John Carrier

It has been just over a week since I ran the Las Vegas Marathon.  Though I’ve long since emptied my suitcase and washed my running clothes, I’m still “unpacking” the experience mentally and emotionally.  I had several incredible experiences leading up to the race and met many great people on my brief trip out West, both related and incidental to the race itself.  For now I just want to recount my experience of the race itself while it’s fresh in my mind.  I’ll continue to “upack” other aspects of the trip as my reflections unfold.

My run: I finished in 5 hours, 35 minutes, and 18 seconds.  I had set my goal time initially at 4:45, following my 5:06 run of the Twin Cities Marathon in October.  After coming down with a chest cold during my training for Las Vegas, I revised my expectations and just hoped to beat my Twin Cities time.  In the end I fell far short of that goal, due to a variety of factors.  First, the whole race is in a high desert climate, with altitudes ranging from around 1,400 feet to around 1,800 feet above sea level.  Consequently there were twice as many water stops (one every mile) as there were in the Twin Cities Maration.  I erred by not adjusting my scheduled walk breaks — 1 minute walking for every 10 minutes running — to account for these extra water breaks, and I wound up walking more than I think I needed to.  Since I have a hard time taking in water, sports drink, and energy gels without walking for 30 to 60 seconds, in future races I’ll be more diligent to deduct my “refueling” walk time from my 10-and-1 walk time.

 The weather: Perfect.  Started in the high 40’s, finished in the low 60’s, and dry but overcast all day.  Only the barren wastes that stretched out beside the road far in the northern suburbs reminded me that I was running in a desert.

The course:  Despite the noted variation in elevation, I didn’t notice any remarkably daunting hills on the course.  It felt really flat, except for a couple of dips under some overpasses.  The whole course was on asphalt-paved roads — easier on the knees than concrete sidewalks — but it was occasionally wise to stick to the middle of the road, as desert roads often are built to be convex so that flash-flood-causing rains will wash down to the sides rather than washing out the road.

The organization:  It was pretty clear that this is only the fourth year of the marathon and the third year of the concurrent half-marathon, compared to this years 27th running of the Twin Cities marathon.  Water stops, while welcome and greatly appreciated, could have been organized better.  By mile four, when runners were starting to get thirsty and before the half-marathon runners split off from the full-marathon runners, water stops brought everyone to a screeching halt while volunteers poured water in to cups for waiting participants, rather than just grabbing cups from great pyramidal stacks.  The relative youth of the race was also apparent in the relative dearth of spectators along the course.  The fans and the volunteers who came out were great, as were the police who did a great job keeping the course clear, but there were a lot more and a lot longer stretches with no cheering fans than you might see in a race of longer standing.

The punchline:  At the end of the 26.2-mile day, I highly recommend the Las Vegas Marathon, especially for first-timers.  It looks like I’ve got a lot of complaints about this race, from my own performace to the organization of the race itself, but all criticism here is to help me learn from my mistakes and help you prepare for the course.  All the dings can be fixed by experience — mine, as well as that of the Las Vegas race organizers.  There’s lots of water along the course, the first few miles are run under fireworks along the famous Las Vegas Strip, and there’s no other marathon on earth where you can take advantage of a run-through wedding chapel or see literally hundreds of Elvis impersonators running along side you.

I’m really glad I did it, and I’d like to run it again next year, only much, much faster.

Last night I bottled my fourth batch of hefeweizen.  Hefeweizen has been my most popular concoction to date; it has a broad appeal for beer-drinkers and non-beer-drinkers alike.  I believe it’s the lack of aromatic hops that does it.  People who like the flavor and aroma of hops really, really like hoppy beers, whereas those who don’t care for it find hops repellently bitter.  Traditionally, hefeweizen only contains a small amount of bittering hops in the beginning of the boil and no aromatic hops at all.

