It's been a while since my last post and I apologize for that. Given the fact that this blog is called Running for Max it seem like I should actually be running before I start posting again. Yeah...wellll....since the marathon I haven't ran a single step. Now in my defense life around here has not exactly been a barrel of laughs. We lost a man that has left a huge hole in our lives. My father-in law died on May 2nd after a relatively short illness. It has been every bit as bad as I had always imagined it would be and my heart breaks every day seeing the people that I love in pain and knowing there is nothing that I can do about it.
While it would be easy to focus on his death and how sad it has been and how much we all miss him, instead I am going to celebrate the man's life from my perspective. I think that everybody should know about Larry and how he affected my life and how I saw him affect the lives of other people around him.
My life with Larry started in the summer of 1992. I had started seeing a beautiful young girl from Natick and one day I was invited to her house. The reason why is lost in my memory but it really isn't relevant. I was introduced to her father who greeted me with a smile and a warm handshake. Luckily for me my handshake was firm because Larry always said that the way a person shook your hand would tell you a lot about them. A weak, limp wristed handshake indicated a weak, self concious person while a strong handshake spoke of a self assured and strong person. I passed test #1. How do I know that I passed this first test? Well before I said my goodbyes that day, Larry presented me with a coupon. What store do you suppose that coupon was for??? That's right, a coupon to Condom World. This is the father of the girls I was dating! Not only that but, although I didn't know it at the time, Kristen was his baby...his little girl...I had no idea at the time how close a relationship that they had.
As time went on and Kristen and I became more serious, I was welcomed into the Maletta family with open arms. I kind of think that this had more to do with the guy I was replacing more than anything special that I had done. It was kind of like getting a new job and everybody praises you for how great you are doing but the fact of the matter is that the last guy who had the job was such a complete f*** up that anyone else would be a genious by comparison.
From day one Larry treated me like a son. He offered help whenever he thought it was needed. He offered advice (even when it wasn't asked for ) and he offered support even though it was sometimes turned down. And all of these things were done with love and without strings attached. He wanted nothing in return except for me to be a good father and a good husband. I was, after all, responsible for his daughter and his grandchildren. I didn't always meet the expectations that I had for myself but as long as I was out there trying, he never made me feel like I was inadequate or that I wasn't good enough.
Larry was not without his quirks, however. You see, he had such a big heart and such a big sense of responsibility that he wanted to fix everything. When he couldn't, he would often times assign blame first. One of my favorite quintissential Larry stories had to do with my sister-in-law Beth who was carrying my niece Jenny through Larry's yard in Natick when she tripped over a drain pipe and laned in the driveway. Both her and Jenny were hurt and Jenny was crying pretty loudly. When they made it in the house did Larry rush to see if everyone was ok? No. He said to Beth "What are you doing walking in the driveway?!?" As if walking in the driveway was the most dangerous and irresponsible thing she could have been doing. Of course, once the shock wore off, he would help to bandage the wounds and offer comfort.
His generosity was beyond question. I have had some of the best times of my life because he was there to pay. He took his whole family to Ogunquit, Maine and put us all up in a hotel for HIS anniversary. That was the year that we sat outside in a jacuzzi while it was snowing out. It was also the year that some of us embarrassed ourselves singing karaoke at the Ogunquit Bar and Grill. Larry wasn't with us at the bar that night but if it wasn't for him none of us would have been and we wouldn't have that memory.
I look back with a smile on my face and think about going to Red Sox games with Larry and my brother-in-law Jim. I would get the tickets from a contact at work and I would invite Larry. He would more often than not refuse to go because he had always had a bad back and the thought of spending 4 or so hours in one of those seats at Fenway would make anyones back hurt. He would, however, accept once in a while and it was around this time that Jim and I came up with the "Three Refusal Rule". You see, Larry wanted to pay for EVERYTHING. Parking, food, souveniers...whatever. If it cost money he wanted it to be his money. While Jim and I always appreciated his generosity, we didn't think it was fair for Larry to pay all the time. However, as anyone who knew him could attest, Larry was a VERY stubborn man and when he dug his heels in you really had no shot. So Jim and I came up with this rule that we would refuse Larry's money three time and then ultimately accept it. When Larry wanted to pay for parking a typical conversation would go like this:
Larry: "Here...Let me get the parking"
Me (or Jim): "No, Larry I got this"
Larry: "No... Here...Take this." **he holds out the money**
Me (or Jim): "No No No I got this. It's OK"
Larry : **still holding out the money** "You drove...Please let me pay for the parking"
Me (or Jim) : "Really, Larry...I already planned on paying for this. Put your money away"
Larry : **now beginning to get a little angry** "I am paying for this so take it"
Me (or Jim): "Ok fine" **and we take his money**
Now keep in mind neither Jim nor I would ever make any kind of effort to pull out our own wallets during this exchange. We refused him 3 times and then, because we knew he would never give up, we would let him pay. The funny thing about this is that Larry knew what we were doing and he LOVED it. He liked spending time with us and we loved spending time with him. He was a father figure to both of us but he was also a friend. How many people can say that about their father-in-law?
