of the different cancers. The show will be broadcast tomorrow - on Thanksgiving Day - at around 4pm on FOX- after the football game.

Day two was "showtime." We got dressed in our best Capitol Hill outfits, powered up with the free breakfast at the Embassy Suites, and met with our fellow advocates to come up with a game plan.

Since there were eight of us, we broke into two "teams" in order to make our way through the list of Representatives and Senators from Massachusetts. My team only had one actual appointment - that was with my Aunt Susan's Rep, Niki Tsongas. The rest we were just planning to ambush. Well, to call upon, unannounced.

We weren't sure what to expect. We'd been told that it was unlikely that we'd actually meet with any of the Congresspeople themselves - and we'd be lucky if their aides would even agree to see us without an appointment. Undeterred, we went ahead anyway. We thought, "We've come all the way here - it's worth a shot!"

Our first stop was actually to a Connecticut Rep because our friend Kevin Brummett was from Connecticut. Kevin lost his battle with lung cancer this spring and his widow Stephanie was with us. She wanted to pay Kevin's Congressman a visit. He wasn't in, but she left a personal note and we felt good about touching base there.

As we left the CT office, my Aunt Susan noticed offices for a South Carolina Congressman. She owns a condo down there, so we popped in to say hello. He wasn't in, but we left info and moved on.

Door number three was Representative McGovern, who covers areas including Worcester and Hopkinton. We had a connection to one of his constituents in Holliston and miraculously enough, McGovern was in his office and agreed to see us.

We had only gotten a few sentences into our "pitch" when he said "Count me in. I'll sign it." We were floored. Stephanie walked right up to his desk and thanked him,tearfully, sharing her story about how her 31-year old never-smoking husband lost his battle with lung cancer. He seemed genuinely moved - and sure enough, the next day, he signed on!

Next was Congressman Lynch, who represents South Boston, among other towns. He wasn't in, but his aide was, and she agreed to hear our stories. She shared with us that she'd lost her grandmother to lung cancer. This is what happens so often when you start talking about lung cancer. Lung cancer touches so many people, you're bound to meet someone who's been affected. This obviously wouldn't sway Rep. Lynch's decision, but it helps us talk to his aide when she has a personal connection. She gets it, even without us telling our stories. Of course we did anyway and shared with her all of the shocking statistics - and when we left the office, she promised to share our information with the Congressman and encourage him to consider co-signing legislation.

After that was MY Rep, Michael Capuano who represents most of Boston including my district in Charlestown. We knew he wouldn't be in because he's currently running for Ted Kennedy's seat in the US Senate and the election is just weeks away. We'd tried to get an appointment with him beforehand since two of us are constituents, but no luck. So, we showed up anyway. His very nice aide Jared chatted with us for a while, and then we got a chance to meet with his legislative aide who was very sympathetic and compassionate. I've since emailed the Congressman, so I hope we'll have his support!

Next it was time for a coffee break! We headed to the cafeteria in the basement which was actually kind of exciting. Congressmen and women have to eat, right? We weren't sure who we'd see, and we didn't really see anyone we knew, but it was nice to take a break and power up with some coffee and cookies.

Niki Tsongas was our next stop. We had an appointment with her health aide, and we'd heard that Niki herself might make an appearance. Her health aide was wonderful. Not only did she listen compassionately, she asked a lot of questions - great questions - which made us realize that she was seriously considering this bill.

She seemed shocked at the statistics and deeply moved by our plea. We were deep in discussion, when in walked Congresswoman Tsongas. She was very gracious and also listened intently to our stories, the statistics and the explanation of the bill.

She shared that she had actually lost her mother to lung cancer, which we hadn't known until then. Before we left, she said that the bill sounded like something she would sign, but that her team just had to review it first. Our fingers are crossed.

Feeling empowered, we went onto our next unscheduled stop - Congressman Olver, who represents the western part of the state. We met with his health aide and told her about Sara Monopoli, the sister of one of Congressman Olver's constituents. Sara lost her life at 34 to the disease - just 9 months after giving birth to her only child. His aide was incredibly compassionate and shared that she, too, had lost several members of her family to lung cancer. She said "I can't see why he wouldn't sign this bill"- and the next day, he had signed it!

On a roll, we headed down to Congressman Delahunt's office. He represents the Cape and the South Shore. I've heard he's a nice guy - and his aides were very sweet - but they were firm that without an appointment, we couldn't talk to anyone. This was the first and only time that we ran into this kind of stumbling block, so it didn't really faze us. We figured we'd talked to enough people in one day! We left our info and moved on.

We left Capitol Hill feeling elated. It was such an invigorating feeling to know that we'd spoken with people who can actually affect change. As Laurie Fenton had told us, this was "pick and shovel work" - asking Congresspeople to co-sign onto a bill, one member at a time, just for the hope that we can get it to the next step.

Pick and shovel work. Not totally glamorous. Nothing that happens overnight. But necessary work. Important work. Inspiring and invigorating work.

One legislator at a time, we'll get through to them until we've got everyone from Massachusetts - and with the work of LCA, hopefully we'll get most of the US Congress to sign on. Then, hopefully it will get it into hearings - and eventually passed as a bill so that we can finally start to see a difference in those devastating mortality rates.

Before our trip, only one Congressman from Massachusetts had signed on: Barney Frank.

After our trip, this is where we stand today: One senator from Massachusetts (Kirk) and five Congressmen (Neal, Olver, McGovern, Tierney and Frank) have all signed on.

We're still working on Capuano, Delahunt, Tsongas, Markey and Lynch. How amazing would it be if Massachusetts was the first state in the union to have all of its congresspeople sign on? It would certainly show that this state cares about lung cancer. Being one of the regions with the most exciting and innovative lung cancer research, it would make a lot of sense.

Congressmen and women, are you reading? Could you sign on?

Even if you're not a Congressperson - but you'd like to see them sign on - you can do some "pick and shovel" work yourself. Go to this site and you'll learn how to find out the email address of your Congressperson and how you can email your representative. If your rep is one of the people who co-signed, please email them to say thank you. If your rep hasn't yet signed - email him or her and tell him why it's so important to get their support. It's so crucial that our members of Congress hear from us. They listen to their constituents, so please send them a note!

And if you're not from Massachusetts, you can use that link to contact your member of Congress too.

Together, we can make a difference.

We Can't Forget The Ones We Lose

2009-11-14T11:13:00.001-08:00

I went to an American Lung Association event last night called "An Evening in Paris" that really blew me away - in a good way. Because of the American Lung Association's history of ignoring lung cancer, I wasn't expecting to be so moved - but I was - particularly by one of the honorees.

The event was a fundraiser, but also an opportunity to honor scientists and doctors for their groundbreaking lung cancer research. As we all know, the only way that we are going to reduce the staggering mortality rates from lung cancer is from new research.

One of the doctors honored was a female cardio-thoracic surgeon from Brigham & Women's hospital - one of the few women in the world with that particular job; another was a researcher who's working on a way to determine whether or not suspicious nodules caught on CT scans are cancerous or not - which would help to further an early detection protocol.

Those researchers were inspiring, but the person who moved me the most was the doctor honored for her work with palliative care and lung cancer. Her name is Dr. Jennifer Temel, and she's one of the doctors on the front lines, dealing with real patients who die every day. I've met her several times before - the first time was two years ago when she was covering the weekend shift, filling in for my mom's doctor at MGH. She stopped in while she was "on call" and we learned that she's also my mom's neighbor's lung cancer doctor. This disease touches many, near and far.

Dr. Temel reminded us all that while we ARE making advances, the reality is that over 150,000 Americans will still die this year from lung cancer. We cannot forget the vast majority of patients for whom there is no cure and their families who are left behind to mourn.

Even at MGH, where Dr. Temel works and where they test every tumor for genetic mutations, the reality is that only a handful of people will be eligible for the latest personalized medicines based on those genetic tests. As much as she and her colleagues want new treatments to be available for everyone right now - the reality is that they aren't - and they won't be - for a while.

Palliative care is always a difficult topic to address, and it was brave of her to bring it up in a room that was all about research, hope and fundraising for a cure, but what she said is that we still need to work on helping people at the end stage of their disease. We need to help people when they die.

Sadly, the majority of lung cancer patients are diagnosed at a late stage, and for them, death is an inevitable part of their journey. As such, they should be able to leave this earth with as much dignity and as little suffering as possible.

My mom was one of those patients. Tumor testing wasn't available when my mother was at MGH and even if it had been, as a former smoker and with squamous cell NSCLC, there weren't (and still aren't) a lot of options open to patients like her. The only option for her at the time (and at one of the best hospitals in the world) was platinum-based chemotherapy - and in her case, even that wasn't an option because she got so sick so fast. My mom's case was unusually aggressive, but what wasn't (and still isn't) unusual about her case is that she was treated palliatively instead of curatively. In late stage lung cancer, all that can sometimes be done is palliative care because there simply aren't enough treatments for late stage lung cancer. Until those treatments are available, we have to treat every patient - including the ones who are going to die.

So I am so grateful to Dr. Temel and to all of the other thoracic oncologists who deal with real patients every day - real patients who die because those other options aren't available for everyone yet. I thank them for continuing to come to work every day no matter what and for continuing to do research when they're not doing their clinical work. I thank them for continuing to solider on, even when they must get discouraged in the face of so much death and tragedy.

If we all work together, someday there will be less palliative care and more curative care for lung cancer. We're not there yet - so we can't forget the ones who are left behind in the wake of all of the exciting research that we celebrate. We can't forget the ones who won't see a benefit from the research in their lifetime.

I am so glad that doctors like Dr. Temel are not forgetting those who are left behind. I am forever grateful.

Shine a Light on Lung Cancer - Boston '09

2009-11-11T13:01:00.001-08:00

Just thought I’d share about our event in Boston last week. It was incredible!

Over 400 people packed into the Prudential Center in Boston to honor loved ones and learn about lung cancer.

Five of Boston's major cancer centers were represented, all at tables lined up next to each other including Dana Farber, Mass General Hospital, Beth Israel, Brigham & Women and Boston Medical Center.

Several lung cancer advocacy groups were at tables as well including the National Lung CancerPartnership, Lungevity, Uniting Against Lung Cancer and Upstaging Lung Cancer.

It was so phenomenal to see all of these hospitals and advocacy groups standing side by side, offering the community so much hope about lung cancer advocacy and research.

Our local ABC news anchor, Heather Unruh, whose mother is a lung cancer survivor, was an eloquent emcee, setting a tone of hope for the evening.

Our Senate President, Terese Murray, pledged to support lung cancer research and shared her personal connection with lung cancer – her best friend was diagnosed a year ago. She then read the state proclamation declaring November Lung Cancer Awareness Month.

People who were just walking by stopped to hear the speakers because they had been affected by lung cancer. One woman had lost her mother the day before the vigil, but she saw one of our signs and decided she had to come.

We had 6 speakers who shared their personal stories including Linnea Duff, a never-smoker diagnosed in her early 40’s at a late stage and who is currently 18 months into a clinical trial at MGH for her ALK-4 mutation and doing incredibly well;

Other speakers included Deidre Malloy, a 7 year, Stage IIIB NSCLC survivor, Rich Monopoli, who lost his wife Sara Thomas Monopoli less than two years ago when she was only 35 and had just given birth to their only child; Stephanie Fellingham Brumett, the wife of Kevin Brumett who was an incredible advocate and spoke out whenever he could until he succumbed to his disease last May at the age of 31.

And finally, Diane Legg, the Co-chair of Lung Cancer Alliance-Massachusetts shared her story of survival and hope as a 5-year lung cancer survivor and mother to 3 young boys.

We read out loud the names of 400 lung cancer survivors as well as those we lost to this disease, like my mother.

There were many tears shed - but also so much hope in the room as we heard from some of Boston's top doctors speak of the incredible research that's being done to help find personalized treatments for lung cancer.

It was a phenomenal way to start Lung Cancer Awareness Month in Massachusetts.

Congratulations to everyone who is doing something fabulous for lung cancer awareness month, from incredible fundraising to much-needed awareness-building and media exposure. We're not sitting back and letting lung cancer be ignored. We’re all making BIG noise about this disease.

Every little thing we do takes us closer to a cure. We ARE the lung cancer movement - and we're moving!

My appearance on MYFOXDC!

2009-09-22T09:17:00.000-07:00

My appearance on WPIX-TV in NYC!

2009-09-07T12:54:00.000-07:00

Last week, I was THRILLED to appear on WPIX-TV's morning show in NYC to talk about my "Ten Things You Should Never Pay Full Price For."
It was a whirlwind and a total blast - and I'll be doing it again next week in DC on the Fox Morning News show.
Check out my New York appearance here:

Nantucket Fundraiser for Lung Cancer

2009-08-06T12:11:00.000-07:00

Meryl Bralower, a fabulous and dynamic woman that I know from Boston-area lung cancer advocacy work has put together a terrific fundraiser for Lung Cancer. It's a staged reading of the book "The Hot Flash Club", written by Nancy Thayer.

They had a staged reading of this book on the island back in June and it was apparently a sell-out!

If you like Nantucket and want to support a good cause, come join us! Plus, it's midweek so there are reasonable B&B rates. I found some pretty good deals at The Century House and The Sherbourne Inn, for a start.

Here are the event details:

Host: Meryl Bralower

Location:
The Chicken Box
16 Dave St
Nantucket, MA 02554 US

When:
Wednesday, August 26, 6:00PM to 8:00PM

Phone: 508 257 9600

From the Evite:
We are pleased to invite you to a staged reading of Nancy Thayer's book, "The Hot Flash Club" to benefit Uniting Against Lung Cancer New England

Make it a girls' night out and bring your friends to the reception at 6pm and the reading at 7.

You will be supporting a cause that increasingly affects women.

Single Tickets are $75 in advance or at the door.

If you are interested in being a Benefactor $1000, Sponsor $250 or Supporter $150, let me know and I will send you the forms and you can register in advance.

This show, presented by Seaside Shakespeare features Judy Seinfeld, Annie Breeding, and Lisa McCandless directed by Laura Gallagher Byrne. In June it played to a full house. So reserve early.

Come and join the fun.

www.unitingagainstlungcancer.org
Funding innovative research and raising awareness

Great New Video Made By My Friend Tracy

2009-08-06T08:27:00.001-07:00

My friend Tracy Sestili of The Beverly Fund has a great new video that shows the real faces of lung cancer.

Take a look and if you like what you see, pass it on!

Are You At Risk for Lung Cancer?

2009-07-31T06:25:00.000-07:00

If you're at risk, how do you find out, and if so, what can you do about it? The Lung Cancer Alliance just launched an awesome new section of their website that answers those questions as well as presenting all of the latest screening and early detection options for those at risk. Check it out!

This weekend, I became a Twit

2009-07-27T12:32:00.001-07:00

I just got back from BlogHer, the 3-day conference where 1500 female bloggers (mostly "Mommy Bloggers) take over a hotel for something that kind of resembles a high school reunion/sorority party/Mary Kay convention/Baby Fair.

I knew I'd come back transformed in some way and I have. I've become a Twit. I am no longer a Twitter neophyte. Oh no. This weekend, I used the service to find a Blogher blogger on the outbound flight, make dinner plans with perfect strangers, stalk a group of savings bloggers, take notes at the conference, re-tweet better notes and get flight delay alerts from someone I'd met the night before. And that's just a few things I did on Twitter.

I promise to write more later about the conference, but in case anyone actually reads this teeny tiny little blog, I just wanted to say hi and let you know that a post is coming soon. It might even come later today, but since I have a job, I have to squeeze it in between deadlines so I can keep the aforementioned job.

Not that I'd lose it for blogging. I do work in the internets, after all, but a girl's gotta get some work done!

Back later!

Shocking and sad news

2009-07-23T06:45:00.000-07:00

The other night I went to dinner in the North End section of Boston with my friend Pat. Pat owns The Salon at 10 Newbury and has become my friend since my mom died.

She's the wonderful woman who helped find and shape the beautiful wig that Mom wore during her illness and turned what could have been a sad and depressing day - being fitted for a wig while you still have hair in preparation for the inevitable, undeniable evidence that you really have cancer - into something lovely, compassionate, and even enjoyable.

Anyway, Pat and I were having after-dinner coffee at one of the North End's most famous cafes when I spotted something on a decorative pedastal that caught my eye. It was a picture of my childhood hairdresser Richard.

This was completely out of context for so many reasons, not the least of which is that his salon was in Beacon Hill, a totally different Boston neighborhood from where we were currently having coffee. (Beacon Hill is pictured above.)

