Final Entry

1 hour, 40 minutes, 40 seconds, that was my time in Sunday’s Philadelphia Half Marathon. 554th place out of almost 8400 runners, the top 6% of the field. The fastest half marathon of my life, shattering my old pr set over four years ago in New York. And equally as important, I did it injury free; no ankle pain, knee pain, or anything out of the ordinary --- just the usual soreness that accompanies running flat out for 13.1 miles.

Sunday’s race was a long way from when I started this blog two years ago. Back in 2008, I was struggling to regain my old running form. 5K’s and 10K’s were a challenge. I was slow and not quite steady, and honestly very frustrated at not being able to run as fast as I once had.

At the same time, Kate was in the thick of her battle against pancreatic cancer. After six months of treatment, she scored a huge victory by going into partial remission, and though she had hit a bit of a plateau in 2008, all of us were optimistic about her future. All she needed was that magical combination of drugs and treatment to deliver the final knockout punch, and she would be back to full health. She was determined and brave, and I really thought she was going to be one of the rare few to make it over the long haul.

I would describe 2010 as bittersweet. A year of resolution and almost getting back to the way my life was in 2006 --- before the injury, before the surgery and rehab, and before Kate and my grandfather got sick. But it can never be the same, not with the passing of Kate in June, and the day after her funeral, the passing of Grandpa from stomach cancer. Those two losses hit me like a ton of bricks, and I was overcome with sadness, guilt, anger, depression (not the clinical kind) --- all of the emotions usually associated with grief.

Yet through it all, there was one aspect of my life that was going well --- running. Every day, I was running faster and stronger. It’s like my body awakened from a four year sleep. Runs of every distance became easier, be it a 4 mile jog or 13 mile long run. And the training runs and track workouts with Anne went better than at any time since we started working together.

In a certain respect, Sunday marked the fact that I have come full circle from that horrible Saturday in January 2007 when I injured my ankle. Like the fading scar from my surgery, the events of the past four years are becoming less and less vivid in my mind, and for the first time in years, I’m eagerly looking forward to what the future holds in running and with life.

Now that I have closed this chapter in my life, I have decided to make this my last and final entry on this blog. A new blog that will solely focus on running is in the works, Matt’s Running Blog, and should be up and running (no pun intended) shortly. I will continue to maintain my efforts to raise awareness about pancreatic cancer by getting more involved with the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network. I would encourage everyone to consider making a donation to support this wonderful organization and worthy cause.

Last but not least, I would like to thank all my friends and family for your incredible support over the past few years; I really could not have gotten through these challenges without you guys.

Finally ---

Rest in peace, Kate. Rest in peace, Grandpa. And may G-d bless both of you.

Matt

Kate and Me, June 2008

Grandpa and me in NYC, May 4, 2003

KATE

It is with great sadness to report that Kate passed away Saturday morning after a 3 ½ year battle with pancreatic cancer.

When I got home a little while ago, I decided to go out on the balcony. I just sat there for a while enjoying the peace and tranquility of the sun set. What stood out was the beauty of the few remaining rays of sun reflecting off of the clouds. And then I started to think about Kate, and I couldn’t help but think that if there really is a heaven, Kate is up there right now enjoying the view. And for a brief moment today I felt like smiling rather than crying, and with that, the realization that Kate had suffered for way too long, and that she deserves the peace of this beautiful evening. I am confident she is at peace, and no one deserves it more than her.

In less than one week, I am running in the Lawyers Have a Heart 10K. It was 10 years ago that Kate and I first ran this race together. Ten years ago that she was encouraging and cajoling me, and yes even telling me to stare at a pretty girl’s butt (see last blog entry), to get me to finish the race. That was Kate in a nutshell --- determined, competitive, caring, funny, kind, and just an all-around great friend. I’m not sure what sort of emotions I’ll experience on Saturday. But I do know this, that although Kate has left us here on Earth, her spirit will be with me from the starting gun to the finish line.