I know that he loved his immediate family more than he loved anything else. I saw evidence of that everyday. He couldn't help looking out for his kids even though they were adults and could make their own decisions. He worried about them like every father does but Larry always took it just a little bit farther. When a big snowstorm was coming you could always count on an e-mail coming that reminded you to make sure that you had gas in your snowblower. When daylight savings time rolled around there was another e-mail that reminded you to change your clocks. Oh...and while you are at it, you better change the batteries in your smoke detector too. He loved me but it was my wife that was his baby. You couldn't be in the room with the two of them for more than a few minutes without seeing the bond that they shared. It was often times annoying but in the end I was jealous. I wasn't jealous that she loved him as much as she did but because, although I loved my own father very much, we never had the kind of bond that they did. I'm not sure that I have ever met anyone that did.
Whether he was hosting the Fourth of July party or cooking lobsters at Lobsterfest, Larry was bigger than life. He was a force in any room that he was in. He wasn't loud or self serving. He bore his own demons quietly and without complaint. He was a patriot, a husband, a brother, an uncle, a grandfather and to more than just his own kids, a father. He held all of these titles with pride. I know that I am a better man for having known him and I will miss him everyday.
Rest in peace Larry. I will try to make you proud.
Cent'anni
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
A Tale of Two Marathons - Part 2
So here we are...we have just passed the girls at Wellesley College and I feel OK. Sure my feet and legs are starting to hurt but that's normal...right. Besides I only have...WHAT!!...I still have 1/2 of the race left. Ahhhh...crap. I knew at this point that things were going to get bad...really bad. I have only run 2 prior marathons so I am not really an expert but I do know my own body and I knew at about the halfway point that things were going to go downhill rather quickly and I still have to make it over the hills of Newton.
As I crossed route 128 in Wellesley my quad muscles were starting to get really sore so, in my infinate wisdom, decided to take a moment and stretch out those muscles. Well being the picture of physical fitness that I am and given the fact that I had already run 16 or so miles and ALL my muscles were stiff and sore, when I tried to do this I ended up pulling a muscle in my neck that hurt SO bad that I honestly thought that I was going to pass out. I abandoned the idea of stretching my legs and focused solely on not colapsing in the middle of the street and writhing in pain until the sweet relief of unconciousness overtook me. I am happy to say that after a few minutes of a shambling zombie-like walk, the cramp in my neck slowly released and I was able to resume my race to glory. At this point I still had an outside shot of meeting my goal of finishing in under 5 hours.
Now, the neck cramp happened, as I said, on the bridge over 128 in Wellesley and I had hoped that that would be the worse thing that happened to me for the rest of the race. However, as I passed Newton-Wellesley Hospital (only a few hundred yards later) a new problem popped up. The muscle that is just above and a little toward the inside of my left knee began to spasm. I got so bad that I had to stop and try to massage it out. When that didn't really work I began to limp forward and think about what to do next. I discovered that after a few minutes of walking the cramp worked its way out and I could resume running. This lasted for maybe a mile or so when the same muscle began to cramp again but this time it was joined
by the same muscle on my right leg. ~awesome~
So for the next 10 miles both of my knees would spasm, painfully, on and off. Along with this delightful annoyance I was also dealing with increasingly painful quad muscles as well as feet that were starting to hurt as bad as I have ever felt. The fact that I had to stop so often to try to rub out the cramps essentially ended whatever remote shot I had in finishing in under 5 hours. Now don't get me wrong, the second half of the race wasn't all bad. You still run into some great spectators who really push you along and help you get through the tough miles. After you crest Heartbreak hill at mile 20 the rest of the race is downhill and it takes you through Brighton and it is in this area where you see the bulk of the college kids come out. Now, when you are running near the back of the pack (as I am) you don't get past the Newton hills until about 4 hours after the start. By this time the students from some of the countries best colleges and universities are...oh, how should I put it...ah what the hell...they are drunk...very drunk and they are having a good time. It is one of the things that takes your mind off the pain, They still shout out encouragement to you but it is not always the most coherent of platitudes. I'm not judging them, I'm just jealous because they are having a MUCH better time than I am at that point.
