A Year Ago

It feels like it was yesterday and ages ago at the same time. A year ago today marked the beginning of a fun musical journey - the first reunion show of The Afghan Whigs, an amazing night at The Bowery Ballroom in NYC. It's a night I will never forget because it meant so much to me, especially as I worked through the pain of losing my Joe. 

I remember so clearly the excitement I felt as I drove north from Atlantic City where I was for a work conference to meet up with some other fans before the show. We were like kids on Christmas morning and what a Christmas it turned out to be! By the time it was all over and I was driving back down the Parkway, I could hardly believe what had happened. I had really just seen The Afghan Whigs live at The Bowery Ballroom. I had met Greg and John and Rick. I had felt so close to my Joe. And there was more to come.

What an adventure followed that first concert in NYC...

In 2012, I attended a total of 10 Afghan Whigs shows from Toronto to New Orleans, from Cincinnati to NYC.

I brought my little sister, my cousin, and several friends to their first AW shows and went with an old friend to our first one together since we saw them in a now defunct NJ dive bar during college.

I made more new friends than I can count including two amazing women with whom I have already run a half marathon (love you, Malinda & Melissa!).

I met Greg Dulli for the first time. And a second time. And then on one especially meaningful night I finally felt it right to tell him just how important his music has been to me.

I stood in the very front row, in the back, and basically everywhere in between.

I heard them play their cover of Band of Gold live.

I cried more than once when they played Faded and sang as loud as I could along with countless other songs. 

I got my very own playlist to take home on a very special night.

I rang in the New Year in Cincinnati with my sister, my best friends, and my favorite band wondering how in the world we could possibly top such an amazing year. 

Perhaps, just perhaps, sometime soon all of the Facebook and Twitter and Instagram teasing that the band has been up to recently will lead to another "Your Attention, Please..." In the meantime, though, pardon me if I happily bask in some memories from last year. I'm thankful that it led me to Malinda and Melissa, that it brought me some peace in the midst of missing Joe (thanks, Elissa!), and that it gave me my first meeting with GD. It was a fabulous night with wonderful people, making it truly unforgettable.

The Afghan Whigs on May 23, 2012 at The Bowery Ballroom

A not so great photo of GD from the show.
I was too absorbed in the show, didn't take many photos.

On cloud nine, meeting Greg Dulli for the 1st time after the show.

From Brasil While Missing Him and Him

Before I left for Brasil, a friend of mine suggested that I needed to ask about the meaning of the word "saudade" while here. He assured me that whoever I asked would be more than happy to explain its meaning. At first I was suspicious, but he was so genuine in his conviction that it was a beautiful word that I decided I would wait for the appropriate moment and ask away.

I will admit that I did cheat slightly and ask my friend Ana about the word when we met last week over lunch for a tutorial about Brasil. Just as my friend had predicted would happen, her eyes lit up as she described what it meant. I thought I was prepared then, when I asked about the meaning of the word over dinner last night, but there was something about asking it here in Brasil that hit me like a ton of bricks.

As the knowing smile appeared and the answer came back, my mind immediately turned back to Joe. And, in this circumstance, back to Domani who I had at that point not seen for more than 2 days. You see, the simple response is that SAUDADE means missing someone deeply. I certainly know what that's like. As we talked about it more - about how this means both the pain of the separation and the joy of the happy memories - I felt the tears starting to come. Then there was a sweet and gentle embrace from my travel companion and a merciful change of the subject to how to say "love" and "lust" in Portuguese - connected to the topic certainly, but not likely to inspire the waterworks to spring a leak.

We took time over drinks later to re-visit SAUDADE in the context of losing a loved one and it was a truly meaningful conversation. I'm so thankful for those moments of spiritual exploration and the ability to share our humanity with each other. I also continue to marvel at the power of language to capture emotion and found this explanation of SAUDADE to be particularly intense:

"Saudade was once described as "the love that remains" after someone is gone. Saudade is the recollection of feelings, experiences, places or events that once brought excitement, pleasure, well-being, which now triggers the senses and makes one live again. It can be described as an emptiness, like someone (e.g., one's children, parents, sibling, grandparents, friends, pets) or something (e.g., places, things one used to do in childhood, or other activities performed in the past) that should be there in a particular moment is missing, and the individual feels this absence. It brings sad and happy feelings all together, sadness for missing and happiness for having experienced the feeling." (from Wikipedia - for the rest of the definition, click here.)