Kate spent the last month of her life at a hospice facility in Rockville, and I knew this day was coming. Still, I am in disbelief and shock about her passing. I wish I could write more eloquently about what a wonderful and terrific person she was, but I don’t think I could do her justice. Instead, I commend to everyone a wonderful entry on her blog reporting the sad news: http://www.katethaxton.com/survivingpc/

Rest in peace, Kate.

10 Year Anniversary

9 years and 11 months ago, almost to the day, Kate and I ran the Lawyers Have a Heart 10K together. As those of you who read my blog two years ago remember, Kate not only is the person primarily responsible for getting me into the sport of running, but also the one who provided me a great motivational technique during the struggles of a big race --- stare straight ahead at a cute girl’s butt and run fast. I have heeded her advice many times and with much success!!!!

This year’s Lawyers Have a Heart is about one month away, and as race day approaches, I can’t help but think of Kate and that day almost 10 years ago: June 17, 2000. Her finishing time was 58 minutes, 45 seconds, good for a 9:33 per mile pace. Of course, her motivational technique worked all too well, and as she always reminds me, I ditched her, sprinted ahead, and finished in 58:35, a mere 9 seconds faster (yes, that blonde’s butt in front of me was quite something!)

Unfortunately, Kate has taken a turn for the worse over the past month, and about two weeks ago she moved to a hospice facility in Rockville, MD. I have visited several times, and although she is not doing well, pancreatic cancer cannot take away what’s really important --- her heart, her soul, and the inner being that makes her such a great wife, daughter, colleague, and most importantly for me, a great friend. If you happen to read this post, please say a prayer for Kate and her family.

Two Weeks Until Chicago

Exactly two weeks from today, I'll be running in the Soldier Field 10 in Chicago. Bum ankle or not, limping or in full stride, I plan on crossing the goal line and finishing on the 50. This is why I run and why I need to get over this left ankle injury pronto! There are more races to run and cool venues to see and I'm not going to let some crummy little ankle issue get in the way!

Injured Ankle - This Time It's My Left

I am back on the blog to report some disturbing news, my left ankle is aching and I’ve taken a break from running. About two weeks after the marathon, I was on a nice Saturday afternoon recovery run when all of a sudden I felt that familiar pain, only this time it wasn’t my right ankle, but my left. Mind starting racing. Panicked thoughts about surgery started to flood my every thought. And the fear that perhaps my time as a runner had come to an end became overwhelming.

At first I denied that there was even a problem. Must be the shoes! Must be my gait! Or lack of stretching. Over the next two weeks I desperately tried everything from having my ankle taped by Anne to wearing different kinds of shoes to work, all with the hope that the soreness would somehow magically disappear. Yet it persisted. It continued. It worsened. I knew what I had to do --- go see the doctor.

Last Tuesday I saw the awesome Dr. Marc Danziger, who thoroughly examined my ankle and determined that the tendon sheath was irritated. Could I run? Yes, as long as it doesn’t hurt, but keep it short. What about the Soldier Field 10 in Chicago which I’m supposed to run Memorial Day weekend? Yes, even if I have to limp to the finish line, it would be okay. How do we lick this? Rest and 750 mg of Relafen twice a day for two weeks. Do I need surgery? Not recommended. If rest and Relafen don’t work, then we’ll supplement with physical therapy.

I’m going to recover, I know that. Hopefully by June I’ll look back at this left ankle issue as nothing but a bump in the road. I’m anxious to start running again. I’m anxious to build off the progress I’ve made over the past two years and to maximize my ability as a runner. Yet, I also realize that rushing back will set me back. Doing too much too soon will only increase the chances that I will develop a more serious injury. Patience is the order of the day, and I’m trying my best to exercise some.

