#422: Will You Bet On Pennsy?

When I ask for your money, I know I'm asking a lot. This year, I'm putting myself on the line to win your support. I'm going to try to smash my personal best in the Marathon.

Last spring, I asked a group of people to support me as I returned to my home town to run my first Marathon. I completed the Pittsburgh Marathon just two years after being diagnosed with the cancer that almost killed me. Family, friends, neighbors, and strangers rose to the challenge, and contributed $3685 to support LIVESTRONG® at the YMCA, a 12 week program that helps cancer survivors to use exercise, nutrition, and community to reclaim their lives after being diagnosed with this life threatening illness.

First as a participant, and now as a coach, I've had the chance to watch that money being spent. Our efforts last year paid for free memberships for 10 survivors and their families so they could travel together on their journey toward strength and wellness.

We did that together. This year, I’m challenging you to do even more.

BET A BUCK A MINUTE

In Pittsburgh, I finished the 26.2 miles in 06:21:53. Since then, I’ve been training to get stronger, tougher, and faster. I think I can beat my old time, and I’ll be trying to finish the Flying Pig Marathon in Cincinnati on May 5 in less than 05:21:00. That would be a near miracle, but then, miracles are sort of my business these days.Here’s my challenge to you:

I’m asking you to pledge a dollar for every minute I take off of my time in the Marathon. That’s $60 for an hour improvement.

HERE’S ALL YOU NEED TO DO

Drop me an email to let me know you’re ready to bet a buck a minute on me. Once the race is finished, I’ll let you know my official time, and you can make your contribution by mail, or online at my website: http://www.crowdrise.com/lsy2013/fundraiser/Pennsy.

We’re going to do such great things together. Ladies and Gentlemen, place your bets!

Peace,

Pennsy

Make checks payable to "YMCA" and mail to:

Robert Parks Johnson

Living Strong at the Y 2013

North Lexington Family YMCA

381 West Loudon Ave

Lexington KY 40508

#418 Living Strong at the Y 2013

March 8, 2013

Last year, thanks to the love and support of family, friends, and neighbors from all over the country, you and I came together to raise $3685 to support LIVESTRONG at the YMCA: a 12-week program that helps cancer survivors to become cancer victors through exercise, nutritional education, and fellowship with one another. The program includes a three-month family membership to the Y at no charge to the participants. To put it in practical terms: our contributions payed for 10 participants and their families to experience the same program that helped me make the journey from cancer patient to finisher at the 2012 Pittsburgh Marathon last May.

I’m asking for your help again, and this time we have a much bigger plan in mind.

Instead of targeting just one event, we’re assembling a team of cancer survivors who will be running all spring long, starting tomorrow at the Railrunner 10 Miler in Nicholasville KY, and finishing in May at the Flying Pig Marathon in Cincinnati. We are runners who have all known what it means to hear the words, “You have cancer,” and chosen to fight for our lives. I am proud to be training and running right beside them.

Thanks to the grace of God, the love of my friends and family, and the skill of my doctors, I have been able to survive my fight with cancer. I have dedicated my life to helping other survivors to fight their own battles. As a trainer at the North Lexington Family YMCA, I see their courage and will every single day. Since I was a participant in Central Kentucky’s pilot program of LIVESTRONG at the YMCA back in 2011, I have worked with over 100 survivors. There are many more who will need our help in the coming years.

Please join me with a contribution so that tomorrow’s cancer fighters can know what so many of us have learned the hard way: Cancer can kill us, but it can never defeat us if we choose to Live Strong.

Peace,

Bob Johnson
859 420-9327

Please click this link to donate to Living Strong at the YMCA, or mail your tax deductible contribution to:

Robert Parks Johnson
Living Strong at the Y 2013
North Lexington Family YMCA
381 West Loudon Ave
Lexington KY 40508

#407: 2012 Pittsburgh Marathon

A friend asked me, "How long does it take to train for a marathon?" I didn't hesitate. "51 years." This race report could be a novel, but I'll try to spare you that. Still, there's a lot to say.


ANTICI..... PATION


The 7 days before the marathon were verrrry long. Once the calender said "7 days," my obsession kicked into high gear. I wore shoes all the time so I wouldn't stub my toes. I questioned every bite of food. I saw myself running every time I closed my eyes. I promoted my fundraiser relentlessly. Monday night, I ran with the Run This Town kids from the Y and we did speed work: exactly what I should not have been doing the week before a marathon. That night, I lay in bed fretting over my sore quads. Had I hurt myself? Had I burned up too much energy? Would I recover in time for the race? 