Thankfully, I'll get to give my little guy a big hug tomorrow. Somehow, once again I feel like the discovery of this word was yet another way for Joe to give me one too. There's always something special about being able to put a word to an emotion that's been sitting with you for so long - but it's even more special when it's a beautiful word from another language and even more special still when you are visiting in the country where that language is spoken.

When It Doesn't Feel Like Mother's Day

When I woke up this morning it was Mother's Day, but aside from the endless stream of posts when I logged onto Facebook you wouldn't have known it in my house. My little guy is still too little to make breakfast in bed or have a gift ready for his Mommy or even to know that he should run in and say "Happy Mother's Day". He would have been coached by his Dad on all those things and undoubtedly Joe would have been very good at it. Today is one of those days when his presence is really missed.

At my parents' house after my run.

Domani and I shared a tender moment this morning when he sensed my sadness and in an exchange we have had many times over the last year he asked if I was missing Daddy and I told him yes. He said that Daddy wasn't here, but was in heaven and that he missed him too. Then, he gave me a hug and kiss and used his fingers to "make me smile" by turning up the corners of my mouth. Really, who needs a present with a kid who takes care of his mom like that. 

There were two other thoughtful gestures which made my morning. Right in the midst of my tough time, I received a personalized Happy Mother's Day text message from two good friends. They were perfectly timed and while I'm sure these two amazing guys have no idea how important their texts were in inspiring me through my day, I'm thankful they came when they did because I was feeling alone and needed the boost.

Church was uneventful and afterwards, I decided to act on my overwhelming desire to go visit Joe's mom. I was missing him and just really wanted to see her and make sure that Domani got to see her too. So, we started the 1 hour and 20 minute drive which was only interrupted by a quick stop to pick up something for lunch and a bouquet of flowers. I knew she would be surprised by our visit, but I didn't realize until I read her most recent blog post before leaving the Stop & Shop parking lot just how poignant the scene of Domani bringing her the Mother's Day flowers would be for her. We both had some tears in our eyes. It was so good to see her on this day which is difficult for a million reasons.

On the way to Joe's mom's I was still feeling down. It seemed like everyone around me whether it was in real life or on Facebook was just having a grand old Mother's Day time. What I really wanted to do was post how sad it felt to be a single mom to a toddler who couldn't really interact with you on Mother's Day. Then, it was my iPhone shuffle to the rescue. Seasons of Love came on and I sang along as loud as I could, tears streaming. I let it repeat a few times. Later on, I used the lyrics as my status on Facebook. I thought it was a way to be honest about my feelings on this day without raining on everyone else's happiness.

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights, in sunsets

In midnights, in cups of coffee

In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strike

In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure, a year in the life?

How about love?

How about love?

How about love?

Measure in love.

(From Seasons of Love, RENT Soundtrack)

During our visit, Domani was his usual charming self. After their dog wagged his tail in Domani's face and I explained that means he is happy, Domani proceeded to stand up, shake his butt and tell us "I wagging my tail!" We all got a good laugh out of that one. He also rode the goose statue that is next to the fireplace and tried to sneak as many pretzels as he could out of Grandma's bag of pretzels. We had a lovely afternoon and as always happens it was time to go way before either of us were really ready to leave.

Riding the goose (or is that a swan?)

From Ocean County we traveled back up Route 539 to South Brunswick for some time with my parents, my grandparents, and my sister and her family. After a delicious dinner made by my Dad, I went for a 5 1/2 mile tempo run. It was refreshing and included a beautiful moment right around mile 4 when the song Seasons of Love came on my shuffle just as I was turning a corner to head downhill. The sky was open, blue, and gorgeous above me and I felt so connected to Joe that the tears just flowed as I was running down the hill. It was a wonderful release after what had been a very emotional day.

Measure in love indeed. Thankfully, I have a lot of it - both given and received.

Nike Women's Half Marathon - Washington, DC

Today I went for my first run since I completed the Nike Women's Half Marathon a week and a half ago in Washington, DC. It's been a frustrating 9 days as I waited and waited and waited until my poor feet were back in a shape that would allow me to run again without pain. The main culprit was an infected toe, although  I also had a fair share of blisters and even my first lost toenail.Yes, I certainly earned my 7 minute PR on that race. My finish did not come without some physical sacrifice.

I may have only covered just over two miles in the early evening humidity today, but it felt like an awfully big deal. I was getting my groove back and jumping back into a training mode and it felt good. I used my playlist from the NWM half and each song I ran with brought me back to a wonderful weekend shared with family and friends.