As I got closer to the pedastal, I saw that there were other framed pictures of people, most of them with brass plaques engraved with the words "in memory of." All of the people in these frames had passed away,and my heart sank because I knew this meant that Richard must have passed away too.

I asked the waitress about the people in the frames and she said that Richard was "the cafe owner's brother. He took his own life."

This took my breath away. It still does. I've heard people say "he/she was the last person you'd ever expect to take his own life" but in this case, it's the truth. Richard was the last person I'd expect to take his own life.

My mother and I came to know Richard when I was 13, after she'd been dating this guy Rob, sort of posh Beacon Hill type. Their relationship ended, but a new one with Richard began. Even though Mom and I lived 25 miles north of Boston, we trekked into the city every time we needed a haircut and into the haven of tranquility that was Richard's salon.

We did this for about 15 years, through college and into my twenties. Richard persuaded me to stop getting perms and segued me into the style that I still have today. In fact, Richard was the first person to talk me into highlighting my hair. And he really had to talk me into it!

It was the early 90's, I was a college freshman and for some unknown reason I wanted to be "natural." Richard convinced me that he could still make me look "natural", but it would be a huge improvement on the naturally blah color I had (he didn't use those words.)

He actually said "Julia, it's going to change your life." And he was absolutely right. Until I went blonde, I was neutral to the opposite sex. Neutral, neutered, whatever. They didn't notice me.

After Richard gingerly placed a few honey-blonde highlights into my mousey-blonde hair, that very night I was "noticed" by a beautiful boy with blue eyes from Connecticut named Elijah. I was so thrilled by this experience, I went to the salon the next day to tell Richard. "You were right," I said. "It did change my life." The next weekend, I met my first boyfriend Evan.

Even though I lived in London and later Los Angeles, after college I'd always visit Richard when I came to town, partly because I loved seeing him and partly because he gave me the most ridiculous deal: $80 for a cut and color.

Richard worked with a partner, Al, and as it turns out, they'd worked together since 1974. Because of this longevity, I wasn't quite sure of Richard's age. It turns out he was younger than I thought, only 49 when he died. That means he was only in his mid-late 20's when we met.

My mom and I were always frazzled and harried when we arrived at the salon because as lovely as Beacon Hill is, parking can be a little bit difficult. Plus, we were always running late.

Richard and Al would greet us with open arms, tell us to have a seat and not worry, have a cup of coffee, or maybe a glass of wine or pastry if it was Christmas time.

There was always something calming about Richard. He put people at ease, made them feel comfortable, normal, relaxed, understood. He seemed like the kind of guy who'd found his cosy niche in life and hadn't a care in the world other than the day to day responsibilities of raising a family and owning a small business. At some point in the early 90's, Richard and Al had downsized their salon so that it was just the two of them, and that took the managerial stress away too.

Richard was married with two daughters, adorable dark curly-haired beauties who he always displayed in pictures on his mirror. Every time you'd go in, there would be a new picture of the girls. The girls skiing in New Hampshire, by the Christmas tree, at school, etc. When I started going to Richard, they were toddlers and over the years, I watched them grow on that hairdressing mirror. They were 18 and 20 when Richard died.

At some point in the 5-8 years before Mom got sick, she stopped going to Richard. I don't think it was personal. I think it had something to do with the parking and also just the idea that it was time for a change. Because of that, I didn't see Richard as much either, although I'd still stop in from time to time.

When Mom was sick, the hopsital was co-incidentally a 5 minute walk from the salon, so one day I decided to pop in to say hi. I was shocked to see a closed salon and a note from Al saying that they'd decided to retire after 35 years of business.

This was in October 07. He'd put the note up in August. I was surprised and sad that I'd just missed them, but didn't really think too much more of it. Mom was getting sicker and sicker by the day and soon, my thoughts were only of her.

Unbenownst to me, Richard had passed away on Juy 4, 2007, three months earlier.

Al had closed the shop and moved on, too sad to continue the business on his own.

I'm still in shock over this loss. I didn't have a lot of men in my life growing up, and in a way, Richard was one of the male influences that had an impact on me. I always thought of him as such a solid, stable, warm, kind and gentle guy. Masculine but sensitive, loving, kind and capable. I always thought, I'd like to marry a guy like Richard, someone stable and calm, a good dad, a good husband.

I guess we never know what's happening inside another person's heart, mind and soul. I wish he'd been able to heal whatever was hurting him, but that wasn't the path he had to follow.

I know this would have shocked and upset my mom a lot. I hope the two of them are up in Heaven having a cup of coffee and a laugh. Maybe he's keeping her hair looking gorgeous and hopefully she's learned to not be quite so late...

RIP, Richard. You turned me into a blonde goddess and I haven't looked back since. I'll never forget you or your little salon on Charles Street. You truly did change my life, and the lives of so many men and women of Boston who had the pleasure of knowing you.

Love,
Julia

I did it!

2009-07-14T06:40:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the delay in blog posts. Work and the rest of my life suddenly got a little hectic and I couldn't blog as often as I wanted to... but I had to share a little moment with y'all since it's something I blogged about just a few weeks ago.

I finally ran a 5K in under 25 minutes! And... it was mostly due to the sage coaching advice of my friend Mike, also previously featured in this blog.

Just before the race started, he said he'd read my blog and knew I had this goal so he said "When you get to the first bridge, I know it's tempting to slow down but don't. This is where you have to pick up the pace. Don't start so fast and then pick up the pace between the bridges."

The point he was talking about is about a mile or so in, usually where I sort of relax from the fast start.

I'm usually catching my breath at this point, not speeding up, but I figured he's shaved minutes off of his time in 18 months. I'll take his advice.

It worked! I did it in 24:43, which was about a whole minute faster than two weeks earlier and 20 seconds faster than my previous best.

Woo hoo!

The race happens again tonight so we'll see if I can do it again. Last week was a reverse of the course, so I'm not sure. But I'll give it my best shot!

"How much are muskets going for these days?"

2009-07-06T08:47:00.001-07:00

America loves lung cancer awareness!
Well, they do on the 4th of July, anyway.

On Saturday, I marched in the Chelmsford, MA July 4th parade with the National Lung Cancer Partnership - and what a different reception we got there than at the Health and Fitness Expo! They loved us!

They clapped and cheered as we walked by with our banners and leaflets, just as if we'd been a marching band or a group of Revolutionary War re-enactors. Unlike most other marchers, we didn't even throw free candy to the crowd and they still loved us!

I think the weather had something to do with it, but we were also the only cancer advocacy group marching, so people didn't seem to mind reading our leaflets and learning about our cause. Their hearts and minds were open, their faces were smiling, and it was a pleasure to march along in the name of lung cancer awareness.

It was a pretty awesome parade, and I recommend it to any paradophiles. There are several local re-enactment fife and drum bands, mostly from the Lexington and Concord areas, which are also known as the seat of the American Revolution.

On the bus to the start line, we were crammed in with assorted other parade participants and I heard all kinds of interesting chatter. My favorite line was from a former re-enactor who's now a Knights of Columbus member to a man dressed in full Colonial Minuteman garb: "So, how much are muskets going for these days?" he asked, wistfully.

All in all, it was a great experience and I commend Suzanne Dahlberg for coming up with the idea. It was free and easy grassroots advocacy in action. Can't think of a better way to celebrate my freedom than by working towards freedom from lung cancer.

Boston Health and Fitness Expo

2009-06-29T06:28:00.001-07:00

This weekend, I worked the Lung Cancer Alliance booth at the Boston Health and Fitness Expo. It was inspiring, enlightening and exasperating, all at once.

It's a free event so there are a fair number of punters looking for swag. The crowd was... definitely an interesting cross section of America. That being said, there were actually quite a few people who were both interested in and touched by what we had to say and I think the whole endeavor was 100% worth it.

Some observations from the weekend:

It's the Lung Cancer Alliance, not the Smoking Cessation Alliance

Roughly one fifth of the people who walked up to our table said something like "I quit smoking last year" or "My dad still smokes. I wish he didn't."

For them, lung cancer equals smoking. The two are synonymous.

With those people, I tried to explain that that 60% of those diagnosed with lung cancer either never smoked or quit smoking decades ago, and that only 10% of smokers get lung cancer and that 20% of women who get lung cancer never touched a cigarette.

It got repetitive, but I didn't mind. They didn't know the facts about lung cancer, and I was able to enlighten them a little bit.

A Safe Haven

Some people would walk by the booth and inch closer, with an interested, even misty-eyed look on their faces. They had clearly been touched by lung cancer. For some, our booth became a solace, a safe and comfortable place where family members could talk about their loved ones who had passed on from or survived lung cancer.

Anyone who's ever been touched by lung cancer knows that it doesn't always elicit a warm and fuzzy response. You always run the risk of getting "the look" - the "she must have smoked so therefore she brought it upon herself" look.

90% of the time, they'll come right out and ask, "Did he/she smoke?" But when you're talking with another person about the very painful experience of losing your parent, spouse, sibling or friend, you really don't want to engage in a discussion about assigning blame. You just want sympathy, like anyone else who's lost a loved one. If you were talking about losing your dad to heart disease, you wouldn't want to immediately answer questions regarding how many steaks or doughnuts he ate, or how many cigarettes he smoked. It's the same for us. And at the Lung Cancer Alliance booth, we understood that. We've all been asked that question, so we know not to even go there, unless someone wants to. We were a safe haven.

The Very Informed

I was surprised and happy to see how informed so many people who stopped by to sign our Lung Cancer Mortality Reduction Act Petition were.

I'd start my schpeil about how lung cancer needs more money for research and several people grabbed for the pen to sign the petition right away and said things like "Damn right it does" or "You know it!" This was surprising and uplifting to see.

No Survivors

Interestingly, I didn't meet one new lung cancer survivor in the entire two day experience. Not one. The only people who came up to our booth who'd been touched by lung cancer were the friends and family members of lung cancer patients, most of whom had passed.

One Jerk

Finally, although there were a large amount of freaks and downright lunatics, no one really bothered me except for one man. He badgered me and badgered me about the statistics, questioning the smoking thing and ultimately he got personal, questioning whether I'd done an autopsy on my mother, along with other completely insensitive and inane questions. I had to ask him to leave because he upset me so much.

But in spite of that one bad apple, the event was totally worth it. We reached a lot of people who'd never heard the facts about the disease, and a good deal of others who've been affected by lung cancer but rarely feel as though they have an outlet or a place to turn to.

That felt good.

R.I.P., Farrah

2009-06-25T14:14:00.000-07:00

Farrah Fawcett was an incredible woman. She transcended "Jiggle TV" and Charlie's Angels to become one of those iconic survivors ... and then she was hit with cancer.

She survived that until she couldn't survive it any longer - and she shared every grueling moment with us.

I loved her for that.

She used her celebrity to share her most intimate struggles and moments with us and in doing so, she became not Farrah Fawcett the sexy pin-up girl with the delectable smile and pert physique. She became Farrah from California, the cancer patient, the cancer survivor, and now, the cancer angel.

Thanks for sharing your beautiful spirit with us Farrah.

My friend Lori Hope wrote a beautiful blog post that everyone should read. Go and check it out.

Good Times!

2009-06-25T07:54:00.000-07:00

Every Tuesday night in the summer, there's a super-fun 5K race series in Lowell called Good Times! Their logo, which also doubles as their "medals" in the form of coasters, is above.

I found out about the race series last year from my friend Mike, who I met at another 5K in Lowell, Lisa's Run for Lung Cancer.

Mike's intensely into running - so much so that even though I beat him in that first 5K when we met, in the year and a half since, he has surpassed me to a level that I will probably never reach.

I can't seem to break 25 minutes. Mike is now in the 22s, I believe. And he's older than me! Granted, he's taller than me. Much taller. And he's male. And has the typical runner's build. But still.

But one thing Mike does that I don't? He works at it. I mean he really works at it. I just show up and hope that osmosis is going to take my time down below 25 minutes. It sort of worked that way when I went from 27 minute times to 25 minute times. But I think my luck has run out. I need to do some good, hard work. And I'll do it. When I'm good and ready.

But the Good Times race series is so much fun because they have silly themes that people really get into.

Last week, at about the 1 mile mark, there were ten 12" X 12" boxes that were all empty - except one mystery box that held $100. If you were brave enough (and if there were any boxes left), you could grab a box and carry it the remaining 2.1 miles to take a chance on winning the loot.

Now, you might think it's a no brainer, that of course you'd take the money and run. But with so few boxes, only the fastest runners get there first - and those fast runners are pretty competitive people who don't want to ruin their times. For them, that choice is a struggle. That's why the race is actually called "The Temptation 5K."

By the time I got to the 1 mile mark, all of the boxes were gone, so I didn't have that struggle. But I know what my choice would have been: Screw the box! I can barely carry myself, let alone a bulky box!

The woman who won is actually a very cool woman who I've met many times and I couldn't have imagined the $100 going to a better person.

Next week is Classic T-shirt week, whatever that means to you, and they'll be giving out prizes for the best t-shirts.

After the races, everyone hangs out for cheap beer and $1 pizza and the gazillions of raffle prizes on offer.

I never really thought I was going to be the kind of person who did 5K races every Tuesday night. In my early twenties, with martini in hand, teetering on 4-inch stilettos, I would have blown smoke in your face and laughed.

But as we age, our priorities change. I really love this series, even though I'll never win. But the great thing is, they give prizes if you beat yourself, if you obtain a personal record (PR, in running terms.)

My PR for the 5K is 25:04. At some point this summer, I will do 24:59. I just might have to work at it a bit...

Age Defiance

2009-06-22T09:29:00.000-07:00

When I was 20, I got a job working for an extremely glamorous writer in London. She was hugely successful, fabulous with a capital F and she NEVER told anyone her age.

Her D.O.B. was a carefully guarded secret, and being her assistant, I was one of the privileged few who knew the real date.

Now to make things clear, this woman did not look her age. She had incredible skin and had a sort of "indeterminate" age.

When we met, she was 36. I think she wanted people to presume she was around 28. She was a newspaper columnist, and I think it was more impressive to appear to be as perceptive and brilliant in her late twenties than it would have been to be in her mid thirties. Plus, men prefer younger women and she loved men.

To me, though, it always seemed kind of silly. Age is one of those things that, while you can try to hide it, it's easy to figure out - or at least to guestimate.

Once people start talking about their lives, anyone can do the math and say, oh, she must be about X age. To learn that someone lied about it just makes them look vain and sort of sad. Worse, to learn that someone won't talk about it, just makes you want to know it more.

I've always looked younger than I am. If I wanted to pretend I was 7 or 8 years younger, I easily could. But I think that would be a lot of work.

What if people from my past meet the people from my present? I'd be called out as a liar. Plus, I love the look I get when people realize I'm older than they thought I was. It gives me a charge. It makes me smile.

Also, I don't want to live in some weird bubble where I'm in constant denial of my own real age and the aging process. I've always been a fan of acting one's age (most of the time) and I like milestones, comings of age, the maturation process.

I am lucky to look young (for now) so I do put some effort into preserving my youthful looks, but I don't want to wake up one day thinking I've been 29 for 15 years with the harsh reality that I'm actually pushing 50.

Also, because I've known so many people with cancer and know so many others who've lost their lives to cancer, I truly think that we should all celebrate each birthday with as much gratitude as we can.

In about 3 weeks, I'm going to be 35. It sort of feels weird to see it in print, but it's the truth. God willing, I'll live to be 95. That's my goal. But if not, I want to cherish every moment, every year and enjoy myself as I age.

I remember being 15 and having a complete consciousness that "Julia of 35" was going to be different from "Julia of 15" and I wondered, "What would Julia of 35 think of Julia of 15?"

I think she was a pretty awesome 15 year-old. She was wise beyond her years, talented, smart, loving, insecure sometimes and arrogant at others, but she was coming into her own.

And I wonder what Julia of 60 will think of Julia at 35. I hope she likes her. I'm pretty sure she will.

Family Time

2009-06-21T06:32:00.000-07:00

One definite perk of moving back home to the East Coast after 11 years in LA is that I get to feel connected with my past, my heritage, my family, etc.

This week was filled with events and coincidences that couldn't have happened if I still lived in LA.

On Thursday, my cousin needed to talk to me about some important issues in his life. He and I are one month apart. In fact, I'm the older one by about 5 weeks, although he's about 4 times my size and has been since birth. Anyway, when he needed the ear of someone who's known him a while, but isn't too wrapped up in his day-to-day life, I was there. I happened to be just a few towns over from where he was, so it was easy to get to him. We spent the night reminiscing and catching up... something we haven't done in years.

Yesterday, I went to a wedding with my mom's old friend from high school. The wedding was for the daughter of my mom's other school friend, so there were a few people from their home town of Beverly, MA.

