How it Went - My #BostonMarathon2016 Recap

All these weeks and months of training and preparation, I was feeling so good, so ready, so strong and so fast. I was prepared for my best run ever, even holding out the possibility of a personal best time - faster than what I'd pulled off fourteen years ago. I was ready to finish the day feeling exhilarated, powerful, time- and age-defying-ly fast, ready to return again in 2017, for the first time ever, as a Boston qualifier.

In the end, I had an amazing experience.

But also a very different experience than the one I'd picture in my head.

By the time I crossed that finish line on Boylston Street, my heart is full. Between miles 21 and the finish it just about burst. And, instead of power and speed, it was humility and humanity and my limits and pain, and me barely holding it together at multiple points, and just one foot in front of another, and another. And then it was over.

The day came together something like this:

All week, I had been so keyed up for this race, I wasn't sleeping well.  Race day was no exception. Awake for good by three something. Lay there until 4:30 AM. Then just got up.

In the spirit of gratitude, I'd just written about here on this blog and knew would go live just as my race began, I wrote a pair of thank you notes for a pair of Dream Big! gifts that came in at the 11th hour, propelling me beyond the $10,000 mark - and with more still trickling in.

I checked my messages and found a word of encouragement from a friend and running partner, including this quote by Harold Whaley:

"Just do your best, it is all you can do.  Don't ask how, just begin and do it now. The world waits for you"

The perfect word for the day.

Coffee. Breakfast, and unhurried, cheerful time with my family over the next few hours. Final preparations and gathering of gear. And a little before 8, they all walked and ran and sang me down the hill towards the T.

Clear blue skies. Sun shining. A beautiful day for a Marathon.

On the Orange Line, it was easy to pick out the other runners. I sat across from a woman from New York, running Boston for her fourth time. More joined at each stop, until we all spilled out at the Chinatown stop and, a block away, joined the masses queuing for buses at Boston Common. A scene to make one think everyone in the city was a marathoner. Wave after wave after wave of yellow school buses. They pulled up two abreast, twenty rows back. Each filled up with giddy runners, then pulled away. Replaced by a new wave. And on again.

And off we went, in a grand caravan, police officers waving us by at every intersection, people waving at us and us waving back, cars honking - so much joy directed our way and beaming from inside each bus, as we pulled onto the Mass Pike and pointed West towards Hopkinton.

"Don't look out the window from the bus," our coach had quipped, "You'll get a sense of how far 26.2 miles really is."

And the ride did feel long. But soon enough we pulled into the parking lot of Hopkinton High and spilled out into the Athletes Village. Already the temperature was rising to where I dumped my $1 winter coat from Boomerangs in JP - though I kept my Edgartown Yacht Club INSTRUCTOR pants on until I found my way through the throngs into our (what a gift!) charity VIP indoor staging area at the Brown Gymnasium - the private cluster of porta-potties reserved just for us the most treasured luxury, as the great masses queued up 15-20 deep out on the flaying fields behind the school.

A team photo. Some stretching. Vaseline under arms and between legs against the chaffing miles ahead. Pre-race snacking. Sipping water and Powerade.

One of the volunteers working the gym stopped by to advise us that, given the rising heat outside (already in the 70s) with no cloud cover, and only very limited tree cover (still early early spring in Boston), to be sure to drink Gatorade along the way, to keep our electrolytes up. With water only, they'd flush right through us and we'd cramp bad. I hadn't planned to drink any - I can't really stand the sticky stuff mid-race, but thought, OK, maybe a few sips every once in a while.

Then, at 10:30, it was time for the charity wave to queue up, which we did first at the edge of the Athletes Village, and then again, after a 1/4 mile walk, at the start.  I sucked down a sticky-sweet, chocolaty goo for a last jolt of energy before we got going, and shimmied my way as close to the rope at the front of our corral as I could get.

I noticed that, even though I'd guzzled that whole Powerade and bottle of water, my mouth already felt dry.

Counting down to the start, I took note of the thick crowds ahead of me in the three earlier corrals of my wave. The runner next to me looked fast, like a veteran. Turned out he was. Expect to take 3-4 miles to clear through the traffic and run your own pace, he advised. Ready to go fast, to run the race of my life, I couldn't quite accept that, and didn't.

