The Lowdown

I drafted a pretty heavy post last night, pouring out my heart about the last two months. I never posted, respecting my wonderful wife. Some things are not meant for the worldwide web.

What I will say is the last two months have been tough for everyone. I am glad Dori continues to get better, slowly but surely. I did not enjoy the recent scare.

As they said on Wayne's World, "Let's move on."

I'm in the middle of this tapering thing. Tapering is hard, because it's a big shift from the ramp-up the previous four months. You can feel the energy building. One counter force is a small cold I've had since Sunday night. I'm eating wheat pasta, beans, chicken and hummus for dinners, Irish oatmeal and fruit for breakfast, and peanut butter sandwiches and the like for lunches. I'm hammering Vitamin C like a college freshman drinks beer.

I ran a few miles on the treadmill last night, staying out of a steady rain. Tonight, I ran six miles in the mist, a decent run. I'm really glad I ran the three miles up Beersheba Mountain. I'm still a tad sore in the quads, but the hill training will hopefully pay dividends October 25th. I certainly took hills with ease tonight. I only have a few more runs before Cape Cod, including an eight-miler Saturday.

Today, I saw Tim, who ran the Chicago Marathon. He recorded an impressive 4:24, despite a blister at Mile 6 and intense knee pain at Mile 23. Also impressive, he raised $7,200 for research for SCID, which his son has. Well done, Tim.



Will and I went to the Athlete's House today, a running store I like. I bought a new pair of Defyance shoes from Brooks for the race, along with a pair of running shorts, a case of lemon-lime GU and Body Glide. Will asked about the latter, which I described without ever using the word "chafing." Maureen, the very nice saleslady and a stellar marathoner (18 marathons and a PR of 2:53), chimed in where needed.

The shoes felt great tonight. I love new running shoes.

Up the Mountain

I have lots to talk about, but will hit the heavy stuff on another post. For now, the focus is on running.

Our family, mother and sister in tow, went to the Cumberland Plateau this weekend to our little hideaway in Beersheba Springs. Normally, the overlook of nearly 1,000 feet is breathtaking. This weekend, it was rainy and foggy. We had a nice fire and great food, but no view.

I left the cabin at 8:30 Saturday morning to hit my last double-digit training run before the Cape Cod Marathon. Hard to believe it's two weeks away. Humidity was 100% and the temp was around 58 degrees. I ran on top of the plateau for the first 1.8 miles and then headed down the mountain. The elevation change was more than 900 feet down three winding miles. The grade was an average 6%, as high as 8% in spots.

My plan was to run back up the mountain on the return. My reasoning was twofold. I needed some climbs before Cape Cod, and I always wanted to run up a mountain like this.

At the base, the five-mile mark, I tacked on a mile out and back. The valley view was stunning, even in the mist. On the return, I started my ascend at seven miles. I went into a zone, just focused on working up the hill. After 1.2 miles, I did a brisk walking fuel and stretch, maybe for a minute. I renewed the run, getting in another mile before another brief stretch. With a mile to go to the peak, I told myself the work I was doing now would pay huge dividends in two weeks. I scaled Beersheba Mountain, averaging an 11:30/mile pace.

I had to take a real break at the top. I was spent. For a few minutes, I just walked. When my legs came back, I started running to compete the 12-miler. Around a bend, I saw five noticeable figures - my Mom, sister, Dori and the kids. They were headed to Beersheba Porcelain, a three-mile walk for them. The kids call it Pug Pottery because of the small dog that greets them at the door.

Speaking of the kids, they recorded personal bests at the final cross country meet yesterday afternoon. Will ran a 7:40 mile, finishing in the Top 20 for the first time this year (18th), while Kathryn ran a 7:35 mile, finishing 8th, a best by three spots. They looked strong.

I needed to run again last night, so I headed to Radnor Lake at dusk. I ran easy the first half, getting loose from Saturday's run. On the return, I floored it, running eight-minute miles, hardly feeling like I was working. I finished the 3.8 miles in 33:45, an 8:52/mile pace. Weekly mileage was 28.5. I'll taper this week into the low 20s, then almost shut down next week.

I am ready to run a marathon.

Congratulations, by the way, to my training friends who finished the Chicago Marathon yesterday. I saw finishing times for Sara, Jim, Joelle, Kathy, Erin and Rosemary. Way to go, gang.

'Hans Lives Here'

Dori is home, and that's really cool. Pepper has been obsessing about her since she returned. He's treating her like the Alpha, which is fine with me.

The news below is uncool. Funny how little talk there is about personal responsibility in the healthcare debate.



OK, back to blog basics. Dori's sister Kathy sent her a great package today to celebrate her two-year transplant "birthday," which officially is Saturday. Kathy's note was heartfelt and perfect, only as sisters can write. I also loved the "Hans Lives Here" t-shirt. We will celebrate D-Girl's birthday more this weekend in style.