Outside the Expotique with Malinda and Melissa

I was blessed to make the trip to DC with my son and my aunt and to meet up with my two Best Running Friends (BRFs) Malinda and Melissa. Malinda had convinced Melissa and I to sign up with her for the race back in December when it was announced. At that time I had just started training for my first half marathon. I'm so glad we registered for the lottery and gained entry because we had such a special weekend together. 

Malinda, Melissa and I kicked off our racing fever together at the Nike Georgetown store bright and early Saturday morning for a Q&A with Shalane Flanagan and Joan Benoit Samuelson. The Q&A was followed by a short shakeout run with these two running greats. Since Malinda, Melissa and I don't live nearby each other, the three of us don't get to run together often so being able to run side by side with Shalane and Joan leading the pack was pretty much as cool as it gets. Afterwards, we were lucky enough to get photos with the ladies and I'll never forget that Joan told me she loved my "I Run Things" shirt.

With Shalane Flanagan and Joan Benoit Samuelson at Nike Georgetown

Our names were along the wall at the Nike store - Found MINE!

Sipping on our post-run Jamba Juice smoothies (a very nice touch) Melissa and I made our way towards packet pick up. Within minutes I had my race packet and Melissa had an easy time replacing hers which was accidentally left in a cab the night before. More kudos for the Nike race operation.

When I got back to the hotel my son was still in his PJs munching on his breakfast, meaning we had plenty of time to get to the zoo and enjoy a beautiful day in DC. The National Zoo brought back lots of memories for me and more than once the tears pooled up in my eyes. Joe and I had brought Domani there just before he turned 1 on a trip we made to DC for a Mets v. Nats game. We went to many of the same places and even took photos in some of the same spots. The little guy had a blast and especially enjoyed telling the lions to wake up, trying to eat the dirt like the orangutan, and naming all the parts of the elephant. I'm so glad we had time to do some sightseeing while we were in town for the race.

National Zoo - September 2011

National Zoo - April 2013

Saturday night found us out to a delicious Italian dinner with a good friend and her family. It was just the right amount of carb loading, great conversation, and crazy toddler antics to make for a wonderful evening. When it was all over, we even had our own little brush with unidentified fame as my friend's little charmer caught the attention of a couple leaving the White House Correspondents Dinner. It was the perfect lead in to my race, if only I had been able to fall asleep. I always have a problem sleeping the night before a race. Mostly, it's because I'm worried I will oversleep and miss the start.

This time I was awake and ready to go with no problem. There is always something special about pulling on my Team Sparkle skirt for a race and for this 13.1 I was decked out in my Another Mother Runner BAMR tank which adds a whole new layer of kick ass to my running gear. I gathered up my things, kissed my sleeping little guy goodbye and headed to the Metro. Call it fate, but as soon as I stepped out at the Federal Triangle stop, there was Malinda! I gave her a big hug and we spent some time exploring the starting area together - dropping off her bag, making a visit to the porta potties, taking some photos, and eventually making our way to the corrals. My favorite moment was when we were walking back to the corrals from the porta potties and I panicked thinking I had lost my Gu Chomps. My tweet recounting the moment: @MamaDeak: OH NO! Where are my Gu Chomps? Oh, they are in my boob." That just happened. @GUEnergyLabs #WeRunDC

Just before moving to my corral.

Malinda, Melissa, and I were each in different start corrals (in that order) but Melissa and I were planning on pacing together for at least the beginning of the race so she came back and joined me in the 10 minute corral. It was crowded but somehow we managed to find each other and even more amazing we managed to stay together for the first few miles of the race. It was crowded and didn't really start to space out until about mile 4. In fact, I missed the mat marking the first 5k because I was running up on the curb to pass around a crowd of runners. Rookie mistake, right?

At the 10k mat, I made sure to cross over it with gusto and knew from my Nike+ app that I was putting in a good pace. While my app was a little off on the miles, I knew that I was at least on pace to go sub 2 as I had dreamed, but I had no real idea how close I was to the goal. As it turns out I crossed the 10k mat at 56:56.

I felt really great running this race - that is until I hit miles 7-9. They were by far the hardest part of the course for me. The views were beautiful, but the heat was starting to set in and there was much less crowd support on that part of the course than there was anywhere else. My strongest shot of adrenaline came from the awesome sign "If Sarah Palin can run, so can you."  I literally said out loud "Touche!" and then picked up my pace. It's amazing what a little sign can do for you, but it was still a tough slog through those miles. I made quick work of my Gu Chomps and hydrated religiously - all of which I think helped push me through to the end. 

