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Posts Tagged ‘Boston’

My heart is broken for so many people. Those who were killed, those who were injured, and all who know and love them. And – albeit on a different level – for those who, like my cousin Tara, and several of my friends on our Marathon Team, were about to complete their first marathon when all hell broke loose.

Many people will have their stories of where they were when it happened, and this is mine. It was one of the scariest times of my life, and I know I’m still in shock because I haven’t really broken down yet…

I was there, in the heart of it. In fact, had Gail, the friend I was with, not had to go to the bathroom, we may not be here right now. You see, we were rushing from Mile 14 to the finish line, where we had VIP passes, including to the grandstand. I drove, with Gail, Derek from NORD, and David and Doug, our photographers, and the closest parking I could think of was at the Prudential Center.  There was a bit of a back-up getting in, and we wanted to capture as many images as possible of our Marathon Team runners crossing the finish line, so I let David, Doug and Derek out of the car just before entering the garage; Gail said she’d stay and keep me company – thank goodness she did.

We found a parking spot pretty quick and were hurrying to get out onto Boylston St. so we could get over to the VIP area and see the rest of our runners finish – a few were getting close according to the text messages. But as we headed out of the Pru, Gail asked if we could take a detour and go to the ladies room first. So back we went and stood in line, waiting, got through it, and then were back on our way out to the street.

All of the sudden, we heard the boom, and knew instantly something bad happened. And then, as people all looked at each other and then started toward the windows to see what it could be, smoke appeared out the window. And then, everyone in front of us – seemingly hundreds of people – all turned toward us and started running and screaming “Run, run, run” – so we turned and ran for our lives. We locked arms to try to run together, scared that we’d be separated. All I could think of while I ran was that it must be gunmen; that someone first set a bomb, were armed, too, and they were coming into the Pru. So we ran as fast as we could, along with everyone else, cutting through the food court, pushing chairs and tables out of the way,  anything to get out the side doors and away from danger.

Only outside we went, and saw the smoke. And the screaming. And the police were not far behind, pushing us away from the finish line, and the stands, and then ambulances were in front of us, and runners were next to us. They were as confused as us and we were all trying to piece it all together… then we were being told we needed to completely evacuate the area, and we had to go toward Mass Ave. One cop looked at us and said, “I’m sorry, but we don’t know how many more are in this area, so we have to get you all out so you can be safe.” So we went.

And along the way we tried both to update our loved ones, as well as to check on our runners and friends in the stands. From where the ambulances were, and the smoke, it appeared that it was all on the actual course, so we were most concerned about the runners. I tried a few times to call my son, my parents, and our photographers, but couldn’t get a line out. Texts weren’t being reliable either – kept getting held up. Luckily, my blackberry e-mail was working. I immediately went into crisis mode, updating our senior leadership team, partnering with Lisa in Corp Comm to make sure all of our runners and onlookers at the finish line were safe. It took many emails, texts and phone calls from various people over a couple of hours – all the while being constantly pushed further away from the scene, and praying my iphone, portable charger and blackberry would hold their charges – but we were able to confirm all were ok. I was even able to stand on top of one of the cement pillars at the Mass Ave. underpass and actually see Phil, Andrew and Shane, which filled me with a bit of relief.

Once we knew all were safe, and learned our photographers were just about back to Allston, we decided to head to my apartment where my cousin and her family and friends were, and Gail could be picked up from there. Nearly the entire way, past Kenmore Square, by BU, there were police swarming the streets, and sirens constantly going. We stopped quickly at Sunset to hug Nick (he was working), and then walked the rest of the way home and collapsed.

It’s all just surreal. It was like a movie, not like it really happened. The evening has gone by in a blur. Once things started going through there were so many texts and voicemails – and I haven’t even seen facebook yet. In the middle of it all, when I knew the texting and calls weren’t working I did a mass post to my facebook, twitter and linked in accounts so all would know we were ok. I can’t even express how much I appreciated so many people checking on us…

Gail and I hugged many times as she left, both so thankful we had each other through it all. I can’t imagine going through all that alone.

After a quick bite to eat, I was told the Pru garage was open. So Tara and I took a drive down there and found out that is most certainly not true. The National Guard (Army guys) or police are blocking off all the surrounding streets. When we got to the corner by the Pru, we asked, and explained the garage people told us we could get it, they said absolutely not – they’re not even letting anyone walk on those streets, let alone drive on them. Maybe tomorrow.

Or, I guess, now looking at the clock, later today. So that is my story. I know there are things I left out, my mind is a jumble, and my heart is so very heavy… but I am above all else thankful to still be here, for diverting our path at just the right time, and that all we know are safe. And so devastated for those who are not as lucky…

 

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This morning I ran the BAA 5K. For those not familiar with it, it is 3.1 miles along Newbury St., Commonwealth Ave., and starts and finishes on Boylston St., by the Boston Public Library. In fact, it ends at the finish line for the Boston Marathon, which happens to be tomorrow. While the Marathon has been consuming much of my time – helping our Genzyme Boston Marathon Team with events and fundraising for NORD – the 5K has been looming in my mind.

As many of you know, I only started running in October 2011. I always swore I’d never run. I was the non-athlete who thought she was going to die when they demanded we all run a mile in school. But inspired by both our Genzyme Running Team and my cousin Tara, I ran my first 5K in December 2011 – the very fun but very cold Jingle Bell Run – and participated in Genzyme’s first Rare Disease Day Relay (last three miles) on February 29, 2012. Then, of course, I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer in March 2012 and with the ensuing surgery, treatments and side effects, the running pretty much stopped.