When the Go! call finally came, I snaked my way up the edge to the left, as advised by a running friend and experienced Boston Marathon runner. Then I dodged and weaved, and occasionally jumped up on a sidewalk. And though that was all counter to the sage advice of our coach, by a mile or so in, I had cleared through most of the traffic and settled in to what felt like my pace. Not pushing too hard. Focused on cadence. Soaking in the scene.

At the 5K mark, we crossed the first chip-reading sensor, sending data on our progress immediately to all those following us via text or the app or the website. I thought of all those I'm running for, and those I knew would be tracking me, and said, "Hello everybody."

I learned later, I'd run that first 5K in sub-7 minute pace; 25/seconds a mile faster than my personal best marathon pace. I didn't feel as if I were pushing it. Felt really comfortable and, in my mind, as if I was even heeding our coach's advice to hold back at the start.

Those next few miles were great. A total blast. The crowds weren't thick that early in the race, but present and full of encouragements. Kids reaching out their hands for high fives. "This way to Boston?" I asked now and then to one of them who caught my eye. "That's right!" they said, "You're headed the right way."

"You got this, Dream Big!" many shouted for me.

I danced as I ran to music blaring along the sidelines.

I saw a first familiar face around mile 12 - a colleague at a front yard BBQ. He shouted my name and ran with me for 50 yards (beer in hand). "You're doing great," he said, "Fast!" And I felt it. And a jolt of adrenaline from from his company and good cheer.

Then into the woods and towards the roar of the famous Wellesley College Scream Tunnel, where I resisted the many offers of kisses and proposals of marriage, and wondered what, if anything, was behind that sign held by the bare-shouldered, bare-legged coeds that read, "If you run fast enough, we'll drop this sign!"

"Dream Big!" yelled one of them. "You were in my big dream last night!"

Then further into the woods.

Near the half-marathon mark, I spotted Linda Driscoll, Founder and ED of Dream Big! and mugged for this photo. Me in my yellow, Wave 4 bib, now deep into the Wave 3 blues.  Feeling great.

In the miles ahead, as we rolled along the relative flats before plunging down into Newton Lower Falls, the headwinds really picked up.  At the water stations, the discarded cups chased and bounded and raced past us in the breeze.

"I tackled all the Kenyans," said one poster, "You still have a chance!"

"Beer 10.5 miles, right this way." said another.

"Stefan Lanfer!" called a grad school friend from amidst the crowd. Another jolt of cheer and energy.

Climbing up out of Newton Lower Falls for a first long ascent to Newton-Wellesley Hospital.  My legs started feeling a little tight. But then I spied the firehouse and recalled our coach's words - "Where you turn towards home."

That's also where we turned to the famous Newton Hills.

I ran through the water spray tunnel outside the firehouse and raised my arms high above my head to psych myself up for that first big hill.

A cry of "Dream Big! Go Stefan!" from the left-hand side. And I turned to spot one of my wife's teammates.

Brought a smile to my face and jolt of energy for my legs.

But as I crested that first hill and started downwards, all of a sudden, something was decidedly off.  My right hamstring seized up - and had me hopping for a few momentum strides, until I slowed to a walk, and kept walking to stretch it out and let it calm down enough that I could shuffle onward. Like an old lady on a frozen lake, I thought.

Come on, old lady, let's go.

Not long after, I heard "STEFAN LANFER!" and turned to see another colleague and his whole cheering family. I waved and smiled and gave a thumbs up and kept going.

I had no idea what my time was at that point. But I knew my various power- and strength- and speed-goals were slipping away, and that a different test of endurance was taking shape. Now, I just wanted to get to the finish.

I  started walking through every water stop, and gulping down a whole cup of Gatorade at each one.

Down the hill by the BC reservoir, and a left turn onto Beacon St., into a stretch where I expected to see the greatest number of friends and family and more colleagues and the biggest most boisterous crowds of the whole course.

To be honest, I had imagined that, at that point, they'd see me and think, "Wow! He barely looks like he's working at all! How effortless. How fast."

I knew then they'd see a very different version of me.  They'd see me and think, "Ouch."

That's when I spotted the sign, "When your legs give out, run with your HEART!"

I don't know what it was about that sign. But it so spoke to where I was at that very moment. And I was overcome. I started crying. And shuffled on.

More colleagues spotted me and shouted for me near Coolidge Corner. Another jolt of gladness that checked the emotional and physical overwhelm.