Once I came up on that 15k mark and could visualize running what was basically a 5k I felt another jolt of adrenaline. The crowd support was back - complete with a line of young people waiting to give high fives and all I wanted to do was cross that finish line and hug my little guy. There was one tunnel where the noise of the drums really made things uncomfortable for me, but otherwise the last 3 miles were just willing my body to not lose pace. I knew that if I just kept moving I would at least beat my time from Miami and given how much my feet were hurting and how hot my body was getting I would count that as a victory. Once the finish line was in sight it felt like it kept getting further and further away, but eventually there I was face to face with that blue Tiffany box trying to keep myself standing upright. It was wonderful. I knew I had beaten my time by a significant amount.

In the end, my official finish was 2:04:49, almost 7 minutes better than my 2:11:39 finish in Miami Beach less than 2 months earlier. I was tired and sweaty and I knew that I would have to nurse my feet back to health, but it was so worth it. After I got back to my hotel room, I tweeted: @MamaDeak: I've got blisters, bloody toes, a new PR, and a little blue box. I say I came out on top. #WeRunDC @runnikewomen

This was a truly special weekend. Family. Good friends. Running. A personal record. All in a very special city. It doesn't get much better than that. Except that somehow it did...because the postscript to my weekend is that my favorite running website www.anothermotherrunner.com asked me some questions and did a really lovely feature this past Thursday mentioning the NWM and my plans to run the NYC Marathon in November in an effort to raise money for The American Cancer Society. Through the feature, I connected with so many amazing Mother Runners and more than ever I feel blessed to be a member of this tribe of kick ass women.

With Malinda and Melissa at the We Run sign

Post-race with Melissa

One Mile at a Time - Running NYC with Team DetermiNation

Two weeks ago today, I had a text conversation with one of my BRFs (Best Running Friends) which went like this:

BRF: When your head feels better I'm going to try talking you into running the NYC full with us. So that's a thing that will happen.

Me: This fall?!?!

BRF: Shhhh. Your head hurts. this isn't really happening. It's a dream. Zzzzzzz. (Yes this fall.)

This past Saturday night, just before my body melted into my Washington, DC hotel bed with visions of the Nike Women's Half Marathon dancing around in my head, I signed up with Team DetermiNation to fundraise thousands of dollars for guaranteed entry into the NYC marathon. It still feels a little surreal, but I am confident the time is right. Running has brought me to an amazing point in my life and there is no more special place for me to run my first 26.2 than in NYC and no more special organization to benefit than ACS.

A favorite family photo - LBI vacation, July 2011
I plan to run the NYC Marathon in memory of Joe.

In November 2011, just before Joe passed away, my friend Christon ran the NYC Marathon in his honor as a part of the American Cancer Society DetermiNation team. At the time Joe was in and out of the hospital with care and treatments so having someone who was willing to put the time and effort into fundraising thousands of dollars and then running 26.2 miles with us on her mind was a huge emotional and spiritual boost. It really meant the world to us then and I will never forget it. So, when my friend Melissa asked me to join her and her husband Paul this year as they run NYC with Team DetermiNation, even in my migraine-induced state I knew it was an offer I couldn't refuse (yes, that was a shameless nod to The Godfather which Joe and I both loved).

Although Joe will never get to greet me at the finish line of a race, he is there with me every time I run. When I feel like giving up, I remember his determination in the fight and I think to myself - if Joe could get through that, then I can run one more mile. So, on November 3rd, that's what I'll do. I will run one more mile and one more mile and one more mile until I have run 26.2 of them. Won't you visit my page today and make a donation or pass along the link to someone else who can?

I couldn't be more thankful for the love and support I've received from family, friends, fellow runners, and even total strangers through Joe's illness and since his passing. Over the next six months, I know that I will see even more of that love and support poured out as I train and raise funds. Together we can make a difference in the fight against cancer, a fight for more birthdays and less cancer...one mile at a time!

Tears, Democracy, & Progress

This time last week I was anxiously awaiting the official start of my Union's Convention in Pittsburgh. I had already spent two days with many of my Union sisters in brothers in pre-meetings and in social settings - we had packed a lot into the 48 hours of Saturday and Sunday, but I really had no idea of all that still was to come or how moving this year's Convention would be for me.