First, I met a very nice man named Bobo. He's the widowed husband of my mom's old friend Marilyn Monroe (that's honestly her name - and she was born before Marilyn was famous, so it's just a coincidence.) In addition, there was a woman named Kathy who happened to be the widow of a man named Everett, who apparently was great friends with my dad. She said she'd been to my parents wedding in 1973. She could actually remember when the wedding was. And she asked me "Is your dad still so cute?" Hmm. Well, yes. Of course!

Later that night, I wound up at the Italian American Club in Beverly, MA, to see my mom's friend's son perform. That place is such a throwback! People were actually smoking indoors and I saw haircuts I haven't seen since 1979. I also saw my mom's first cousin Patrick, someone I haven't seen in about 10 years.

Pat was one of my mom's favorites, and he was a lot like her. Brilliant, somewhat misunderstood, a loner with a mind of diamonds.

Apparently he was top of his class in high school, but he went to Vietnam and like a lot of men in his situation, life wasn't as easy after that. If I had been a boy, would have been named Patrick and I'm sure he had something to do with that.

It was nice bumping into him and it reminded me that it feels good to be home.

Part of what I loved about living in LA was creating my own "home," my own family out of friends. I had "cousins" Mary and Marty, Tasha, Drew, Mike, Liz and Nancy. But they weren't my actual family, the one you don't choose. They were the family I chose. And being 3,000 miles away, I never randomly ran into distant (or not so distant) cousins.

Now that I'm hitting my mid-thirties, it's nice to be more "family-oriented" as they say. Hey, it might not last forever, but it's good to reconnect with everyone, remember my roots, so to speak.

But... I still miss cousin Marty and Mary and Tasha Drew, Nancy Liz and Mike and can't wait to see them mid-August! A different kind of family reunion...

Text Offenders

2009-06-17T08:36:00.000-07:00

As some of my friends know, I have several pet peeves. One of them is bare feet at weddings. The other is bare feet on car dashboards.

The third has nothing to do with feet, and everything to do with respect. Pls don't cancel via txt. Kthxbai.

It's happened to me a few times and it always shrieks of cowardice and an utter lack of respect. It usually happens close to the time of the appointed meeting, the person knows they're in the wrong, and they either can't be bothered to call you or don't want to deal with hearing the sound of your actual disappointment - or possibly even upsetness - so they just fire off a text instead.

It's ultimate passive aggression... or passive complacency, at least.

This happened to me yesterday, and I will not disclose the name of the text offender, but after canceling me via text 5 hours before our appointed dinner date, she didn't call to make sure I got the text, even after I never responded during those 5 hours.

Ten minutes before our date, I called to say I was running 5 minutes late and would be right there. Her response? "Oh, didn't you get my text?"

Um, no. I didn't.

She wasn't coming to dinner and I'd rushed out of a meeting to make our dinner date. Not only that, this was the rescheduling of a previous dinner date that she'd canceled via text, and knowing she'd be coming to my condo, I also had spent the morning before work readying it for company.

To her defense (only a little bit) I just got a new Blackberry and it puts the texts and emails together (which is annoying and something I have to fix) but I was aware of this and knowing she's a texter, I checked my phone repeatedly before, during and after my meeting. Somehow I still missed the text. And she never called to verify I'd received it.

I will say that the said text offender is younger than me by over 10 years, so there's definitely a generational thing going on. Clearly no one ever taught her proper phone, text and appointment etiquette. I think that those kind of manners are left untaught today. Parents don't know enough about technology to instill texting values in the young, and they apparently don't teach this kind of thing in schools.

The sad thing is that she might not have meant to be offensive. In her world, maybe everyone's a text offender.

But in my world, it just annoying.

Summer Fridays

2009-06-16T12:12:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, people ask me if I miss being a freelance journalist. Today, I can say with total confidence "NO!"

I work a 9-5 job at a great company, the kind of company that wants you to work hard while you're there and enjoy your life when you're not. Ie, it really is 9-5.

Compared to my former life as a freelance, where you NEVER had freedom and were always "on the clock" and beating a deadline, this is a kind of ecstasy that I've never quite experienced before. I love it.

When the clock strikes 5, some of my co-workers literally bolt out of the door. I still feel weird leaving as early as 5 and prefer to stay til 6 or so, but if I did want to leave then, no one would bat an eyelid.

Well, today, they announced we're getting even MORE free time.

They're instituting something called "Summer Fridays" where we can leave the office at 1pm on Fridays.

I feel as though I've died and gone to heaven. I mean, if I can't get my work done in that time, I can't leave the office, and that's totally possible... but I CAN leave if I want to. I could come in early and blast through everything and actually ENJOY myself of a random afternoon.

I could get errands done, start a weekend trip early, beat the summer traffic, get my hair done.

There's so much I could do.

Let the summer begin!

Scenes from The Bunker Hill Day Parade

2009-06-15T10:30:00.000-07:00

In the 11 years that I lived in LA, I don't think I watched one parade. Oh wait. I did see one, but I had to go to Huntington Beach, so that doesn't count.

In New England, you could see a parade every weekend if you wanted to, they're that common. For me, though, they're still a treat that's as rare as fried clams so when I found out there was a parade marching right through my 'hood, I was all over it.

The Battle of Bunker Hill Parade commemorates the bloody and fateful battle that took place 250 years ago, literally steps from my condo.

It’s a nice parade, filled with tons of Revolutionary War re-enacters and pretty awesome fife drum bands as well as our own current navy band marching in full uniform.

One thing I had forgotten about in terms of parades is how much politicians love to march. Everyone from Mayor “Mumbles” Menino to our state rep Geno Flaherty took part, and one other character who didn't quite fit.

Yup. Chewie marched in the parade. Maybe they were trying to say that if the force had been with us, we would have won that battle. Not quite sure about that one.

Other various and sundry Charlestown characters marched or floated through, including some war widows and Gold Star Moms, which are mothers who have lost sons in a war. This woman wasn't part of either of those floats, but she must have done something good because she looks like she's been through a lot.

The day actually began with me running the Battle of Bunker Hill 8K race, which has a very challenging hill 2 miles in and ended with impromptu grilling of steaks with Chuck, my dad and Chuck's daughter Polly.

All in all, a great day of Americana, with road races, parades and bbqs - oh, and the Red Sox game was on in the background. Doesn't get more American than that!

Local BlogHer MeetUp

2009-06-15T07:31:00.001-07:00

Saturday, I went to a BlogHer event in Hudson Mass to meet some local bloggers that we might possibly feature on the re-launch of my company's website... and it was definitely worth the drive.

I was met at the door by Janice Newell Bissex, one of the women behind a fantastic healthy eating/cooking and recipe site called "Meal Makeover Moms." She's got a very professional-looking site and even her own radio show. She'll stay on our radar for sure!

Next, I met the wife of a man who was representing the "BlogHim" demographic and has a blog called "Daddy Scratches" (www.daddyscratches.com). Yes, my mind went to the gutter immediately at the thought of his blog's name, but apparently it's a reference to his scratchy face when he doesn't shave - a kid thing.

While munching on fruit salad and mingling with fellow bloggers, I heard that there was someone named "The Coupon Goddess" in the other room. She was someone I definitely had to meet.

I made a beeline for the sun porch and planted myself at a table of bloggers, including The Coupon Goddess.

Melanie, as she's known IRL is a SAHM mother of 4, who puts Coupon Mom to shame in terms of the amount of mind-blowing deals she gets each week. Her blog is primarily a journal of how and what she saves.

A typical day out for her can include spending $31.35 and saving $341.19. Seriously. She ends up getting a lot of stuff for free, but it doesn't sit in her basement, gathering dust. She supports an entire troop of soldiers in Iraq and sends them boxes of goodies each week.

She's one of these women that you just have to stop and admire. Four kids, gorgeous and polished, and she also makes this phenomenal savings sound so easy.

Some quotes from her yesterday: "I haven't paid for a cleaning product in over 10 years." "I actually earned $400 by shopping at the grocery store last week."

She even answered difficult questions about how to save on Kosher food and how to save on organic vegetables and meats. Watch her space. I think she's got huge potential.

Her site again is: www.thecoupongoddess.blogspot.com

Two other women at the table who have great blogs include Susan, who writes a completely charming "travel blog" that's not always about far-flung destinations (www.transienttravels.com) and Megan, who has a fun shopping blog (www.agirlmustshop.com).

I hope to get to meet all of them again soon. And,who knows? Maybe we can even work together one of these days...

My 10 seconds of fame

2009-06-12T06:16:00.000-07:00

Last night, in the middle of dinner at Bertucci's, my Blackberry started buzzing like crazy. There was an opportunity for me to comment on the 11 o'clock news about an exciting new piece of legislation - a ban on the use of the marketing terms "Light" or "Low-tar" in reference to cigarettes.

This is huge news for anyone with an interest in cancer - and spefically lung cancer since we're always tarred with the smoking brush (pardon the pun) so I didn't want to pass it up. But at the same time, it was a bit of a challenge. And I was at a pizza joint.

As lung cancer advocates, we work very hard to try and erase the smoking stigma that plagues lung cancer patients and their families. Yes, smoking is a risk factor for lung cancer, but smoking is also the leading cause of heart disease and is the leading risk factor for a number of other cancers including bladder, kidney, esophageal, pancreatic, cervical and even some leukemias. Only 20% of smokers die from lung cancer, and 10-15% of people who get lung cancer never smoked at all, so it's not a total cause and effect type of equation.

Unfortunately though, lung cancer still bears the brunt of the smoking stigma and that's the main battle we fight in trying to get people to have compassion for the disease and also to get more funding for research so that we can start to finally increase survival rates. Lung cancer survival rates haven't changed in 35 years! They've remained stuck at a paltry 15% - and it's mostly because people view lung cancer as a disease that people bring on themselves.

Anyway, I wanted to talk about the light and low-tar cigarettes without linking it 100% to lung cancer, which was a little bit complicated and I was more than a little bit nervous.

I ended up saying something like this:

"My mom died from lung cancer and although she quit smoking 18 years before her diagnosis, she did smoke - and like many smokers, she thought by smoking "light" cigarettes, she was making the healthy choice. The truth is, there is no healthy choice when it comes to cigarettes and smoking isn't just a huge risk factor for lung cancer, which my mother had, but also for cardio-vascular disease and a number of other cancers from bladder to pancreatic."

At least I HOPE I was that eloquent!

I think more likely my quote was peppered with "ums" and "ahhhs" and "you knows." It all happened so fast. One minute I was scarfing down pizza. The next I was standing outside Bertucci's with a camera in my face. Oh, and the reporter, Sean Kelly, is super-tall so he stood in the gutter while I stood on the curb so we'd appear somewhat similar in height. Just a little visual for you all.

In the end, the segment didn't air until about 12:30 am after the Lakers playoff game. I fell asleep on the couch waiting to see it. Chuck saw it though and said I "looked good" which is always nice to hear, but he also said that it was "so quick" and I was on for about 10 seconds.

In hindsight, that might be a good thing. I can look at this experience as a chance to practice my "TV" skills and if there's another opportunity for us to comment on something that relates to lung cancer in the future, I'll be that much more ready for my "close-up." Maybe next time I won't have to wipe the pizza crumbs off my face seconds before air time.

I don't want to be a bitter old hag, really.

2009-06-11T10:05:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, as a lung cancer advocate, you can feel a little bitter. Or at least I can. Let me explain:

Last night I went to my monthly meeting at Mass General Hospital in Boston. I’m part of the Patient and Family Advisory Council (PFAC), which is yet another example of how phenomenal MGH is.

MGH actually seeks feedback from former patients and family members about new and current initiatives, new projects and how to spend their money.

The topic that came up last night was “Bucket #5” which is basically a pool of money that hasn’t yet been spent. They want us to help figure out how to spend it.

As part of the exercise, we were given a quick refresher course on all of the fantastic programs available to patients in the MGH Cancer Center from the healing garden to social work and psychiatric care, acupuncture and ride services, support groups, etc, etc.

Then they came to a program which made the bitter creature inside of me start to twitch: pilates classes for breast cancer survivors.

I asked if other types of cancer survivors could join the class, and our group leader said apologetically, no. For one thing, she said, it’s funded with breast cancer money, as a lot of the extra MGH programs are funded by donors. And for the other, breast cancer survivors need this kind of class because of the terribly invasive surgeries they have. They need to rebuild their cores (ie, abdomens) after breast cancer surgery.

I do not begrudge the breast cancer patients their pilates, but this kind of distinction and frankly, class divide, brings out my bitterness.

What about ovarian or uterine cancer survivors? What about stomach cancer patients? Don’t they need their cores strengthened too? And of course, what about lung cancer patients?

Recovering from lung surgery, where in many cases ribs have to be broken in order to access the lungs, is no easy feat.

It would be nice to have a lung cancer-exclusive pilates class too, but the money from the lung cancer community can’t be allocated to such niceties as pilates. The money that we raise has to go straight to research. We have to help people live first and worry about “feeling better” later. Feeling better is a luxury we just can’t afford.

The thing is, breast cancer didn’t always have its own pilates classes and billion dollar foundations. It took the work of a LOT of advocates to stand up and say we ARE going to talk about women’s breasts and we ARE going to advocate for screening.

So when the bitter old hag isn’t screaming in my ears, I look at the pink behemoth of the breast cancer advocacy movement and bow down at her in awe. What they have done is incredible. I just hope we can do it someday too.

And - the upside is that the underdog eventually wins. Cinderella found her prince, the Red Sox won the World Series and hopefully, with enough work, lung cancer will have the luxury of our own pilates classes (and a whole lot more).

Would you like some attitude with your coffee?

2009-06-10T07:24:00.000-07:00

I live in Charlestown, a section of the city that used to be home to Boston's Irish-American gangtsas, hoods and bank robbers, but now is overrun with babies, dogs and investment bankers.

One of the things that's so charming about my 'hood is that the townies and the toonies (yuppie scum like me) co-exist pretty happily. They're happy we came in and updated the place. We're happy to have the "character" that keeps real estate prices low.

But where the two worlds divide is in the land of coffee, where you have two options for your morning caffeine rush: Dunkin Donuts and Zume's. Which one you choose separates the wheat from the chaff. Personally, I don't draw a line in the sand. I straddle the fence and decide where to go based on my mood.

Now, one might think that at Dunkins, while you could get "comfort food" in the form of their weak but lovable coffee, calorie-rich muffins, bagels and donuts, you might get a surly attitude from minimum-wage chain-store-working donut-sellers. And while prices would naturally be higher at the highbrow coffee shop Zume's across the street, you'd get some neighborhood charm and friendliness that would make it worth crossing the street.

Not so. In fact, the opposite is true. The workers at Zume's seem as though they are doing you the hugest favor by waiting on you at all. I've rarely seen any of them smile, and I often leave there feeling a little bit hassled and like I've just offended them by paying $7 for a coffee, banana, apple and yogurt.

At Dunkins, the servers are chipper immigrants, with smiles on their face and wry senses of humor, trying to get the morning rush crowd through as quickly as possible. I've rarely felt mistreated and usually walk out of there at max $3.50 lighter.

So, the choice should be clear. I should choose townie over toonie and stay true to my roots - as well as my tolerance for rudeness. But at D&D, for all of it's charm and nostalgia, they only serve muffins, donuts and bagels. No healthy options to be had. If only they had fruit. If only their coffee was a little bit stronger.

Instead, I suffer through surly service at Zume's, watching the carriage corral as the moms who don't work gather to gossip and chat with their perfect toddlers and $500 strollers, probably re-living a routine that's not too dissimilar from Charlestown mothers of yore - just with more expensive coffee.

The real solution to my bourgeois dilemma? Make my coffee at home and tote my own yogurt and fruit to work. But then, what would I have to complain about?

I Had My Jerry Springer Moment

2009-06-08T15:13:00.000-07:00

Saturday night, Chuck and I went to see Jerry Springer The Opera and we emerged a little dirtier. It was one of the most irreverent musicals I've ever seen, and I'm not completely sheltered. I mean, I lived in LA for 11 years. I've seen a few things.

For the uninitiated, it's an opera about the Jerry Springer Show, and it's abso-f*cking-lutely hilarious. I don't normally curse, but after 2 hours of this Springer show, it's hard not to.

I'm not saying I didn't like it. I actually thought it was hilarious. But it did that thing that the actual Jerry Springer show does. It made me squirm in my seat, uncomfortable with the prurient nature of what I was watching, cringing at the words being said, the topics being covered. Let's just say there's a lot of toilet humor. And tons of profanity. There is no bleeping in this show - and the curses spoken (and sung) are the absolute worst in the English language.