So as the last few miles s l o w l y pass by I can't help thinking "are they moving the mile markers further and further apart?" 'cuz it seem like each mile is 6 miles long. When I hit mile 23 or so I start to have conflicting emotions. On the one hand I am excited that I am only 3 miles away from the finish but on the other hand I feel like there is nothing that I want to do less than run another step. It is hard, at this point, to not think about how far you have left to go and for me that is the worst possible thought to have. To be constantly looking for the next mile marker and not see it fills me with something like despair.
However, once I cross the Mass Pike and I see the road dip below a bridge, I know that the six greatest words in the english language are coming up. ***Right on Hereford, Left on Boylston*** I want to tell you, there is nothing sweeter than coming up the hill from under that bridger and seeing the turn for Hereford Street. It is at this point, two years ago in my first marathon that I actually said to myself "Holy Shit! I just ran the Boston Marathon" This year it was more of a feeling of surviving the marathon rather than just running it.
And then comes the turn onto Boylston Street...The finish line looks so close and so far away at the same time. Of course the first order of business is to find my family who are always waiting for me there and for Max to come running out onto the road to meet me. This year Max brought out a phone with him and I was able to talk to my mother as I was crossing the finish line. My favorite moment is when Max and I raise our arms in celebratuion as we cross that bright blue line. It. is. AWESOME.
So another Boston Marathon is in the books. I didn't finish first and I didn't finish last. It was the hardest of the three marathons that I have run but in a way the most rewarding. This year I saw a lot more examples of how grueling the marathon can be as I watched several people being tended to by medical staff along the course. I watched a poor young women writhing in pain as searing leg cramps overtook her. I watched paramedics rushing to a man that had collapsed on the side of the road in Newton. Boston has beaten better men than me so I am proud that I finshed even though I didn't reach my goal.
Thanks to everyone who supported me and donated to NF, you are the real heroes. But most of all thanks to Max who inspires me every day.
Althought the marathon is over for this year that doesn't mean that I am going to stop writing in this blog. I will continue to run for Max and maybe have some thoughts about some other things too.
Til Next time....
As I crossed route 128 in Wellesley my quad muscles were starting to get really sore so, in my infinate wisdom, decided to take a moment and stretch out those muscles. Well being the picture of physical fitness that I am and given the fact that I had already run 16 or so miles and ALL my muscles were stiff and sore, when I tried to do this I ended up pulling a muscle in my neck that hurt SO bad that I honestly thought that I was going to pass out. I abandoned the idea of stretching my legs and focused solely on not colapsing in the middle of the street and writhing in pain until the sweet relief of unconciousness overtook me. I am happy to say that after a few minutes of a shambling zombie-like walk, the cramp in my neck slowly released and I was able to resume my race to glory. At this point I still had an outside shot of meeting my goal of finishing in under 5 hours.
Now, the neck cramp happened, as I said, on the bridge over 128 in Wellesley and I had hoped that that would be the worse thing that happened to me for the rest of the race. However, as I passed Newton-Wellesley Hospital (only a few hundred yards later) a new problem popped up. The muscle that is just above and a little toward the inside of my left knee began to spasm. I got so bad that I had to stop and try to massage it out. When that didn't really work I began to limp forward and think about what to do next. I discovered that after a few minutes of walking the cramp worked its way out and I could resume running. This lasted for maybe a mile or so when the same muscle began to cramp again but this time it was joined
by the same muscle on my right leg. ~awesome~
So for the next 10 miles both of my knees would spasm, painfully, on and off. Along with this delightful annoyance I was also dealing with increasingly painful quad muscles as well as feet that were starting to hurt as bad as I have ever felt. The fact that I had to stop so often to try to rub out the cramps essentially ended whatever remote shot I had in finishing in under 5 hours. Now don't get me wrong, the second half of the race wasn't all bad. You still run into some great spectators who really push you along and help you get through the tough miles. After you crest Heartbreak hill at mile 20 the rest of the race is downhill and it takes you through Brighton and it is in this area where you see the bulk of the college kids come out. Now, when you are running near the back of the pack (as I am) you don't get past the Newton hills until about 4 hours after the start. By this time the students from some of the countries best colleges and universities are...oh, how should I put it...ah what the hell...they are drunk...very drunk and they are having a good time. It is one of the things that takes your mind off the pain, They still shout out encouragement to you but it is not always the most coherent of platitudes. I'm not judging them, I'm just jealous because they are having a MUCH better time than I am at that point.
