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NYC Marathon…Complete

By Guest Blogger: Juliane Kilcoyne

14980766_1817569965125618_3876937334617891792_n-1I knew it was coming. I trained hard for it. But nothing could prepare me for the overwhelming emotions that came with running the NYC Marathon in Isabella’s honor last weekend.

Thousands of us poured into Whitehall Station on the tip of Manhattan early Sunday morning to board the ferries that would take us to Staten Island. My nerves were a mess, the crowds were huge and the lines for the bathroom where 100 people long. All the runners were friendly, sharing marathon stories, cheering, singing songs from their home countries – terminal was bursting with excitement. I was so thankful that I was able to meet up with my teammate Brian and go thru the rest of the journey to the starting line with him. There was something so comforting about being with a friend when surrounded by 50,000 strangers.

On the Ferry, most runners were quiet, enjoying the time to sit and rest while looking out at the Hudson River and Lady Liberty waving us on. It was only when we arrived in Staten Island that the chaos ensued. The terminal was packed, the lines were insane and no one was moving! A shuttle transfer that should have taken 15 minutes ended up taking over an hour and a half. We finally arrived to the starting village, went thru security and headed to our corral only to find that it had already closed and we couldn’t run in our scheduled start time. Our start was delayed 20 minutes, just enough time for me to get my music and apps setup and send a quick text to friends and family so they knew I’d be starting late.

We moved to our start on the lower level of the Verrazano Bridge. The National Anthem echoed thru the crowd and the blast of the cannon signaled the start of our race. Our starting pace was slow because the crowds were so thick. I knew it was great to start conservative in order to finish strong, but it also gave me another advantage. I spent the first mile and a half of the race on the left side of the bridge, looking out at the New York City Skyline and the Freedom Tower welcoming us to the five boroughs.14937228_1817570055125609_931480304993865529_n

I saw my best friend and her family in Brooklyn. They were standing out in the cold, wearing shirts that said “Team Juls”. I slowed down just enough to give them high fives and tell them that I loved them. Those 15 seconds with them carried me through Brooklyn.14955799_1817569991792282_8361816185444853403_n

There were street parties, crazy signs, marching bands and children lining the streets. Church choirs sang on the steps of cathedrals and reggae bands had the runners and spectators grooving. I got more high-fives that day than I had in my entire life. Each one have me a small burst of energy, each one made my heart grow a little more. What I wasn’t prepared for was that people would read my shirt and cheer for Isabella. Within the first 5 miles of the run, I heard of TWENTY people yell “Run for Isabella” or “Go Isabella’s Team” (after that I stopped counting, it was just too many!). They don’t know me. They don’t know the Santos family. But they sent such good vibes and energy. They cheered for the sweet girl I had pinned next to my heart.

Throughout the race, words of encouragement were not only found on the streets of New York, but they were ringing in my ear. Coach Tom had told us about an app that allows supporters to send messages along the route. I heard 28 messages that day. Some made me smile, some made me cry and some made me laugh so hard even New Yorkers looked at me like I was crazy!! Hearing from my friends and family on the journey made me feel like they were all there with me.

After 23 long but exciting miles, I made my way over the final bridge that took us from The Bronx into Manhattan. It’s usually by this mile of a marathon when I hit “The Wall”. This time, it didn’t happen. I felt powerful and invigorated by the crowds – I ran down 5th Avenue feeling strong. At one point we came to a fire station. They had taken their truck to the edge of the sidewalk, extended the ladder over 5th Avenue and hung American flags from it. The firefighters were lined up next to their truck cheering and giving encouragement. It was a powerful moment and just what everyone needed as we made our final turn into Central Park.

The park was lined with spectators and filled with hills. It was as if I didn’t feel the hills, all I heard were the cheers. As I rounded the corner and the finish line was in sight, a woman on the sidewalk yelled “Take Isabella to the Finish Line!” and I’m proud to say that’s just what I did.

I Am Only One, But I Am ONE

By Guest Blogger: Crystal Squires

screen-shot-2016-10-14-at-7-48-17-amAfter 16 weeks of training, countless mornings of early alarms and hundreds and hundreds of miles run … I did it. I completed the Chicago Marathon. This wasn’t my first, wasn’t my last (although I do love to throw around the word “retirement”), wasn’t my best, wasn’t my worst … but there is something extra special when you run across that finish line knowing that you did so not just for yourself, but for something much bigger.