Then I passed a whole crowd of Jamaica Plain running friends and their families.  I knew they knew how rough I looked, how much slower than planned I was going, how I was crashing. But their cheers and smiles made me smile, brightened my spirit, spurred me onwards.

And then I passed the temple in Brookline where, in 2010, while watching the marathon, Ashley and I went in to participate in a donor drive for Leukemia. A picture of a smiling young baby on a poster out front, with some version of, "Please, help save me!"lured us in. Our oldest two children were 3 and 1 at the time at the time, and we thought, "If that were our child, we'd be praying for people like us to stop in."

A year later, in 2011, my college roommate, a father of three, died only days after being diagnosed with Acute Leukemia.

Three weeks ago, I got a call of the Gift of Life Donor registry that I'd been identified as a possible match for a 37 year old man suffering from the same disease.  The next week I went into Mass General for a series of blood tests to find out whether I am or not.

Passing that Brookline temple again, I lost it again, was completely overtaken by emotion - and still was, a quarter mile later when I spotted my family with their homemade Go Daddy! signs and bright pink Dream Big! t-shirts.

Just get to them, I had been telling myself for miles and miles. They'll get you to the finish.

I stopped to hug each one of them.

"I'm hurting real bad," I said through tears to Ashley.

Then kept going.

Up that last real hill on the overpass by Fenway Park. Mile 25.

Down into Kendall Square.

Across the "Last Mile to Go" sign freshly painted on Beacon Street.

Under the Storrow Drive exit overpass painted blue with yellow letters reading, "Boston Strong!"

Down the underpass under Mass Ave.

Up again and right on Hereford.

That banner again.

Gratitude.

I held my arms above my head for whatever jolt of adrenaline and testosterone I could muster from that power pose.

Left on Boylston.

And there was the finish - 1/4 mile away.

I raised my arms above my head again, held them there for a count of twenty, then brought them down slowly, holding them straight out to my sides like I was flying.

And I was,

sort of

(not really).

Shuffling on.

Then I raised them high again one last time.

And crossed the finish line.

And that

was

it.

A long journey finished.

Not the one I planned.

The one I got.

The one I'll always remember.

I wonder what will come next.

But for now, I am simply savoring every step of this journey.

A little sad that its over.

So thankful that it happened.

And to everyone who helped in ways uncountable along the way.

Running For, Powered By...

We closed out last week with our longest training run, and last long-run before Marathon Monday - capping my longest training week at just north of 51 miles.  Tired. But feeling good.Excitement and anticipation mounting.  

Early Saturday morning, the Dream Big! team and hundreds of other charity runners piled into busses and made our way to Hopkinton, to the actual start of the race course. Then we ran the first 21, all the way to the top of Heartbreak Hill.  Only 20 days and another 5.2 to the finish line on Boylston Street.

Now into the blessed tapering phase. Soon we'll all be obsessively checking race-day weather reports.

Stay tuned for more details on how and where to watch and/or track me and others online, on the course, and via text.

Here are a few of us mugging for the camera in our new Dream Big! race shirts at the starting line...

And here, as promised, the back of my race shirt, now emblazoned with the names of all the girls and women in whose honor folks have contributed to this collective effort for girls' sports - and the brothers and dads and sons who are also champions of the cause, and whose gifts and spirit are powering my run.  With thanks to each and every one of you...

Enough from Me. Take it from Them.

But enough from me about the power of girls' sports.

Take it from the Lady Tigers - a girls softball team in New York that Dream Big! has supported with donations of everything from softball bats, gloves and helmets, to batting cages and hitting machines.  But more than the chance to play, on the Lady Tigers, these girls find...

"My teammates our my sisters. My coach is my father."

Thank you for considering a gift for Dream Big! to advance their mission of empowering girls through sports.

10 Steps to Meeting That Marathon Charity Fundraising Goal

With only a few weeks until Marathon Monday, this is the #HeartBreakHill moment for many charity runners in their fundraising efforts. Time to find that second, or third, or fourth wind, to try something new, and to keep going.

Here are some ideas.

Having run a few marathons before, when I signed on to run and raise this year for Dream Big! and their mission of empowering girls through sports, I was far more intimidated by the prospect of the fundraising than by all the training miles ahead of me in the dark and cold of a Boston winter. I fully expected that goal to loom over me right until race day, and that making it across the finish line would include my credit card being charged to fill the gap between my goal and wherever I was at that point.