Home Tomorrow

Dori is scheduled to be discharged from the hospital tomorrow. I visited her at lunch today, and she looks very good. Her cough has gone from persistent a few days ago to semi-nagging today.

The kids have been fine, and I have been, too. It's just so damned quiet around here. Last night, I spent the night alone after a day trip for my job. My super-Mom kept the kids. Our deaf dog Pepper is a great companion, but he doesn't make much noise unless he's being rustled by the kids. The dryer tried to fein activity the last few days, but the house has been Serenity City.

For Dori, her respite has been a good thing. She's enjoyed it, in fact. We agree it's allowed her to review her insane schedule the past two months and reflect peacefully on life's priorities. Dori has asked my opinion during some brainstorming sessions. I'm encouraging only one thing ... that she ask a lot of questions of different leaders in her life before making any decisions about altering her schedule. What I do know is the current system isn't working for my favorite leukemia survivor.

Mom's help enabled me to get in my second run this week - a five-miler this morning. It took every bit of effort to get out of bed today. But I did it. The first mile was about blocking out how sleepy I felt. After that, I started moving better.

Isn't that what overcoming any challenge is? The beginning. Just address your fears, concerns and anxiety up front, and voila, the rest isn't nearly as challenging. I may revisit that thought at Mile 23 in three weeks.

In the Hospital

With a still-fragile new immune system, Dori has been diagnosed with RSV, aka respiratory syncytial virus. RSV is common in very young children.

Due to this setback, she has been admitted to Vanderbilt. The doctors want to be sure the virus doesn't result in pneumonia. She could be there another four days, the staff has told her.

This is Dori's second setback in a month. The first was likely catching the H1N1. We're quite sure she caught that and the RSV through exposure at her school.

Dori knows I have been quite concerned she is working almost around the clock less than two years after her transplant. The RSV diagnosis could be a blessing. Dori is reflecting on how much of the apple she should be biting and chewing at this point.

My advice to her has been to gather all the information, then think about it. She may be able to postpone getting her Master's in Education, which would free up 15 hours a week.

For now, it's all about getting better at VUMC. At night, Dori sleeps under a tent and breathes special air. The kids and I brought her lunch today; we had to wear masks. Dori looks fine, just run down like you and I would after a long month. Her blood counts Friday looked excellent. We just need them to stay up there. With rest, a lighter schedule and some good blessings, I'm confident we'll be ok.

I am fortunate I have great family to support us, as well as some very good friends. The kids were at my Mom's Friday and Saturday, allowing me to catch up with some college buddies Friday night and tailgate before the Vanderbilt-Ole Miss game last night.

Dori actually called me at the tailgate yesterday afternoon to tell me she was on her way to VUMC. She insisted I stay with my friends. I did. At the game, I thought of three things - Dori's condition, the ineptitude of Vanderbilt's offense, and being sure not to let this news ruin my friends' weekend. I should add that Will asked some frank questions about his Mom's condition. I thought about Will's query a lot, too. The positive is he isn't internalizing this. But it sucks he has to ask what could happen.

Positively, I ran well early this morning, despite little sleep, in 48 degree weather. I completed the 13.3 in 2 hours, 19 minutes, a 10:28/mile pace. I did good work on some hills and simulated the race with shorter fuel and stretch breaks. It's easier to run through pain when you're processing tough news. It's almost like the running pain doesn't equate to the pain one experiences during significant setbacks and challenges in life.

New Ground

Date Night was a total blast, as was sleeping in Saturday. I woke up at 4:30 to a lightning show and heavy rain. I hoped my running buddies bagged their run.

They did, and rescheduled for 6:00 this morning. Under clear skies and 57 degrees, Eddie, Jim and I were joined by Heather, Sara, Joelle and Kristen. The ladies were sniping about the cold ... Go figure! Team Chicago's plan was to run 13, as they are two weeks from their 26.2 in the Windy City. I hoped to run at least 19.

At Mile Two, a runner in his late 50s, looking fitter than Lance Armstrong, joined us. We could tell he was looking for company. So Mike joined us. Mike the Slacker has run 170 marathons and nearly 90 ultra marathons. I told him the only Ultra this group would ever do with him was a Michelob Ultra.

At Mile 10, Eddie, the only runner not signed up for a marathon, started talking like he wanted to run 20. We branched off, heading back on the Grassland course along Old Natchez Road and the Harpeth River, which was high from all the rain. The rest of the fun, feisty group, which included Jim, a lymphoma survivor, and Kristen, who had three heart surgeries when she was young, headed back to Grassland Elementary, our starting point.

Eddie and I found a rhythm. But around Mile 14 in some hills in the Montpier subdivision, Eddie's knee started to bother him. We settled on 10:15s, the pace Eddie and his swollen knee seemed to prefer.

At Mile 16, we hit the famed Old Natchez hill for the second time before turning right on Moran Road. I felt decent through 17.5. Eddie was hurting but showing guts. At 18.5, I started to feel it in my back. In fact, I was now feeling it all over. Eddie and I kept encouraging each other, finishing 19.6 miles in 3 hours, 30 minutes, a 10:44/mile pace. We made five pit stops, averaging five minutes at each. I won't have that luxury October 25th.