We were only minutes into CWA's 74th Convention before I was overcome with emotion. It was only the invocation but there was no holding back the tears as I heard THOSE words. I had seen that photo of Martin Richard, the Boston Marathon victim who had made the "No more hurting people. Peace." sign, so many times over the past week that it was etched in my brain. With images from the Boston Marathon playing in my mind, I once again thought of my friends who were there and then of the half marathon finish line I would be crossing in DC in less than a week (the line in fact that I crossed this morning, to the tune of a 7 minute personal record and with a large crowd which included my own 2 year old son cheering us on). No More Hurting People. Peace. It was a plea for the next 48 hours, for the next week and for all the work that we do. It was a truly poetic way to begin what was the most meaningful CWA Convention I have yet to take part in.

CWA Convention 2013

I have been an organizer with CWA for 13 years. In that time I have written papers with other organizers and engaged in countless roundtable discussions about the need to increase resources for organizing. While the years have brought some changes, up until now all of those discussions and papers had led to very little fundamental change and had continued to leave us with an inadequate bench of resources to deal with the organizing challenges ahead of us. Thanks to several Local leaders from District 1 and the bold vision of our Union's Defense Fund Oversight Committee, this year brought change that will truly revolutionize the way we are able to organize and build movements in our communities. I can't describe the emotions that welled up inside me as I listened to Kevin Sheil, President of Local 1103 deliver the following words on our Convention floor with a long line of supportive delegates behind him at the mic:

"If we acknowledge that the Union—and the entire labor movement—are facing the greatest challenges in our history, then it's clear that for CWA’s future and our future, foresight, new thinking, and a bold approach are required.  This is not the time for superficial or incremental change.  If we are to leave this union in a better place for the next generation, then we must go big and bold while we can.  We can only do that by growing our union through organizing and movement building.  We must focus like a laser on growing our union.   We need to give ourselves the tools to take us into the future.   We have no choice but to evolve into a more flexible union for the greater good.  In order for us to shape our future, we must give our union the space to become more effective, efficient and responsive.  At the end of the day it will take sacrifice and a willingness to endure some hardship, but it must be done.  If we have the courage, we have an opportunity to alter the trajectory of our union.  Today is a great day to start…"

Approval of this proposal was not automatic. There was an attempt from the floor to water it down and to delay action for two more years until the next Convention. Instead, delegates boldly rallied behind fighting back against corporate interests by making a commitment to unorganized workers and I couldn't be more proud. (For details on this proposal check out CWA's link here.) Once again, I cried - this time happy tears as my sisters and brothers voted to move our Union forward by leaps and bounds.

Later that afternoon delegates considered a controversial proposal regarding the creation of a telecom VP to oversee bargaining. There was spirited debate and, in the end, a roll call vote of all delegates to determine the final outcome. The whole process was a reminder to me of one of the greatest strengths of our Union - a unifying spirit of union democracy. Even when members disagree on particular issues, on the appropriate path for fighting back against the boss or the best way to structure our movement for the future, there is a commitment to the process of internal union democracy and that is a powerful thing. Seeing delegates line up to speak, engage in a lively debate on the floor, and in the end swipe their badges representing their delegate voting strength to determine a final tally on an issue - all makes me proud to be CWA.

I have to admit that by the time Tuesday morning rolled around, it was still hard for me to believe that delegates had already committed what would amount to millions of dollars to organizing and movement building. That morning I tweeted: Still pinching myself over millions of dollars dedicated to organizing by delegates to the #cwaunion2013 convention yesterday. Long overdue.

But there was so much more to come.

From our Flight Attendants we heard the welcome news that TSA had just delayed implementation on its knives on planes policy. I'm sure I don't have to explain to the readers of my blog the stupidity of this policy nor the obvious emotion attached to asking Flight Attendants to tolerate the re-introduction of knives back into the cabins of airplanes - especially when it has become known that the impetus behind the policy change is none other than knife companies and lobbyists. The announcement of the delayed implementation was met with much excitement by the delegates and guests at our Convention, and I once again found my eyes welling up as I thought of the many FAs who I now call friends for whom this fight is very personal. We were reminded, of course, that this was nothing more than a temporary reprieve, certainly a result of our pressure campaign, but by no means the end of the No Knives on Planes campaign. There is no set timetable on the delay (meaning the TSA could move forward with implementation at any time) so it was inspiring to see so many delegates take action with postcards and luggage stickers in support (www.noknivesonplanes.com for more info). I even brought home some stickers for us to use on our own trip to DC this past weekend - my little guy LOVED them!

My little guy with his No Knives on Planes sticker
while we were in DC this past weekend.

