Connecting the dots

"You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life."
~Steve Jobs

I started writing this last night as soon as the news hit my computer about death of Steve Jobs...the news of another life lost to this terrible disease called cancer. Stupid, stupid, crappy cancer. There seems to be almost a sense of surprise that someone like Steve Jobs, who knew great success, was susceptible to cancer just like anyone else. I just keep thinking this loss is a vivid reminder that cancer knows no boundaries and does not discriminate. It doesn't matter if you have a brilliant mind like Jobs or if you struggle to read. It doesn't matter if you have a billion dollars or not enough to pay the bills. It doesn't matter if you have kids, or if you are just a kid yourself. It doesn't matter if you've got a new job or are planning a dream vacation. No rational decision to strike is made based on who you are or what your situation, and we don't get to pick who it hits or why. We don't get to pick who responds to treatment and who doesn't, who becomes well and who loses their life. Cancer doesn't play a fair game and there are few rules. For me, since about 10 years ago, there hasn't been a day that has passed when I have thought about cancer, yet I know that isn't the case for everyone. However, it is news like this about someone who has had great influence in many, many lives reminds us of this, and just how far we still have to go to combat cancer in its many forms.

One of the most repeated phrases I've heard since the news was announced is that Steve Jobs "changed the world." And he did for millions of people. His ideas altered the way we interact with each other, the way many students are now taught in school, the way we listen to music, the way information is shared and stored, the way we play games, the way we shop, the way we find our way from one place to another. There's an app for about everything. And while not everyone has the far-reaching effect on others like Jobs did, I can't help but think that every single person has changed the world. Just being born changes the world for someone else. We make someone a parent or a sister or brother or aunt or uncle or grandparent. We build friendships. We work. We teach. We are neighbors. We play. We see and know others. Even the negative changes, things that are not always be for the better, are change nonetheless. It's all too simple to go on about our day without realizing the effect we can have on others. Each in our own way, we are changing the world, a little by just living and a lot more by how we live.

Steve Jobs encouraged people to envision change. To know your dream and follow your heart. There are too many people I love that have been affected by cancer and that has profoundly and deeply changed my world. I don't have a piece of technology to remind me of that, but I do have pictures and memories and an altered outlook on how to live well and to recognize what is important in my life. I want to connect the dots and be proud of the picture I see.

I wish peace, strength, and healing to the family and friends of Steve Jobs.
Be good. Be strong.

2012 DFMC Application is ready for you to complete!!

I've been quite negligent of this blog over the summer but am planning to start back this week on a regular basis. In the meantime, I just wanted to put out there that the applications for the 2012 Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge team are available. It's an amazing experience with an inspiring and motivating group of people. Think about joining the team! I am planning to be back out there again this year and would love to have friends or family join in. The team will fill quickly so if you are interested I would encourage you to apply soon. Let me know if you have any questions!

Click here to apply or to learn more!

Be good. Be strong.

Ride for Life

The Ride for Life will be held this weekend on Signal Mountain, TN. All proceeds will benefit the Barr Program in Innovative Basic Cancer Research at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. This was an idea thought up by my sister, Mary, who devastatingly is not with us to see it through. It has, instead, been carried out by 9 of her friends who call themselves "Friends of the Firths." They are amazing friends and we are lucky to know them. If you are in Chattanooga, please think about getting out and joining them on Saturday morning.

Mary's friend, Claire, wrote this article about the ride and why they have organized this event. It's a great tribute to Mary, her friend and my sister.

http://chattanoogapulse.com/pulsefeatures/beyond-the-headlines/beyond-the-headlines-finding-a-way-to-be-good-be-strong/

Reflecting

It's my favorite time of the day, the quiet of the morning before the rest of the house starts stirring. I thought that I'd still be snoozing this morning since it is school vacation week AND the marathon was yesterday, but no such luck. I am enjoying the peacefulness, drinking a cup of coffee and reflecting on the 2011 Boston Marathon, the Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge, and the path to get to today....one day post marathon. It was an emotional, inspired, uplifting, motivational, yet bittersweet run on a beautiful April day in Massachusetts.

The Dana-Farber runners start the day together in Hopkinton....getting ready for running, taking a team picture, signing posters for the Jimmy Fund kids who are patient partners. For me, that time full of a lot of emotion. It is the big reminder of WHY I am running for Dana-Farber, but also a time when I try not to think too hard about that or I will be a puddle of emotions on the floor and not be able to find my way to the start line. Many of the runners are survivors of cancer themselves. Many more have lost a family member to cancer. Everyone has someone close to them that has received the diagnosis of cancer. We are running for the same purpose....a cure.