So as the last few miles s l o w l y pass by I can't help thinking "are they moving the mile markers further and further apart?" 'cuz it seem like each mile is 6 miles long. When I hit mile 23 or so I start to have conflicting emotions. On the one hand I am excited that I am only 3 miles away from the finish but on the other hand I feel like there is nothing that I want to do less than run another step. It is hard, at this point, to not think about how far you have left to go and for me that is the worst possible thought to have. To be constantly looking for the next mile marker and not see it fills me with something like despair.
However, once I cross the Mass Pike and I see the road dip below a bridge, I know that the six greatest words in the english language are coming up. ***Right on Hereford, Left on Boylston*** I want to tell you, there is nothing sweeter than coming up the hill from under that bridger and seeing the turn for Hereford Street. It is at this point, two years ago in my first marathon that I actually said to myself "Holy Shit! I just ran the Boston Marathon" This year it was more of a feeling of surviving the marathon rather than just running it.
And then comes the turn onto Boylston Street...The finish line looks so close and so far away at the same time. Of course the first order of business is to find my family who are always waiting for me there and for Max to come running out onto the road to meet me. This year Max brought out a phone with him and I was able to talk to my mother as I was crossing the finish line. My favorite moment is when Max and I raise our arms in celebratuion as we cross that bright blue line. It. is. AWESOME.
Here I am with Max in one hand and my mother on the phone in the other.
Before I forget, I want to send a shout out to Chris Welch, a fellow runner that was running in his first marathon. Thanks, Chris, for keeping me company and sharing my misery near the end. Congratulations on finishing Boston.
Thanks to everyone who supported me and donated to NF, you are the real heroes. But most of all thanks to Max who inspires me every day.
Althought the marathon is over for this year that doesn't mean that I am going to stop writing in this blog. I will continue to run for Max and maybe have some thoughts about some other things too.
Til Next time....
Thursday, April 22, 2010
5:33:20 - A Tale of Two Marathons - Part 1
The 114th running of the Boston Marathon is in the books and I am proud to say that I finished it. I am not happy to report, though, that I did not meet my goal of finishing in under 5 hours. I wish I could say that the weather was to blame for my time or that there were some other factor beyond my control that contributed to a slower pace than I wanted, but the fact is that I have no one to blame but mysef. The weather was fine. It was a little warm when the sun was out and a little cool when the clouds took over but over all it was good running weather. No, the problem was me (cuz let's face it, running is not exactly a team sport). My lack of training in the two months leading up to the marathon are what did me in. For me, this year was a tale of two marathons. The first half and the second half.
The day started out good. The weather was sunny but cool when my cousin Scotty arrived at my house for the trip into Hopkinton. He was as excited as a kid on Christmas. You see, Scotty grew up in Natick AND he is a real runner, so running in The Boston Marathon was beyond exciting for him. We took a couple of pictures on our deck and I want you to notice the difference in outfits between he and I.
We were pumped and ready! Kristen dropped us off as close to the starting line as we could get but that still means that we had to walk for a mile and a half or so to get to athletes villiage. Once there we took in the sights and drank in the palpable excitement that hangs all over that area.
Then it was time to head to the starting line. Where we would wait in a sea of runners for the 10:30 start of wave 2.
The day started out good. The weather was sunny but cool when my cousin Scotty arrived at my house for the trip into Hopkinton. He was as excited as a kid on Christmas. You see, Scotty grew up in Natick AND he is a real runner, so running in The Boston Marathon was beyond exciting for him. We took a couple of pictures on our deck and I want you to notice the difference in outfits between he and I.
Aren't you digging Scotty's short shorts
...and I'm dressed for running the Iditarod
We were pumped and ready! Kristen dropped us off as close to the starting line as we could get but that still means that we had to walk for a mile and a half or so to get to athletes villiage. Once there we took in the sights and drank in the palpable excitement that hangs all over that area.
We also did the goofy things that everyone does.
Then it was time to head to the starting line. Where we would wait in a sea of runners for the 10:30 start of wave 2.
I know the picture quality sucks but this is a shot looking down Rt 135 toward the starting line.
10:30 came and we took off like a shot...oh wait...no we didn't we walked, slowly, toward the starting line for about 10 minutes. THEN, we were off like a shot. I am proud to say that I beat Scotty to the starting line. However that would be the last that I saw of him as he got into his stride and quickly pulled away from me as I searched frantically for a quiet spot on the side of the road to pee. By the way, you really haven't lived until you have peed off the side of the road while you hear cheering from spectators and the din of several thousand runners going past you. Very surreal.