To my surprise, however, I ended up meeting my goal months ago. As I wrote in an earlier post here, I think my first fundraising mistake was to calibrate a goal based on what I thought I was capable of in terms of outreach and asking, rather than on the incredible generosity of friends, family, and colleagues that would be unleashed by the opportunity to advance the mission of this small nonprofit doing big things for girls, and to support me in my efforts on their behalf.

So, to the extent it's helpful for others still on the upward climb this year (and to help me remember if ever I take on the challenge again), here is everything I've done thus far. This is by no means a comprehensive list of all the tools in a fundraiser's toolkit. It's just what one novice tried one year. So, please feel free to suggest other strategies via the comments section below.  

And if you're a believer in the power of sports to impact girls, and reading this prompts a spirit of generosity in you, please consider a gift to encourage one of my Dream Big! team members still on the uphill slog towards their goal.

1. Give first. My first fundraising act was to make a gift myself. I didn't want to ask others to follow where I wasn't willing to lead.
2. Be social. After I set up my fundraising page, and made a gift myself, I Tweeted a link to it. And almost right away I got a donation from two folks in my network. Over time, these gifts proved more the exception than the rule. Most of my contributions were prompted by other means. Though social provides a great way to keep steady drumbeat about your efforts. I included a note about my fundraising efforts and link to my donor page on my Twitter profile (and would have used Facebook too, if I were on it.)
3. Blog. I created this blog as another tool to share about my fundraising and training effort, and for deeper reflections inspired by the mission of the organization I'm raising for. I started posting weekly, and always Tweeted out new entries - tagging Dream Big!, our coach, and/or others who inspired each post.
4. Make it about we, not me. Two of my colleagues are also running and raising this year for another charity. We organized a single email appeal to all of our colleagues at once.  I think this may have contributed to a sense that folks had a chance to support "our runners," "our team," not just me. Following the "give first" mantra, we each contributed to each other's efforts before sending the blast appeal. Most of the many who gave did so to all three of us.
5. Blast it (but don't just blast it). Other than that one group email, the only other blast email I sent to a large group all at once was via a Google Group I am on with 40 or so runners I train with in my neighborhood. As with social, while there were a few gifts prompted by those blasts alone, and while I think they are important as awareness builders, they shouldn't be counted on alone. In most cases, an actual gift followed a face-to-face conversation, or at the least a personal email (where they say, "Oh, yeah. I remember seeing something about that. Could you send it again?)
6. Make it personal. Given the cause I am running and raising for - empowering girls through sports - I knew that the mission was one that would resonate personally with many of my potential contributors, the same way it does for me as a dad of a powerful, sports-loving daughter. So, much of my personal outreach was directly to parents of girls. I also started offering up space on the back of my race shirt, which I am going to cover with the names of all of my contributors, and the girl and women athletes in whose honor they gave.
7. Put it in your email signature. I added a sentence to my personal email signature about the fact I was running and raising and why, and included links to my donor page and to this blog. This led to at least one unsolicited - though mostly, I think, is useful in the category of keeping up that steady drumbeat - and possibly of helping someone follow through on an intention prompted by some other means you've already used.
8. Leverage events. Some terrific friends of our were generous enough to host a party in their home to help me and another Dream Big! teammate in our fundraising efforts. Before the Evite went out, I sent individual emails to the 75+ folks on my list. Some came. But even more gave, prompted by that invitation.
9. Tell everyone. When folks say, "What's new?" tell them you're running and raising. Several folks - especially those who've ever raised themselves before - beat me to the ask when I did. "Be sure to hit me up," they'd say, knowing how hard it can be.
10. Say (and show) thanks. Possibly more important than any form of ask is what you do after the gift. I acknowledged most gifts by email. But I thanked all with a hand-written note. If it's worth your time to give, it's worth mine to take the time to say thank you. At an early point in our fundraising, I won a friendly competition among my Dream Big! teammates, and a gift card to the Adidas RunBase Marathon Museum and Store. I thought about buying myself some new gear for the big run, or using that card as enticement for more new donors.  I decided instead to raffle it off among those who'd helped me to that point. Glad I did.

Good luck all you charity fundraisers. You can do it!

