This Little Piggy ...

I have eight toenails.

In case you're wondering, I have 10 toes. But only eight toenails.

This toenail deficiency is a recent thing. It officially happened last weekend, although it's been a while in the making.

The day after my Disney race, I noticed that the second toe on my right foot was particularly tender. I wasn't sure why. It felt as if the tenderness was coming from underneath my nail. I couldn't see anything wrong with my foot, but it definitely hurt when I put pressure on it.

I chalked it up to the effects of my first half marathon. Could have been a lot worse, I told myself.

The next day, Ericka, a fellow TnT-er, ran the full marathon. Later in day, she complained of a painful toenail. Hers was worse -- she could feel and see the fluid build-up under the nail. I think she may have even tried to pop it. (Ouch!)

I didn't think much more of my toenail pain, but as the weeks progressed and my running continued, I found my nail getting yellowed - almost bruised. Eventually, it felt loose - almost as if I could flick it right off of my toe without any effort at all.

I did nothing, figuring if my body decided it was time for it to go, it would fall off.

Then recently, probably after my next half marathon, the same thing happened to the second toe on my left foot. Although the pain wasn't nearly as noticeable, that toenail suffered the same nasty process, yellowing, bruising and loosening.

Yuck. What had I done to my once-decent-looking feet? (At least I've been told my feet are nice ... well, were nice. No one's seen them lately. And at this rate, I won't be showing anyone.)

I stopped at Runner's Alley last week to pick up some socks and GU for my upcoming half marathon. While checking out, I decided to ask the woman behind the counter about my toenail mishap.

"Happens to people all the time," she said. She then asked me a series of questions: did I have my shoes fitted, how far did I run, how often does it happen?

She told me about the tendency for the foot to tighten during long runs, pushing the toes against the top of the shoe. She told me about various ways to lace the shoe to avoid pressure on the toes. But, basically, she told me that there's really not much I can do.

Great, another battle scar? Aren't the scars on my knees and shoulder from my fall enough?

Giving my nails a little trim on Sunday, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I made my way to the loosened toenails and gingerly started cutting. And kept cutting and cutting.

I discovered a fresh, new toenail growing underneath. I cut the old toenail all the way back. The new one was extremely delicate and thin -- like a baby's fingernails -- but it was definitely there. The right foot looks better than the left, but I'm hoping that the left one keeps growing into a full nail.

Just before writing this I decided to do a little research. (Like everyone these days, I consider 'research' to be typing something into an online search engine and trusting the information that pops up.)

I googled "running toenails" and found a host of website with stories and advice. The woman at Runner's Alley was right. It does happen all the time.

The consensus of the websites was simple: After ruling out possible causes (shoes that don't fit, socks that are too thick, running in hot weather, etc.) and watching for ongoing problems (extreme pain, infection, etc.), just deal with it.

I guess that's what I'll do.

I just hope my brand-new, baby-like toenails make it through the Great Bay Half Marathon on Sunday. They're only a week old. I don't want to lose them yet.

Running Is A Team Sport

Below is a column that appeared in Foster's Sunday Citizen yesterday. Couldn't have said it better myself.

Andy Schachat: Running not a team sport? Think again
Sunday, March 30, 2008

As we begin another year of road races I feel compelled to comment on a recent story involving a couple of high school runners. That's because the message I want to convey from the story symbolizes my attitude about the sport. I also hope it serves as an inspirational message for the upcoming season of races.

In Vermont there is a rule that allows high school athletes from one school to compete for another if the original does not have a program in a particular sport. However, there is a catch: the rule only applies to team sports, not individual sports. Two young runners hoped to get an exception to the rule so they could join another school's cross country team. The two young men were denied their request and won't be able to run cross country in high school.

What does that have to do with us? What kind of "inspirational message" am I trying to convey? The notion that running is not a team sport.

Yes, I know that technically running is not a team sport but, if you are a runner, answer this question: doesn't the camaraderie, support, and spirit of the sport feel like you are part of a team? For those of you who played team sports, doesn't the feeling you get from being in a running club or joining dozens of others at races seem like it did when you played basketball, football, baseball, or hockey?

Running is not a team sport? In running, there is definitely strength in numbers. How many times have your training runs gone a lot smoother and felt a lot better when you ran with others? There is a reason why running clubs host weekly training runs and why club members get up early on a Saturday or Sunday morning to meet their fellow runners for one of those runs.

Every runner you know can tell you dozens of stories about training with others as part of the preparation for a big race.

How about the grueling track workouts? Those repeat quarter, half, and full miles, circling the track while busting a gut. I have tried track workout by myself and believe me, it isn't even close, the difference between solo track workouts and workouts with others.