After, my obligitory early race bathroom break I settled into my stride. I felt pretty good and as the miles ticked away I noticed that I was averaging about a ten and a half minute mile which was faster than the 11 1/2 minute mile pace that I needed to reach my 5 hour goal. Everything was feeling good and I was having a great time with the spectators. There are not many times in your life (unless you are lucky enough to be a professional athlete) when you can hear a group of strangers chant your name but that is exactly what happens about a dozen or more times during the race. The high fives, the shouts of ecouragement and updates of the score of the Red Sox game are all part of the great experience that is the Boston Marathon. It really is fun.
What is also fun is seeing people you know along the route and especially seeing your family who have fought road closures and crowds to see you for about 10 seconds. My family is always in Natick center and it always makes me smile to see them as I head throught the intersection of Rt 135 and Rt 27.
Heading toward the family
I don't know what's going on with my face here
I gotta go. I have a race to run
Shortly after I left my family a man sitting on the side of the road called out my name and when I looked up at him this rather stout, older gentleman said to me "Scott!...You look great but could you pick up the pace a little?" I smiled and looked back at him and asked if he would be willing to show me what my pace should be. He laughed and gestured toward his prodigious belly and said "What...are you kidding? Look at me. " Like I said, I was having fun.
One of the things that I look forward to most during the marathon is what they call "The Scream Tunnel". This, of course, refers to the girls of Wellsely College that turn out in huge numbers to cheer on the runners. You hear them long before you can see them and there is a certain amount of anticipation that the runners get as they approach the tunnel. When you get there the sound is deafening. A solid mile of high fives and signs offering kisses to any runner that would like one. I can't tell who has more fun the girls or the runners.
Unfortunately, for me, this was about where things started to come apart and I will delve into the second half of the race in part 2 of this post.
Til then...
Sunday, April 18, 2010
People Who Rock III
$2,000 BABY!!! Goal #1 has been reached!!! Tomorrow is the marathon and I have reached the first of the two goals that I set for myself this year. The second goal is to finish the race in under 5 hours. That goal I can rely on no one but myself but the 1st goal could not have been reached without the help of many, many people. I have mentioned a number of people that have helped me reach this goal and now it is time to recognize some more people who rock.
Before I forget, I want to make sure that I mention the people who donated but not on the firstgiving website. First off there is another of my Theatre Group friends, Ed Quinlan, who is a lawyer who rocks.
Then there is the strange case of a donation that I received from un-named people from Studio 109 in Millis. Their haircuts rock and now we all know that they rock as well.
Charles Gobron is an old friend of my wife that I have met only a handful of times but he gave very generously so it is obvious that he rocks.
There is Jonathan Steeves who is a REAL runner that is the epitome of rock-i-tude.
How about my old boss from Gillette Stadium, Bret Hartley. Does he rock? Well I'll give you three guesses but you're only gonna need one.
There is my favorite oldest sister Jean who has rocked since I came home from the hospital after I was born and she would rush into the bedroom and look at me. (That one's for you Jean)
As I have said before, I was recently in a production of a play called Two Into One and I played opposite of a man named Bob O'Neil. He rocked in that play and he rocks in general.
I have an old friend that, through the miracle that is Facebook, I have recently got back in touch with. His name is Pat Sibley and he has a beautiful wife named Erin. I knew when I was in their wedding over 20 years ago that they rocked and I am happy to report that they still do.
I have mentioned before that our old Eden Street neighbors, Terri, Dom and Vito rock and because they donated twice I think it is clear that they rock twice as hard.
There is a girl from my past name Pam Devin (well when I knew her her last name wasn't Devin but that kind of thing happens when you don't see a person for a couple of decades) anyway she rocked then and she rocks now.
As if I haven't mentioned enough of my theatre group friends, here is another one. The ever beautiful and ever vivacious Donna Cabibo ; if you live in and around Millis you know Donna and you are aware of how much she and her whole family rocks.
At the risk of being repetitive...ah screw it... I'll be as repetitive as I want about just how much my sister-in law Julie Parsons ROCKS!
And finally...my mother-in-law Caryl who continues to rock even though she is not having the best of springs. Keep the faith Caryl. We are all right there with you.
Oh...one last thing about people who rock. If there were an award show for people who rock (Maybe we'll call them The Rockies) there would be one name that would be mentioned more than any other. She would win Rocker of the Year..hell they would even name the Rock Lifetime Acheivement Award after her and then give it to her every year. This remarkable person is my wife, Kristen. She has had a lousy year and a half and yet she still finds the time to support me every step of the way during my marathon training, fundraising and run. Believe me when I tell you, when it comes to the race of who has the most rock-someness, we are all just trying for second place. Thank you Kristen...YOU ROCK!!