Great Expectations

My mistake, I think, was setting a fundraising goal based on my best guess at what I could do in terms of outreach, creative awareness building, and asking for support.

I should have set a goal based on my best guess at the generosity that would be unleashed from friends, family, and colleagues for the cause of empowering girls through sports.

I never imagined I'd be here this early, but thanks to the overwhelming generosity of nearly everyone I asked - and some who just found out and contributed even before I asked, I hit my fundraising goal over this past weekend - three months ahead of race day.

Somewhere out there is a young woman very much like you, your daughter, your niece. But times are tight for her family. A lost job, scaled back hours, and they've dropped decidedly into low-income status. They may even face homelessness for a time.

She'd love to be active, to play sports and engage in physical activities with her friends. And her family would love for her to. Lately, however, they could only say, "We're so sorry, honey. Maybe next year."

But now, they're saying, "Go for it!" as Dream Big! is turning the $7,000 I pledged and have raised thus far into 150 pairs of new running shoes; or 70x tuition for an 8-week dance or other class; or 35 brand new bikes and helmets; or 14 registrations in a week-long summer sports camp; or uniforms, equipment, and coaching for 7 whole sports teams.

That's a lot of good.

Now, let's do more.

The only time I ever beat a marathon running goal was my very first effort. Crossing the finish line in a respectable time, but with gas still left in the tanks, I realized I had set my goal too slow - and I have failed to reach my goals ever since. I take that as indication of sufficiently aggressive goals; and also of flawed execution.  Yet  with smarter training, some terrific coaching via the Marathon Coalition, and a smarter race day plan, my confidence is growing on the execution piece of beating my running goal.

In the meantime, let's bury my initial fundraising goal, and over-deliver for Dream Big! and girls sports.

A Dream Big!-outfitted softball team

The Power of the "Near Win"

Nothing gets the competitive juices flowing quite like a second-place finish. That was one of my chief takeaways from reading The Rise by Sarah Lewis - a fascinating exploration of how so many of the world's greatest achievements are rooted in failure. The bronze medalist is just happy to have made the podium. The silver medalist, however, seethes with restless dissatisfaction for nearly winning, which often turns into unstoppable motivation to do more, to do better, to win. One of the prime examples of this dynamic was Jackie Joyner-Kersee, who in the 1984 Olympics in LA won the silver medal, losing out by just five points to Australian Glynis Nunn. Four years later, in Seoul, South Korea, Joyner-Kersee won gold in the same event, setting a world record (7,291 points) that still stands today. She also won gold, and set an Olympic record in the long jump (7.4 m). She was later voted by Sports Illustrated as the Greatest Female Athlete of the 20th Century. Here's a recap video of her in Seoul:



The other story that really stuck with me was of 23 year old Julie Moss in the 1982 Iron Man Triathlon. A total unknown, she came out of nowhere, surprising everyone - including herself - by being far ahead and on track for a win by the marathon portion of the race. But then, her stride started changing, something was wrong, and she collapsed to the road, in total exhaustion. She waved off spectators, who came to her to help her stand (it would have disqualified her if she let them). She tried standing a few times, and fell each time. Finally, she started crawling, hand over hand towards the finish. In the dark of that evening, with the TV screen trained on her, making her slow way forward, you can see the feet of the second-place runner overtaking her only a few yards from the finish line. An unbelievable picture of grit and determination. Millions tuned in to that race. And Moss is credited with being the catalyst for the explosive growth in her sport, especially, but not only, among women inspired by her example.

Here's her race:



In a small way, I had my own near win experience on my long training run this past weekend. In preparation for running Boston, I splurged on a GPS watch, and have enjoyed loading and tracking and studying my data on Strava - one feature of which is that it compares your performance not only to yourself (and I will have some future post on the Marathon Zen wisdom of "run your own race" - not here), but with others on various segments of your runs. A few months ago, after a run through the Stony Brook Reservation, in Boston's Hyde Park neighborhood, I came home to discover I'd run the 2nd fastest time on a 3/4 mile climb through the woods. It's been goading me ever since.  I tried again and closed the gap just before Thanksgiving - but still came in second. This weekend, I ran the segment twice. And beat the record the record twice. And got my first little Strava crown icon.

A little silly I know. But it called to mind again The Rise, and these amazing stories.

