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Fly up to Rochester
Feels incongruous the day after hundreds of thousands of people
March to save the world from climate change
Business as usual on the airlines
Plastic water bottles
Disposable single-use everything
Greeted by Bonnie at the airport
A new friend and immediate kindred spirit
We spend a delightful afternoon
With husband Kurt, and puppers ROz and Teddy
On a boat
Floating around Lake Honeoye
Dipping our feet in the chilly water
I envision abandoning everything to become a writer
Residing on the smallest of the Finger Lakes
In a little cabin
Making friends with the ducks and egrets
And learning to paddle board
Easy to have those visions
On the eve of a summery autumnal equinox
And not in the middle of a north-east frigid arctic winter
An enormous salad and grilled chicken for dinner
Downing gatorade. It’s going to be hot tomorrow.
Lay out the running gear
Place gels and dates in the pouch
Charge my phone
Charge the spare charger
Sleep and recharge myself
Wake up in the dark
A&D cream all over my feet
Under my sports bra
Under my arms
Don my uniform
Tie my laces
Bonnie and I head out as the sky is beginning to light
We drive to the finish line at Frontier Field
The parking lot is full of runners
School buses are lined up to take everyone down the road to the
Start line in Maplewood Park
We board with the other runners and a few supporters
A golden ball of a sun appears through the trees
Illuminating a sea of humanity
Over a thousand runners
Stretched out on the tennis courts
Bodies large and small, young and old
A celebration of humanity
The runners flex and chat
Nibble on apples and bananas and sachets of peanut butter
While their spouses and parents and loved ones stand by
Holding puppies and the remnants of breakfast
The announcer calls the runners to the start line
A benediction is given
While I’m in the port-a-loo
Thank you for the day, thank you for the runners, thank you for the volunteers
The national anthem is sung
It always makes me emotional
Last call to the start line
Bonnie waves,
I call out
“See you in six hours!”
A horn blares and we’re off
The Rochester Marathon 2019
Through the green and leafy park where
The air is cool and fresh
Out into an industrial looking area
(I later learn it is a Business Park)
One mile down,
Twenty-five point two to go.
Turn right onto Lake Avenue, a
Pretty tree-lined street
Running through the middle of two cemeteries
At the first water stop
I’m impressed that runners are throwing
Their cups into strategically placed bins
In New York, I’d be running on a sea of disintegrating paper
Make a right into Turning Point Park
Onto the Genesee Riverway Trail
Downhill under a canopy of trees
Someone has built cairns along the side of the path
Large and small stone towers precariously balanced
We come to the Genesee River
At the entrance to the boardwalk
A guitarist is playing
We run right over the water
And past mile four
Up the hill into suburbia
Turn right and come upon the entrance to a large bridge
The Colonel Patrick O'Rorke Memorial Bridge
It’s one of those bridges that can split in two
A marina below is filled with boats
The river is bounded by trees
A glorious sight
Over the bridge we enter
Irondeqouit
And begin a long loop back down to the start
I spend time wondering how to pronounce this place name
Iron-de-coit? Iron-de-quit? E-ron-de-quit?
The relay runners trade off
I envy the fresh runners
And try to run at my own pace
And not beat myself up for feeling slow
We come to a hill
Volunteers and onlookers at the top
You’ve got this! You made it!
All along St Paul’s Avenue
Families line the side of the road
They’ve set up their own water tables
Laden with snacks
Baked goods, fruit, and candy
“Take whatever you want! It’s all for you!”
One family has rented a jumping castle
Further down the road, a horn trio is set up on the grass
On one block, signs for Trump
On the next, signs for Biden and Warren
A kid tries to play saxophone while his friends
Run around him
A concrete bridge back over the river
A woman has the same hat as me
I tell her she has a nice hat
She laughs
Just before mile 10
We hear sirens
Motorbike police come down the road
“Move to the right. The leader is coming through!”
The man in first place comes sprinting past on his second lap
He is running so fast his feet seem to be touching his butt
His pace is incredible
We cheer for him
Back onto the Genesee River Trail
Through a parking lot filled with enthusiastic teens
Dressed in brightly colored outfits
Handing out water and gatorade
Back into Maplewood Park
The half-marathon runners can taste the finish
I breathe
End of the park
Back into the industrial zone
Half-way mark.