Following what I believe is a Belgian tradition of using fruit or spice flavors in place of the aromatic hops, I’ve augmented the Hank’s Hefeweizen recipe from Midwest Supplies with citrus peel, coriander, and ginger.  I got the idea for the spices from Rogue’s Half-E-Weizen (they are kind enough to tout their ingredients on the label) and the fruit idea from the tradition of serving hefeweizen with a slice of lemon (Germany) or orange (America).

Last time I used the zest of one navel orange, a teaspoon of freshly ground coriander seeds, and a teaspoon of powdered ginger.  This time, I swapped the orange for the zest of two organic lemons, and I doubled the coriander.  The result as of bottling time is a smooth, disarmingly mild, refreshing yet potent ale.  Give it four weeks to condition in the bottle, and I expect it to be my best beer yet.

Right now it’s about 10pm Pacific time, and my roommate and I are getting up at 3:30am to prepare for our run tomorrow, the Las Vegas Marathon.  Bus leaves for the start line at Mandalay Bay at 4:30 (with bagels and bananas en route) and the race starts at 6:07.

When I signed up for this race, I had set a goal to finish in 4 hours, 45 minutes, but between a wicked chest cold during training and the high desert climate here, I’ll be psyched to finish in around 5 hours.

No worries, though.  With the help of more than 60 friends, colleagues, and family members, I exceeded my fundraising goal of $3,600.  Running with the other 71 runners here on behalf of Team Lifeline — together we raised about $350,000 for Chai lifeline — will be honor and privilege enough, however long it takes me.

Running with hundreds of Elvii will just be gravy.

“I stand before you tonight because all across America something is stirring. What the nay-sayers don’t understand is that this election has never been about me. It’s been about you.”

–Barack Obama, in his victory speech in Chicago on Election Night

If you are reading this, it means you haven’t put me in your spam filter or your mental wastebasket just yet, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that.

This message may be my final request for sponsorship of my run in the Las Vegas Marathon this Sunday on behalf of Chai Lifeline, a phenomenal organization that brings great joy to the lives of seriously ill children and their families.  I depart for Las Vegas tomorrow, and I likely will have limited access to email before I get home after Sunday’s race.

At approximately 11pm on the eve of Thanksiving, one of my early sponsors made an additional contribution that pushed me over the finish line.  With the help of 63 sponsors, I met my fundraising commitment to Chai Lifeline of $3,600.  I have seldom been more proud of anything than I was at that moment, nor have I had the occasion to feel more grateful to so many people like I am now.

So why am I still blogging about this?  I’ve reached my goal; why don’t I just go run my race and stop bothering people?

Because it’s not about me.

Yes, I trained and prepared for this race.   I set $3,600 for Chai Lifeline as a personal goal.  I sent a lot of e-mails and collected a lot of money.  Blah, blah, blah, me, me, me.  All of that is meaningless without the work that Chai Lifeline is doing for sick kids and their families. 

I trained for a few weeks in order to run for just a few hours, but the real effort is being undertaken every day throughout the year to help these kids have a great summer at Camp Simcha or Camp Simcha Special and to provide many other programs to help these families year-round. 

$3,600 is an admirable start, and much appreciated by Chai Lifeline, to be sure.  But their needs are much bigger than my personal goal.  I recenly found out from another runner that it costs more than $4,500 to send one seriously ill child to Camp Simcha, and I think it would be awesome if together, you and I hit that number and send one kid to camp, all expenes paid.

So I’m asking you one more time, not for me, but for Chai Lifeline and the families they help.

Help Chai Lifeline Now.

Because at the end of the day, as President-Elect Obama said, this campaign has never been about me.  It’s been about you.  Chai Lifeline has given me something to run for, but more importantly, Chai Lifeline is giving you the opportunity to be a part of the work they do.  If you can, I really hope you take advantage of that opportunity.

If you’ve been considering sponsoring me to help Chai Lifeline, but you haven’t found the time to do so,  please click on this link:

Help Chai Lifeline Now.

I’ll bet you can get it done in 3 minutes or less, and this may be the last reminder I post, so please don’t put it off any longer.