One of the songs has a chorus that repeats over and over again "What the f*ck, what the f*cking f*cking f*ck?" Seriously. The C-word is used as the main refrain in one song, the word d__bag in another. Jesus is portrayed as a diaper-wearing, whiny victimy "slightly gay" tenor, and the whole thing is definitely blasphemous.

But we liked it. As we were walking out, we were chuckling to ourselves like we'd just done something naughty - as if we'd just had a frisky moment in the bathroom that only we knew about. We've been joking about it for days and our language has certainly gotten more vulgar as a result.

This show was a smash hit in London but for some reason, it never really took off in the States. I think that's partly because it hits a little too close to home for us.

It's easy for the Brits to laugh at our religious zeal and parody our most embarrassing #1 TV show, the one that shows the ugly (but scarily true) underbelly of America. When we're forced to look at it - have it literally "in our faces" - it's not so easy for all of us to take. "Jersey Boys" or "Mama Mia" this is not.

But if Jerry Springer The Opera comes to your city, I highly recommend that you see it. It's an experience, it's a happening, and it's a f*cking fun night out!

Kristine Matson Unsung Hero Award

2009-06-08T13:16:00.000-07:00

About a month ago, I went to the Captsone Ceremony for Stand and Deliver, the mentoring program at Lawrence High School, where my mom volunteered. They had asked me to come and present an award in her memory, the Kristine Matson Unsung Hero Award, and I just got a picture of me and Aryln Hernandez, this year's recipient. Thought I'd share it with you all.

Ultimate Boot Camp!

2009-06-02T06:41:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I started my first boot camp class of the season. Boot camp is actually Ultimate Boot Camp, a Boston-based company I found last year when I first moved back to the city.

I was looking for a way to meet people and get some regular exercise, and it fit the bill in both departments. I did boot camp last June through September and it looks like I'll be doing the same thing this year!

Last year, I started classes on the Boston Common in June because the Charlestown class was full. That was fun because I got to work out in Back Bay and Beacon Hill - gorgeous neighborhoods that I can't quite afford just yet. Then, for July,August and September, I worked out in my 'hood, Charlestown, just a 10 minute walk or 5 minute drive away (depending on how late I sleep in.)

We primarily work out in Paul Revere Park, a beautifully landscaped outdoor space just across from the famed Zakim Bridge. We often move over to the docks in the Navy Yard which affords stunning morning views of downtown Boston and sometimes we go up to the Bunker Hill Monument, another scenic vista.

Boot camp is Mon-Thurs mornings from 6-7. It can be a challenge to wake up at 5:30 every morning and it takes some adjustment initially, but I love the fact that I get to spend time outside almost every day even though I work a 9-5 job. I love that exercise is done by 7am (unless I want to go for a run after work) and I love meeting new people, often neighbors.

Last year, I met three girlfriends at boot camp, and if I can meet three more friends this summer, I'll be very happy indeed.

Oh, and the instructors, John and Emily, happen to be my next door neighbors, so I can't get away with too much of they'll be knocking on my door...

Kevin Brumett 11/29/77-5/28/09

2009-05-29T06:38:00.000-07:00

Yesterday morning, my friend Kevin Brumett lost his battle with lung cancer at age 31.

I met Kevin last August, when we worked together on the Shine a Light on Lung Cancer Vigil Committee. When I met him, I couldn't believe that the picture of health and vitality and optimism before me was one year into an advanced lung cancer diagnosis.

He was truly the nicest guy you could meet, always putting others before himself and I can't begin to express my sadness at this senseless loss. Not that it should matter, but Kevin never smoked. He was athletic and healthy, fit and trim. He was your all-American guy and he got lung cancer at age 29.

His smile lit up every room he walked into. His presence was so strong, so powerful and so positive, I can still feel the warmth of his smile even now.

He is no longer fighting and is no longer with us in body, but his indomitable spirit will live on.

RIP, Kevin. We will miss you terribly. You will never, ever be forgotten.

Help Me Live: 20 Things Cancer Patients Want You To Know

2009-05-27T12:22:00.000-07:00

I had the pleasure of meeting Lori Hope last May, when I attended the first Lung Cancer Advocacy Summit. A 7-year lung cancer survivor and author of the book "Help Me Live: 20 Things Cancer Patients Want you To Know," Lori is an absolute doll.

Lori is one of those amazing people who's both spiritual and down to earth, passionate but gentle, sweet but assertive, always questioning, never arrogant, with boundless energy and a wonderful open-mindedness. I've so enjoyed our phone and email chats over the past few months and she's been a complete inspiration to me over the past year in terms of what you can do through the power of the written word - even if you don't have a book contract or journalism assignment.

She does happen to have both of those - she was a former medical reporter, has a blog on Care Pages and wrote her fantastic book mentioned here in 2003 after surviving her lung cancer diagnosis.

This book is a must-read for anyone who's been touched by cancer and wants to know how to talk to your loved ones, what to say and what not to say. For friends and family members, it's such a great guide for what to do in unchartered territory. Most of us have not had a lot of experience with cancer, and when someone is diagnosed, it's like a kick in the stomach - mostly for the patient, but also for the loved ones, friends and family, even work colleagues.

The book is beautifully written and I recommend it to anyone who's been dealt that blow themselves - either as a patient or someone close to a patient. You'll be moved by the stories inside and you'll feel a little better prepared when it comes to talking to and helping the cancer patient in your life.

You can order it at Amazon and other online booksellers as well as at bookstores.

Boston Pops "Baseball Music"

2009-05-26T11:31:00.000-07:00

Saturday night, Chuck and I joined Judie Toti and her husband Norm for a night at the Symphony to see The Boston Pops. This is actually our second visit to Symphony Hall together, the first time to see Bernadette Peters, which he agreed was "magnificent."

That's one of the things I love about Chuck. He'll go see Bernadette Peters with me and love it. He raved about Mama Mia. He adored Rod Stewart. He's got a chick side to him that I can totally date, although I wouldn't tell him that.

So night two at Symphony Hall was baseball music. As someone who I think actually might have an addiction to the Boston Red Sox, I thought he'd love it. And he did, mostly.

For the first half of the concert, Pops conductor Keith Lockhart decided that we Red Sox fans needed to "eat our vegetables" and listen to a 20-minute Menndehlson violin piece before being allowed to hear "Take me Out to the Ballgame" and various baseball themes from Broadway.

I thought that was sort of paternalistic of him. Like "we'll let you listen to your populist music once you listen to music that's good for you."

The audience was confused. There they were, all decked out in their Red Sox jerseys waiting to hear "baseball music" - whatever that really is - and they had to listen to real symphony stuff. With movements and "false endings" and everything. Chuck sighed a lot. After all, their violin soloist was no Bernadette Peters in a sewn-on beaded gold dress.

Maybe Lockhart won some of them over and they'll become season ticket holders for Brahms, Mozart and more Mendehlson concerts. Maybe not. Luckily, the second half of the show was everything you'd imagine, including video screens of famous Red Sox moments and even big-screen fireworks and special effects.

I'm tempted to write Keith Lockhart an email to ask him about his paternalistic motives, but part of me thinks I needed a little broccoli with my mac 'n cheese.

Tell Oprah About Lung Cancer!

2009-05-18T11:20:00.000-07:00

The Bonnie J. Addario Lung Cancer Foundation is sending a six-foot tall letter to the Oprah Winfrey Show imploring Oprah to dedicate a show to our common cause and to shine a light on the disease.

The huge (literally) letter is schedule to arrive to Oprah on May 21st.

You can help!

1. Please log on to https://www.oprah.com/plugform.jsp?plugId=220 either late Wednesday night or FIRST THING on Thursday morning and pour your heart and lungs out about WHY you want to see Lung Cancer “talked about” on her show. (You will have 2000 characters).

2. We don’t want to tell you what to write and each email should be different.

3. Just mention that you hope she’s had a chance to read Bonnie J. Addario’s BIG letter.

If you like, you can send the Addario Foundation a copy of what you wrote.

Thank you in advance, for giving it a go! It’s time for Lung Cancer to hit the airwaves in a BIG way.

Note: If, for any reason, the above link doesn’t take you to the “WE HEAR YOU: OPRAH’s MAIL” page…just go to www.oprah.com…you’ll find it.

Please write to Oprah on Thursday, May 21st ,and make Lung Cancer the headline it should be every day.

Boston Advocates Group Picture

2009-05-18T08:58:00.001-07:00

Here's a picture of some of the fabulous Boston-area lung cancer advocates after our "meeting of the minds" last week at Meryl's house.
Here's hoping we can do great things together!

My Mom's Letter

2009-05-15T10:01:00.000-07:00

After my letter to the Globe was published last week, something amazing happened. I remembered that my mother had also written a letter to the Globe, the night before her stroke, on October 2, 2007. It was in response to this article:

http://www.boston.com/yourlife/health/articles/2007/09/30/cancer_scares_grow_as_screening_rises/

That night in October, she emailed her letter to me to see what I thought about it. Last Saturday, a year and a half later, I realized that I had saved it in my inbox.

After re-reading it (the day before Mother's Day) I truly believe it was shown to me as a gift from her, to help me focus my advocacy efforts, to be reminded of how she felt when she was diagnosed with lung cancer - as my friend Lori says, when she was punched with her lung cancer diagnosis.

I wanted to share it here to share how she felt back then. It's a beautiful letter, and it makes me realize that if she was here today, she'd be right beside me in the fight against lung cancer. She was only 6 weeks into her diagnosis and she was already acting as an advocate, emailing letters to reporters, trying to do what she could to fight against the awful disease that was taking her life.

For the record, her letter was never published and the writer responded with a cursory 'thanks for writing but there's nothing I can do' message.

Here's her letter:

Scott-
I read with horror your article on cancer scares. That poor Jane Lee did get a scare, because she had a tumor that might have been cancer that had to be removed, and also got something many people with cancer would trade everything they have for: proof, corroboration that she does not have cancer. She is certified cancer free, while most women with ovarian cancer, as your article states, only learn about their condition when it is too late, because it is undetectable.

So are many other cancers, but the most egregiously unscreened cancer is lung cancer. Usually, the cancer grows undetected in the lungs, which have no nerve endings, and cause no pain until the tumors have metastasized into the lymph glands or other parts of the body. Most lung cancers that are discovered early are only discovered accidentally, while looking for something else.

Every year over 200,000 people contract lung cancer and every year over 160,000 people die of lung cancer. There is no screening.
More women die from lung cancer than from breast cancer. Yet there is no screening. We do not even know that we are at risk.

In case you are wondering, I am one of those women, 58 years old, otherwise extremely youthful and healthy who just found out that she has advanced stage, inoperable lung cancer. Tell poor Jane that she should be on her knees every day thanking the almighty that she is cancer free.
She is so lucky, and yet all she can see is that her very concerned and thorough doctors had the courage to look at all inevitabilities and prove that her tumor was benign.

Scott- If you want to do a true service to the Globe readers, you will get educated on the subject of lung cancer and help expose the sad, but undeniable fact that there is no screening for lung cancer and that there is little or no awareness on the part of most women that lung cancer kills more of us each year than breast cancer. That it is often viewed as a preventable disease, caused by smoking, sometimes causes people to accept their death sentence as inevitable.

I smoked at one time, just like my mother, father, grandmother, doctor, boss, and co-workers, and most of my friends. We smoked in hospitals, at the workplace, in restaurants and at family gatherings at schools in the teacher's room. And yes, when the pressure to quit was great enough, about 20 years ago, I did quit.

Lung Cancer Organizations are expecting an explosion in the number of lung cancer diagnoses over the next few years as the baby boomers age. Please understand that articles like yours could work against adding screening for this deadly disease.
And by the way, you will hear some of the same arguments against testing, against lung x-rays and CT scans, but what the heck, it is only a chance to prove you don't have the disease. I suffer my yearly mammogram with nary a positive result, have annual PAP smears with only an occasional second look, but do so willingly in order to try to catch the deadly cancer early, while it is still treatable. Those cancer scares are really cancer free certifications that any cancer patient would trade anything for.

Regards,

Kristine Matson
Cancer Survivor.

So many lung cancer advocacy groups...

2009-05-15T07:48:00.000-07:00

Last night, one of our fabulous Boston lung cancer advocates, Meryl Bralower, invited a group of us into her home to meet with Susan Mantel and Gretchen McGarry of Uniting Against Lung Cancer, formerly known as Joan's Legacy, to see what we might be able to do together in our community to raise awareness and/or money for lung cancer.

A few weeks ago, I traveled to Dallas for the National Lung Cancer Partnership's 2nd annual Lung Cancer Advocacy Conference.

In late June, I'll be helping to create a lung cancer booth at the Boston Health and Fitness Expo with the Lung Cancer Alliance - as well as working on the 2nd annual Shine a Light on Lung Cancer Illumination Vigil in November.

In November, Boston has a Lung Cancer Walk, which benefits Lungevity, another lung cancer foundation, and I'll be attending that.

Recently, I was telling everyone about the new OPI nail polish "Breathe Life" which was the result of the hard work of a California-based group called The Lung Cancer Foundation of America.

My dear friend and fellow advocate Lori Hope is on the board of a fantastic lung cancer organization based in the San Francisco area, one that has done a large public awareness campaign about CT screening, the Bonnie Addario Foundation.

Another friend and advocate, Tracy Sestili created a foundation in memory of her mother, The Beverly Fund.

And really, there are many, many others.

When it comes to lung cancer advocacy, there's no shortage of worthy, well-meaning organizations and foundations to support. The difficult part is choosing one to stand behind. To be honest, I really don't want to have to "choose" one. I intend to support as many as I can, in different ways.

But at the end of the day, I have a concrete goal, which is to raise at least $100,000 for lung cancer research in the next 12 months. Sadly, I can't get them all to work together, so I'll have to choose one or two for which I will actively fundraise and focus my energies.

It's a tough decision. I'm trying to do due diligence. I'm researching different organizations. I want to support a mission that my mother would have stood behind. I want to be practical and make sure I'm not setting myself up to work alone in an uphill battle.

I know I'm not going to please everyone. I hope the ones I disappoint understand.

I will be seeking guidance from my mentors and friends, and I will pray to my mother to help me make this decision. I know one thing. I can't stand back and "want" to raise money for lung cancer. I have to do it, and soon.

Julia

What a week in online advocacy

2009-05-14T10:15:00.000-07:00

I've been so busy I haven't had a chance to post about this yet, but it's been an exciting week in lung cancer advocacy - at least for me! After Boston Red Sox Commentator Jerry Remy announced that he has lung cancer, I wrote a letter to the editor at the Boston Globe and it was published last Saturday.
It was titled "Remy's Diagnosis Brings Lung Cancer Into The Open"

Immediately, people emailed in with their support of Jerry and agreed with me that lung cancer patients often hide in shame because of the smoking stigma, and that it's one of the great shames of this awful disease.

Then, on Tuesday, a REBUTTAL to my letter was published, entitled "Let's Be Clear on the Causes of Lung Cancer."

It was written by Jane Appleyard Allen, who feels very strongly that cigarettes are largely to blame for lung cancer - something I don't entirely disagree with - but her letter spurred twice as many responses as mine from lung cancer survivors and family members writing in to tell the writer (correctly so) that she was perpetuating the smoking stigma that has caused so much harm to those of us who've been touched by the disease.

She not only heard from never smokers who have late stage lung cancer, but former smokers like my mother who don't want to face judgment and a lack of compassion when they're in the fight of their lives against a relentless disease. So many heartfelt replies poured in, and the writer herself responded to say that they had made her think. She had been moved.

With her reply, I developed a new respect for Jane Allen. I think that we all share a similar view. Those of us whose experience with lung cancer also includes an experience with cigarettes wish that cigarettes had never touched our lives. We'll never know for sure whether it was the cigarettes - or just a genetic pre-disposition that contributed to ours or our loved one's lung cancer. As Suzanne Dahlberg, an advocate friend and Dana Farber cancer researcher aptly said , cigarettes are not a cause of lung cancer. They are are a "risk factor."

But at any rate, I think it can safely be said that most of us in the lung cancer community hate cigarettes. We just hate the smoking stigma that hovers like a black plague over our loved ones even more.

Changes to my blog

2009-05-13T12:43:00.001-07:00

Hi there,

For a long time I've been making updates to my mom's Care Pages as a sort of "blog" as well as updating my Facebook and Twitter feeds with the goings on in my life, but I've decided to merge those into one with this blog.

With this blog, I'll be posting the latest info on my advocacy efforts, stuff being done in my mom's memory, as well as general goings on in Boston and the world that I find interesting. (including great deals and coupons - as that is another passion and part of my "real job.")