By Wednesday, I was stone crazy. After a couple of hours of checking the clock, I got up at 4:30 and wrote out my agenda for the race weekend. Travel time. Sightseeing with Mrs P. Time at the race expo. Rest days. Race day. Then I wrote my packing list. Race clothes. Spare clothes. Street clothes.By the time I went to work, I was packed and ready to go. I ran 4 easy miles on the Legacy Trail to work off some nerves, then did my shift at the desk at the Y. Our LIVESTRONG at the YMCA class was particularly sweet that night. We had a good workout, then during stretch and reflect time, everyone wished me good luck. Rehearsal that night was long, but productive. Our directrix, the Mad Russian told me to win my marathon, and I assured her that I intended to do so.


Thursday was travel day. Mrs P packed and told me when she was finished so I could load the bags into the car. On the way out of town, I stopped to say goodbye to the gang at the Y, and to add my brother PP to our membership. He had driven up from Florida to watch the dogs, and wanted a place to exercise while he was in town. The lunchroom gang all wished me well, and I insisted on a big hug from Coach Melissa. Then we were off. The drive was lovely. Not even the great flat plains of central Ohio could dampen my spirits. We arrived at Mum's house just after dark, only to discover that I had packed everything except our suitcase. I had all my race clothes and spare gear. Nothing else. We added trips to Walmart and Goodwill to our itinerary...

Which way to the wharf?

Ran a marathon and all I got...

Friday morning, Mrs P and I drove the 2 hours to Pittsburgh in about 1:30. I got completely lost trying to find the entrance to the Monongahela parking wharf, and we wound up on the North Side, two rivers away, in the shadow of Heinz Field. A friendly waitress at a street cafe (something unheard of during the sooty days of my childhood in Pittsburgh) gave us directions, and we parked by the river. We explored the streets where my starting corral would be, and traced the route to the starting line. Hiked to the convention center to pick up my bib (number 4952), my race shirt, and my swag bag. The expo was a big trade show with booths representing gear manufacturers, retailers, charities associated with the race, and runner services. I spent as little money as possible, and we headed back home, stopping on Liberty avenue for a slice of the best pizza either of us had tasted since we moved from Brooklyn. That night, we bought some clothes at Goodwill in New Bethlehem, and underwear at the Walmart in Clarion. 

That's a runner's leg?

Love all up and down my arms

The girls over my heart

The Strong Eight

 Saturday, we relaxed on Mum's porch. Mrs P got out the Sharpies and wrote the names of all my sponsors on my arms, legs, and chest. My sister B came down to the house with a $20 bill and said she wanted to write her own name. "I want to write it on your butt," she joked. I was too tired to resist, and dropped trou right there on the porch. "Now I'll be riding your ass the whole way." Then it was time to go to bed. I did my final gear check, then turned out the lights, only to wake up every hour until 3:30 when the alarm sounded. 

One more for the 5

What I won't do for 20 bucks

 

Race day started with a toasted bagel and strawberry jelly. I didn't think my stomach would tolerate coffee, so I drank a couple of bottles of water. Checked the numbers on the fundraiser. Took in the love from my friends on Facebook. Rubbed on Mum's poodle, Cujo for a while. Then it was time to wake Mrs P, collect B, and hit the road. They slept while I drove the dark country roads under a gigantic full moon. It was so bright, it looked like the sun was about to come up. We twisted and turned through the night and I did my best to think about anything but the race. Fat chance. In the city, I took the wrong ramp off the Veterans Bridge, and we somehow wound up on top of Mt Washington, across the river from town and our parking spot. B managed to get me back, and we finally parked on the wharf. We walked along the river for a while, then climbed the old, concrete steps to Stanwix street.


MARATHON

Anybody got a light?

What's it like to line up with 25,000 runners? It isn't like anything at all. We walked up to Gateway Center, where the crowd curved around the bend toward the starting line. B wondered if there had ever been this many non-smokers downtown before. I could tell she was jonesing for one, but suspected she might have been beaten to death if she had tried to light up. Back at corral "E" where I would be starting, we found my pace group. I was shooting for 11:30/mile. I turned back and realized that there were about 40 runners behind me. I didn't bother doing the math. I was at the back of the biggest pack I had ever seen. Mrs P put her hand on my chest and confirmed what I felt: my heart was pounding. Just before the gun, we hugged and kissed and they left me to hop and stretch in the street. At 7:30 there was a great cheer, and the throng started shuffling toward the starting line. The race had begun.