Sometime after Sunday’s race, I’ll be sending a final email with my finishing time and maybe a couple of pictures to prove I survived, but I’ll only be sending that email to sponsors.  I really hope you get that e-mail.

Help Chai Lifeline Now.

Thanks again for reading, and I’ll see you on the other side.

Warmest regards,

John Carrier

Dear Sponsors,

As someone who has endured at least one — if not several — of my long-winded fundraising emails, you may be glad to hear that I am now at a loss for words.  Suffice it to say that we made it.  We made it.  Thanks to you, we raised $3,600 for Chai Lifeline.

During what has been called the worst US economy since the great depression, 63 sponsors donated $3,600 for sick kids and their families in less than 6 weeks.  For your contribution toward this goal, I am forever in your debt.

May God bless your travels, your tables, and your gatherings this Thanksgiving Holiday.

Thank you.

A quick story about what marathon running means to me:

I was just having lunch with an old friend I hadn’t seen in a while, not since before I signed up for my first marathon and joined the elite club of the “Reasonably Fit and Measurably Insane” long-distance runners.  He asked my what my thought process was…why did I get into it, and what do I got out of it.

The first question is easy to answer.  I’d been thinking about running a marathon for a while.  Then my wife and I found out we’re expecting.  Within a few weeks, the first bulge was unmistakable.

Not on her, mind you.  I’m talking about sympathy weight gain — mine.  My waistline was growing faster than hers.  So I signed up for the Twin Cities Marathon, thinking even if I chicken out or hurt myself before I get there (both highly probably events) at least I will have fought off a few extra pounds in the process.  In the end, with much help from God and a little masochism on my own part, I finished my first 26.2-miler.

The second question is harder to answer, because I’ve gotten so much out of becoming a marathon runner.  I’m more fit, more confident, more diligent in pursuing my goals, and yes, mildly smug about the accomplishment.  But above all that, I have to say that this has been the greatest reward:  I’ve been able to reevaluate my personal concept of “possibility”.

When I was in high school, I didn’t think I could run, and I got a doctor’s note (for a “congenital pronated heel”…weak, I know) to get me out of any sport that involved running.  I only made the varsity rowing team because it was the one sport you could do in my school while sitting down.  From then on I never even tried to run, until I met a girl who isa runner.  Soon after, I proposed to that girl, and to get me in shape for our wedding, that girl signed me up for a 10K race workshop.  We finished the race together in under an hour, and after our wedding, we both ran the Twin Cities 10-Mile.  Alas, due to my wife’s wonderful “condition” I had to run the marathon alone.

In finishing the marathon, I crossed a personal frontier.  The kid who thought he could never run became a sedentary adult who still thought he could never run…until I did.  And when I ran 26.2 miles, I cried.  I tried to say a prayer, a blessing that I was saving for the finish line, and I had to start three times before I could finish it.  And I resolved that after that, I would never consider any personal feat of physical or mental endurance “impossible” ever again.

I also resolved that while the first marathon was for me, to show myself I could do it, the rest of my marathons — and God willing, there will be many — will be for others.

Once I decided to run for Chai Lifeline, I saw that are just two races coming up, December 7 in Las Vegas and January 25 in Miami.  Miami is the same weekend as my son’s bar mitzvah; no way I’m traveling then.  But I was scared to death that I wouldn’t be able to reach the fundraising goal by the Las Vegas deadline of November 30.  I signed up on October 18, near certain that raising $3,600 in just 6 weeks was…well, impossible.  But that wouldn’t stop me from trying.

Five weeks later…56 sponsors have now donated $3,236 to Chai Lifelien on my behalf.  My friends and family have read a lot of long emails, and many have dug deep in their pockets even though times are tough and there are a lot of good causes out there to support.  Many people can’t sponsor me but have offered their heartfelt encouragement because that’s really all they can afford, and their moral support will still carry me across the finish line.  If this is you, don’t worry about sponsorship; just email me a note of encouragement I can print and put in my pocket on race day.  But if you can sponsor me…

Sponsor My Run

I’m confident that it’s going to happen.  I’m going to Vegas, I’m going to run, and I’m going to finish.  Some kids with serious illness and their families are going to get help and support because my friends, family, and colleagues believe in Chai Lifeline and believe in me to pull this off.  All I need now is $414 to honor my fundraising commitment to Chai Lifeline, and $414 in 6 days doesn’t even belong in the same time zone as “impossible”.

