Jane joined Team in Training--and ran her marathon!
I ran a marathon on June 21.
It seems hard to believe, as I sit here panting and spent from a 4-mile run that not too long ago would have felt like a stroll to the mailbox and back. What’s even more unbelievable is that I haven’t taken a moment before now to relate my experience, and to thank each and every one of you for the support that enabled me to go the distance—both physically and financially—as a member of the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society’s Team in Training.
I still find it difficult to accurately describe marathon day: Nervously eating my peanut butter and jelly breakfast at 5:45am amidst throngs of other TNTers at the hotel; singing military “jodies” aboard a bus named Wild Thing which delivered us to the starting point; attempting to calculate the precise moment I should consume my pre-race vanilla-flavored Gu for optimal effect; wondering what the hell I’d gotten myself into. My trepidation aside, however, the day couldn’t have been better for a 26.2 mile run: Overcast and cool, and infused with the electricity of 1126 other marathoners, many of them newbies, many of them running for Team in Training.
At precisely 8:00, the starter shot his gun—and I ran. I ran the first five miles with painstaking deliberation, not allowing myself to break a 10-minute mile pace, worried I wouldn’t finish if I didn’t conserve my energy. Then I “ate” my second Gu—and the next 13 miles were a blur, fueled with sugar, adrenaline, endorphins and an incredulous realization that I was going to finish. When I reached mile 18 in 2:35, I thought I might cross the line in under four hours, a time above even my loftiest goal—but then I hit the proverbial wall, and had to dig deeply into my mental and physical reserves to complete the final 6.2 miles. When all was said and done, I finished in 4:24:52, 42nd out of 181 in my division (females 30-34) and 172nd out of 1127 total runners. When staff at the Team in Training tent presented me with my 26.2-mile pin, I was overcome with the magnitude of what I’d just done, with the camaraderie of all the purple-shirted runners on the course, with the overwhelming support of the course volunteers and all the spectators who turned out to cheer us on. I never thought I’d cry at the end of a road race, but on June 21, I did.
None of this is really that important, though. What’s important is my memory of the woman standing at mile 24 with a hand-lettered sign reading, simply: “I’m a leukemia survivor. Thank you.”
Each of you shares in that gratitude. Because of you, I raised $4330 for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. Because of people like you, the hundreds of other Team in Training runners that day raised over $6,000,000 for the cause—and gave thousands of children and adults across the country new hope.
What an incredible thing.
Warmest regards,
Jane Dunbar
It seems hard to believe, as I sit here panting and spent from a 4-mile run that not too long ago would have felt like a stroll to the mailbox and back. What’s even more unbelievable is that I haven’t taken a moment before now to relate my experience, and to thank each and every one of you for the support that enabled me to go the distance—both physically and financially—as a member of the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society’s Team in Training.
I still find it difficult to accurately describe marathon day: Nervously eating my peanut butter and jelly breakfast at 5:45am amidst throngs of other TNTers at the hotel; singing military “jodies” aboard a bus named Wild Thing which delivered us to the starting point; attempting to calculate the precise moment I should consume my pre-race vanilla-flavored Gu for optimal effect; wondering what the hell I’d gotten myself into. My trepidation aside, however, the day couldn’t have been better for a 26.2 mile run: Overcast and cool, and infused with the electricity of 1126 other marathoners, many of them newbies, many of them running for Team in Training.
At precisely 8:00, the starter shot his gun—and I ran. I ran the first five miles with painstaking deliberation, not allowing myself to break a 10-minute mile pace, worried I wouldn’t finish if I didn’t conserve my energy. Then I “ate” my second Gu—and the next 13 miles were a blur, fueled with sugar, adrenaline, endorphins and an incredulous realization that I was going to finish. When I reached mile 18 in 2:35, I thought I might cross the line in under four hours, a time above even my loftiest goal—but then I hit the proverbial wall, and had to dig deeply into my mental and physical reserves to complete the final 6.2 miles. When all was said and done, I finished in 4:24:52, 42nd out of 181 in my division (females 30-34) and 172nd out of 1127 total runners. When staff at the Team in Training tent presented me with my 26.2-mile pin, I was overcome with the magnitude of what I’d just done, with the camaraderie of all the purple-shirted runners on the course, with the overwhelming support of the course volunteers and all the spectators who turned out to cheer us on. I never thought I’d cry at the end of a road race, but on June 21, I did.
None of this is really that important, though. What’s important is my memory of the woman standing at mile 24 with a hand-lettered sign reading, simply: “I’m a leukemia survivor. Thank you.”
Each of you shares in that gratitude. Because of you, I raised $4330 for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. Because of people like you, the hundreds of other Team in Training runners that day raised over $6,000,000 for the cause—and gave thousands of children and adults across the country new hope.
What an incredible thing.
Warmest regards,
Jane Dunbar