Now it is time to try to get some sleep because it seems to me that I have something to do tomorrow. I can't quite remeber what it is but I'm sure it will come to me.
Til next time...
Before I forget, I want to make sure that I mention the people who donated but not on the firstgiving website. First off there is another of my Theatre Group friends, Ed Quinlan, who is a lawyer who rocks.
Then there is the strange case of a donation that I received from un-named people from Studio 109 in Millis. Their haircuts rock and now we all know that they rock as well.
Charles Gobron is an old friend of my wife that I have met only a handful of times but he gave very generously so it is obvious that he rocks.
There is Jonathan Steeves who is a REAL runner that is the epitome of rock-i-tude.
How about my old boss from Gillette Stadium, Bret Hartley. Does he rock? Well I'll give you three guesses but you're only gonna need one.
There is my favorite oldest sister Jean who has rocked since I came home from the hospital after I was born and she would rush into the bedroom and look at me. (That one's for you Jean)
As I have said before, I was recently in a production of a play called Two Into One and I played opposite of a man named Bob O'Neil. He rocked in that play and he rocks in general.
I have an old friend that, through the miracle that is Facebook, I have recently got back in touch with. His name is Pat Sibley and he has a beautiful wife named Erin. I knew when I was in their wedding over 20 years ago that they rocked and I am happy to report that they still do.
I have mentioned before that our old Eden Street neighbors, Terri, Dom and Vito rock and because they donated twice I think it is clear that they rock twice as hard.
There is a girl from my past name Pam Devin (well when I knew her her last name wasn't Devin but that kind of thing happens when you don't see a person for a couple of decades) anyway she rocked then and she rocks now.
As if I haven't mentioned enough of my theatre group friends, here is another one. The ever beautiful and ever vivacious Donna Cabibo ; if you live in and around Millis you know Donna and you are aware of how much she and her whole family rocks.
At the risk of being repetitive...ah screw it... I'll be as repetitive as I want about just how much my sister-in law Julie Parsons ROCKS!
And finally...my mother-in-law Caryl who continues to rock even though she is not having the best of springs. Keep the faith Caryl. We are all right there with you.
Oh...one last thing about people who rock. If there were an award show for people who rock (Maybe we'll call them The Rockies) there would be one name that would be mentioned more than any other. She would win Rocker of the Year..hell they would even name the Rock Lifetime Acheivement Award after her and then give it to her every year. This remarkable person is my wife, Kristen. She has had a lousy year and a half and yet she still finds the time to support me every step of the way during my marathon training, fundraising and run. Believe me when I tell you, when it comes to the race of who has the most rock-someness, we are all just trying for second place. Thank you Kristen...YOU ROCK!!
Now it is time to try to get some sleep because it seems to me that I have something to do tomorrow. I can't quite remeber what it is but I'm sure it will come to me.
Til next time...
Number Pick-up Day
Yesterday was number pick up day at the Hynes convention Center in Boston so Kristen, the boys and I along with the Christensens all climbed aboard the green line and headed into the big city. The Hynes on the weekend before the marathon is always an adventure. Along with 25,000 runners picking up their numbers and shirts there is a sporting goods expo that can only be described as complete chaos. Being the geniuses that we are we decided that it would be a good idea to wander through the expo with 5 kids who have dressed for the walk from t-stop to the Hynes (cold and drizzly). When you get about 10,000 people in a single enclosed room it tends to be a tad warm so all of the sweatshirts that we made them where now are making them miserable. (and this doesn't even take into consideration the stress of having to keep track of 5 kids in that crowd)
Now having said all of that I have to say that I love number pick up day. I love going into Boston with the whole family and seeing the throngs of runners, all excited to be this close to the marathon and all excited to be taking a tangible step toward race day. I can't really descibe or explain the charge I get out of the simple act of picking up my number. It somehow just seems so....I don't know...exclusive? I know that is a little counter intuitive because how can something that is done every year by 25,000 other people be an exclusive thing. I don't know...maybe I'm just a dork. Anyway...although this looks like it was taken at a police station here is a picture of Scotty, Max and I at the Hynes.
Normally we would take the day to go to the swan boats or take in some other sights around Boston but yesterday was just a little too crappy, weather-wise. But, we did take a walk down to the finish line as we always do only to find that Boyalston Street was still open and we couldn't get right at the finish line but we did get these pics.
