From Start To Finish

The first half of the marathon, running through Hopkinton, Ashland, Framingham and Natick can be summed up in one snapshot - me being passed.  I wasn't passed by a few runners, I was passed by everyone. The gazelles flew by first, rubbing elbows with me as they weaved their maze around the slower runners - the hares dancing circles around the tortoises before leaving us in the dust.

Next, I was passed by the young spunky runners, the smelly runners, the elderly runners, the limping runners, runners of ALL shapes and sizes. I was passed by a man juggling as he ran. I was passed by Elvis.

Seeing the wide variety of runners, every preconceived notion I'd ever had of what "it takes" to run a marathon was shattered. It was inspiring to see so many people with obvious limitations running around me.  Of course, it was also humbling to watch them pass me by, but I let them go and stuck to my plan.

Running a marathon is perhaps one of the most personal tests of strength and endurance, yet taking this test amongst masses of other people, I had to remind myself over and over - that none of these other people mattered.  I wasn't racing them - I was only racing myself.  Since the beginning of my training, I'd had one and only one goal - "to finish."

After my first 20 minutes of cautious running, I began my run/walk routine, as planned  - running 8 minutes and walking 2 minutes. My tendinitis in my left knee flared up in my 6th mile, which was exactly where I expected it. This pain became increasingly uncomfortable as I ran, but after each walk break, I started up feeling fresh and energized again, with little to no pain in my knee. The tendonitis continued to bother me, but the pain never became excruciating. I believe the walk-breaks saved me.  

Passing into the town of Wellesley, a few distinct images come to mind - Wellesley College students (all women) lined the barricades of the street, holding an extensive variety of "Kiss Me" signs. Everything from "Kiss me, I'm Alaskan." to "Kiss me, I'm a Freshman."  I didn't see them getting any kisses, and I can't imagine they actually wanted to kiss sweaty runners, but their signs were very entertaining. 

Also in Wellesley, was one of my cheering squads - my Dad, stepmom, my friend Lillian and her parents. I was worried I might miss them, so when I did spot them in the distance waving wildly for me - I was filled with happiness. My knees weakened slightly, which was a small attack of cataplexy. I didn't like feeling this and was a little afraid that it might get worse, but there was nothing I could do about it now. I would just have to wait and see. 

I stopped to say hello and take a few pictures with my cheering squad. They all said I looked great, and I reported that, "surprisingly, I feel great!" I said goodbye and continued on my way - passing the half way mark in exactly 2 hours, 24 minutes and 55 seconds.

Wellesley was quickly followed by Newton. I started to recognize the roads and landmarks around me - as Newton is home to both Boston College Law School AND "Heartbreak Hill."  Miles passed where I only thought of logistics: "When was my next walk break?" "What song did I want to listen to next?" "When should I eat my next GU packet?" "Should I drink water or Gatorade at the next hydration station?"

I was oblivious to most of spectators, trying to keep my gaze steady on the ground to avoid any further moments of cataplexy weakness.  But still, in the corner of my eye, I watched in amazement at the generosity of the spectators along the way.  Adults and children alike held out orange-slices, Twizzlers, freeze-pops, brownies and pretzels.

They held signs for individuals; they held signs for charity organizations; they even held signs that says "Go Everyone!"  There were posters displaying the score of the Red Sox game, to keep the runners updated.  People played cowbells, others played bongo drums, and many more played music and danced wildly from the balconies of houses and bars.  If nothing else to offer - they held out their hands for high-fives. It really was tremendous - not one inch of those 26.2 miles were without support.

I took my time up the notorious Heartbreak Hill, running with very short mini-steps, but by now, I was no longer being passed. By now, I was passing people. Reaching the top of Heartbreak Hill at Boston College's main campus, I began to let my legs go - stretching out to run as fast as they pleased. 

I booked it down Commonwealth Avenue towards Chestnut Hill Avenue, knowing that a huge group of my friends were watching from there - the same place I had walked by at 5:45am that morning. I was so happy to see my friends, and they had some amazing posters! I took a few pictures and was off again. Surprisingly, I still felt great.