I was part of the third wave of runners to start, so we headed down to the starting line around 10:20 for our 10:40 start. There was a tailwind blowing from the west, and the sun was shining trying to warm the temps up from a chilly 45 to 60 at the finish. A perfect day for running, and off we went. 9000 runners starting at the same time makes for a crowd, and there is jockeying around early on. I was able to settle in to my pace after about 2 miles, and some mental talks with myself. "You feel fine." "No pain." "You've got this." "Settle in, get comfortable, relax, and just run." And that's what I did. I really felt good yesterday, and the miles went by pretty quickly.

The scenes, the crowds, the runners, the signs....there is so much support and so much to see out on the course. I wish I could run with a camera, but I am not coordinated enough. It's a celebration for 26 miles. I was lucky enough to see some friendly faces along the way, and I thank you for getting my attention. It's hard to see people along the way if you don't know where to look. There are constant screams of "Go Dana-Farber" and "Thank you for running, Dana-Farber," always bringing a smile and a thumbs up. All of the action allows you to take in the sights and focus on something other than each step or each minute. There are people dressed in costumes like gorillas and Sonic, or in tutus or crazy hats. There are reports of the Red Sox score (which was a win) and offers of beer. There are oranges, and Flav-or-Ice, and pretzels and licorice. Thousands and thousands running, and thousands and thousands offering support.

I'm a list maker, which helps me break things down into manageable pieces. Just like I do at home, I was able to break the run down into smaller chunks, happy to get through each part and move onto the others, checking the miles off my list. At 5 miles, one-fifth of the way there (well almost....but don't tell my running self that it's actually a little short). At 9 miles, one third of the way. Halfway there in Wellesley. Three miles of flat and then a big downhill. Another, 1.5 miles to see my family which is my biggest lift. Then 3 miles and over the hills. 4 more miles to the Dana-Farber Cheering section near Kenmore Square. And then 1.2 miles until the finish. Check! I finished in 3:48:59. My personal best. A Boston Qualifying time for next year. One minute and one second under my goal.

I spent a lot of time thinking about Molly, Mary, and John yesterday. I had a lot of time to do that. I talked to them while I was running. I thanked them for showing me what strength is. What it means to give it your all. I thought of them as I chugged it up the hills, actually feeling truly strong, knowing they were giving me a little lift. I missed them with every step, and felt deep sadness that they could not be there with us to take steps to kick cancer in the ass. My mantra for the race yesterday turned out to be the Jim Valvano quote "Don't give up. Don't ever give up." I like to have some words to concentrate on during the more trying times during a run, and wasn't sure what it was going to be yesterday until I saw a sign during the early miles with that quote on it. I repeated it when my steps felt difficult, when I was starting to feel like slowing down. I have had 3 beautiful, living examples of what it meant to never give up, and that carried me yesterday. We learned it from my parents and I will carry that lesson with me today and tomorrow and the next day. Don't ever give up. Don't ever, ever, ever give up.

Thank you for all of your messages of support. For caring about this cause on behalf of my family. For your contributions to Dana-Farber. For your notes and your pictures. For being out there and cheering. For your balloons and signs that were waiting for me at home. For the hugs. For understanding how important this has been for us. For caring about all of us. I remembered this all while I was running. I truly did. It helped to carry me along on a beautiful day.

My goal for the race was 3:50. I beat it by one minute. My original goal for DFMC was to raise $20,000 and have raised over $34,000 so far. Two check marks on my "to do" list. It's been a hell of a crazy ride, and a blur of a crazy emotions. But yesterday. Yesterday was an incredible day.

Be good. Be strong.

One last hill

My knee hurts. I think I'm getting sick. I didn't train enough. It's going to rain. Might be 85 degrees. What if I miss the start? Am I eating the right thing? I'll wear long sleeves. Nope, shorts sleeves. Nope, long sleeves. Will there be wind? I haven't done enough. I've done too much. My ear itches. This show is a rerun.