The Christensens
...and my personal favorite
Now having said all of that I have to say that I love number pick up day. I love going into Boston with the whole family and seeing the throngs of runners, all excited to be this close to the marathon and all excited to be taking a tangible step toward race day. I can't really descibe or explain the charge I get out of the simple act of picking up my number. It somehow just seems so....I don't know...exclusive? I know that is a little counter intuitive because how can something that is done every year by 25,000 other people be an exclusive thing. I don't know...maybe I'm just a dork. Anyway...although this looks like it was taken at a police station here is a picture of Scotty, Max and I at the Hynes.
Not the best picture of any of us but what do you want for nothin'
Normally we would take the day to go to the swan boats or take in some other sights around Boston but yesterday was just a little too crappy, weather-wise. But, we did take a walk down to the finish line as we always do only to find that Boyalston Street was still open and we couldn't get right at the finish line but we did get these pics.
The Days
...and my personal favorite
How you Doin'?
Many, Many thanks to the Christensens for a fantastic day and a fantastic spaghetti dinner afterwords. You guys are AWESOME.
There will probably be another post later today to update everyone on my fundraising goal. You won't want to miss it.
Til next time...
Friday, April 16, 2010
Three Days to Go...
Three days to go...
The training is done and all that is left is the waiting. I am not as ready as I would like to be. I wanted to come into this week feeling good about my training and without any worries about any part of my body. Well, I have run exactly twice in the last 3 weeks and every time I run my left foot gives me trouble. But...as I am fond of saying...No guts, No glory. So you can bet that I am going to show up in Hopkinton on Monday give it everything I got. This year I have a little extra incentive going for me. While my main inspiration is, and will always be, my oldest son, Max and his daily battle with NF, I want to also run this for another strong individual that is in the midst of the battle of his life. As you may or may not know my father-in-law Larry Maletta has been in the hospital for the last month recovering from bleeding in his brain. Two weeks ago he was transferred to a rehab facility in Natick and he has made amazing strides in his recovery. One might say inspirational strides. He is lucky to be alive and we are all lucky to have him in our lives. I know he would be insanely aggrevated that I am saying this but too bad Larry, there is nothing you can do about it except get better and yell at me later.
The weather on Monday looks like it will be OK. My girl, JC Monahan, says that it will be partly cloudy and in the low 50's with a slight N-NW wind. So now is the time that I begin to obsess about how to dress for the race. Real runners never have this problem. It is always shorts and a tank top or t-shirt. But for me, I am such a pussy about being too cold or too hot that, unless it is 30 degrees or 80 degrees , I never know what to wear. You have no idea how many times between now and Monday morning I will change what I plan on wearing. Even when Monday rolls around I will probably end up bringing half of my entire running wardrobe to Hopkinton, you know...just in case. But, before you judge me for this particular personality quirk, keep in mind that last year at the finish line my temperature was 92 degrees. Now I never attended any kind of medical school but I am pretty sure that I heard somewhere that 92 is not an ideal body temp. So I am a little gun shy of under dressing.
I am looking forward to heading out tomorrow to the Hynes Convention Center in Boston to pick up my number. This year, along with my wife Kristen and our boys, we are going to go in with our cousins Scotty and Jeanette and their two boys. Scotty is running in his first Boston Marathon but make no mistake about it he is no rookie. Scotty is one of those people that I consider a REAL runner. He has run in 5K's, 10K,s triathalons, firefighter challenges, you name it he has done it. He's one of those looneys that you see out running at 4:30 in the morning when the temperature is in single digits and he is wearing shorts. Scotty is also running to raise money and awarness of NF and for that we are very, very grateful. Good luck Scotty. While I wont see you at the finish line (as he will be back home, showered and have his third beer in his hand by the time I cross the finish line) I will see you back at the house. I hope to have pictures from tomorrow's trip that I can post here before monday.
As always don't forget to DONATE DONATE DONATE. Your generosity means more that you will ever understand. I WILL aknowledge more people who rock before Monday so be on the lookout for that.
Til next time...
The training is done and all that is left is the waiting. I am not as ready as I would like to be. I wanted to come into this week feeling good about my training and without any worries about any part of my body. Well, I have run exactly twice in the last 3 weeks and every time I run my left foot gives me trouble. But...as I am fond of saying...No guts, No glory. So you can bet that I am going to show up in Hopkinton on Monday give it everything I got. This year I have a little extra incentive going for me. While my main inspiration is, and will always be, my oldest son, Max and his daily battle with NF, I want to also run this for another strong individual that is in the midst of the battle of his life. As you may or may not know my father-in-law Larry Maletta has been in the hospital for the last month recovering from bleeding in his brain. Two weeks ago he was transferred to a rehab facility in Natick and he has made amazing strides in his recovery. One might say inspirational strides. He is lucky to be alive and we are all lucky to have him in our lives. I know he would be insanely aggrevated that I am saying this but too bad Larry, there is nothing you can do about it except get better and yell at me later.