Race Pics

Approaching the finish line on my bum left knee


Anne the amazing pt stretching my knee

Kate and I in sporting"F" cancer t-shirts; she and her husband are big fans of Detroit sports teams - notice my Red Wings hat

National Marathon Race Report

After 8 months of blogging and trying to come up with interesting little bits, I’m struggling with how to summarize yesterday’s race. So let me start with a straight forward play by play, and then some thoughts.

I arrived at RFK about 30 minutes before race time and stayed in my car to keep warm --- it was freezing outside, about 30, and I was wearing only shorts with a long sleeved t-shirt and running jacket. Thankfully I had in the mess that is the trunk of my car, running gloves and an old Syracuse hat. After briefly meeting Anne and her boyfriend Bert, I lined up and boom, the race was on. The first 6-7 miles went by so quickly --- at mile 5, I picked up some Gatorade from Anne and felt really strong. A few hundred yards later, at the corner of 18^th and M, my parents were cheering me on. I felt great --- my pace was consistent (about 8:50 per mile as planned), ankle felt solid (no pain at all), and my left knee which had been acting up the past few weeks, was not giving me any trouble. At that point I’m thinking perhaps I could make a run at a pr. After seeing my parent’s, it was on to Connecticut Avenue, where my friend Emily was stationed around DuPont Circle. Still felt great, no problems at all

But then the hills started. We had quite a big one going up Columbia Road into Adams Morgan. Though the map indicated there were some hills along the course, I had not anticipated them being quite so steep and long. Ok, no big deal. I had done hill training, and knew to take them slow and steady. But the hills didn’t let up. We faced at least 3 or 4 more big ones as we made our way through Northeast during the first half of the race. Still, I felt great, was perhaps a little dehydrated, but nothing a little Gatorade wouldn’t fix. I reached the halfway point in 1 hour, 55 minutes, just as planned.

The beginning of the second half of the race retraced part of the first half, going down East Capital and then heading down Constitution. I took some more Gatorade from Anne at about mile 16, and at this point I was feeling a bit fatigued, but overall still felt pretty good. As I neared the corner of 9^th and Constitution, a big cheering section of my parents and friends Janet and Helen awaited me; it was so great to see them and I felt a surge of energy. That was about mile 17. About a half mile later, my left knee started aching, and aching, and I started to slow down. By mile 20 I was moving at barely a shuffle. Thank goodness for Anne, who was waiting for me right before I crossed the bridge into Anacostia. I stopped running for a good 5 minutes while Anne worked my knee, stretched and contorted it, and made me feel a whole lot better. At that point I thought I had dodged a bullet. But by mile 21, the pain was back, and to make a very long story short, I struggled over the remaining 5.2 miles. I alternated between walking and running, and the further I went, the more I walked. At mile 26, with only 385 yards to go, I was determined to run to the finish, and did --- final time of 4 hours, 19 minutes 46 seconds.

If this had happened to me before I injured my ankle, I would have been pissed off. After all, my slowest time prior to yesterday was 3 hours 56 minutes. I had never ever finished a marathon in over 4 hours. Yet, even though yesterday’s race was my slowest, it was also my most satisfying. Two years ago I never imagined I would be able to run at all, let alone finish a marathon. In the past year, I’ve gone from barely being able to run for more than 5 minutes at a time, to finishing a 26.2 mile race. That’s called progress. More importantly though, was the fact that we raised over $4,000 to support pancreatic cancer research and to raise awareness about the need to generate more support and funding for this awful disease. As I struggled to climb the final hill around mile 24, I had not a frown, but a big smile knowing how much I accomplished personally with my comeback from ankle surgery, and how much WE accomplished with the fundraising for cancer research. How could I feel nothing but satisfaction on such a day?

As I approached the finish line I saw Kate and her husband Tim cheering me on, and afterwards I was able to meet-up with them as well as my parents and the rest of my cheering section to share lots of stories and laughs. Even though yesterday’s race was the slowest I’ve ever run, it was by far the best and most memorable.