Only 24,960 runners to beat

I had occasional running partners, curious about the names scrawled all over me, or the "Survivor" tag the folks at the LIVESTRONG booth had given me to wear. There were the people encouraging us through every neighborhood with water, fruit slices, and cowbells. We crossed the Allegheny three times, then went down the North Side to the West End Bridge over the Ohio. I was feeling great as we started up Carson Street, the main drag through the South Side: my family's first home when Gramma Johnson's parents brought her here from Ukraine in 1904. As we approached the Birmingham bridge and the 11 mile mark, I felt strong and confident. I had trained hard and was ready to begin the 5 mile climb to the Frick mansion in Shadyside. 


Wrong.

Uhhh... Keeneland's hills look nothing like this

I thought there were hills in the Bluegrass. I really did. They felt like hills to me. They were not hills. THIS was a hill. My form broke down quickly. My head dipped, my shoulders fell forward, and my upper back started to ache. Walk breaks became longer and more frequent. People on the side of the road would clap and encourage me, then ask if I was OK. Starting around mile 15, every step I took involved a cramp in my upper calves. Over and over I wanted to stop. Over and over I told myself aloud "Just keep moving." I stretched my neck up, trying to run tall. The angle of the climb was torture on my calves and hamstrings. The dreaded sweep bus pulled up beside me the first of many times and a ghoulish Samaritan stuck his head out the front window. "You want a ride?" I would rather have finished on bloody stumps than to get on that bus. I smiled, clenched my fists, and waved him on again and again. My heart and lungs were strong, but my muscles were failing me. I couldn't believe a person could hurt so much in so many places at once. Again and again, I looked down at the sweat smeared names written on my legs and arms. Donors. Lost loved ones. Fellow cancer fighters. They were the ones who got me through. There was no way I could have stayed off that bus on my own.

The dreaded "Sweep Bus"

Marathon: Robert Parks Johnson - FINISH in 6:21:53. Pace: 14:34. At 14:14:03.

In the shadow of the Pittsburgh Post Gazette,
 where my father, uncle and grandfather worked

Mrs P and B had managed to sneak into the VIP grandstands. It wasn't too hard, since the winners had finished over 4 hours earlier. I saw them cheering and snapping pictures just as I passed and their smiles gave me the last boost I needed to run across the finish line. A lady handed me my medal. Two young girls doused me with water. I staggered to a photo area where a man snapped my picture and handed me a business card. I guzzled Gatorade and water and grabbed a banana before wandering to a bench at the entrance of Point Park and prayed that the girls would somehow stumble across me. We embraced. "We did it," I said to Mrs P. "YOU did it," she corrected me. "WE did it," I insisted. "We kicked cancer's ass." My sister looked at the two of us and said, "You sure did." "We did it," I repeated. "F**k cancer."

WE did it

Polly, Marmaduke, and Mrs P

Riding back to Mum's was agony. My legs were seized with little cramps from my ankles to my hips. My seat was tipped all the way back and I slept most of the way, waking up from time to time as one spasm or another stabbed me. Mrs P sat in the back seat petting my head. B drove, singing along to country music on the radio. "When did my sister turn into a redneck?" I wondered sleepily. At Mums, the family greeted us. Hugs and congratulations all around. We ate something, I don't remember what. We opened a case of Iron City Beer and I drank three or four while kids and dogs played in the yard. I had stretched and used my foam roller as soon as we got home, and now I sat on the chaise lounge, my legs punishing me every time I tried to move them. My medal was still hanging around my neck. I looked around and thought to myself, "This just might be the happiest day of my life."

Mrs P and me before the race

My niece and a buddy

Nobody loves you like your little sister

The next morning, I checked my fundraiser page. $3490. I still have a few pledges coming in, so we'll be rounding that up a little. 


WHAT HAVE WE LEARNED?

Survivor? Damn right, I am

• The Pittsburgh was a very reckless choice for a first marathon.
• I need to spend a lot more time building up my core and leg strength.
• I want to be several pounds lighter before I take on my next 26.2.
• A four week taper might be just a little too long.
• I missed a lot of early walk breaks, and need a louder alarm so I can hear it in heavy traffic.
• I need a lot more speed and hill work if I'm going to enjoy my next big race.
• I have the best, most supportive, loving friends and family in the universe.
• God is great.
• Cancer is a wussy.
• There really is no place like home.
• I am a by-God marathoner.

My God, what a great day for a run.


Peace,
Pennsy


Oh by the way, Living Strong at the Y will be accepting donations until Sunday, May 13. You know, just in case you were waiting to see if I would actually do it! 