So, just wanted to make that announcement. I've slightly changed the title of the blog to reflect that it's no longer just a marathon training blog, but a lifestyle blog as well.

If you have any comments or questions for me, you can always feel free to email me at jgaynor711@gmail.com.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy my blog!

Mom was remembered last night

2009-05-13T09:31:00.001-07:00

Last night I went to Raytheon in Andover for the capstone ceremony for the Stand and Deliver mentoring program.

18 months ago, they created a new addition to the Stand and Deliver Program in my mom's name called the "Kristine Matson College Bound Program." Unlike the traditional Stand and Deliver program,which had paired Raytheon employees with the younger students to prepare them for the MCAS exam, this program matches Raytheon employees with the Advanced Placement Calculus students to help them become even better prepared for college.

Last night, a past student named Rueben spoke about how he'd come from the Dominican Republic to Massachusetts only 5 years ago, speaking no English, and last year he scored a 5 out of a possible 5 on the AP Calculus exam. This allowed him to place out of two semesters of college math, and as he so wisely said "he didn't have to pay for those two classes, either." He's a student at WPI now and will be doing an internship at Raytheon in the robotics division this summer.

With the incredible devotion of my mom's friend and Lawrence High calculus teacher Anne Chay, as well as Raytheon co-ordinator Terri Munson, this program has grown to include 100 students this year.

Last night, I presented an award in my mom's memory, the "Kristine Matson Unsung Hero Award" to Arlyn Javier, who, like my mom is always helping others and holds her own in male-dominated math classes.

It was awe-inspiring to see such good work being done at Raytheon, where my mom worked for 16 years, and to see the wonderful collaboration between the Lawrence High students and the Raytheon engineers.

My mom would have been so proud to have her name be a part of something so inspiring.

(the blurry picture posted here is my mom and her Stand and Deliver mentee Elizabeth)

I Did It! Post-Race Re-Cap.....

2009-04-29T07:40:00.001-07:00

Me, just after the race

Over a week later, I finally have time to re-cap the Boston Marathon. The morning after the marathon, I jumped on a plane to Dallas to attend the National Lung Cancer Partnership’s Advocacy Summit and was immersed in all things lung cancer for about 5 days, so there wasn’t a minute to blog. I’ll be blogging about that soon. Right now, it’s all about catch-up! So here goes:

The afternoon before the race, I went to a pasta dinner with the other 560 members of the Dana Farber team where we heard from past Boston Marathon winners Bill Rodgers and Uta Pippig, as well as our coach Jack Fultz, the 1976 winner of the marathon. They didn’t really have too much advice for us at this point, with the big question being “What will the weather be like?” With Boston, that’s always the question. By the time the night before the race rolls around, there’s not much left to learn. But the weather can make or break a good race experience.

It seemed clear was that we weren’t going to have heat, which was a relief. Temps were expected in the 40’s and 50’s and overcast. Perfect. But, there would be headwinds. Those winds could be as strong as 35 mph, right in our face, particularly towards the end when we were really hurting. So how to dress? Coach Jack suggested layering – but not discarding any layers as one usually does because the weather was projected to get colder as the day progressed and as we moved closer to the city. He ended up being better than the Farmer’s Almanac with that prediction!

All of the other marathons I’ve done before have been with Team in Training, specifically the Los Angeles chapter of TNT. It’s a phenomenal group that makes sure you’re looked after every step of the way. It’s particularly great for first-time marathoners because you’re assigned a mentor, someone who’s been through the program before and can help you with all of the logistics.

The Dana Farber approach is much more hands-off, which took some getting used to for a former TNT girl. There are no mentors, very few emails, a kind of DIY approach. This definitely held true on race morning, but more on that in a minute.

I met Lisa at 6am at her hotel and we walked over to Boston Common to board the yellow school buses to Hopkinton with 20,000 other marathoners. It was unbelievable. We waited in line for about 35 minutes, and we were off.

Waiting for the bus

While waiting in line, and in Hopkinton itself, I had a little bit of a reality check. This whole time, we’ve been training with other “charity runners”, aka, people who didn’t qualify with a superfast time. The truth is, the majority of Boston’s runners are “qualifiers” – aka superfast and “serious” runners. It was a little daunting.

Somehow, the 26.2 mile bus ride to Hopkinton always takes an hour. On the freeway, going at least 55 mph. You can imagine our apprehension about that. And in our case, the bus driver actually got lost, so it took 1.5 hours. Nothing like that to get a few nerves crackling.

Lisa and I, on the bus

When we finally arrived at Athlete’s Village, which is a series of tents and porta-potties surrounding Hopkinton High School, we needed those porta-poties – bad. Hopkinton is a pretty small town outside of Boston and there are actually barns dotted about. When we disembarked the bus, we were shocked to see the barns being used as makeshift porta-potties, with marathoning ladies squatting right next to each other out in the open under the “shelter” of the barns. We soon realized why when we saw the lines for the porta potties. But we couldn’t bring ourselves to squat next to strangers, so we queued up to relieve ourselves in porta-potty land.

While waiting, we chatted with this lean runner, a man in his 60’s from California. We asked if he’d done Boston before and he told us that he had, several times. At the end of last year’s race, he’d actually had heart attack symptoms and was rushed to Mass General. But he was back again. Hmmm… where were those buses again??

Lisa and I in Athlete's Village

Me in Athlete's Village

35 minutes later, when we’d finally used the facilities, we only had about 20 minutes before the race started and we had to get rid of our bags. All runners are given bright yellow bags to carry extra snacks, water, a change of clothes for the end, etc, to Hopkinton. Once at the Athlete’s Village, everyone put our bags on buses numbered by our race bibs so that we could pick them up at the end of the race, just after we crossed the finish line.

Everyone except Dana Farber runners, that is. Being a Dana Farber team member, I had to take my bag to a separate location, away from Athlete’s Village – and no one seemed to know where that location was. We wandered around and around, hoping to find this mysterious “Dana Farber refuge” but nothing. I was almost in tears, thinking I’d have to carry this enormous bag through the marathon. Lisa, my running partner, tried to calm me down, saying maybe we could give it to her boyfriend Jeremy at mile 6. But I didn’t want to carry it 6 miles. This wasn’t how I’d envisioned the start of the Boston Marathon, filled with stress and anxiety.

By now, I was sprinting through the streets of Hopkinton trying to find the location when I miraculously saw a familiar face amongst the 28,000 or so - Heather Hagerty, a fellow runner and race director I’d been meeting with about doing a lung cancer 5K. She pointed me in the right direction, but when I got there, they said the Dana Farber bus had left. I was devastated. Luckily, a woman kindly agreed to take the bag and leave it in the Marriott’s lost and found in Copley Square. The Marriott was where we were all supposed to meet post-race, and the only problem with this new plan was that the bus that my bag had missed was going to be near the finish line, and in it was a poncho to identify me as a Dana Farber runner so that a volunteer could escort my exhausted self to the Marriot. Without that poncho, I’d have to make my way to the hotel myself. Oh well. You can’t have it all.

Next, we had to find the start line, and sadly, these Dana Farber volunteers didn’t seem to know where it was. We wandered back into the streets of Hopkinton, just following anyone who seemed to be walking in the right direction until we found it. There, Lisa and I realized that our different bib numbers put us in different corrals - which meant that technically we couldn’t run together. We weren’t ready for another snag in our plans, so Lisa covered her bib number with her arms, we snuck into the first corral we saw and stood there innocently til the race began.

With the lost bus delay, then the impossible to find Dana Farber area and long-gone bus debacle, I hadn’t had time to tie my shoes properly, and we suddenly found ourselves in this corral, inching quickly towards the start line. I hurriedly re-tied my laces – but a little too tight. “I’ll fix it later” I thought. There wasn’t a later.

Before we knew it, the race began!

Mile 1: We’d done this before during the 21 miler training run, but I hadn’t remembered the beginning being quite so steep. Woooo!! This was fun!

Mile2-5: Here, we were just getting our sea legs, hitting 10 minute even splits at each mile which was about 15 seconds faster per mile than we’d planned, but we thought “We can slow down later.” Those are the famous last words of every marathoner!! We actually thought we were slowing down, but we weren't really. Adrenaline and momentum were moving us quickly through the downhill miles. During these miles, I was able to look at my bracelet at every mile and think very coherent thoughts about each person I was running for. Nora, Vartan, Irene, etc…

At one point, Lisa needed to use the porta-potty and since I was still feeling good, I had to decide whether to wait for her or not. I decided I would, but probably not if she needed to go again because I had a time goal. We'd already discussed that this was each of our own races and that we'd respect each other's decision to stay or go depending on how we felt. At the same time, I wanted to stay with her as long as possible.

At around mile 5 or so, we went through an area where someone was playing the Elvis song “I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You.” That was one of my mother’s favorite songs and one that we sang together several times at karaoke, so it immediately made me think of her. During the entire race, there were only a few songs that I heard, and that was one of them.

Mile 6: Framingham Train Depot. This was our first spot to see someone we knew. Lisa’s boyfriend Jeremy, her Dad and family were expected here. We were so excited to see them because for some reason, those had been 6 long miles. Anxious miles. Quick hug and a wave, and we were off again!

The next few miles were really boring and not terribly attractive. I’d miscalculated when I thought I’d see my old high school friend Erin, and thought I’d missed her, but was happy when we saw her (with a sign with my name on it!) around mile 10. I also saw my old college friend Heather Riley. So cool to see these old friends. I haven’t seen them in over 12 years and the first time I see them again is on the Boston Marathon course.

Once out of Natick, we headed towards Wellesley – which we’d been told would be unlike anything we’d ever experienced before. About half a mile before Wellesley College, we heard this roar. And then we realized it was the Wellesley girls. Thousands and thousands of screaming – and I mean screaming – college girls lined the streets and most had signs to the effect of “Free kisses from Wellesley Girls” It was SUCH a rush, and it was unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

I was hoping to see my Aunt Susan in Wellesley Center, but never saw her, so we just kept trucking.

Somewhere between Wellesley and Route 128, Lisa needed to go to the loo again. This time, there was no question of whether I’d stop or not. I was stopping. Not to use the facilities, but to stretch for a few minutes. I was grateful for her bladder’s needs. Even though we were only at mile 14 or so of a 26.2 mile race, I was already tightening up and needed some time to stretch. For whatever reason, we were both really feeling it after Wellesley and were trying to snap out of it. We ate more goo, thought of our inspirations for the race, but it was tiring. Exhausting, really.

That’s one of the weird things about marathons. 14 miles during a training run can be piece of cake, but the same distance during a marathon can feel like 100 miles. At this point in the race – which had been mostly downhill – I was zonked. I think it’s mostly nerves and adrenaline and all kinds of other things going on (4 hours of sleep the night before) but I knew it would pass, and it did.

At about mile 16, when we were at the 128 freeway, Lisa was falling behind a little bit and that’s where we separated. I knew she'd make it, but she had to do it at her own pace, as did I.

Within a mile, the Heartbreak Hills would begin. I knew that stretch was coming, and mentally started to prepare. It was really important to me to run the entire 4 mile stretch. I knew it would be hard, but I also knew with all of the hill training I’d been doing that I could do it. I saw the fire station in Newton approaching, saw Commonwealth Ave getting closer and revved up. I made the right turn and just kept going.

I’d been on that hill so many times before during training runs, but it seemed so different now. For one thing it was packed from beginning to end with spectators, so it was hard to tell where the hard parts were, where the “actual” heartbreak hill (the last of the 4 hills) began. I had some of my most personal and inspiring “in memory of” people lined up for this section, including my ex Evan, a Boston finisher, and my mom. They helped, but there were parts of this period where my mind was blank and I just kept thinking “keep going, keep going, don’t stop, don’t stop” – and that’s all I could muster.

Somehow, I made it through all 4 miles without having to walk. I dug deep, used all manner of mind tricks and crested the hill.

Once over the hill, I started to fade – and fast. I had one thing to keep me going, which was I knew I’d see Chuck at Boston College in his maroon BC jacket. Only problem was, everyone was wearing BC maroon. There were thousands of screaming BC kids urging us on – it was almost surreal. I was scanning the sea of maroon trying to pick Chuck out of the crowd, but never managed to spot him. I found out later, he was there, and had in fact waited 2 hours to see me. He managed to see Lisa, but missed me. At any rate, as I headed into Cleveland Circle, I was feeling relatively miserable – with 4.5 miles to go!

By now, I was fairly zombie-like and all of the spectators seemed kind of superfluous. They were screaming their heads off, but they faded into the background. At Washington Street, I saw my morning hills partner Beth which gave me momentary joy, but by the next block, I was back in pain again. I had to walk a few times, for maybe 30 seconds each time, but prodded myself back into a crawl-like run/jog. I kept thinking “Where’s mile 24??” I thought if I could get to mile 24, the end really would seem near. But it just wouldn’t come. I used one trick that Lisa had told me about, something she learned from an interview with British marathon champion Paula Radcliffe. Apparently Paula counts to 100 when times get tough, over and over again. I counted to 100 at least 4 times in the last 3 miles, just to have something to focus on, a goal to hit in my mind.

When I began this marathon-length tale of my experience, I mentioned that Lisa and I started a little bit too fast. In fact, we did the first half marathon at about 15 seconds per mile too fast which might not seem like a big deal – but I paid the price from about the end of Heartbreak Hill til mile 24.5.

Trudging along, I had just re-started my engine from one of those recovery walks when I saw a couple of cheering blondes to my left – it was my Aunt Karen and cousin Emilee! They really did lift my spirits.

Before I knew it, mile 24 had arrived… then I entered Kenmore Square- elation and more cheering crowds – including tons of BU kids. I wasn’t sprinting, but was holding my own just plod/jogging along.

Then, finally, mile 25. I knew my Dad, sister Jenny and her boyfriend would be near the finish, at the corner of Hereford and Boylston Streets, about 4 blocks from the end. Dad is notoriously early, someone you can count on to be there when you ask him to be. Sure enough, there they were, waving signs and smiling. This was a great moment. I turned left to Boylston and now it was mine. The finish line really was near. Unlike some finish lines this one wasn’t too far once it was in sight… going, going, gone.

I finished!

I also wasn’t as immediately in pain as I sometimes am, but it most certainly crept up on me. By the time I got my chip off and received my medal, 5 minutes or so after crossing the finish line, tightness began to set in and a mind-blowing cold. The temperatures felt at least 20 degrees cooler than when we’d started and the winds were unreal. Added to the fact that I had no idea how to get to the Marriott without my Dana Farber poncho and escort, I was a sight to behold. Some officials actually asked if I’d like a wheelchair, but I managed to hobble to the Marriott where I promptly received a post-race massage. I couldn’t stop trembling, so they decided to check my blood pressure, but everything was fine. 110 over 60. Just like it always is when I’m not running a marathon. I was just cold.

I left the runner’s area after a cup of hot soup and met up with Dad, Jenny, Eddie and Chuck, who’d all gotten to know each other while waiting for me to come out.

Me and Dad after the race

Jenny and I after the race

Pictures were taken, then off to an impromptu post-race meal with Aunt Karen and cousins Emilee and Jessica.

Me, Aunt Karen, Emilee and Jessica

At the end of the day, I was so exhausted. I took a bath (not an ice bath) and literally fell asleep in the tub! I finally got out, crawled into bed at 9pm – and woke at 5am to pack for my trip to Dallas!

All in all, it was a great experience and I’ll definitely be doing it again next year. Oh, and my time was 4:41, which was 11 minutes slower than my “goal time” but 12 minutes faster than my previous best – so not bad for me!

I apparently came in 20,000 ish out of 22,000ish which was a little depressing until Lisa reminded me that 28,000 registered!! That means that 6,000 didn’t even finish. I felt better about that! Also, it IS the Boston Marathon, with mostly qualifiers… so it’s ok if I was in the bottom percentile.

Lisa and I after the marathon (ps, Lisa did awesome!)

So far, I’ve raised $3761.20 and am hoping to get that rounded up to a nice neat $4,000 (or more) so if anyone has some spare cash lying around, hasn't donated yet or just would like to donate to a great cause, my fundraising page is still open. Here’s the link again:

http://www.runDFMC.org/juliag2009

Thank you to EVERYONE who supported me - either with a donation or with words of encouragement. I know my mother would have been proud. I just know it. I plan on doing it again next year - but next year, for a different charity, hopefully one that benefits lung cancer 100%. That's one of my big goals for this year, to start a Boston Marathon Lung Cancer Team. I hope to have all of your support next year - and maybe a few of you on the team???!!?