If you’re not inspired to give, that’s OK.  If you don’t need the tax break (100% deductible), or you’ve given all you can to another worthy cause, bless you.  If you want to help but you’re out of work and can’t spare a dime, I’ve been there, and I feel you.  But if you’ve been thinking about it, planning to give, and just haven’t found the time yet, please consider clicking the link below and sponsoring me right now:

Sponsor My Run

It only takes a minute, and every single donation is appreciated, no matter how small.  Please do it today and be apart of what’s shaping up to be the most gratifying, humbling, and important thing I’ve ever done.  If you can help me reach this goal, I know you will, because now I know nothing…NOTHING…is impossible.

Sponsor My Run

Of the great Rabbi Akiba and his wife Rachel, “it is related that once, when a bundle of straw was the only bed they possessed, a poor man came to beg some straw for a bed for his sick wife. Akiba at once divided with him his scanty possession, remarking to his wife, ‘Thou seest, my child, there are those poorer than we!’ This pretended poor man was none other than the prophet Elijah, who had come to test Akiba.” (Ned. 50a, from Wikipedia).

I know times are tough.

I know the US economy is the worst it has been since the Great Depression. In response to my appeals to help Chai Lifeline, at least 3 people have said, “John, I’d love to help, but I’m out of work right now, and I simply can’t.” I can dig that.

When I signed up to run this marathon and meet this fundraising goal for Chai Lifeline, I was out of work, too. It gave me more time to run, but it was hell on my PowerAde and sneaker budget, not to mention my confidence in the future. As a consultant most of my jobs are measured in weeks or months, if not hours. Usually, my projects line up one after the other, with little or no break in between. This time, the break lasted two months. So I get it, believe me. By the grace of God, I’m working again, and I can even afford to take off a couple of days for a little jog in Las Vegas.

The same sages from the Jewish tradition who tell us we are morally obligated to give 10% to 20% of out net income to charity ALSO say that we are FORBIDDEN to give a dime until our own and our family’s basic needs are met, lest by our charitable giving we become a burden on our brothers, too. So if you really can’t give, please, please don’t.

But if you can…

Please Sponsor My Marathon For Chai Lifeline

Checking my progress toward the $3,600 goal — 40 sponsors have given a total of $2,523 — I noticed that the lowest sponsorship amount has been $18. And I’m not knocking my $18 sponsors; far from it. I’m wondering why I don’t have any sponsors at $10, or $5.

My message today is this: If you feel like you want to help, but you can’t justify $18 right now, consider $10. If $10 is a stretch — and I know I’ve had times recently where $10 is a stretch — consider lucky number $7. This is Vegas we’re talking about, after all.

Please Sponsor My Marathon For Chai Lifeline

When times are as bad as they are now, everyone hurts — you, me, and even great organizations like Chai Lifeline whose donor pools dry up and whose endowments shrink with the stock market. As family budgets shrink, it’s more important than ever that we be careful with our giving. Your donation to Chai Lifeline is 100% tax-deductible, with 83 cents on the dollar going straight to programs like Camp Simcha and 17 cents going to organize and promote the race. It’s also more important than ever to help families with seriously ill children — facing their own budget crises AND soaring medical costs — have access to Chai Lifeline’s totally free programs.

Time is short. I have 10 days to raise $1,077, and just $10 from you could make all the difference in the world, not just to me, but to the families of Chai Lifeline as well.

Please Sponsor My Marathon For Chai Lifeline

Thanks again for reading and for your consideration. May God bless you in these difficult times.

Today I’m going to share with you an important term in the marathon runner’s vocabulary:  The Wall.