19.6 is a new milestone for me (by 3.6 miles) and for tough Eddie. The run was great preparation for the big kahuna in less than a month. I'm sore and have a mild headache. Otherwise, all is well. I will run one more long one soon and then start tapering.

Date Night

Running this week has been challenging. I think it's a combination of oppressive humidity, the cumulative effect of training and a minor cold.

Tonight is Date Night for Dori and me. Tomorrow, I won't be running in 72 degree dewpoint. Sunday looks better weather-wise.

Let the weekend begin, FNF-style. As a teenager, I stayed up late to watch The Avengers, a British series with Patrick Macnee and sorta Dori-look-alike, Diana Rigg (aka Emma Peel). Cool chick, cool series and a cool tune.



Musical project, The Traveling Wilburys, produced a super album circa 1988. Tom Petty, George Harrison, Jeff Lynne, Roy Orbison and Bob Dylan ... It's pretty hard to blow that up, proof positive here and here.



In the spirit of Date Night, some offerings that should resonate - Dori tunes. Enjoy!

Chased By Lightning

I woke up at 5, wanting very much to sleep in and certainly not run. But Hal Higdon's marathon training schedule said otherwise.

In my own early morning fog, I checked Weather.com. Heavy rain was approaching from the south. Using plotting skills perfected through many watches on the bridge of a naval warship - and too much coffee-induced analysis with quartermasters and boatswain's mates - I deducted the storm would arrive around 6 sharp, enough time for a four-miler.

At Mile Two, the lightning looked too close for comfort. Naval plotter was now running faster. Prudently, I veered on a side street, cutting off a half mile. At Mile Three, the thunder started. Lightning was closer. I wasn't happy. My body wasn't either. Running fast at 5:35 with sore muscles from a 16-miler over the weekend wasn't the equation I needed.

I cruised into the house, perspiring heavily. It's still muggy here. It's rained eight straight days, too, in spots. After a muggy weekend, the long-term forecast calls for fall-like temps. Bout da**ed time.

A reminder of what this is all about: Cape Cod Marathon preview

Nice Run!

Kathryn made a statement today in cross country.

After Will ran a 7:40/mile, an improvement from last week, Kathryn's group lined up for their run. Will noticed Kathryn jump out quickly from the pack of about 70 girls. "Look at Kathryn!" he yelled. "Wow," I agreed. "She looks determined."

As the group charged to the top of a hill at a quarter mile, I counted Kathryn in 13th place. Hope she stays up there, I thought. She's always been around the Top 20, but never in the Top 15. The girls disappeared, to return at about the .6 mile point.

Two or three fluid runners appeared, then a few more, then Kathryn. She was now 11th, with several girls right behind her. Powerfully, Dori yelled, "GO KATHRYN!!!" I noticed Kathryn running with purpose for the first time in her young life. Her posture was perfect, a slightly forward lean. Her breathing looked relaxed. Her arms and legs were in sync. Will and Dori noticed it, too.

"You look great! Keep it up!" we yelled. Pepper, showing school spirit decked in a red shirt, wagged his tail agreeingly.

As Dori and I jogged to the finish line, Dori asked, "Where is this coming from? Where did she get this?" I said, "Us." But it really is more than that. Kathryn has learned to battle, I said to myself. She has taken it upon herself to do this.

I wondered if she'd fade the last quarter mile. When I looked out on the course, I saw her staying near the front pack, which then disappeared around a bend.

The first three girls came in between 6:30 and 6:50. Then four more arrived. In the next pack, Kathryn was in a sprint, trying to catch a few girls. They held on, but so did she. She finished 11th (was it 10th?) in 7:35 on a very muggy day. Will stood at the exit to congratulate his sister. Dori beamed. I hung out with Pepper and focused on not getting too high from the performance. Kathryn has had some rough runs, and I'd made sure not to get down on her or let her mope. This was a new challenge.

When she saw me, she smiled. I smiled back, and gave her a knuckle-to-knuckle high five. "Awesome run, Kathryn." "Thanks, Dad," she said. Then she shared what her goal had been.

"I didn't want to lose sight of Mackenzie," her friend who finished third and one of the best 11-year-old athletes in Nashville.

Leaving the course, all I could think of was how delightful this was to share as a family. I thought of Dori's battle to get to this point and all the people who supported her. Kathryn performed well today. And Dori was here to see it.

Positive Trends

The kind of trends we like to see, in large part due to your charity and giving:

Cancer deaths among young declining
Young blood cancer patients living longer

Also positive: I'm not very sore today. Kathryn and I walked a ways to watch the Vanderbilt game last night. I think that helped.

Watching the Dores get smoked 15-3 didn't. We endured gross incompetence from Vandy's offensive coordinator, who acted like he never planned for blitz packages. Ever hear of a screen pass? Sheesh. Run it, dude.