Love to you all... and stay posted. I'll be blogging about the summit in Dallas soon as well!

2009-04-19T19:05:00.000-07:00

Well, this is it. The night before the marathon! Today, I went down to the expo with my dad and then Chuck met us for the Dana Farber pasta party. Bill Rodgers made a special appearance and previous three-time women's winner Uta Pippig was on hand, as well as our very own coach Jack Fultz, the 1976 Boston Marathon winner.

All were inspiring, but nothing was as moving as the slideshow tribute to the children at Dana Farber who'd lost their battle to cancer this year - and then a tribute to the patient partners - the children currently battling.
Hundreds of children gathered on the stage, all who have been dealt the cruel hand of cancer at such a young age, with so much innocence. I feel for these children, as I do for the adult cancer patients who've unfairly been given the grueling test of cancer.

Tomorrow, those children will be waiting for us at mile 25, as we crest the hill that takes us into Kenmore Square, and if they don't inspire us to push towards the finish, I don't know what will.

The above picture is at about 5 am the morning of the 2006 Nike Women's Marathon, the only marathon of mine that my mother was able to watch. I wanted to put that picture up today because it shows us together, side by side on marathon morning.

Even though her physical form won't be there tomorrow, she will most definitely be by my side all day, from the morning when I board the bus to Hopkinton, til the moment when I cross the finish line on Boylston street.

Here are the others that I'll be running for tomorrow:

Jean-Guy Pelletier
Justine Caranto
Nora W. Scanlon
Mollie Bishop
Vartan Aleksandrian
Irene Chevalier
Pat Mullin
The Hong Family
Jerry Sherman
William Burke
Ann Schwartz
Theresa R. Picciotti
Gail M. Berry
Ariel Hart
Susan Levinsky
Evan Hawkins
Diane Legg
Geraldine Maxon
Marilyn Forrest
Dale Gaynor
William Mahoney
Emil Matson
Emily Matson
Paul E. Beaulieu
Kevin Brummett
Helen Richards
Vincent St. John
Ann Murfitt
Virginia Garner
Van Garner
Matson/Hopkins Family

Now I've got to get to bed... up at 5. The weather's looking pretty good. 48 degrees, overcast. There's a possibility of some headwinds, but no possibility of heat- so I'm grateful for that!

I'll post my update as soon as possbile...
Thank you to EVERYONE who's supported me on this journey....
It's meant the world to me.

Love,
Julia

My Singlet -and the Three Day Countdown!

2009-04-17T06:54:00.000-07:00

I made my singlet last night and here it is! I didn't inherit my mother's crafty genes, so it came out a little "blue" but it's still fine and I think she'd approve. But she definitely would have done it better. Heck, she probably could have embroidered or stamped the whole thing. Anyway, here it is.... and here I am! I did my last real run this morning around the river and when I saw the Ellison building of MGH I said a little prayer for Mom. Monday's for her, all the way.

Today was the last team run before Boston!

2009-04-11T08:58:00.000-07:00

Well, this is it. Were on our own from here on out... Today, Lisa and I (pictured) ran our last 8 miles with Fitcorp - the last team run we'll do before Boston. I was so impressed with Lisa. She's come such a long way. When we started, we did 8 miles at about a minute slower per mile and she was in agony. She did this 10 min mile pace like we were taking a little stroll through Boston - piece of cake!

Since the 21 miler, we've been in the "taper" which is when you are supposed to do nothing new, nothing strenuous and gently reduce your weekly mileage and your effort. the idea is that as of the 21 miler, you're not getting any better... and you don't want to get any worse - ie injured!

For the past 5 months, we've been so lucky with the weather. (I know, you think I'm crazy.) Although it's been bone chillingly cold on some days, it's always been sunny. Today was the only day it rained. Luckily it was a light rain, and as Lisa pointed out, it gave the city a scent of "sea air" which reminded her of her Nan. She's running the marathon in her Nan's memory, and we think that her Nan's been helping to keep the weather good. Today's sea air was Nan saying hello.

Anyway, I've got a ton to do to get ready for Easter tomorrow. I'm having my first official family holiday with two of my mom's sisters and their families and a few friends and neighbors as well. It won't be as crazy as my old Thanksgivings at Furfax, (hopefully a little less wine-sodden), but hopefully I can recreate some of that great spirit that was always there.

And today, I'll be finishing off my marathon shirt. you'll all see what that means soon when I post a sneak peek here!

Love,
Julia

21 Mile pics

2009-03-30T10:42:00.000-07:00

Here are some pictures of Lisa and I from the "Joints in Motion" team we joined on Saturday to run 21 miles. Fitcorp and Dana Farber weren't doing the marathon course, so we jumped on a different bandwagon to run with thousands of other charity groups (including Team in Training, my old love!!)

Here are a few shots. A group pic where I'm in the middle, and then one of me and Lisa (she's in pink) but I'm mostly obscured by some big guy. Oh well.

For more details of the run itself, see the previous post.

Running With Angels

2009-03-28T14:19:00.000-07:00

Today I ran the first 21 miles of the Boston Marathon ... and it was amazing!

I've been warned so many times about the downhill start and how that destroys your legs so that by the time you reach the hills at around mile 17, you're anhialated, destroyed and useless.

So, I took it slow, tried to be light on my feet, and by the time I got to those hills, they really weren't that bad at all. I mean, they were challenging, but they weren't insurmountable. Not at all.

Maybe that had something to do with the team of angels I had on my side.

Now, I'm not into mysticism or ghosts or even religion per se, but I am spiritual - and I had a spiritual experience today.

So to explain a little bit, "Heartbreak Hill" can also be described as a series of hills that culminates in one very large one at the end. I had been on them before, as those who've read this blog before know, but never at this precise time in a run. So I was extremely nervous about being able to make it up and over all of them without having to stop.

I thought it might be a good idea to call in support. When I run on April 20th, I'll have a bunch of names on my wrist with different mile markers, people I'll be running for during different points in the race. For this training run, I didn't do that, so I decided to make an impromptu list of people to run in honor of... and really, they were running "with" me.

When I approached the first hill, I called on the person who'd know the most what I was going through at that exact moment, my college boyfriend Evan. He ran Boston at least 3 times and his best time was 2:52 - a time I'll never even come close to. He'd been on that very spot many many times, and in fact, his ashes are scattered in Hopkinton, near the start of the Boston Marathon. I called on him to help me up that hill, to give me the strength and courage, and he did.

The next hill wasn't too bad, and I had my grandfather Emil in mind. He was a calm, thoughtful and quiet man and I looked to his quiet strength to help see me through.

For the next one, a little more challenging and a little longer, I knew I needed an ace. So I chose my Aunt Dale. She's my dad's little sister, and she died from Ovarian cancer 5 years ago. She was a no nonsense, firecracker of a woman and I had her piercing voice in my head "C'mon, Julia. What are you waiting for? Get up that hill!" I could almost feel her slap my butt to help me climb this challenging one.

The next one was also not too bad and I thought of my best friend Anna's dad Victor. He was a Russian immigrant and worked very hard to give his family a good life here, and like my grandfather, he too was a man of few words. At least in English to me. I thought of him and Anna and Anna's mom Zina and their combined strength as a family. Then, my friend Helen and the entire Hong family came into my head and I visualized them all standing behind me, pushing me up.

The parts that were actually as challenging as the hills were the long stretches of flat between the hills and during those long stretches, I called on my Great Aunt Jerry. My grandmother died when I was 7, and Aunt Jerry was like a surrogate grandmother to me. She was patient and kind, constant and steadfast, and I needed some of that kind of strength. Not flashy hills kind of strength, but the kind of strength that keeps you going even when things aren't at their most exciting. I also knew that if she was still here (and she'd be 90, which is hard to believe!) she would be right out there on the course to support me - even if she had to be there in a wheelchair.

The last hill, which is technically Heartbreak, I was saving for my mother. I could almost see her smiling ruefully at me, saying "Great. You saved the hardest one for me!" I didn't just want her to push me up the hill. I wanted her to hold my hand and run up the hill with me. I envisioned us both holding hands and gliding up to the top of that very, very long hill like we did back at MGH. I said to her "You'll need the practice today because you'll be running with me a LOT on April 20th." And it was so weird. I actually could see us doing it, holding hands, and it was as if she was helping me up the hill.

When I reached the top, after having had contact wtih all of those special people, my "heartbreak team", I felt invincible. I know I'm ready for Boston.

Anything can happen on 4.20. Heat, cold, rain, a sore muscle. But I'll have my team and so many others there with me, and it's going to be ok.

Love,
Julia

21 Miles Tomorrow!!!

2009-03-27T11:33:00.001-07:00

Tomorrow morning, they're busing us out to Hopkinton and leaving us there.

It's up to us to run back to BC where our cars (and sanity) will be waiting for us!

This is it. The "long run" and our chance to see what it's really like to run the Boston Marathon. Well, the first 21 miles of it anyway.

Lisa and I are running with a huge group helmed by the Arthritis Foundation that buses people to Hopkinton so they can experience the highs and lows of this challenging course. A practice run, if you will.

I ran a little too hard this week, starting with that super fast 12 miler on Saturday, then a killer track session with Somervile Road Runners on Tuesday, pilates Wednesday morning and pretty intense hill repeats Thursday morning with Beth.

My quads are a little achy and that's not the best way to start a 21 mile run, but I'm just going to take it easy. It's not a race. It's a practice run.

Now, off to bed.

One Month From Today....

2009-03-23T18:03:00.001-07:00

Four weeks from today is the big day - the Boston Marathon. It's like a wedding day, prom night, first day at school. I've been practicing, fundraising, learning, reading and getting psyched - and it's all coming to fruition in a month.

I don't know what I'm going to do on April 21st. Oh, wait a minute, yes I do. I'll be on a plane to Dallas to the Lung Cancer Advocacy Summit! But then... after that... it will be weird not to be training for Boston since it's been such a huge part of my life for the past 5 months.

Well, I'll find another goal. I'll worry about that then.

For now, it's face forward, feet forward, looking ahead to April 20th!

Sonya Kicked my Butt!

2009-03-23T08:27:00.000-07:00

Saturday, I ran 12 miles with my friend Sonya, who I met when my mom was in her final weeks at Mass General. By that time, she couldn't speak, couldn't eat and was pretty uncomfortable, to say the least. There was little that brought her comfort, but of course, people wanted to bring her something... do something to make her feel better.

Her co-workers asked if there was something she might like, so I suggested a manicure and pedicure, not really knowing how that would materialize. The hospital wouldn't let her leave her room and I couldn't find anyone who'd come to her room. Mom had always had gorgeous nails and I knew that she'd enjoy some pampering. Denise Hurley, one of my mom's co-workers, somehow found Sonya Pelletier, the most compassionate, sweet, nurturing aesthetician who just so happens to specialize in healing treatments, particularly for the very ill, who otherwise can't get out to the salon.

Mom definitely fit that category.

I can safely say that the afternoon that Sonya spent with us was one of the best she had in the last month of her life. She did mom's nails (and mine!) and was just so soothing and kind... she stayed for 4 hours, and even some of mom's other co-workers who'd stopped by at their lunch hour stayed for hours longer than they'd planned to because it was such a special time.

Well, that's how Sonya and I met and since then, we've become great friends! We discovered that we have a lot in common, including running! We've done some races together and a couple of long runs, and even though she's been too busy to train for Boston, she's contemplating jumping in as a bandit and decided to do the 12 miler with me.

Let me just say that Sonya's marathon PR is 4:10 and mine is 4:53, so she's a little bit faster than me. She has a definite "can do" attitude, so I wasn't going to slow down - or slow her down! I knew it was "only" 12 and not 18, so I decided to just go for it and run faster than I normally do.

Well, I ended up beating my best ever half marathon time on a MUCH hillier course than any half marathon I've ever done, and almost did as fast as my fastest 10K pace. She kicked my butt! I will say, that the final hill up Beacon Street by the State House.. well, my hill training worked and I barreled up that one before her. But without that hill, she would have murdered me - and that's with practically no training, compared with my dilligent months of training.

I'm psyched because it gave me some confidence that I can do that pace for that length of time. And, of course, it was fun to run with her. Gorgeous day, beautiful route that she'd never run. It was bliss.

We've been SO lucky, weather-wise. Even though it was a snowy winter, the Saturday runs have been mostly brilliantly sunny (if a little cold) and absolutely gorgeous! I can't wait for Marathon Monday!

My Pilates Past

2009-03-15T18:10:00.001-07:00

As many of you know, I'm relatively new to running. I ran my first marathon in March 2005, and before that, I hadn't run seriously since high school field hockey. I did other things. I was an aerobics junkie in college and in I hiked a lot in LA. And, while everyone else was jumping on the yoga bandwagon, I was lengthening and strengthening with Sebastien Lagree, pilates instructor to the stars...

Sebastien Lagree - T.V. Guide Interview from Sebastien Lagree on Vimeo.

I haven't done pilates in a long time, and while one might think "she's training for a marathon - she must be in kick-ass shape" I'm only in one kind of shape. I do the same exercise over and over again. Sure, I add some hills on Thursday mornings and have gotten a little bit of speedwork with the track sessions I've attended, but otherwise, it's just running...

Today, I decided to change that. I went with Lisa to Charlestown Yoga studio where they also have a pilates class. It was awesome! New areas were definitely challenged - like my hips and core! There was a funny moment, though when I realized my running muscles are in pretty good shape. We did something that was all about the quads and the instructor was shocked that we weren't shaking and quaking. I could have held that position for hours, because I've got quads of steel with all of the pavement I've been pounding.

Anyway, I'm psyched to add another type of training to the mix. Maybe it will help shave off some of this weird hip fat I seem to have gained. Maybe not! Hopefully it will help give me a stronger core to make the marathon even easier and more fun!

As a special treat, here's a video clip of Sebastian the French Adonis who taught me to be lean and mean and how to have a (his words not mine) "tight ass." It was a fun class. They were glamorous days, with Jewel as a fellow classmate some days and random TV stars you knew but couldn't name on other days, all just doing their thing. LA and the glamour. How I miss it, sometimes.

Here's Sebastian again. Enjoy!

The State House - and 14.7 miles

2009-03-14T14:26:00.000-07:00

Most of the runs I do with the Fitcorp Training Group involve The State House because that's the "finish line," so to speak. After whatever mileage we've logged, we always end by climbing the steep slope of Beacon Street next to the Common, right to the crest, where the State House sits. Bit of State House trivia: The main entrance beneath the dome is called The Bulfinch Entrance, and it's now closed (presumably to save wear and tear on historic floors, etc.) The entrance that's actually in use is called - and I kid you not - General Hooker Entrance. Guess the Regular Pimps use another door.

Back to the training blog: Today was 14.7 and it was pretty good... pretty easy and a beautiful day. Lisa had some trouble with her foot (poor girl!) but we both finished off and had a delicious Chai Latte at Starbucks as our reward.

I sent out a ton of fundraising emails late last night and so far have only had one donation in response (Thanks Susan Nelson!) I guess I need to be a little bit more patient, but I was hoping to make that $5000 goal. I'll keep trying. I know when I get fundraising emails and letters, I usually think "Oh yes, I want to donate something" and forget until I'm reminded - sometimes several times! I was going to skip actual fundraising letters this time around because people seem so email savvy, but the thing is that literally 50% of all of my previous fundraising dollars came from letters, so maybe people like donating that way. I might try that if the emails don't work.

That's about it for now. Hoping to drag Chuck out to see Dirty Dancing tonight. He agreed, against his better nature. So if they have tickets at the box office, we'll be having the time of our lives.
Love,
Julia

Morning Runs Along the Charles

2009-03-13T07:56:00.001-07:00

First of all, that's not me in that picture. It might look like me a little bit, but it's actually my friend Aileen. I met Aileen as a result of randomly sitting next to her friend on a flight from LA to Boston. The friend realized that Aileen and I had something in common: we had both lost a parent to lung cancer. When I first moved to Boston, Aileen and I had drinks and talked about doing stuff together, lung cancer advocacy stuff. Maybe one day we will.

But, I haven't seen Aileen since then, about 9 months ago. This is the weird story of why I have her picture: A few minutes ago, I was looking online for a picture of the Charles River to illustrate this blog entry about my morning runs around the Charles. During my search, I found this one of Aileen! Apparently, she ran the Boston Marathon for Dana Farber back in 2006 and the Globe did a story about charity runners.. including her! This is the Globe's photo (hope they don't sue me.) Small world.