The Wall is something experienced by endurance athletes once they have used up the ready energy stored in their muscles from the big Pasta Party dinner the night before.  The body has to shift to burning fat and whatever sugars the athlete can eat on the run.  This physiological event is characterized by a sudden wave of fatigue, followed by intense doubt and even existential crisis.  It’s gut-check time for the marathon runner.  What am I doing here?!  Do I have what it takes to finish this race?  

You literally feel like a brick wall has popped up in your path with no clear way around it.  At that point, all you can do is put one foot forward, then another, and if your heart can talk your mind and your legs out of quitting, you push through The Wall and keep on trucking all the way to the end. 

No one who gets over The Wall brags about it too much, because we know that only by a hair’s breadth did our determination to reach our goal overwhelm our fatigue, pain, and acute desire to quit.

Chai Lifeline’s fundraising deadline for the Las Vegas Marathon runners is November 30th, just 12 days away.  Thanks to the generous support of 34 sponsors, I have raised $2,269, or 63% of my goal.  In marathon terms, I’ve completed 16.5 miles of the total 26.2. 

16.5 miles is awesome!  But when I ran the Twin Cities Marathon last month, 16.5 miles is exactly where I hit The Wall.  

It happened to me on the steep climb up the east bank of the Mississippi, and I pushed through it, with the help of God, as well as a little nudge from Simon Pegg, who portrayed The Wall so hilariously in the movie “Run Fatboy Run“.  (Not quite as funny as “Hot Fuzz“, but if you like Simon Pegg, it’s worth a rental.)

I’m climbing the east bank now, folks.  I have 12 days to raise $1,331, and I need your help.

I’m going to break a rule of fundraising here and say, “Please don’t send me $1,331.”  You don’t have to make a big donation to make a huge difference to me and to the kids Chai Lifeline helps.  Nobody leaps over The Wall in a single bound.  I know that the only way through The Wall is one step at a time, one foot in front of the other.  Whatever donation you can manage, whatever single step you can take with me, you put me closer to the finish line.

If you have been planning to sponsor me but haven’t found the time yet, please consider sponsoring me today.  Click the link below and take 5 minutes max to donate online. 

http://www.teamlifeline.org/mypage.php?myid=55555

Don’t hold back until I’m in the last mile; the last mile is a breeze compared to The Wall at 16.5.  Help me break through The Wall today, for the sake of Chai Lifeline and the families they help every day.

Thanks again for reading, and thanks for your consideration.

A couple of months ago I started volunteering at the Ronald McDonald House near the University of Minnesota campus.  On any given night, this house lodges 48 families from all over the US and around the world, so that families can stay close to their children who are fighting a serious illnesses with the help of area hospitals that specialize in treating those illnesses.
 
My job as a housewarmer is to help keep the house clean and organized, the pantries stocked with donated food and supplies, the kids entertained, and the parents comfortable and a little less stressed out.  During my first few weeks there I learned two surprising things.
 
First, Ronald McDonald House does not serve burgers and fries for every meal.  Actually, dinner is made and served every night by volunteer groups from all over the Twin Cities, and the house kitchens are stocked with a variety of nutritious foods for other meals.  Who knew? 

Second, the one thing a kid with a major pediatric illnesses needs (besides treatment) is to just be a normal kid, as normal as possible under the circumstances, and so do their brothers and sisters.

The parents at the house appreciate having a place to stay that allows them to keep their families together while a child receives treatment from a hospital far away from their home, but what the kids really appreciate is Go-Cart Night, Wii Night, Movie night, horsing around in the gym, and dressing up for Halloween. 

These kinds of normal, everyday activities are critical to maintaining the morale of young patients and their young siblings while the whole family works together to fight the illness.

Another important way that a kid can “just be a kid” is to go to summer camp.  You would think that an ordinary summer camp experience is impractical for a kid who needs ongoing medical supervision and treatment.  You would think that an ordinary camp is financially out of reach for siblings in a family whose resources are totally consumed by medical expenses.  I would have thought so, too, until I heard about Chai Lifeline and its flagship programs, Camp Simcha and Camp Simcha Special. 