I tried numerous times to get started again – and each time I did, something happened like:

  • I was signed up for the Newport Half Marathon in October, then found out I needed more chemo, so that was out.
  • I signed up for the Jingle Bell Run in December, thinking that was a good way to start over (repeating my first race), then found out I needed radiation.
  • I signed up for the second Rare Disease Day in February, and then got sick just before.

So it was declared that it must be the lingering effects of the 2011/2012 hell year combo and I was cursed. I simply couldn’t sign up for any more races until I successfully ran one again – and luckily I had signed up for the BAA 5K before that third bullet, so we were just holding our breath that nothing would happen before it…

Th BAA 5K is significant to me for multiple reasons:

  • This was the first race I saw Tara run, in April 2011. I took her kids to cheer her on and watch her cross the finish line. I was so proud of her, and it never even occurred to me that I could do the same thing – 3.1 miles seemed like forever! And at that point I hadn’t quite made the connection yet that if I ran, I could eat and still lose weight, so I was still swearing off running.
  • I’ve been supporting our Boston Marathon Team since I joined Genzyme and they are such a fabulous group of compassionate, committed people. While I have no desire to ever run the Marathon (sorry Phil), I love the idea of doing something that ties so closely to the team.
  • It’s one of my favorite courses – it’s basically home. Since it’s right between my last apartment in Beacon Hill and my current apartment in Brookline, it’s one of my main running paths, especially at night. When I first started out, I mainly ran along the Charles River, along the esplanade, but then some runners were attacked there, so I started running up and down Boylston, Newbury and Commonwealth – all busy streets with wide sidewalks – if I was going out after dark. And there’s nothing like window shopping and people watching to make a run fly by!

It’s been harder getting back into running than I thought it would be. I think that’s in part due to the season and the cold – I am always so much more motivated to run when it’s nice out. Lucky for me, spring is now here: the Swan Boats returned to the Public Garden on Saturday, so now it has to be nice!

And the last few weeks I’ve been having shin pain, which I’ve never had before, and have really just been slugging along- much more walking than running… but I was determined, no matter what my pace or if it hurt a bit, to do this race.

And I did (even remembered to wear my compression sleeve), with such an incredible group of supporters: Tara (who in just three years has graduated to running her first Boston Marathon tomorrow!), and some of my Genzyme Marathon Team family: Jessi, Colleen, Kyle, Andrew, Sean and James – and Cian and David from Ireland not only cheered me on, but ran, too! I look forward to cheering you all on at the Marathon tomorrow!  And Nick and Shay even joined us for a celebratory brunch (complete with mimosas for a few of us…) after the race. Thank you all so much for being there for me – it meant more than you know!!!

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So now the curse has been lifted, and I am mulling a new goal: Disney Princess Half Marathon in Walt Disney World in February. (If it wasn’t the end of kid’s February vacation, I would definitely do it – but must weigh pros and cons before committing.) In the meantime, I’m going to sign up for a few more 5Ks…

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It worked. My determination to look forward and focus on the future really did help to pull me out of my funk and get me back on track. But what I also realized was that I couldn’t keep (and I can hear certain people snorting at this even before the words hit the screen) burying myself in work and denying anything is different. So I decided to finally – one year later – face cancer.

Just after my last blog entry called Facing Forward, I was on Dana-Farber’s website and found that a new session was starting called – ironically – Facing Forward After Breast Cancer Treatment. As you’ve probably figured out, while I love talking to people about their problems and helping them figure everything out, I’m not the biggest fan about talking to others about my feelings, especially if it could bring tears. But I realized that if I’m ever really going to move forward, this could really help. So I went.

It was the first time I’ve ever been in a room where the vast majority of women had hair practically the same inch or so length as mine – made me smile! As did hearing why these sessions were created: “Life as you know it is changed. You’re vulnerable. You’ve lost some control. You have a sense of time being limited.” Yup, yup, yup, yup. “During treatment you’re busy, focused on fighting.  Then it all stops. The transition can be very difficult. People assume since you’re done with treatment you should be ready to move on. And you feel guilty for not being there yet.” Exactly. Clearly I was in the right place.

It was explained to us that this is a “psycho education group.” So not a straight support group exactly, but a combo with expert speakers, the first being a medical oncologist. You would think after all the time I’ve spent with doctors during the last year that I would know it all – but I learned several new things – and felt good that I was able to answer some questions for others and help them, too. Some of what surprised me, I think I have heard before but probably just didn’t want to believe – or hoped that I’d be the exception. Not seeming so… As many of you know, I’ve been frustrated because I’m not back to where I was running-wise. Well, one thing I learned was that fatigue typically lasts about two years after treatment. Two years!!! So I guess my slow three miles (more walking than running), three months our of treatment, is better than nothing. You know what else can last two years? The neuropathy – the numb tingling feeling in my fingers and feet. I’m so sick of that – but guess it may be around a while longer…

But I’m here. And I’m basically healthy. And I have the best friends and family in the world. And I love my job. So I’m happy. And thankful. And I’m on the right track.

So I didn’t stop there. On Saturday, I took another step: I went to the Young Adult Cancer Conference at Dana-Farber. And I was really glad I did. More than the sessions, it was meeting other people around my age who have faced (or are facing) cancer, that made it such a worthwhile day. Everyone has a story, and they are all so compelling, no matter how straight forward they are. Kicking off the day was Mike Lang, a cancer survivor who, with his wife Bonnie, has completely transformed his life to help others facing cancer by taking them on adventures through Survive and Thrive Expeditions, as well as helping them tell their stories through movies, like Wrong Way to Hope. He shared his amazing story and clips from his latest venture: Valleys, which you can watch on Huff Post – Generation Why. Try to watch any of his work without shedding a tear – I dare you! It is so raw and true – we can all relate. What I really love is his motto: Reflect. Refocus. Rebuild. Live. Yup – that is exactly what I am doing!

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