So, this is sort of what it looks like when I run in the mornings. Except I run in the opposite direction, from Cambridge to Boston and back. Now, this winter, I wasn't able to run around the river as often as I wanted to because of the weather and had to run on the treadmill (ugh), but on decent days (like this morning!) I do either a 4 or 6 mile run around the river, depending on whether I run across the Longfellow Bridge (aka, the Salt and Pepper Bridge) or the Mass Ave Bridge. (Aileen is on the Mass. Ave Bridge, btw.)

I had wanted to show you a picture that included the Ellison Building at Mass General, because that was one of the reasons I wanted to talk about these morning runs. When I do the 4 mile loop (Salt and Pepper Bridge loop), I have a clear view of Ellison as I run across the bridge. Once across, I run by Mass General, the "Jail" hotel, aka the Liberty Hotel, and the Cox Radiation Center, where my mother had both full brain radiation and radiation to the tumor on her lung. I literally run right past the same entrance that we used, and that she and her friends (and my friends) entered as they took her for her visits.

At first, it was sort of weird to know that I will always have a clear view of that building, actually a clear view of her room, the one from which we could see those incredible views in the previous post. But now, it's actually comforting. I'll admit, it was not comforting to have to pass the cemetery where she's buried every time I left her house in Lawrence to get on the highway. I couldn't have done that for the rest of my life. But the hospital offers hope, and also by the time I get there, I'm on a total endorphin high and everything is great in the world!

When I left LA, one of the things I knew I'd miss most, along with my friends, was the Silver Lake Reservoir. I'd so gotten used to great runs around the man-made lake in the middle of the city... a 4.2 loop that included a perfect warm up and cool down walk with those skyscraper hills on Marathon Street.

Now, I have the Charles River. Like hundreds of other Boston runners every day (maybe thousands?), I run around the river, using the bridges as markers of how far I'm willing to go (or how much time I have)

Today I only had time for the Salt and Pepper Bridge, a little over 4 miles, which is fine because tomorrow we do 14.7. I'm definitely on a "pink cloud" with my training right now. Loving it and only wishing I could wake up earlier so I could do a little bit more.

Maybe next week.
Til next time -
Love,
Julia

Phillips 21

2009-03-12T19:31:00.000-07:00

Last night I went back to "Phillips 21" for the first time since December 8, 2007. That was the night my mother died. And Phillips 21 is the floor on which my mom spent the majority of her time at Mass General. It's where I slept on the couch next to her for almost two months while the cancer took over her body.

It's where she had incredibly compassionate, top-level care from some of the best nurses in the world and where she received countless visitors, endless floral tributes, piles of beautiful get-well cards. It's where she spent her last months, the worst time of her life, but the staff and the place made the best of the very worst situation.

I was there because I'm on the Patient and Family Advisory Council for the Cancer Center at Mass General (PFAC). We often meet with different staff members, and this time it was to meet with the nursing staff on Phillips 21 because the floor has recently been established as a dedicated oncology floor. That means that the majority of the patients who stay there will be cancer patients. Some of them will be very very sick like my mother, and need the kind of care that she did. Others will be there because the chemotherapy regimen they're on requires an overnight stay, or perhaps a week's stay. The nurses have been trained to treat cancer patients specifically and deliver chemotherapy, etc.

I didn't know if any of "our" nurses would still be there. I'd been told many have left because they didn't want to be oncology-specific. Some retired, others just moved on. I was hoping to see a few, and I did.

The first was Michelle, a young African-American nurse who went to Brookline High, which is where my grandmother went. She was always so patient and never condescending towards my mom, incredibly skilled and professional, and with a sense of humor that always hit the mark. She and my mother laughed together and Mom was always so much more relaxed when Michelle was her nurse for the day. I would venture to guess that Michelle was my mother's favorite. I saw Michelle first, while she was working, but she later joined us all in the lounge for coffee and cookies. We hugged. I could tell she remembered everything. My mother's extensive, intense stay at Phillips 21 was remembered by quite a few people.

I then spoke with two of the older nurses, both of whom had gone to Woodstock, believe it or not, like my Mom (one made it 5 miles from Woodstock and turned back because of the rain and mud.) We had met these older nurses when Mom was first admitted to Phillips 21. That was when she could still speak, and I remember they all bonded over some shared experiences. I think there was a mutual respect because they were baby boomers as well as a silent recognition that although my mother was the patient and they were the nurses, it could be any of them in her shoes. They'd been around long enough to know that. One of those older ladies happened to be the one who'd initially helped me decorate the room with the Christmas tree... and unbeknownst to her, Christmas trees were illegal at MGH! My decorating escapades had apparently not been forgotten...

Sheila's in her late 30's, a good Boston Irish girl, one of those no-nonsense, down to earth types. A crustacian on the outside with a heart of gold shining through. She definitely remembered us and seemed moved to see me again. I was certainly moved to see her.

Then there was Lisa. She was my one of my mother's primary nurses when we came back from Youville in our second stint on Phillips, and when it was probably obvious to the entire nursing staff (if not to me) that we were essentially there for hospice. I remember that she actually requested to take care of my mother. She was one who tried never to show emotion, but sometimes I could tell that she was very moved.

During our second stay on Phillips 21, Mom was really sick and needed a ton of care, different things at least several times an hour, for weeks. Lisa never complained. None of them did, even when I made them help me change my mother out of her pajamas (no hospital gowns for her!) and into her day clothes and back into pajamas, every single day. There were always wires and tubes to remove and re-attach, but they always came and helped me, twice a day, for two months. I have to add that my mother rarely complained either, and that is pretty incredible.

I had been really nervous about going back, worried that I might fall apart, but I didn't. Even though it was the most horrendous few months of our lives and the end result was the realization of what had always been my worst nightmare, there were some blessings about the experience. One, Mom did have time - time to see how many people loved her and wanted to show it - day after day to visit, send flowers, to call. And specifcally, she and I were able to spend time together - some of the most special time we've ever had.

Taking care of your mother in that way, when she's increasingly helpless and the roles are not only reversed, they're incomprehensible - is difficult, yes. But it's also a gift. And I hate to sound trite, but I mean it was an incredible gift to sleep next to her every night and know that I was helping to make her more comfortable and that there was no one else she wanted there but me (although there were plenty of others she loved and wanted there too). I felt a protectiveness over her that I don't think I'll feel again unless I have a child - or maybe a spouse who becomes ill. We shared things we'd never shared before- some things I could have lived without, for sure - but others that couldn't have happened any other way.

And as for Phillips 21, well it's where the Red Sox stay, the Celtics, The Kennedys. If my mother was going to be incarcerated into any hospital and told she was too sick to go home, she couldn't have been in a better place - or with better people.

There's part of me that feels like I should be over this already, but there's another part of me that doesn't think 'll ever get over it. And I don't think I want to. I don't want to forget my mom, and by continuing to write about it, to work on the MGH council, to advocate for lung cancer, to run for her, I don't forget, I won't and I can't.

She'll always be a part of my life. I will always do something to honor her. Right now, I'm doing many different things... not the least of which is running the Boston Marathon.
I can't wait to run it for her on April 20th.

18.3 miles

2009-03-09T08:49:00.001-07:00

I did my penultimate longest training run this weekend, 18.3 miles. I ran with the Fitcorp group, from the State House to Chestnut Street in Newton and back.

After a grueling winter, we were blessed with fantastic Spring-like weather so the run was in 55 degree temps, perfect for running. It gave us a taste of what Marathon Monday might feel like. All winter long, we've been training in freezing, snowy temps, but the likelihood of that kind of weather on April 20th is pretty slim. It could be anywhere from 40-80 degrees. How's that for unpredictability?

I'm happy to report that Saturday's run was pretty uneventful. Except that my friend Lisa, who's been battling some pretty intense knee injuries all season-long, was able to do the entire 18 with me! And another good thing is that this run, like the most of the other long runs was done at my "goal" pace for Boston which is about a 10-ish minute mile. My goal is to complete the marathon in about 4:30. Since it's Boston and the hills are pretty killer, I will be happy just to finish, but I'm at least at the target that I'd like to be at now, which is comforting.

We did run on Heartbreak Hill, like we often do during these runs, but at around mile 9 of our run - not 19 as it will be in April. At mile 18 of Saturday's run, when I was climbing up Beacon Street towards the State House finish, I definitely felt the pain, the burn, and could contemplate "hitting the wall" - but luckily the wall was so close I was able to stop just before hitting it.

Hopefully, I'll be able to run through that wall on April 20th. It always comes, and that's where the mental part of marathoning comes into play. Once you've done 16 or 18 in a training run, 26 really isn't that much further, physically speaking. 21 is even closer (and we're doing 21 in three weeks!) So getting to the finish line of Boston will really be all mental after about mile 18... as it always is. Luckily, I'll have the support of friends and family as well as the people I'm running for to get me through - and of course, my mom.

One thing that's definitely happening how - which always happens to me and usually to a lot of women training for marathons - is that although my running mileage is high, I feel as though I'm putting on weight. It seems crazy, but it's true. So I'm going to try altering my diet a little bit so I can shed a few pounds before April 20th. If I can be just a little bit lighter (like 3-4 pounds), the run will be a little bit easier.

Anyway, not too much else to report in terms of the run. Made it through, only a teeny bit sore, and can't wait for the next one!

In other news, I'm going to MGH this Wednesday night for my monthly PFAC meeting (Patient and Family Advisory Council) and we're making a special trip up to Phillips 21, which is the floor that my mother was mostly treated on, and where she spent her last days. When she was there, it was just a private floor, but it's since been re-dedicated as a cancer ward and the nurses want to meet us, since we're PFAC for the Cancer Center. It's probably going to be hard to be there again, but in some ways, I think it's important to revisit that place and it will give me a chance to remember and honor my mom. In a strange way, it might be comforting, since it's the last place I spent time with my mom- and spent so much intense time with her literally living side by side in Phillips 2120.

OK... back to the grindstone. For those of you who are reading this, I didn't send new fundraising emails yet -but I will! Running 18 took all of Saturday and Sunday was all about grocery shopping for this healthy new eating regime I'm going to try...

I'm not worried though. I know my "peeps" are going to come through.
:)

Love,
Julia

Here Comes The Sun

2009-03-06T09:02:00.000-08:00

As some of you can probably tell, I'm sort of playing catch-up with this blog. I've been busy and to be honest, some of my running is pretty mundane, so I don't always feel it's necessary to bore you with the details of every step I take. (only sometimes!)

But this blog wasn't designed to be entirely about the marathon training process. The main reason I'm running the Boston Marathon is because of my mom. As most of you know, I lost my mom to lung cancer about a year and a half ago and I am determined to do something about this terrible disease.

As my friends and family have probably noticed, I haven't been terribly aggressive about my fundraising for Dana Farber. I've sent out one email, that's it. Well, that's about to change. I'll be writing letters and sending a second email out this weekend. Part of the reason I haven't been fundraising my butt off is that I know I've got amazing friends and family who will step up to the plate and support me. I feel so lucky and so grateful for that. And can't wait to see those donations pour in!
;)

But, back to the title of this blog. I wanted to share one of those "mystical" moments that happens occasionally where I'm reminded of my mother completely out of the blue. It has nothing to do with running, but it's related to the reason I'm running at all, so I thought I'd share it.

When my Aunt Karen and I were putting together the tribute video for my mom's funeral, along with Bob Deschene from Raytheon (who actually did all of the manual work), it was a crazy, frenzied couple of hours during a busy, hectic time. I had never planned the soundtrack to my mother's life up til then, and had a pretty short time to do it.

We ended up choosing the song "Here Comes The Sun" as the first song. It's the one that plays during her baby pictures and pictures of her early childhood. I've always thought it was the perfect song to start with and now, whenever I hear it, I immediately think of those smiling baby pictures that capture the essence of her spirit.

Just a minute ago, while researching something for work, I realized that the song choice was more perfect than I could have imagined. When we chose it, I thought mostly of the Beatles' version, which, for reasons I'll explain shortly, does have meaning for Mom (and many other baby boomers!) But I didn't realize there was another version that was also immensely popular.

While researching songs for a quiz I'm writing for work about One Hit Wonders, I learned that Richie Havens did a version in 1971 that went to the top of the charts as well. Richie Havens has a special meaning for my mom.

As many of her friends and family know, Mom went to Woodstock. This is something that I've always thought would win her serious "cool" points with her grandchildren. It won her a few with me. Anyway, she didn't go to see Jimi Hendrix or Janice Joplin or any of the other headliners often associated with Woodstock. She went to see Richie Havens.

She didn't know that Woodstock was going to be "Woodstock." She heard about this great music festival in NY where Richie Havens was playing and was determined that she and her friend Patty had to go. They packed suitcases (yes, suitcases) and bummed a ride with two guy friends, but once they got there, they had to park miles and miles away. So they walked, with their suitcases (and tent.) The story goes on from there (the suitcases and tent were later abandoned) but she arrived in time to see her idol, Richie Havens, and to her, that was worth the price of admission. Little did she know that her love of that singer would help her become part of history.

Interestingly, Mom had a "connection" with the Beatles as well. She was most definitely a fan and named me after John Lennon's mother, Julia, who (unbeknownst to her) died on July 15th, the same day that I was born (but 16 years earlier). And my mother died on December 8th, the same day that John Lennon died, but 27 years after he was shot outside his apartment.

So I just had a major "Mom" moment and wanted to share it. That song has even more meaning to me now. Wish I could put a little music file in here. I can hear it now: "Doo doo doo doo. Here comes the sun..."

Til next time....
Love,
Julia

Boston.com article about snowy marathon training

2009-03-05T07:53:00.000-08:00

I loved this article that ran in today's Boston.com. I was actually out running yesterday morning around the river on terrain just like the pictures they used to illustrate this article!

Boston.com

By John Powers

The secret to running in snow, confides Bill Rodgers, is Yaktrax, a rubber and steel coils device that attaches to shoe bottoms to provide extra traction. "They're like tiny snowshoes," said the four-time Boston Marathon champion, who did an 8-mile training jaunt in Boxborough Monday after the storm had dumped a foot of white stuff. "What you do is, you adapt. You have to find a way around the winter as an obstacle."

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For thousands of local runners, this winter's nasty combination of snow and subfreezing temperatures has presented an unusual challenge for training for next month's 113th Marathon. But it hasn't kept them indoors. "Many of our members just put their heads down and truck through their miles out in the elements," said Mike McKechnie, president of the Cambridge Running Club, which has three dozen entrants in the field.

With race day less than seven weeks away, competitors need to build up an endurance base that will enable them to survive the world's most demanding 26-mile layout. "You have to get the miles in," said Erin Heslin, a Newtonville resident who runs for the Boston Athletic Association and coaches cross-country at Framingham High School. "You miss a long run and your whole training is off."

So competitors have been doing whatever it takes to get in their 100-plus miles a week. "Generally, the guys go out in whatever conditions pertain," said Bruce Davie, president of the Greater Boston Track Club, which will have between 15 and 20 athletes in the race.

Marathoners, who are obsessive by nature, hate missing workouts, even in arctic conditions. "A group of us call ourselves the Ice Road Runners, after the Ice Road Truckers TV show," said Rodgers, who has asked the BAA organizers to set aside a number for him just in case he gets the itch to race. "We're just as crazy as they are."

This season's volatile weather - snow followed by 50-degree temperatures followed by a deep freeze followed by a thaw followed by more snow - has demanded both flexibility and creativity from runners determined to get in their work. But they've been undeterred. "You just run through it no matter what," said Beth Coughlin, a Newton resident and BAA member who has run the race five times. "Nothing is going to stop you."

The experienced marathoners keep a sharp eye on the forecast, juggling training days and times. They use indoor tracks. They strap on Yaktrax and slosh through the snow. Or they cross-train. "On Monday, I went for a snowshoe run along the banks of the Charles," said Davie. "It's a great workout."

One way or another, runners are determined to get outdoors. "I'd rather run in ice and cold and freezing rain than run on the treadmill," said Coughlin. For serious distance racers, there's no substitute for pounding the pavement, particularly long sections of the hilly course from Hopkinton to Copley Square. "To train for the Boston Marathon, you run on the Boston Marathon course," said race director Dave McGillivray, who annually runs the route immediately after the event. "To run strategically here you have to know the course, and to know the course you have to run it."

That is why Ryan Hall and Kara Goucher, the top two American hopes in this year's race, made a point of lacing up for lengthy training runs when they were in town recently. Hall, who trains in Mammoth Lakes, Calif., went out last Sunday just as the weather was turning foul and ran the final 20 miles. Goucher, who lives in Portland, Ore., spent the better part of a week here last month when she was competing in the Reebok Boston Indoor Games and will get in more work on the course this month en route to the Lisbon Half Marathon.