Running helps clear my mind. It's my therapy. My quiet time. My "sort through the anxiety and daily grind" time. My escape. And with only 6 days to go until the Marathon and in the midst of tapering off, I am running less and stressing more. This is like the one last hill on Hereford St. before making the turn to the finish line in Boston. I have been going out for runs that aren't long enough or hard enough to reap the endorphin, natural healing vibes I need! These feelings will settle in a couple of days, but this week is mentally trying. It's full of emotion, a vivid reminder of why I am running this marathon for Dana-Farber. It's full of gratitude, for the amazing support that has been shown to this cause. It's full of checklists and notes and planning, trying to prepare for a good day. It's full of excitement that 4 or 5 months of training was the hard work, and the payoff is on Monday.

I could have never dreamed we together could reach over $32,000 raised for cancer research in a single year. But I also never could have dreamed what this year would have been like when I signed up to run last October. I don't think anyone could have. But, I still have hope. I still believe, as did Molly and Mary and John, that we can make a difference. We can be the change. We can do this for them. So many people have donated, held events, asked their friends and family for support, shared our story, taken this effort on as their own, and I am incredibly grateful for your support of Dana-Farber and of the Marathon Challenge this year. And we're not finished yet....www.runDFMC.org/2011/jennies.

I am not a cancer survivor. But I am a survivor of cancer and it's far reaching effects. Anyone who has lost a family member is. I would run forever if it could change the way things have been, but instead, I will run 26.2 on Monday to try to change the way things will be. For my family. For my children. For my friends. And for yours.

Be good. Be strong.

Molly's Way

Today is Molly's 40th birthday. She always did birthdays big and made sure it was a special and unique day for the birthday celebrant. We can't celebrate with her, but we can live for her and honor her to ensure today is special and unique for her. Molly had an easy-going and effortless way about her. She was truly her own self all the time...no fronts or shows. Just Molly. At her funeral, I remembered a few of her best traits, her best actions, her best ways to live happily. I am sharing them with you today in hopes that we can always honor Molly and celebrate her 40th by living as she did....happy-go-lucky, with a beautiful and natural smile, believing in goodness, and loving those near and dear without condition. Happy Birthday to you, Molly.

When you smile, mean it. Let your kids wear a tiger tail or paint themselves purple or shoot the Red Rider BB gun at old cans in the backyard. Take the time to be just a little more kind and thoughtful, and mean it. Sing, sing loud, and get others to sing with you. Carry on her ability to encourage others to be nothing more than who they are, especially your kids, because no one should expect anything more. Teach the world her way of truly listening to whomever she was talking with. Sit through some red lights a few extra times so you are late on purpose because living by the clock isn’t always what matters. Hug your family and friends every chance you get. When in doubt, wear the red boots. Always play hard, and run with your elbows up. Don’t take life too seriously, and find laughter in every day. Know that life is adventure to be lived. Look at the full moon each month and remember all the blessings in your life. Try to live life with a little more dancing and a lot more fun. Because that is Molly’s way.

Be good. Be strong.

Nowhere special, just present

"When we honestly ask which persons in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not-knowing, not-curing, not-healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness...makes it clear that whatever happens in the external world, being present to each other is what really matters." ~Henri JM Nouwen

I saw this on a friend's Facebook page and I just loved it (thanks, Kelly). It speaks volumes to what I've realized about friends and relationships over the past few years. It's certainly sound easy...just being present...but in the real world, it is much more complicated to carry out. It's hard to say why that is, and is probably way too much for this brain to analyze. But it seems to just be. I am grateful for all of you who have been "here" with me in the many, many ways you have found to be present.

In marathon news, we are four weeks out from the marathon and I am beginning to feel like I am going to need some glue and tape to hold it all together to get through 26.2. Aches and pains are fluctuating on a daily basis, and will hopefully settle down a bit. Trying to fix things without damaging others while still trying to run enough to feel like I can make it through the marathon in one piece. I have one more big run this weekend, and then will hopefully be able to mend things a bit before April 18. It's all simple enough. Countdown is on.

In weather news, it snowed today. And may snow again in 2 days. It was 70 degrees 3 days ago. Welcome to spring in New England, my absolutely least favorite time of the year. Days like this are just depressing and make you want to curl up in bed for the day. It's time to ditch the socks for flip flops and sandals. To have dinner outside. Run in shorts and a t-shirt. Let the kids run themselves ragged around the neighborhood. See all the people who have been locked inside since December and find out what's new in their lives. Open the windows and inhale the fresh air. Bring on the spring. The REAL spring! We're ready and waiting!!

Be good. Be strong.