I’ve got this. I feel strong.
Marathon number four, you are mine.
Somewhere between mile 15 and 17
The sun begins to feel hot
I start to feel wiped
I begin to walk/run.
We turn right to make a loop through the Riverside Cemetery
To add an extra mile to the course
It’s quiet in the cemetery
I imagine the skeletons in their graves cheering for me
Wooohoooooo!
The occasional living volunteer with an orange flag points the way
I thank each one for staying on the course
I silently thank the volunteers unseen
Who placed yellow arrows on the ground
Genesee Riverway Trail
Trees. Cairns.
Downhill.
Run again.
The boardwalk. The river.
The guitarist is still there.
Thank you for being out here.
Thank you for playing.
I realize I’m not going to run this thing
In less than 6 hours
If I could run the rest of the way, I could do it
But the air is hot and
My legs and feet are burning
Tears sting
The goal is to finish, the goal is to finish
The goal is to finish
The Rochester Gilda’s Club volunteers
Are a welcome sight
At the end of the boardwalk
I want to run
I cannot run
I tell the volunteers what I’m doing
And that I’m a member in New York
They cheer extra loud
I try to run again
Suburbia.
The bridge.
Irondeqouit.
The hill.
The families have packed up
The saxophonist has gone inside
The horn players are still holding strong
One of them plays the call before a sergeant would yell
“Charge!”
I cannot charge. I wave.
Occasional police guard the road barricades
Volunteers.
Concrete bridge.
Maplewood Park.
The sweet teens from the
St John Fisher Rowing Team and
Harley Allendale Columbia Cross Country Club
Provide much needed water and cheering
The pink sports drink tastes like medicine
Head to the part where on the first lap
The half-marathon runners peeled away
I must be close?!
I am in agony
My feet hurt
My legs hurt
My sides hurt
My brain hurts
I’m slow
I’m last
Where is the finish?
Two miles to go.
Through Lower Falls Park
Run back over the river
A spectacular waterfall
I wish I had time to take a photo
I wish I had energy to take a photo
We leave the trail
Just before the 25 mile mark
A torturously steep hill
Toward the top, I see a guy bent over
Puking his guts up
I’ve never seen anything quite like it
He just keeps puking torrents of clear liquid
I wave to the volunteers at the top of the hill
They think I am waving because I need encouragement
I yell out, “He needs help!”
“What?”
“He needs help!”
The volunteers leap into action
An ambulance siren can be heard behind me
I hope the man is ok
Past another waterfall
My god, Rochester is gorgeous
I wish I could appreciate it
Right now, I have a marathon to finish
Turn onto a main road
The river becomes obscured by industrial warehouses
There is no shade
Only blazing sun
The world is unforgiving concrete and warehouses and trash
Cars crawl down the road on my left
Some guy rolls down his window
“Bit warm isn’t it?”
In my head, I tell him to fuck off
How many marathons have you run today, asshole?
I keep walking and trying to run
I know I’m so close
Turn right
Less than a kilometer to go
A volunteer: They’re going to close the course in 10 minutes
Me: No. I’m going to finish. Please tell them to let me finish.
I start running again.
The sky is bright blue.
My legs are burning.
My feet are burning.
Everything hurts.
Where is the goddamn finish line?!
I see it up ahead
I shuffle run
I desperately want to finish
Bonnie spots me. She cheers.
It gives me the last bit of oomph I need
I cross the finish line and burst into tears.
My calves cramp.
My feet cramp.
I am starving.
I down gatorade and a bagel.
And ice cream.
And water.
And more gatorade.
A massage therapist helps me through the cramping.
I have awful chafing between my legs. Didn’t think to put cream there. I know for next time.
That hurt.
That was hard.
I did it.
Marathon number four.
Feels incongruous the day after hundreds of thousands of people
March to save the world from climate change
Business as usual on the airlines
Plastic water bottles
Disposable single-use everything
Greeted by Bonnie at the airport
A new friend and immediate kindred spirit
We spend a delightful afternoon
With husband Kurt, and puppers ROz and Teddy
On a boat
Floating around Lake Honeoye
Dipping our feet in the chilly water
I envision abandoning everything to become a writer
Residing on the smallest of the Finger Lakes
In a little cabin
Making friends with the ducks and egrets
And learning to paddle board
Easy to have those visions
On the eve of a summery autumnal equinox
And not in the middle of a north-east frigid arctic winter
An enormous salad and grilled chicken for dinner
Downing gatorade. It’s going to be hot tomorrow.