The races themselves often offer a team spirit, especially during long races. Again, I defer to the stories of the running community. Runners can readily recall the many times a marathon or half-marathon effort was much easier with a partner running side by side.

Shorter distances can also create a team atmosphere. I will never forget one of my first races, the Bunker Hill 8K in Charlestown, Mass. In the second half of the race I wound up running side by side with a runner who was struggling. Then, in the last half-mile I slowed up and fell back. He turned to me and said, "get up here." If it wasn't for him I would have faded down the stretch. On that day, for that moment, we were teammates.

Then there are the intangibles that exist in a sport where everyone supports everyone else.

That famous line in the movie, "there is no crying in baseball" is replaced by "there is no booing in running." Ever see a faster runner taunt a slower runner? Attend a running club meeting, listen to the mutual support everyone offers each other, and you will find yourself wanting to go on a training run when the meeting is dismissed. Believe me, there is an infectious energy that comes from the group mentaility the sport of running offers.Interesting thing to consider when comparing the team sports to running. In team sports some of the team members are playing while the rest of the team is on the bench or sidelines and in most cases it is over half the team that is watching. Not in running. Everyone who shows up gets to participate.

I used to be an avid basketball player. That all changed when I started running and the biggest factor that kept me running and away from the hardwood was the camaraderie I felt from the local running community. It far exceeded anything I had experienced from my local basketball leagues.

So, what is my point? As we kick off the 2008 road race season take time to appreciate the "team" atmosphere of the sport. If you are new to running, take advantage of this atmosphere and soak it all in. You won't be sorry. It will make the upcoming months a much more rewarding and richer experience for you.

Memo to the young Vermont runners: you are welcome anytime.

Andy Schachat writes about running for Foster's Sunday Citizen and Daily Democrat. You can contact Andy at 608 Cocheco Court, Dover, N.H. or email at aschach@tttlc.net.

Everyone Has A Story

I had my first Saturday off from work in several weeks and couldn't pass up the opportunity to get back for a run with the team -- despite the fact that I had a 4-mile race on my calendar for later in the day.

But the April Fools' 4-Miler, the third in the race series I signed up for, wasn't until 11 a.m. That gave me time to get 6 miles in with the team, then head to Salisbury for the race.

Crazy? Probably. But how else was I going to fill my day off?

Actually, it wasn't that bad. The 6 miles with the team went well. I was glad they were running relatively slowly. Coach Jack ran with us and we chatted for a while. Then I ran with another team member, Shauna, who recently lost 100+ pounds and discovered a love of running.

Her weight loss really triggered a completely new life for her. In fact, people don't even recognize her, she told me. She lost the weight through good diet and lots of exercise. Last fall, she and her sister trained for and completed the Manchester Marathon. Good for them.

On Sunday, Shauna took at left at the Old Mobil to get 7 miles in for the day. I took a right and finished up the 6-mile loop. I was concerned about time and that my legs would be too tired for the race.

I made it back to my car in plenty of time, stopped for a bagel and drove to the race.

Once at the registration table, I picked up my number and another long-sleeved T-shirt (another something to wear to bed, I guess) and searched for the Starting Line, which wasn't visible from the registration area.

I spotted a couple of older ladies wearing jackets with the logo of the running club who was hosting the race. I figured they would know where to go.

So I walked with them -- discovering that one of them had just turned 87 years old. Yes, 87 years old and walking to the chilly start of a 4-mile road race. Oh, by the way, she had cracked a rib a few weeks earlier, but thought she'd be well enough to finish. And finish she did. (I looked for her on the results page posted on CoolRunning.com.) Good for her.

Near the starting line, runners huddled up against a big building that blocked the wind. I struck up a conversation with the runner next to me -- a young woman from Scarborough, Maine, who signed up for the race series with her husband.

As we chatted, she told me that she's in training for an Ultra Marathon --- 50K. That's 30+ miles.

Her big run is coming up in a few weeks. On Sunday, she was planning on running a 20-mile race from Maine through New Hampshire to Massachusetts. She's run the Disney Marathon for 9 years with her husband and this year did the Goofy Challenge, where participants run the Half Marathon on Saturday and the Full Marathon on Sunday.

To look at her, she didn't look like a super-athlete. She just looked like anyone else in the crowd for the 4-miler. We ran together for the first couple of miles of the race. I asked her a lot of questions about an Ultra Marathon -- mostly trying to understand what would drive a person to do such a thing.

She liked a challenge, completes three or so marathons a year and was looking for something new. So why not run 50K? Well, good for her.