The Civil Rights and Equity Committee had presented their report on Monday afternoon. It included a discussion of our nation's gun laws, a call for comprehensive immigration reform, and a moving story that gave us a glimpse into the heartbreaking realities of LGBT inequality even within our own unionized workplaces. Delegates not only adopted the report of the Civil Rights and Equity Committee, but on Tuesday passed resolutions in support of comprehensive immigration reform and in support of efforts to remove health insurance exclusions that prevent transgender individuals from accessing care. The resolution on transgender healthcare passed unanimously and once again I couldn't hold back the tears of joy that this was my Union. 

The original resolution on immigration reform contained a reference to securing all of our nation's borders and a passionate motion was made from the floor to amend the resolution to eliminate this bullet point.  It was agreed by delegates that this was not our issue for reform and the final resolution was passed without it. Amen.

(For a summary of these and other resolutions acted on at this CWA Convention click here.)

I was moved by the thoughtful and activist nature of the many delegates I encountered at this Convention. CWA is full of inspired and inspiring people who want to make a difference in their workplaces and their communities. That alone was a huge encouragement.

There was someone very obviously missing from this Convention though and when his smiling face came up on the Memorials screen I made no effort to hold back my tears. I was surrounded by Local officers about to receive awards for organizing and other organizers in the Union who had worked with them. This was where Seth would have been - with this community of organizers and organizing Locals. I thought back to the countless organizing strategy conversations we had over the years, the many laughs we had shared, and the way he inspired so many of CWA's organizers and activists. And then, something amazing happened. An overwhelming sense of peace came over me - he would have been so proud of us this year. The delegates to this Convention did some pretty progressive things, not the least of which was committing more resources towards organizing than ever before.  I think this smiling photo of Seth looking out over this Convention was fitting. We honored him not only during our Memorials, but by moving our Union forward in the struggle to organize and to support working people everywhere who are fighting for improvements.

Photo by @KenCWA

I think it's fitting to close this post by looking back to something I wrote on my blog right after Seth passed in July. I re-read that post as I was writing this one and was struck by this part especially:

"As I think back over this weekend, I am still sad, but I am also thankful to Seth for the moving example of what it means to live and love and... plant trees. It's a reminder to me that everything we do is building a certain type of life in a certain world. It's up to us to choose each day to make each of those the best they can be." 

We Are Runners

This morning I completed my last long run before my next race. This wasn't just any long run though and my next race will definitely not be just any race. 

Yesterday - Monday, April 15 - I followed along on Twitter and the web with much of the rest of the running community as friends and fellow runners participated in the Boston Marathon and then watched in horror as the news came in of the explosions at the finish line. From the time I first learned of the tragedy until the time that I was able to confirm my friends were ok via Twitter only a minute or two had passed, but it certainly felt like time stood still. The rest of the day was like a fog. 

I can't explain to non-runners what running has come to mean to me over the last year since I took it up again. In fact the tears are welling up in my eyes right now as I type this. It's about more than just the act of running - it's about the RUNNERS. It's about Malinda and Melissa, two mother runner Afghan Whigs fans who also happen to be fundraising machines in the fight against cancer. We've become the best of friends after meeting last year. It's about Sarah & Dimity who I was lucky enough to meet in Montclair last week, authors of the book Train Like a Mother and all around awesome people, to whom I give at least half the credit for getting me across my first 13.1 finish line. It's about the DOZENS of RUNNERS on Twitter who have inspired me to keep pushing on both in running and in life.

When I think of yesterday's attack, I think of each of them and each of their families. I think of my own son, friend, and cousin who waited for me at the finish line of my first half marathon in Miami Beach. I think of who will be waiting there for me at future races. 

As I set out for my run early this morning, these are the things that were on my mind. I've never gone for a run before the sunrise, but there was something calming about my parents' neighborhood at that time. Then, as Teenage Wristband by the Twilight Singers came on my iPod and I thought back to the roadtrip I took with Malinda and Melissa for New Years, I gained some strength. We are runners. We are strong. That doesn't mean we won't mourn. That doesn't mean we won't be angry. It doesn't even mean that we won't from time to time come completely undone.

But we will push on. 

As best we can, we will push on.

In 10 days, I will run my second half marathon in Washington, DC - the Nike Women's Half Marathon. I will run it with Malinda & Melissa, two of the most amazing women I know. We may for our own sanity have our families cheer us on from some spot other than the finish. We may look over our shoulders a few more times than normal. We will certainly do whatever we need to do to support Malinda, who was a spectator in Boston, cheering on her twin sister Leah (who finished shortly before the blasts). But in the end, we will run. Why? Because we are runners and it is what we do. We will be there for each other and we will push on to the finish.