I’ve fundraised before with a group similar to The Dream Team … a group of incredibly motivated people that are committed to doing something to better the world. It’s definitely easier to do when you are physically part of that group (rather than virtually). It’s easier to see the impact that you make when you are one standing within the group rather than one standing alone from afar. I thought of this often as I ran through the streets of Chicago with 45,000 other people. I thought of the pictures that I’ve seen on the Dream Team group page of the huge gatherings of people … the enormous sea of purple that would fill the streets. I thought of the impact that would make within a race like this … how much more noticeable that sea of purple would be over just one lonely purple person proudly sporting her cause across her chest amongst the so many other charity runners sporting their causes as well. I started to wonder if people would even notice me … even notice the cause. Not for the recognition, but for the sake of spreading the word about pediatric cancer and the desperate need for funding. I knew I was part of the sea, but it was hard to see the sea in that moment.screen-shot-2016-10-14-at-7-48-43-am screen-shot-2016-10-14-at-7-49-15-am

Then the focus shifted. Perhaps not EVERYONE in Chicago noticed our cause, but people DID notice. I got shout outs several times along the course. “Go Isabella’s Dream Team! Keep it up purple!” I may not have been noticed by all 45,000 people running or every one of the thousands that lined the streets … but I was noticed by some. Perhaps one of those people got online later that day and looked up Isabella’s story. Perhaps one forgot the name but remembered something about childhood cancer and takes notice the next time an opportunity to help comes along. Perhaps one person chose to do a little more digging and became aware that pediatric cancer only receives 4% of federal funding, came to the realization that 4% was complete bullsh*t and then decided to take some action. Whatever impact you make .. whether it be to one person or many … reaching but one person means you’re making a difference.

“I am only one, but I am ONE. I cannot do everything, but I can do SOMETHING. And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I CAN DO.” ~Edward Everett Hale

So, thank you, Dream Team, for allowing me to be a part of your SOMETHING. For inspiring and motivating me along the way … even from hundreds of miles away. Thanks for welcoming me into your sea of purple.

This past Sunday afternoon I crossed the finish line of the Chicago Marathon. And I did so for a reason greater than myself. I did so to make a difference. I did so to raise money for pediatric cancer. I did so as a member of The Dream Team.

I did so for Isabella.screen-shot-2016-10-14-at-7-49-42-am

Carpe Diem During Training?

By Guest Blogger: Juliane Kilcoyne

There’s a joke in the running world that goes something like this: “How can you tell if someone is training for a marathon? Don’t worry, they’ll tell you.” It’s true. When you are in marathon mode, nothing else seems to be as important. It’s not about days of the week, it’s about miles and recovery. There is a countdown to everything… the next long run…the next speed work…the marathon. As my husband can attest, our conversations rarely deviate from miles run, recovery and the plan for race day.

This year, my husband threw me a curveball.   On September 30th we celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary. Last month, he suggested we take a trip to celebrate, a big trip. So, we’ve left the boys for the first time and traveled to Italy. What were my first thoughts when he suggested we go? “How would my training work overseas? Should we postpone our anniversary until after the marathon?”screen-shot-2016-10-03-at-8-09-44-am

This week I broke out of my regimented marathon schedule and headed overseas. I won’t lie – I crammed in 2 -16 mile runs in the days leading up to the trip, so I didn’t have to do a long run in Italy. We are walking so much that I haven’t pushed my self to do the miles I know I should. I’m loading up on carbs and giving my body a little recovery. The wine is flowing and the gelato is piled high.

I know it’s a risky move, 5 weeks before the marathon to go on vacation. If there is one thing I have learned being a part of the Dream Team, it’s to seize the moment. Isabella has taught us all that life is too short, it can be taken too soon. When you have an opportunity to celebrate life, love & family – you have to do it! Now that I’m here, I’m embracing the time with my husband in this beautiful country. I know that even if this trip sets me back a bit, even if it costs me a few hard miles next week, it is all worth it.

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Mental Training

By Guest Blogger: Julie Smith

I’ve sat here all evening trying to think what to write about. Normally, I don’t struggle with writing, but after the crazy week it has been in the Queen City, I am still reeling with it all. As I woke up on Thursday morning to go for a run, I left my iphone by the bed, so that I could think. Thinking how I run for love. For the love of people that I don’t even know, like the children fighting cancer right now. This love, this purpose, is vital as our mileage increases on Saturdays, closer and closer to our goal of 13.1 miles. While our physical training is important, so is the mental training. A few things I’ve learned along the way:

It takes a combination of passion and perseverance to carry you through the hard times. As my fellow bloggers have written, having the purpose in your heart and running to crush cancer helps spur you on when you want to give up. When you see big hill and feel defeated, reminding myself of my purpose helps me overcome the physical obstacle.img_1683

Speak and think positive. You have to speak positive, and believe in yourself. This team cheers on everyone and encourages me during every run. I’m thankful for the smiles and high-fives on Saturday mornings from this team

As we finish #pediatriccancerACTIONmonth, don’t stop now. Let’s keep going

Cancer’s Got To Go

By Guest Blogger: Jess Hall

This week, I lost my best friend to cancer. I read that sentence and I still can’t believe it’s true.