I finished the race in 37 minutes, 40 seconds - averaging a 9:20 mile. I was very pleased with the time, especially considering the race actually made for 10 miles for me for the day. Good for me.

It's really interesting to meet to people and hear their stories. Everyone seems to have one: the runner who lost 100+ pounds and decided to train for a marathon, the 87-year-old woman who's still running races, the Ultra-Marathoner... and me.

Wake Up, NH!

It's officially spring in New Hampshire.

Despite morning temps in the teens and the threat of snow showers on the evening news forecast, the calendar says spring. We have longer days, stronger sun and can walk comfortably from the parking lot to a building without being whipped by winter's wind.

This winter has been particularly long and cold. Our first snowfall on December 1st was a doozy, and it just got worse from there. We've endured snow piles higher than I can remember and have teetered on breaking the record for the all-time snowiest winter. In New Hampshire, that's quite a feat.

When we finally change the clocks to make for longer evenings, feel the slight warmth of the sun and even see a hint of grass under the melting snow, we know spring is upon us.

As I ran my long run on Sunday, I couldn't help but notice something new -- signs of life.

I saw children playing in their driveways, passed a few walkers and bicyclists, heard the sounds of water running in the once-frozen brook and saw a handful of robins hoping along in the yards. Rebel was even able to take a drink out of the melting lake that we pass about five miles into the run.

For the past few months, it seems, I've been the only one crazy enough to be out. I can't remember the last time I passed a bicyclist or someone walking their dog.

I've endured some pretty cold temperatures, snow and anything else winter could throw at me in order to keep up with my training.

As the rest of my neighborhood hibernated inside their cozy homes, I was out there putting one foot in front of the other. At times I could smell their fireplaces and pictured them sipping hot chocolate in front of the fire while they curled up on the couch on a Sunday morning.

Part of me wanted to be like them -- relaxing in my PJs in the warmth of my house, not having to worry about whether I was wearing enough layers.

Instead, I ran, the wind and cold hitting my face so hard at times that I ran with my gloved hands against my cheeks. I pictured them looking out their window thinking, "There goes that girl and her dog again."

Some might have thought I was extremely disciplined and dedicated, but most probably just thought I was crazy.

There were plenty of times I didn't feel like going out, but I knew I had to if I wanted to run the Disney Half Marathon. So I did. And then I kept going.

The funny thing is that I actually came to enjoy it. If I missed a few training runs, I didn't feel as good during the day, I probably ate more than I should and I even felt a bit guilty at times.

I figure if I made it through the winter training season, the warm weather might help me enjoy running even more. I won't be something I have to do, but something I want to do.

As satisfying as it is knowing that I toughed it out through the winter while everyone else was inside, it was nice to see signs of life along my running route this weekend. There's only more to come.

Wake up, New Hampshire. Spring is finally here.

In The Bag

Ever look at a woman's purse or wallet? Isn't it amazing what we will hold on to for fear of needing it some day?

I was sitting next to a friend of mine at a dinner party last week, and while she was searching for a few bucks to buy a drink, she actually pulled out a DVD. I think it was Super Bad. Yes, really.

I told her she would have been great on Let's Make A Deal, where Monty Hall would try to stump the audience by asking for odd items. And usually someone had them.

Well, my purse isn't that bad. (I'm actually writing that with a straight face.) But I did find one item of interest while cleaning out a few things today.

Written on the back of my Disney itinerary supplied to us by the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society was a list of numbers, along with some barely legible scribbles.

• 777 Porta Potties
• 520 Buses to shuttle runners
• 16,000 runners in the Half Marathon
• 18,000 runners in the Full Marathon
• 3,000 that do both races -- the half on Saturday and the Full on Sunday (yes, you read that correctly)
• 88,000 gallons of water
• 840,000 cups
• $5.6 million raised by the TnT runners for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society
• 1,800 Tnt Runners (known as the Purple People by race organizers)
  
• 17,000 sponges
• 900 medical staff
• 5,000 volunteers
  

I made the notes during the TnT Pasta Party at Epcot Center last month. (I guess I'll always have a little bit of reporter in me.)

The Pasta Party was probably one of the most emotional and inspiring parts of the Disney Marathon Weekend. As we turned the corner to make our way to the banquet hall on Friday afternoon before Race Day, the sounds of cheering, horns, whistles and almost every other imaginable noise hit us square in the face.

Volunteers, staff members, coaches, mentors and cancer survivors and formed two lines on either side of us. The sights and sounds were almost overwhelming. Costumes of every color. Signs and noise makers everywhere. They were celebrating the accomplishments of the TnT Disney runners. They were celebrating us.