Camp Simcha is one of the only camps that can accommodate children in active cancer treatment; camp physicians administer chemotherapy in camp. Camp Simcha Special is the only camp capable of managing more than 65 disparate medical diagnoses.  Like all Chai Lifeline programs, both camps are free of charge to families, and this makes donor support all the more important.

I’m running the Las Vegas Marathon because I’ve seen first-hand how something as normal as summer camp can be at once critically important and seemingly out of reach for familities dealing with major pediatric illness. 

I believe in Chai Lifeline and what they are doing.  I believe in it so strongly that I’m going to run 26.2 miles to promote their cause, and I’m going to tell as many people and send as many emails as it takes to reach my fundraising goal of $3,600 by Chai Lifeline’s deadline of November 30, 2008.

The good news is, I’m 42% of the way there.  So far I have raised $1,503 from 22 sponsors.  If you translate that into a marathon distance, it’s like I’ve already run 11 miles of the total 26.2, and let me tell you, 11 miles is no mean feat.  I am honored and humbled by all the support I’ve gotten so far, but to get the rest of the way, I’m going to need your help.

I know times are tough.  I know $2,097 is a lot to raise in just 17 days.  But I also know it’s worth a shot for the sake of these kids, and I know I can do it with your help.

Remember that your sponsorship of me is 100% tax-deductible, and out of every dollar they donate, fully 83 cents goes straight to Chai Lifeline programs, with the remaining 17 cents going to race registration and administration, which raises awareness of Chai Lifeline on race day in Vegas and in all the communities we runners are coming from.  A friend of mine who works with a lot of charities tells me that a 17% cost of fundraising is extraordinarily efficient in the not-profit world.

To get more information about Chai Lifeline and to donate online, please click this link:
 
http://www.teamlifeline.org/mypage.php?myid=55555

If you’re considering sponsoring me, please do it today.  Many people have told me that they intend to sponsor me — if you already have, thank you — but time is running out, and I have to get all donations to Chai Lifeline by November 30th for it to count toward my goal.
 
Finally, please help me spread the word.  Take a few moments to link to this post on your own site or to email a link  to anyone you know who might feel moved to help Chai Lifeline, who likes the vicarious runner’s high of sponsoring a marathon, or who just needs a tax deduction this year.  Two of my sponsors are people I’ve never met before, meaning there are already those among you who believe in me and Chai Lifeline enough to share this opportunity with others.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for considering sponsoring me as I run in Las Vegas for Chai Lifeline.  I know I can cross the finish line with your help.

I took the GRE last Friday.  I think I did OK, but I’m reserving judgment until I get the score report with percentile rankings and my analytical writing score.  I totally nailed the verbal section, and I think I made a fair show of the essay section, but I choked on the math section – got bogged down on some early problems and didn’t have time at the end — which bugs me because I’m really good at math.  In fact, I didn’t practice for the math section because on my first diagnostic test, I got a perfect score.  Whatevs.  I’ll retake it if the rabbis tell me to.

Yesterday I finished the first draft of all the essays for one of the schools I’m applying to.  This was doubtless the hardest part of the application process, and with the first batch out of the way, I should be primed for the rest.  I celebrated this victory with a couple of glasses of my Hefe-Wit (hefeweizen brewed with orange peel, coriander, and ginger), which has turned out smashingly, thank you for asking.

I’ve given recommendation forms to 2 of the 3-4 people I’ll need recommedations from.

 Today I mailed transcript request forms to 2 of the 3 schools I need transcripts from.  I already have a sealed transcript copies from the remaining school and will forward them with my applications.

Left to do: More essays, a couple more more recommendation requests, and the application forms themselves.  I’m shooting to get it all done by Thanksgiving, so that I can be thankful that I’m done with my rabbinical school applications and concentrate on the marathon coming up in (gasp) just over 3 weeks.