#404: Please Give to Living Strong at the Y

This is the text of a letter I'm sending to friends and family, asking them to help a fundraising effort that I care deeply about. I hope you will add your contribution to theirs and be a part of the team.

LIVESTRONG at the YMCA is turning cancer patients into cancer victors every day. Every one of them has their own story. They might not look it, but they’re the toughest people I’ve ever met.

When they told him he had prostate cancer, he wondered if he would live; if he would ever make love again; if he could ever be a man; if he could be a father to his little girl. Now he’s teaching her to swim.

Sometimes, her breasts hurt so badly when she tried to exercise that she wanted to cry - until the day they asked her to name an achievement she was proud of: “I didn’t let the pain stop me today.”

She’s had cancer three times. She can’t afford the insurance that they offer her. She gets depressed sometimes when she thinks about what will happen if it comes back again. So she’s taking classes to become a personal trainer, so she can help other cancer survivors.

She could barely run 100 yards when they asked her what her dream was and she answered, “I’m almost embarrassed to say it out loud; I want to run a half marathon.” Seven months later, she did it: all 13.1 miles of it. On the back of her shirt she had written, “I run for those who can’t.”

The only thing harder than finding out he had cancer was finding out that his wife had it too. They fought it together. They beat it together. They come to the gym where he complains about every rep and never skips a single one, while she grinds out miles on the bike like a bulldog. Everyone who sees them knows that they are survivors, fighters, and victors.

Thanks to LIVESTRONG at the YMCA, they are learning to fight for their lives. They lift weights and run and swim and practice yoga, Pilates, and Zumba. They learn about nutrition. They meet and come to love others who are fighting the same battle. I know, because I’m one of them.

On April 16, 2010, the doctors found a three inch tumor in my neck. It had spread to my lymph nodes and left me with a 50% chance of survival. I had to choose whether to die or to fight. I decided to fight. I wanted to grow old with my wife. I wanted to act on stage again. And I wanted to run.

                                                         

This May 6^th, I’m returning to the city where I was born and I’m running the Pittsburgh Marathon. You only get one chance to run your first marathon, and I’m doing mine for them. I’m raising money to support LIVESTRONG at the YMCA: the program that taught me to fight. We need to raise about $13,000 to run that program at my YMCA this year. You and I can make that happen.

Please join me. Go to www.pennsyrunning.blogspot.com to learn more about my battle. Click the link to “Living Strong at the Y”. Or use the enclosed envelope to mail a check made out to the YMCA to:

Robert Parks Johnson

North Lexington Family YMCA

381 West Loudon Avenue

Lexington KY, 40508

Attention: Living Strong

Give for the fighters; for the victors; for the ones who know they are going to die, and the ones who don’t even know they have cancer yet.

Because cancer can kill us, but it can never beat us: not if we LIVESTRONG.

Peace,

Robert Parks Johnson

Cancer Fighter

394:Living Strong at the YMCA

This is a fundraising appeal I have sent out to just about everyone I know. I hope you will read it, contribute, and share it with your friends online. Thanks, Pennsy.

You and I have done some remarkable things together over the years. We've raised thousands of dollars for some marvelous causes, but this project, called Living Strong at the Y is very special.

On May 6^th,2012, almost exactly 2 years after the doctors told me I had cancer, I am returning to the city where I was born to run 26.2 miles in the Pittsburgh Marathon. That’s something I would never have dreamed of doing before I had was sick. Now, I can’t imagine not doing it.

Will you help to sponsor my run by making a contribution to Living Strong at the Y? All funds will support LIVESTRONG at the YMCA, a life changing program that helps cancer survivors like me to reclaim our lives. A group of 8-10 participants gets free, 12 week family memberships to the Y, then works with a team of trainers, instructors, and nutritionists to learn how fitness and exercise can help them recover from cancer and cancer treatment. It isn't make-believe, "dumbed-down" exercise class for victims to occupy their time. This is serious training for people who have faced cancer and chosen to fight for their lives.

It’s going to cost around $13,000 to run the program at the North Lexington Y this year. The YMCA doesn't charge survivors a penny to be in the program. The LIVESTRONG Foundation pays many of the initial instructor training costs, but after the first year, each YMCA is responsible for its own funding.

You can donate online at http://www.crowdrise.com/pennsyyckyor if you prefer, you can mail a check made out to “YMCA” directly to me at:

Robert Parks Johnson

North Lexington Family YMCA

381 West Louden Ave

Lexington KY 40508

Just write “Living Strong” on the memo line.