I'm sure I wasn't the only one holding back tears as these perfect strangers showed their support and appreciation. Suddenly, we realized that we were part of something much bigger.

We weren't just individual runners out to reach a goal. We weren't even the small New Hampshire Disney Team or the regional Massachusetts team. We were part of a special group of people that put their sweat and tears into this challenge. We pushed ourselves physically and mentally. We reached out to friends and family members to help make our fundraising goals.

We helped change lives -- not only our own lives but also those affected by blood cancers.

I don't think I really 'got it' until that very moment when the thousands of runners and families made their way into the hall.

Once inside, we piled our plates with pasta in preparation of our upcoming races. We listened to survivors, participants and others. We celebrated the victories of teams throughout the country.

We, too, celebrated our accomplishments.

When we returned from Disney, we asked Coach Jack and Dave why they didn't tell us what to expect from the Pasta Party. They wanted to leave some surprises, they said. Plus, you can't really describe it and do it justice.

As always, they were right.

The Anti-Disney

Cold, rain and snow. That's what I'll probably remember most about my second half marathon, which I ran yesterday at Hampton Beach.

Generally, a run along the beach would sound like a treat. But when it's February in New Hampshire, a 13-mile run can seem like it goes on forever. And that was certainly the case yesterday.

When I opened my front door to let Rebel out Saturday night, I saw a steady stream of snow coming down. The roads were covered and most certainly un-runnable. Maybe I wouldn't be running, I thought.

But when I woke up Sunday morning, despite the fresh layer of snow and a steady wind, I decided to go for it. It would make for a good experience, would keep my training up and fulfill another race in the series I signed up for earlier this year. (Two down, three to go....The things we do for a jacket!)

The Hampton Half was the Anti-Disney. For starters, there was no build up and well wishes. I only told a few people that I might run it... certainly didn't send out an email to let everyone know I'd be running.

Unlike the night before my Disney run, I didn't lay out my clothes ahead of time. I got a good night's sleep and was surprisingly relaxed.

Then there was the start time -- 11 a.m. -- a far cry from Disney's 6 a.m. start, which required me to wake up at 1:45 a.m. to make the the team meeting, a 3 a.m. bus and the requirement to be at the start area by 4 a.m.

Everything about the Hampton Half was different. The runners there seemed like serious runners. I can't even count the number of marathon jackets and shirts I saw. A 13.1 mile run was just part of the training for these folks. Unlike the Disney runners, they weren't there for the experience. No one carried cameras or wore crazy costumes.

There were few signs and supporters on the sides of the roads. No marching bands, DJs, cheerleaders.

The run was actually kind of lonely. I missed those purple shirts. It may have been the first time that I wanted my iPod with me.

I chatted with a few people that ran my pace along the way. It wasn't like Disney where people on the sidelines kept your attention (and distracted your mind from the fact that you were running so far).

I did my best to keep up with the pacer I selected at the start of the race. I fell back a little at Mile 5, but stayed far enough ahead of the group to avoid the pacer behind me. I shaved 7 minutes off my first half marathon, which I was proud of , especially considering the weather conditions.

Plus, I had done this one on my own. I took what I learned in TnT training and kept it up.

I won't say that the last three miles weren't tough. At several points along the way, I asked myself why I showed up for this race. The snow came down at a good clip in abnormally large flakes -- which somehow kept finding their way to my eyelashes -- somewhere around Mile 7.

Then, as the route made its way along the New Hampshire coast, the rain came. It was a cold, cold rain. My feet were soaked, making me glad that I chose to wear my old sneakers. That coastline route lasted five miles -- five cold, wet miles.

Normally, the beach is one of my favorite places. I love the smell of the salt air, the sand on my feet and the sounds of seagulls, waves and families playing along the water.

But this beach wasn't inviting. I couldn't see the sand from where I was, but I'm sure there was no one sitting on the beach. I saw one surfer -- the one person that might have been crazier than the 800+ people that ventured out for the Hampton Half Marathon.

The ocean had a green hue to it. It churned and crashed against the rocks. I think it was telling us to go home.

I struggled for the last mile. My body told me to stop, but I made myself keep going. The struggle must have been evident to passersby. At one point, an older gentleman dressed head to toe in royal blue spandex, gave me some encouragement.

"C'mon, kid, just another mile," he said, as he jogged past me.

Believe it or not, just those simple words were enough to keep me going. As the obviously seasoned runner kept pace in front of me, I studied his calf muscles, which looked like mangoes stuffed in the legs of his running tights. How many miles has this guy run in his lifetime, I wondered.