Somewhere out there is a girl who has never yet tapped the power within her of that "near win." The equipment and coaching fees that you and I would never hesitate to pay for our girls are simply too much for her parents to absorb. Times are just too tight.

This Holiday Season, would you give to Dream Big! so she can play?

Running "Like an Old Lady on a Frozen Lake"

The marathon - especially Boston - is so riddled with meaning and metaphors. The most prominent of which is probably, "Life's a marathon, not a sprint."

I got a new one on Saturday, at the first charity team group training run of the season. Here I am with the others running for Dream Big! because we believe in the power of girls' sports.

Before our run, we heard from coach Rick Muhr, with words of encouragement and counsel - mental, physical, and a little metaphysical.  One thought, and new metaphor, that stuck with me, was on the importance of running NOT like a long-legged gazelle with great leaping strides, but "like an old lady on a frozen lake," with a measured, quiet, shuffling stride that, however counter-intuitive, turns out to be the most efficient way to propel oneself for 26.2.

It's all about efficiency, Rick told us. And though it seems like the way to go faster and further is with a great, reaching stride, the name of the game for marathon success is efficiency - i.e., no wasted effort. And with that long, leaping stride sets one up for striking first with one's heel, and actually throwing the breaks on with each step, even as you are propelling yourself forward. It's also a greater muscle strain for each stride. More difficult to sustain. Heart rate too high. Cadence too low. Each step too loud, too much effort, and leaving one more susceptible to injury. 

The goal, said Rick, is to be at a cadence of 180 strides per minute, three per second. Quiet. Efficient. Heart rate relaxed. Unhurried. Conservative. Like you're driving with the low-fuel light on even when your tank is full. No wasted effort. And then, the metaphor I carried with me for our first training run along the race course (until just shy of Heartbreak Hill) - to run like an old lady on a frozen lake.

There is power and potential in what we might, at first blush, or based on flawed stereotypes or cultural norms, dismiss as weakness. Which reminded me of the #LikeAGirl campaign unleashed at last year's Super Bowl.

A great inspiration and reaffirmation of the importance of Dream Big!'s work, empowering girls through sports. 

For #GivingTuesday, Would You #GiveBold for Girls Sports?

Do you believe all girls should be able to play sports if they want to? 

Maybe today is the day to make that gift to Dream Big! so thousands more can? 

In the spirit of #GivingTuesday, CrowdRise - the group that provides our fundraising pages for the Marathon (and many, many other causes) - is running a campaign called #RunBold. 

For the charity runner who raises the most by midnight tonight(!), Crowdrise will contribute $100/mile (i.e., $2,620) to their cause and $1,000 each for the nine runners up.

Why not help direct that generosity for the sake of girls who just want to play sports?  

Here's my page: https://www.crowdrise.com/dreambigboston2016/fundraiser/stefanlanfer

Here... I.... Go...

There is nothing quite like that first time at the starting line, on the blocks, wound like a spring ready to spring at the official's whistle, or, in the case of this little girl, at the top of the jump, trying to psyche herself up, ready to go for it, a little terrified, hearing the encouraging words of her dad, and then...

And now that jump is part of her legend. Part of who she is. A cause for adrenaline-fueled celebration scream. Arms raised in the air in triumpgh. An inspiration.

Would you consider a gift to Dream Big! to help more girls go for it like this?

"When I got that call, I cried."

Last week I wrote about my journey of failures and inspiration en route to the Dream Big! 2016 Boston Marathon Team, including one of the things that had always given me pause about signing on to run and raise money for a charity team - the sense that requests for support from friends, colleagues, family, or strangers for a charity team are requests both for gifts to advance worthy causes and subsidies for charity runners' running hobby/obsession. And I wondered about that mix - in particular, how much difference these gifts actually make to the charities in whose name I might run and raise.

That wonder was allayed for me last week, when I joined other members of Dream Big!'s 2016 Marathon Team and guests at their annual gala event in downtown Boston. We had the chance to meet and hear from students, like Takora McIntyre (pictured below), who was honored with the Kathy Dooley Inspiration Award & Scholarship. She spoke with passion, poise, and power about the impact of Dream Big! and sports on her life and aspirations.