The weather on Monday looks like it will be OK. My girl, JC Monahan, says that it will be partly cloudy and in the low 50's with a slight N-NW wind. So now is the time that I begin to obsess about how to dress for the race. Real runners never have this problem. It is always shorts and a tank top or t-shirt. But for me, I am such a pussy about being too cold or too hot that, unless it is 30 degrees or 80 degrees , I never know what to wear. You have no idea how many times between now and Monday morning I will change what I plan on wearing. Even when Monday rolls around I will probably end up bringing half of my entire running wardrobe to Hopkinton, you know...just in case. But, before you judge me for this particular personality quirk, keep in mind that last year at the finish line my temperature was 92 degrees. Now I never attended any kind of medical school but I am pretty sure that I heard somewhere that 92 is not an ideal body temp. So I am a little gun shy of under dressing.
I am looking forward to heading out tomorrow to the Hynes Convention Center in Boston to pick up my number. This year, along with my wife Kristen and our boys, we are going to go in with our cousins Scotty and Jeanette and their two boys. Scotty is running in his first Boston Marathon but make no mistake about it he is no rookie. Scotty is one of those people that I consider a REAL runner. He has run in 5K's, 10K,s triathalons, firefighter challenges, you name it he has done it. He's one of those looneys that you see out running at 4:30 in the morning when the temperature is in single digits and he is wearing shorts. Scotty is also running to raise money and awarness of NF and for that we are very, very grateful. Good luck Scotty. While I wont see you at the finish line (as he will be back home, showered and have his third beer in his hand by the time I cross the finish line) I will see you back at the house. I hope to have pictures from tomorrow's trip that I can post here before monday.
As always don't forget to DONATE DONATE DONATE. Your generosity means more that you will ever understand. I WILL aknowledge more people who rock before Monday so be on the lookout for that.
Til next time...
Friday, April 9, 2010
More Randomness
It is only 10 days until the marathon and I must admit I am a little bit worried. No, strike that, I am A LOT worried. The cosmos seem to be conspiring against me when it comes to my training. Due to a variety of reasons I haven't been able (or willing, if we are being honest) to get out and get some miles in. I have been sick for the better part of the last two weeks and the last time I ran I think that I may have done some damage to my left knee. I don't think there is anything that will keep me out of the race but I am afraid that I may not be able to reach my goal of finishing in under 5 hours. I guess we will see in a week and a half.
On Wednesday my lovely wife, Kristen, and I (along with our cousins Scottie and Jeanette) were lucky enough to spend the evening (without kids!) at the annual NF Inc. Northeast Table for Ten benefit dinner in Boston. We ate at the Caliterra Restaurant with some awesome people that have been affected in some way shape or form by NF. The company, as well as the food, were great and I want to thank Karen Peluso for inviting us again.
***
On Wednesday my lovely wife, Kristen, and I (along with our cousins Scottie and Jeanette) were lucky enough to spend the evening (without kids!) at the annual NF Inc. Northeast Table for Ten benefit dinner in Boston. We ate at the Caliterra Restaurant with some awesome people that have been affected in some way shape or form by NF. The company, as well as the food, were great and I want to thank Karen Peluso for inviting us again.
***
Have you donated yet? NO? You really should. It will make you feel good and besides, all the cool kids are doing it. Also, while I offer no guarantees, I am pretty sure that if you donate at least $25 you will be granted the power of flight (results may vary). I am still about $700 short of my fundraising goal of $2,000 and I badly want to meet this goal so please, if you haven't already, donate. It will mean the world to me and let's face it, how cool would it be to be able to fly? (again, your results may vary)
***
My FIL is doing much better (knock on wood) and he continues to make progress every day. Thanks to everyone who sent out their prayers and good thoughts. It seems to be working. He wont be able to spray me with seltzer water (he says that champagne is too expensive) after the marathon this year but with any luck at all he will be dowsing me next year and I am already looking forward to that.
I hope to post more often but no one told me that I would have to come up with all of this crap on my own.
Til next time...
I hope to post more often but no one told me that I would have to come up with all of this crap on my own.
Til next time...
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