I never thought I'd want the legs of a 60-something-year-old man. But, boy, he looked much better in tights than I do. (Yes, these are the things that I think about while running.)

I never knew .1 miles could seem to far, but as I passed the 13-mile mark I couldn't believe the race wasn't over yet. It probably didn't help that my feet were sloshing through puddles, I was freezing and soaked through to my underwear. At points, we were dodging waves that crashed up over the walls of the beach.

Finally, I saw the Finish Line. A few supporters braved the weather and offered some applause as runners made their way across the finish.

It certainly was the Anti-Disney -- no fanfare, huge crowds or perfect Florida weather. Instead of a victory party with thousands of people the next day, a day full of work and meetings is on tap for me.

But, to add another Half Marathon to my list of races (and to get that stupid race series jacket), I'd do it all over again.

It's THIS Sunday?

Last night Jamie and I finally connected, after a few weeks of phone tag and text messages. Did I want to meet her at the gym to run, she asked.

Couldn't because of some scheduling conflicts, I said, but hopefully we'd get to run soon.

Then I asked her if she was ready for Sunday's race -- another half marathon she signed up for a few months ago. I agreed to run it with her.

It's this Sunday?? Apparently Jamie thought we had a few more weeks to train.

The thought of running another half marathon so soon after my Disney run was a little daunting. I hadn't really run much, but seeing the Hampton Half on my calendar made me step up my training a bit in the past week or so. At the TnT Informational Night last week, Dave said I'd probably be fine if I did one long run this weekend.

Thanks to my new favorite website (www.mapmyrun.com), I was able to find a nice 9-mile route around the lake by my house.

It was a relatively nice day for a long run, despite the coating of ice that had been dumped on us the night before. With temps in the 40s, the ice was melting -- making for a messy run through puddles and sand used to coat the roads.

I'd never run that far without the team. Rebel, my four-legged trusty running partner, enjoyed the challenge and completed the whole run. (Congrats to Rebs for running farther than he ever has -- with energy to spare. He slept briefly while I showered, but then was ready to play ball shortly after our run.)

Hearing the words of Dave and Coach Jack, I made sure to eat well and hydrate before the run. I strapped on my fuel belt and put a GU in my pocket. And the 9 miles passed relatively easily.

Yep, I'm ready for Sunday's Hampton Half ... if Jamie is.

The Next Generation

I guess I'm not officially part of the TnT program anymore, meaning I'm not training for a specific event or fundraising for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

But I'm still very much a part of the Tnt program. Or at least I hope to be.

Last night I went to the Informational Night for the next team. There was a small group of runners (perhaps only two right now---anyone interested?) and several people there to sign up for a triathlon. (See, running a half marathon seems pretty sane when compared to some of the other events.)

At one point, a girl in the back row raised her hand and expressed doubts about whether she could actually run a half or full marathon in a few short months. We knew how she felt. Just a few months ago, we were in her shoes, wondering if we could actually complete this challenge.

Dave, Jack, Erin, Kara and I all chimed in. Yes, you can. And we really mean it.

We were there because we truly believe in the program, the training and the people. We know it can change your life. That girl in the back row will find out soon enough.

Worth A Thousand Words

The Disney Half Marathon is behind me. Yep, 13.1 miles done.

It was an awesome experience, one that's difficult to fully explain. As our coach and mentor told us when we returned from Florida, you really can't describe what it's like until you've been there. As always, they were right.

The run was great and my excellent training paid off. But it was about more than just the running. Sure, I ran 13.1 miles -- definitely farther than I ever imagined. But I also met some great friends along the way, developed a passion for running and supported a great cause in the process. We helped save lives.

I posted a few more photos below that I hope will share just a fraction of what the weekend was like. More stories and photos will be posted soon, I promise. Be sure to check back.

For now, please accept my many thanks for your support of this project. With your help, I raised more than $3,700 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Our nationwide team, made up of 1,800 runners, raised $5.3 million!

Yes, $5.3 million. Incredible.

I truly encourage everyone to try something like this. Trust me, you can do it and it will change your life.

I DID IT!

I've been told that I have a knack for capturing a scene or experience and putting it into writing. But I don't think anyone can really share what the Disney Marathon Weekend experience was like.

Over the next several days (or perhaps weeks) I will do my best to share the weekend with you, keeping in mind that I have a job to catch up on, a dog who misses me and a charming friend I'd like to see this week.

For now, I'll just proudly say I FINISHED and had the time of my life doing it.

Stay tuned for more photos and stories from my Disney Marathon Weekend.