Lay out the running gear
Place gels and dates in the pouch
Charge my phone
Charge the spare charger
Sleep and recharge myself
Wake up in the dark
A&D cream all over my feet
Under my sports bra
Under my arms
Don my uniform
Tie my laces
Bonnie and I head out as the sky is beginning to light
We drive to the finish line at Frontier Field
The parking lot is full of runners
School buses are lined up to take everyone down the road to the
Start line in Maplewood Park
We board with the other runners and a few supporters
A golden ball of a sun appears through the trees
Illuminating a sea of humanity
Over a thousand runners
Stretched out on the tennis courts
Bodies large and small, young and old
A celebration of humanity
The runners flex and chat
Nibble on apples and bananas and sachets of peanut butter
While their spouses and parents and loved ones stand by
Holding puppies and the remnants of breakfast
The announcer calls the runners to the start line
A benediction is given
While I’m in the port-a-loo
Thank you for the day, thank you for the runners, thank you for the volunteers
The national anthem is sung
It always makes me emotional
Last call to the start line
Bonnie waves,
I call out
“See you in six hours!”
A horn blares and we’re off
The Rochester Marathon 2019
Through the green and leafy park where
The air is cool and fresh
Out into an industrial looking area
(I later learn it is a Business Park)
One mile down,
Twenty-five point two to go.
Turn right onto Lake Avenue, a
Pretty tree-lined street
Running through the middle of two cemeteries
At the first water stop
I’m impressed that runners are throwing
Their cups into strategically placed bins
In New York, I’d be running on a sea of disintegrating paper
Make a right into Turning Point Park
Onto the Genesee Riverway Trail
Downhill under a canopy of trees
Someone has built cairns along the side of the path
Large and small stone towers precariously balanced
We come to the Genesee River
At the entrance to the boardwalk
A guitarist is playing
We run right over the water
And past mile four
Up the hill into suburbia
Turn right and come upon the entrance to a large bridge
The Colonel Patrick O'Rorke Memorial Bridge
It’s one of those bridges that can split in two
A marina below is filled with boats
The river is bounded by trees
A glorious sight
Over the bridge we enter
Irondeqouit
And begin a long loop back down to the start
I spend time wondering how to pronounce this place name
Iron-de-coit? Iron-de-quit? E-ron-de-quit?
The relay runners trade off
I envy the fresh runners
And try to run at my own pace
And not beat myself up for feeling slow
We come to a hill
Volunteers and onlookers at the top
You’ve got this! You made it!
All along St Paul’s Avenue
Families line the side of the road
They’ve set up their own water tables
Laden with snacks
Baked goods, fruit, and candy
“Take whatever you want! It’s all for you!”
One family has rented a jumping castle
Further down the road, a horn trio is set up on the grass
On one block, signs for Trump
On the next, signs for Biden and Warren
A kid tries to play saxophone while his friends
Run around him
A concrete bridge back over the river
A woman has the same hat as me
I tell her she has a nice hat
She laughs
Just before mile 10
We hear sirens
Motorbike police come down the road
“Move to the right. The leader is coming through!”
The man in first place comes sprinting past on his second lap
He is running so fast his feet seem to be touching his butt
His pace is incredible
We cheer for him
Back onto the Genesee River Trail
Through a parking lot filled with enthusiastic teens
Dressed in brightly colored outfits
Handing out water and gatorade
Back into Maplewood Park
The half-marathon runners can taste the finish
I breathe
End of the park
Back into the industrial zone
Half-way mark.
I’ve got this. I feel strong.
Marathon number four, you are mine.
Somewhere between mile 15 and 17
The sun begins to feel hot
I start to feel wiped
I begin to walk/run.
We turn right to make a loop through the Riverside Cemetery
To add an extra mile to the course
It’s quiet in the cemetery
I imagine the skeletons in their graves cheering for me
Wooohoooooo!