The next generation of cancer warriors needs our support. You can be there beside them, by making a tax deductible contribution. I’ll be in the gym working as a trainer, making sure that your money goes where it’s supposed to go: helping to turn patients into survivors, and survivors into fighters.

Keep Living Strong!

Pennsy

#376: You Only Get One Chance at your First Marathon

Pennsyltucky dreaming...

I now have 26.2 reasons to look forward to the new year. I sent the money in, and I’m registered to run the Pittsburgh Marathon on May 6. It is a long way, but then, so was 13.1. And 6.2. And 3.1. I thought 1.8 was going to kill me. And then there was that morning I had to stop and rest after crossing the street. A full marathon is a long way. But I know I can run one step. I’ll just keep doing that. Am I nervous? Yeah. Do I have a plan? Also, yeah.

I’m using a program from Galloway TrainingPrograms. It’s designed to prepare a first-timer to finish the race without injury and without swearing to never run another one. No speed records. No near-death experiences. No puking. After all, since it’s my first, no matter what time I get is going to be a personal best.

I’m doing two training runs a week to build strength and maintain conditioning, with a Long Slow Run (LSR) on the weekends. That will give my old joints plenty of time to recover between workouts. On Monday and Wednesday, I’ll be cross-training (XT). XT is the work you do because you’re too crazy to take a day off, but you don’t want to kill yourself. At least that’s how I understand it.

I have a lot of options for XT: weight lifting, circuit training, swimming, spinning, body-weight training, Pilates, TRX. I intend to mix them up to keep things interesting. I have three goals in cross-training.

1.      Continue building my endurance. Nothing matters more in long distance running. It doesn’t matter how fast you can run if you can’t keep going all the way to the end.

2.      Build core strength. Not just my abs. The skin around my belly is so stretched out, I don’t ever expect to see a six-pack, but I do need a strong center. That includes the whole abdominal girdle, stomach, sides, butt, and lower back. It’s important to give the running muscles a recovery day, so I won’t be doing so much leg work while I’m training for the race.

3.      Dump some ballast. I want to get my weight down about 15 pounds. When I’m climbing up that hill to Oakland, I don’t want to carry more than I have to.

4.      Get pretty. This is my vanity goal. I want to look better in a tee-shirt. I tend to overlook bench presses and curls and such movements because they’re so isolated. I’m going to take the opportunity to focus more on my upper body: arms, shoulders, chest, and back. I confess, there is a macho man hiding inside me, longing to come out and kick sand in cancer’s face.

I also have the Run the BluegrassHalf-Marathon tucked into my calendar on March 31. That fits nicely into my schedule as a tune-up for the big one. There’s also something poetic about running races in Kentucky and Pennsylvania this spring that warms my Pennsyltucky heart.

I’m planning a major fundraiser to go along with this race. I’ll have more to tell you about that later. I’ll only get one chance to run my first marathon, and I want to make the most of it. As always, FMR will be a big part of that journey.

I look forward to traveling with you.

Peace,

Pennsy

#369:Together, We Are Stronger Than Cancer!

Zumba is stronger than cancer

TOGETHER, WE ARE STRONGER THAN CANCER!

Believe it. One for the Five has grown bigger than any of us could have imagined. With 13 days to go before the Iron Horse Half Marathon, we have raised $2910. Cancer has hurt all of us at one time or another. Now we're returning the favor.

Chillin' in the Jacuzzi with some hot survivors

Fifty-four households have joined the effort. They contribute to honor the Five, or to give thanks for recovery, or to remember their own loved ones who fought cancer, whatever the outcome. Each one gives what they can afford, for their own reasons. Some give a few dollars. Some give hundreds. But all have made the choice to join the fight. Together, we can do so much.

Together, we are stronger than cancer.

I am so grateful to those of you who have joined our team. I don't want anyone to miss the chance to feel the prideI feel every time I read that list of names.

Together, we can lift each other

Less than two weeks left till the race. My training is going great. My legs are ready, and my heart is strong because I'm carrying all of you with me.

It's a great day. Will you spend part of it helping to support our mission to give hope to cancer fighters everywhere?

We can do it, because TOGETHER, WE ARE STRONGER THAN CANCER!

Believe it.

Peace,

                                                 

Bob

You can contribute by clicking this link http://www.crowdrise.com/fatmanrunning and using your debit or credit card to make an online contribution. Or if you'd rather, drop me an email at pennsyltuckian@gmail.com and I'll send you my address so you can mail me a check. Some folks have even handed me cash. Heck, I'll come to you if you want :-) ... Pennsy