She was diagnosed with leukemia at the end of April when she went to the doctor about a cough. It’s less than five months later and she’s gone.

For the record, she was the best person I have ever known and the best friend I could ever ask for. She always had a smile on her face, she always had something encouraging to share, and she just made life better. She had also just finished her first year of medical school (below is a picture from the day she found out she was accepted). She was determined to change the world.med-school-acceptance

Instead of curing illnesses or delivering babies, meeting her future husband and having kids of her own (her greatest dream of all), or anything else worth mentioning, she’s gone. And tomorrow I have to stand in an auditorium filled with people grieving the loss of the best person I’ve ever known. What’s fair about that?

When I got the phone call on Monday afternoon, I couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone had me pinned to the ground, holding me down by my chest, refusing to let me up, with pressure building and building and building. And every day since I’ve walked around with a hole in my chest and a lump in my throat and I wonder: Will it always feel this way?

On Tuesday, I began to feel this hot, burning rage bubble up inside me. Cancer stole someone precious from me and I can never get her back. And with that rage came the determination to stop it in its tracks. Families and friends should not have to mourn these losses anymore. Tori got 24 years of life and I am immensely grateful to have experienced the last five of those by her side. But families and friends of these young children fighting this disease don’t have time like that. Children like Isabella and Imogen deserve to experience their futures: the high school heartbreaks, the all-nighters, the weddings, the babies– the LIFE.

So I write to you today in the midst of my heartache, in the midst of fighting with the hole in my chest and the lump in my throat, to beg you to take action. Go read Erin’s posts through the ISF social media accounts about what cancer has stolen from her and her family– they will show you what it feels like and they will break your heart. And then don’t just say “that’s sad” or shake your head– DO. SOMETHING. Sign up for the ISF 5K/10K next week, donate to ISF, organize a fundraiser– it doesn’t matter what but DO SOMETHING.

tori-countI’m moving forward with my training alongside the Dream Team with an even stronger passion. It is such a blessing to have them behind me. I got a text on Tuesday with the image below, showing two of my friends running for Tori. As Nichole said in her message, “Cancer’s got to go.” Let’s kick it to the curb– for Isabella, for Imogen, for Tori, for everyone else who fought the fight valiantly, and for those who are still fighting.

 

Marathon Fashion- A Jersey Girl Nightmare

By Guest Blogger: Juliane Kilcoyne

I have lived in Charlotte for over 11 years now, but I will always consider myself a Jersey Girl. Born and raised in Northern NJ – I’m not sure my inner Jersey Girl would approve of this present day Charlottean during marathon training.

The Hair – Let’s be honest, Jersey hair was BIG. It was curled, it was teased, it was covered in Aquanet. (no, I will not include a picture). Marathon hair is the opposite. It’s in a pony, a tight pony, usually covered by a hat, sometimes if I’m feeling fancy, there is a braid. After every run I wash it, then weigh the pros and cons of blowing it out. I’ll either be running or cross training the next day, so what’s the point right? It’s a vicious cycle and my poor hair pays the price.

The Nails – My Jersey Nails were hot pink, plastic and well maintained. While my fingernails are nondescript now, my toenails get a lot of attention these days. They fall off! During my 16 mile run in the rain this past Friday, I thought something had gotten caught in my sock. I realized after it was over, that not only were my toes swollen and blistered, but, I had in fact, started losing my nails. It’s totally nasty and a rite of passage for most marathoners. Sometimes I muster the courage to get a pedicure during training just because a soak and foot massage would be amazing. Then, I spend the entire time apologizing to the nail tech and stopping her from applying fake nails to my toes.

The Fashion – My old Jersey Girl loved her black leggings, scrunchies, leg warmers and oversized shirts. These days, my style consists of running tops, running shorts, running shoes, oh, and running socks. Yes, after my workouts I shower (don’t blow out my hair) and put on clean clothes – clean running clothes. I think, “what’s the point of getting dressed up for a couple hours, the kids will be home from school soon, which means it’s practically time to go to bed, so why waste a perfectly good outfit?” Oh the shame my inner Jersey Girl must feel seeing me in the same running clothes day after day!

While the Jersey Girl in me may not approve of my marathon fashion sense (or lack thereof) here’s what she and I both believe:

-There are children right now having chemotherapy. They would love to have hair – whether teased or in a ponytail.

-Little girls will lose their battle with cancer today and never be able to go to the nail salon to paint their nails a pretty pink.

-Children are wearing hospital gowns tonight, dreaming of the day they can put on their regular clothes (fashionable or not) and walk out the door.

Fashion seems like a small price to pay when you take a look at the reasons why we run. And, because of that, I know my inner Jersey Girl approves.