"I was surprised at how much I liked it," said Goucher, who's bidding to be the first domestic women's victor in 24 years. "But I was also surprised at how much it upset my stomach. The course is so rolling."

For local club members, training on the course on Saturday and Sunday mornings has become an annual ritual. "That's when everyone comes out of the woodwork," said Coughlin. Last weekend, hundreds of runners could be spotted on the main routes of Framingham, Natick, Wellesley, and Newton - Routes 135, 16, and 30. "I took the commuter rail out to Ashland last Saturday and did the last 24 miles," said Bernie Muller, who lives in the Back Bay and runs along the river and the Emerald Necklace.

Since the roads along the course usually are the first ones plowed, they're an attractive option for runners wanting maximum mileage with minimum slipping. But the marathon route requires dodging traffic and avoiding ankle-busting potholes. "The biggest challenge is finding roadways and pathways that are safe to run on," said McGillivray.

The paths along the Charles are a favorite, as is the carriage road along Commonwealth Avenue. "I've been doing a lot of training on Heartbreak Hill," reported Heslin. "That's my best friend."

Parking garages also are popular, as are cemeteries. "They're always plowed," observed Coughlin.

Boston's storied marathon is unique, both in its quirky topography and its meteorology. During the past five years, the temperature at the start has ranged from 47 to 83 degrees, with the 2007 race held amid windswept rain. "Sometimes weather like this is the best preparation you can get," said Muller. "I told someone I was running with that I would hate to be coming here from Arizona."

The problem with an April marathon is that runners have to train during the winter. But Boston habitues wouldn't change the date any more than they'd level the Newton hills. "I wonder what it's like to run a fall marathon," mused Coughlin. "It would be a treat. But this is what makes this race special."

16 Miler or "Follow The Leader"

2009-03-05T07:23:00.000-08:00

I ran 16 miles a few weeks ago with the Dana Farber Marathon Team. I've mostly been training with The Fitcorp group out of Beacon Hill because my friend Lisa does, and it's become a habit, a nice habit where I've met some nice people. I was a little bit nervous to join the DFMC group because I knew I hadn't been a good teammate, more like a prodigal daughter being away for so long. They probably wouldn't recognize me.

Imagine my surprise when I walked into practice and our coach Jack Fultz greeted me with a cheery "Hi, Julia." He'd only met me once, about a week earlier when I showed up for a Somerville Road Runners track training at Tufts indoor track (where I didn't expect DFMC, but there they were.) Great memory!

When I first showed up, I did feel a bit like the new girl at school, with everyone gathering in their pre-run cliques. But by the end, the cameraderie of having finished 16 bonded us together.

We ran out of the Waltham branch of the Boston Sports Club which is on the Lincoln border, and most of the run was through the beautiful, hilly roads of Lincoln. I hadn't been to Lincoln probably since I was 6 or 7, when my Aunt Elaine lived there, but I had been to Waltham recently because there's a Raytheon facility there, and that's where I met some wonderful ladies who helped me sort out some of my mother's paperwork at a very difficult time. I never thought I'd be back again under these (much better) circumstances.

Since I didn't know anyone, I was pretty much on my own for the entire run, but there were a few different groups that I ran near at different times. I think it's natural to assume that you'll be the slowest one in a new group, and while I certainly wasn't the fastest, it was good to see a decent number of runners who were at a similar pace as me. Even if we didn't really talk much, it was good not to be completely alone!

As I was running, I thought about calling this blog post "I went the extra mile" because the way the course worked out, the "out and back" only got you 15 miles and in order to do 16, you had to add on an extra mile at the end - an extra, super steep hilly mile. The entire time I was running, particularly the last few miles, I was dreading that "extra" mile.

By about mile 12, I was trailing two other girls, being pulled along in their wake and waiting for them to take the final turn back to the health club and up the "extra mile." But they didn't take that turn. They kept going past it for a while and then turned around, wisely choosing to do the "extra mile" on flat ground instead of the hideous uphill climb. I wasn't even thinking, just following and by following the leader, I was spared that grueling hill and so grateful for those girls.

It was, as I mentioned, a mostly solitary run, but that's a good thing. During the marathon, especially in those last tough ten miles, I won't have much left inside, so the extra boost from the crowds will be something new, something fresh. And if you can do 16 alone, you can do 26 with crowds, right?
That's what I'm hoping, anyway!

When I finished and was stretching, I chatted with a few fellow runners, one man in particular who drives from Connecticut each weekend to run with DFMC! He said the marathon is amazing, tough, challenging, and the toughest part is actually after Heartbreak Hill, in those last 8 miles when there's really nothing to look forward to- but you're not really "done" yet either. Basically from Boston College to the end. Little tips like that are good to know, so I can ask friends and family to strategically position themselves in the miles after Heartbreak Hill to the end... Food for thought.

Tha'ts it for now. Onwards and upwards....

2009-02-12T06:59:00.000-08:00

Last weekend I took a little break from my "official" marathon training and flew to LA! I was sick of shoveling, missed my friends and needed some LA love. It worked! I feel more loved!

I saw a ton of friends and while I didn't have to shovel, the weather sadly wasn't in the 80's as it apparently had been for the previous 11 months. But, hey. I wasn't wearing mittens or earmuffs. Things were good.

Me, Nancy, Mary and some other TNT friends met up to do the Chinatown Firecracker race, which we'd been warned was pretty hilly. Nancy and I did the 10K and were all "what hills?" after the first half mile. And then the climb began. And kept on going. It was like a big hill training run - about 3 miles uphill.

There were millions of "Kids Run LA" kids which usually make LA runners a little bit nervous, if not irritated. It's a great cause - don't get me wrong. And we love the kids! But there are millions of the little critters all over the roads, and as Mary so aptly said, co-erced running isn't necessarily as much fun as the kind you choose to do yourself.

Kids Run LA is a program in the LA public schools where they get kids to run the LA Marathon. Little kids - junior high, even, training to run 26.2 miles. Adult Angelenos who enjoy running see them out at any and every community race from about October til the marathon in March (or this year, May!)

And while they're cute, certain aspects of them are not cute. Like when they're running right in front of you up a hill, and you're both exerting a certain amount of concerted effort (ie, strain) to put one foot in front of the other, and they just stop. Suddenly. Right in front of you, without looking behind or to the side.

So... aside from the little road obstacles, it was really really fun. The weather was perfect for running - overcast and in the high 50's. The views were amazing.. all though Echo Park near Dodger's Stadium. And not to brag, but because of my 6am hill runs in Charlestown, I didn't find the hills that bad at all. It was also just a 6 mile run, which isn't much compared to some of the runs I've been doing.

Afterwards, we feasted on delicious dim sum at a spot recommended by our very own Yelp expert Shawna. She actually is some head honcho at the LA Yelp, so we were in good hands. Mary and I took a blurry cameraphone snap post-meal. There are other pics and once they're available to me, I'l post them!

This weekend is a lovely 10.5 miler. I thought it was 16, but happily not. I do believe though, that from now till the end of March, every weekend run will be pretty long. With the exception of one weekend when I'll be in Atlanta and won't be able to do more than 10.

So... from now til April 20th, it's all about hunkering down and really training.
I think I hear "Eye of the Tiger" in the background, pumping me up...
Until next time!
J
xoxo

Late post...

2009-02-05T07:07:00.001-08:00

Hi!

Belatedly posting about this weekend's10.5 mile run... It wasn't terribly eventful, which is a good thing, but I finally got to run with my friend Lisa for the first time in ages, which is a great thing!

Lisa and I met while doing Ultimate Bootcamp in Charlestown last summer and immediately bonded over a shared desire to do some local runs, London and British food (she's British!), being new to Boston, and a definite mutual love of shopping!! For months, we ran around the Charles river, even did some 5Ks and 10Ks together. Lisa's relatively new to running, but picked it up superfast!

She decided to run the Boston Marathon at about the same time as me, but for Team Fox, which is Michael J. Fox's charity team for Parkinson's disease. Lisa's Nan passed away from Parkinson's earlier this year and she wanted to do this marathon in her honor. Unfortunately, since Lisa started training for Boston, she's been plagued with injuries. For my running friends, I'll just say two letters: I.T.

What her sports therapist says is that her knees just weren't built for running. She hasn't let that stop her though and she's been stretching, resting, icing - all the things you're supposed to do. She hadn't been able to do any long runs - till this weekend!

We took the "T" out to Newton and ran back, basically following the last 10.5 miles of the Boston Marathon course. We took it easy (which was good for me too!) and made it in about 2 hours .We lucked out weather-wise, because it was a balmy 35 degrees. That's right, Angelenos. A Balmy 35.

This week, I've been taking it a little bit easy for no apparent reason. I ran around the river for the first time in ages on Monday because the roads were finally clear enough to risk it.. And this morning, I got up and met Beth at 6am in 8 degree weather for our Bunker Hill HILLS. BRRRRrrrrr!! It was cold!

Tonight I get on a plane for LA to see all of my LA friends. Very much looking forward to that! I won't be doing any long runs this weekend, but plan to do the Chinatown Firecracker 10K race on Sunday with my Team in Training friends, then stuff my face with Dim Sum.

I'll post pics and update the blog when I get back!

As for fundraising, things are going pretty well! I've already got almost $1000, and that's just from one round of emails! Feeling very good that my friends and family are going to come through and help me meet my goal!

Off to LA...
More when I return!
xoxo

16.3 Miles

2009-01-24T10:17:00.000-08:00

At the beginning of Heartbreak Hill stands a
statue of the legendary John Kelly who ran the
Boston Marathon 61 times, the last time at age
84. The statue shows "young" John Kelly joining
hands with "old" John Kelly as they both "finish"
the marathon.

Wow. Today I ran 16.3 miles and let me tell you, that last .3 definitely counts.

It's the same finish each time I run with Fitcorp - up the incredibly steep part of Beacon Street near the Boston Common and State House for about .2 or .3 miles. Tough.

Just when you're almost done, you've got this one last major hurdle to overcome. Its one of those marathon things that makes you dig deeper, go further and see if you've got it in you.
Luckily, this time, I did. But only just.

I started today's run with these two girls I met about 6 weeks ago, BU third year medical students named Angela and Sylvena. They're very sweet and share the interesting medical stuff they're learning with me while we run and in return are subjected to any and all medical horror stories I can think of, inevitably resulting in TMI I'm sure, but anyone who's run long distance knows that sometimes it doesn't matter what you say, as long as you keep talking - just for something to do during the long, boring miles.

They started super fast this week, so luckily for them, I couldn't keep up after 5 miles, and they didn't have to listen to any more weird doctor stories for the rest of the run.

But, that meant I had to do the last 11 on my own, which was a little bit daunting because that's several hours of running with no one to talk to, nothing but your own thoughts. Its times like that when marathons are more mental than anything else.

During most of these training runs, we inevitably wind up on the actual Boston Marathon course and at least on part of the 4 mile stretch of "Heartbreak Hill." It's just a question of "at which mile?"

Heartbreak Hill itself isn't actually that bad. It's not as steep as say, San Francisco cable car hills or the street I lived on in LA, Marathon Street. It's just a series of steady hills with occasional plateaus - for 4 miles. For anyone who's done the Nike Women's Marathon in San Francisco, the hills are like those. Except you hit them at mile 16. And the first 10 miles of the Boston Marathon are downhill. So when you hit these 4 miles of hills, you already want to die. Just setting that up...

Today, I happened to hit the hills at mile 8 of my run. And in my head, I froze. I got nervous and actually stopped running for a second, took some "goo" (in my case Powerbar Gel) and water and then started up the hill. For a moment, I even thought about walking.

This is crazy. At mile 8 of last week's run, I felt like I could run forever. When I hit this spot on April 20th, it will be at mile 16. I KNEW it was mental and I knew I had to do something to change the way I was feeling.

So I thought about Evan. Evan was my college boyfriend, a serious marathoner who did his best Boston Marathon in 2:52. I've never personally known anyone faster - and I've known a lot of runners. He was the best. Tragically, Evan's life ended far too early at age 31, just as he was getting into ultramarathons.

Mile 16 is the mile I'm running for Evan on marathon day because it's where Heartbreak Hill begins. I know he had to summon the courage to conquer that hill the many times he ran the Boston Marathon - and I know if he was here, he'd do whatever he could to help get me through those hills. So at the point where Heartbreak Hill began today, after I took my goo and started climbing those hills, I thought of Evan, and how much strength, courage and determination he had - and how he'd give ANYTHING to be doing exactly what I was doing at that moment. And I got through it.

The rest of the run was very much like a lot of long runs: periods of discomfort, even pain, followed by bouts of euphoria, or at least momentum and a comfortable pace.

I never listen to music on long runs, but fearing that maybe I'd be alone today, I brought the Ipod, just in case. With less than 3 miles to go, just after Kenmore Square, I put the headphones on, set the Ipod to "shuffle" and hoped something inspirational would come on. And it did.

First came St. Elmo's Fire, which had never sounded so good. Then Raspberry Beret, and as I was climbing that last .3 up Beacon Street and towards the State House, Amadaus kicked into gear.

Every time they sang "A-ma-de-us" I changed the words in my head to "You-can-do-it" and repeated it over and over again til I was at the top. Just then, the song changed to one of my favorite new songs, "The Story" by Brandi Carlyle, which is much more introspective and emotional, and I started to feel emotional.

I don't often cry tears of joy at the end of a marathon. There are usually so many other things going on to distract me (not the least of which is usually some pretty intense pain.) But once or twice, I've wept at the end of a long training run because it's somehow purer then. There are fewer people around and it's just about the fact that you did this thing that you didn't think you could do.

In this case, no one was watching (but of course I'm telling everyone now) and I was alone on Beacon Street having run 16.3 miles mostly alone and faster than I've ever run that kind of distance, and it's going to sound corny but I thought of my mom and how proud she would be and how proud I am of myself that I just kept going - even when my hip started to turn to steel and didn't want to move and my knee twinged a little bit and exhaustion overtook me from time to time, and I was all alone. And I did cry tears of joy; serious, euphoric, bittersweet joy.

So, it was a great run. I won't be doing such a long distance again til Valentine's Day, so hopefully by then, the midweek trainings will make 16.3 miles slightly less painful. Or maybe not. It's all a learning experience, all a challenge - a rewarding and fulfilling challenge indeed.

Now I'm off for a nap to rest up for an incredible meal tonight at Prezzo in The North End. And dessert. Lots and lots of dessert.

Winter Running Accessories... Brrrrrrr

2009-01-23T06:07:00.001-08:00

Hill Training!

2009-01-22T06:57:00.000-08:00

This morning marked week #2 for what I think I'll call "Bunker Hill Boot Camp Hill Training" with my friend Beth.
The two of us crawled out of bed at 5:30am and met on the dark, freezing streets of Charlestown to torture ourselves with hill repeats. Well, actually we kind of love it, but using the word torture makes us seem even more hard core.
I tried taking a picture of the killer hill (Bunker Hill Street) on my way to work this morning and the result is above. Due to blinding sun, you can't really see the whole thing, but you get the idea. We run to the top, where that church steeple is, and back down again. For about an hour.
We're kickass, hard as nails, don't-mess-with-us bad asses.
Well, at least we feel that way when we're done. Hills #7 and 8 aren't so kickass or badass. Just numbass and ache-ass.
But if you're going to conquer Heartbreak Hill, you've got to train for it.
One step at a time, one hill at a time.....

Training and Fundraising are Underway!

2009-01-21T20:31:00.001-08:00

Well, here it goes; my blog, created to share the journey of training for the Boston Marathon.

I've been training for the past few months with the Dana Farber Marathon Challenge team as well as the Fitcorp marathon training program. At this point, I've run on Heartbreak Hill 3 times, although none of those occasions were at mile 16 after having run 10 miles downhill (which is what happens during the actual Marathon.) Heartbreak Hill is (I've been told) 4 miles of uphill ... that you hit at mile 16. Intense.

I'm fundraising for Dana Farber this time around because they've got a great training program and the money they will raise (with your help!), $4.5-5 million, is earmarked for basic cancer research.

Each year, they choose different cancer researchers to support and this year, one of them is a lung cancer researcher. You can go here to read about the kind of research he's doing. http://www.kintera.org/faf/home/ccp.asp?ievent=283893&ccp=86459. Click on the link that says "meet the Barr researchers" to read about specifically where your money is going!

OK, this is the end of my first post. It's just a taste of what's to come...
Sit back, relax and get ready to read about all of the sweating and freezing (training in the Boston winter, natch!) inspiration and perspiration I'm about to experience and expel, with all of you right beside me. Well, figuratively at least. Don't worry. You don't have to run.

Until next time....