The occasional living volunteer with an orange flag points the way
I thank each one for staying on the course
I silently thank the volunteers unseen
Who placed yellow arrows on the ground
Genesee Riverway Trail
Trees. Cairns.
Downhill.
Run again.
The boardwalk. The river.
The guitarist is still there.
Thank you for being out here.
Thank you for playing.
I realize I’m not going to run this thing
In less than 6 hours
If I could run the rest of the way, I could do it
But the air is hot and
My legs and feet are burning
Tears sting
The goal is to finish, the goal is to finish
The goal is to finish
The Rochester Gilda’s Club volunteers
Are a welcome sight
At the end of the boardwalk
I want to run
I cannot run
I tell the volunteers what I’m doing
And that I’m a member in New York
They cheer extra loud
I try to run again
Suburbia.
The bridge.
Irondeqouit.
The hill.
The families have packed up
The saxophonist has gone inside
The horn players are still holding strong
One of them plays the call before a sergeant would yell
“Charge!”
I cannot charge. I wave.
Occasional police guard the road barricades
Volunteers.
Concrete bridge.
Maplewood Park.
The sweet teens from the
St John Fisher Rowing Team and
Harley Allendale Columbia Cross Country Club
Provide much needed water and cheering
The pink sports drink tastes like medicine
Head to the part where on the first lap
The half-marathon runners peeled away
I must be close?!
I am in agony
My feet hurt
My legs hurt
My sides hurt
My brain hurts
I’m slow
I’m last
Where is the finish?
Two miles to go.
Through Lower Falls Park
Run back over the river
A spectacular waterfall
I wish I had time to take a photo
I wish I had energy to take a photo
We leave the trail
Just before the 25 mile mark
A torturously steep hill
Toward the top, I see a guy bent over
Puking his guts up
I’ve never seen anything quite like it
He just keeps puking torrents of clear liquid
I wave to the volunteers at the top of the hill
They think I am waving because I need encouragement
I yell out, “He needs help!”
“What?”
“He needs help!”
The volunteers leap into action
An ambulance siren can be heard behind me
I hope the man is ok
Past another waterfall
My god, Rochester is gorgeous
I wish I could appreciate it
Right now, I have a marathon to finish
Turn onto a main road
The river becomes obscured by industrial warehouses
There is no shade
Only blazing sun
The world is unforgiving concrete and warehouses and trash
Cars crawl down the road on my left
Some guy rolls down his window
“Bit warm isn’t it?”
In my head, I tell him to fuck off
How many marathons have you run today, asshole?
I keep walking and trying to run
I know I’m so close
Turn right
Less than a kilometer to go
A volunteer: They’re going to close the course in 10 minutes
Me: No. I’m going to finish. Please tell them to let me finish.
I start running again.
The sky is bright blue.
My legs are burning.
My feet are burning.
Everything hurts.
Where is the goddamn finish line?!
I see it up ahead
I shuffle run
I desperately want to finish
Bonnie spots me. She cheers.
It gives me the last bit of oomph I need
I cross the finish line and burst into tears.
My calves cramp.
My feet cramp.
I am starving.
I down gatorade and a bagel.
And ice cream.
And water.
And more gatorade.
A massage therapist helps me through the cramping.
I have awful chafing between my legs. Didn’t think to put cream there. I know for next time.
That hurt.
That was hard.
I did it.
Marathon number four.
With thanks to Yellow Jacket Racing, the volunteers, the water stop groups, the musicians, and especially Bonnie Jaeckel for taking such good care of me.
The Rochester Marathon was my 4th marathon as part of my goal to run 5 marathons for 5 years of remission from acute myeloid leukemia. Number 5 will take place on November 4, a few days after the anniversary of my stem transplant, in New York City!
I am running with Fred's Team and raising vital funds for leukemia research at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center. It's my way of saying thank you to the team that saved my life.
If you feel inspired by my story, please consider making a donation!
The Rochester Marathon was my 4th marathon as part of my goal to run 5 marathons for 5 years of remission from acute myeloid leukemia. Number 5 will take place on November 4, a few days after the anniversary of my stem transplant, in New York City!
I am running with Fred's Team and raising vital funds for leukemia research at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center. It's my way of saying thank you to the team that saved my life.
If you feel inspired by my story, please consider making a donation!
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