Takora McIntyre is presented with the Dream Big! Kathy Dooley Inspiration Award & Scholarship from MC, Candy O'Terry and Dream Big! Founder & CEO, Linda Driscoll

We also had the chance to hear from Tom Grilk, Executive Director of the Boston Athletic Association - who related the story of a dinner conversation with his wife, when it came up that Dream Big! was, after its allotted years in the lineup, scheduled to rotate off the Boston Marathon's charity roster. "She looked at me," he said, "and said, 'NFW.' And that was that."

Significant to that question that still hung with me - about how much difference these charity team efforts make - Dream Big! Founder and CEO Linda Driscoll shared the story of the day she got the call at her home office from the Marathon with news Dream Big! had been selected to participate in the charity team program. "When I got that call, I cried." she said, "Because I knew what it would mean we wouldn't just serve 1,500 girls that year as we had the year before, but many times more."

A few years later, Dream Big! is still a lean operation. Linda still works from that home office. She is still Dream Big!'s only full-time employee. But the group now reaches 6,000 girls every year through equipment donations, program scholarships, sports clinics and the annual Dream Big! Leadership Conferences - a total of 16,000 girls since they started in 2010.

And in support of that work, and of their growing reach to more girls each year, the 5, 7, 10 thousand or more each runner commits to raise does add up to something very meaningful. Linda noted that, as of last year, Dream Big! had raised almost half a million dollars through the Boston Marathon Charity Program. That is a lot of barrier-removing power for girls who may be living in poverty, or even in homeless situations, but still want to play - and would, if only they had that $200 for a bike and helmet, $100 for that dance or fitness class, or even just $50 for that new pair of shoes. And now so many can. 16,000 and counting.

Proud to count myself part of this team effort.

Thank you for considering a contribution to help me run and raise for girls sports.

If You Let Me Play...

Growing up the oldest of three brothers, in a way, it wasn't until I caught this 1995 Nike ad, "If You Let Me Play" that it struck me how much was at stake for girls having the opportunities I took for granted to play sports.

Now, as a dad, I know I would never let anything stand in the way of my daughter playing sports. And I am honored to be part of the Dream Big! 2016 Boston Marathon Team, running in April 2016 to help remove barriers for other girls to do the same. 

Thank you for considering a gift to help me raise $7,000 for Dream Big! via the Donate Now button at right or my Dream Big! fundraising page at: bit.ly/DreamBigSLanfer

Go, Mommy! Go! Row, Mommy, Row!

Last week, the kids and I joined the nearly half million fans on the banks of the Charles River for the 50th Annual Head of the Charles Regatta - the biggest two-day rowing event in the world. With 11,000 athletes competing, our focus was on one - their mom. 

On the docks at her boathouse, just shy of the 1-mile mark of the 3+ mile race, our oldest son climbed into a coaches launch and grabbed a giant blue megaphone and put it to work.

And when he flagged under the weight of it, his sister and friend propped it up (and took their turns shouting their heads off through it.)

Someone gave the rest of us cowbells to clang as our rowers passed.

You can see the high res video footage of her boat further down the course from the official race website at: http://www.hocr.org/the-regatta/live-webcast/ (choose event 45 and bow 12). Though I rather prefer this smartphone video caught by her father - 1) because you can see them passing the first of many crews they caught and passed en route to a silver medal finish, and 2) because you can hear the zeal of their cheering section.

I love that my kids get to watch their mom go for it (and CRUSH IT!) like this - all the more meaningful this year, which was about grit, as usual, but also about resilience, patience, recovery, and climbing back on the horse after an August bike accident that kept her off the water up until only three weeks before this race.

It is the kind of grit and go-for-it I hope for my daughter and all my kids find ways to access, and one of the reasons we enthusiastically support their engagement in sports and physical activities. Thank you for considering a gift to help me raise $7,000 for Dream Big! to advance their mission of providing those opportunities to girls from low-income and homeless situations via the Donate Now button at right or my Dream Big! Boston Marathon team fundraising page at: bit.ly/DreamBigSLanfer.

Let her run

"If I don't finish this race, everyone is going to believe that women can't do it..."

-Kathrine Switzer, 1st woman to run Boston Marathon

If the only thing standing in the way of the world's next Kathrine Switzer discovering her power and passion for running was a $50 pair of running shoes, would you buy them for her?

Thank you for considering helping me run 26.2 for girls sports via the Donate Now button at right or my Dream Big! Boston Marathon team fundraising page at: bit.ly/DreamBigSLanfer