In Cleveland Circle, I met up with Dan and Ashley, two friends who'd offered to run part of the way with me. They were decked out in AMAZING homemade Wake Up Narcolepsy t-shirts! We ran together through Washington Square, passing people left and right. I continued on by myself through Coolidge Corner towards Fenway and Kenmore Square. Around this time, I stopped taking my walk breaks - confident my body would hold up for the last few miles.

When I saw the Citgo Sign in Kenmore Square - it hit me full-force - I would be finishing the Boston Marathon! My throat tensed, I was choking up - almost compulsively about to cry upon seeing the Citgo Sign. I held back from crying, not wanting the medical staff (who were watching us closely now) to think that I was in pain or that something was wrong.

Nothing was wrong - everything was just so incredibly right that I was overwhelmed with emotion. Instead of crying, I smiled a big creepy gawking smile - totally bursting with happiness from ear to ear.

Rounding the corner of Boylston Street, I saw the overwhelming crowds and then I saw the finish line, just outside Copley Square.  It was a surreal image and hard to believe I was living it. I kept my gaze steady on the large banner over the finish line.  This was the same finish line I'd been examining for months, the same finish line I'd been photographing and wondering if I would cross it on marathon day and if I did, wondering what would it feel like....

So what did it feel like as I rose my arms high in the air and crossed the finish line? It felt like floating - it felt like being inside someone else's body - someone stronger, someone bolder, someone healthier than myself.  To be honest, I never thought that this body would cross the finish line of the Boston Marathon. But I guess I proved myself wrong. In 4 hours, 41 minutes and 16 seconds, I finished. 

Runner John Bingham once said, "The miracle isn't that I finished.  The miracle is that I had the courage to start."  Looking back on this entire experience, I know that if it weren't for narcolepsy, I may never have taken on this challenge. My experience with narcolepsy  - however difficult - has awoken an urgency in me to live my life with intention in the moment.  In the case of the "REMRunner," narcolepsy gave me the courage to start, and for that - I am forever grateful.

Going The Extra Mile

"It was the best of times. It was the worst of times."

-Charles Dickens

6:30am on Marathon Monday:
Waiting to board a bus to Hopkinton,
with my official marathon bag slung over my shoulder.

On the morning of the marathon, I awoke at 5:11am, still a little groggy from my nighttime medication, but there was no time to waste. Out the door by 5:45am, I walked from my friend's apartment down Chestnut Hill Avenue, proudly carrying my neon yellow official marathon bag slung over my shoulder. This bag contained everything I needed for the long and momentous day ahead.

On Chestnut Hill Ave., police and workers were busy setting up barricades along the road. In just a few hours, these barricades would be lined with marathon spectators, my friends included. Although there was a serene silence to the early morning air, I could almost hear the chaotic cheers in the breeze. This small stretch of Chestnut Hill Ave falls around mile 22 of the marathon. I smiled to myself, thinking, "Next time I'm here, I will be just 4 miles from finishing the Boston Marathon!"

I took the T to the Boston Common, where the official marathon buses loaded marathoners to bring them out to the start line in Hopkinton, MA. I got in line to board a bus and quickly made friends with the runners around me, from Chicago and Texas. Excitement was in the air. However, after an hour and a half of waiting, our excitement was wavering. As we boarded a bus at 8am, we were all frozen. I was so cold that I was physically shaking. I thought, "Okay, the worst is over. We'll be in Hopkinton soon."

Riding along the Mass Pike, I watched the trees, buildings and exits rush by. I couldn't believe I'd be running this WHOLE way back! The long bus ride got even longer when our bus somehow ended up going the wrong direction on I-495 for a bit. A simple trip to Hopkinton began to feel more like a pilgrimage.

When our bus finally turned around to head in the correct direction on the highway, I realized that I needed a restroom soon. I'd dutifully "hydrated" all morning and now it was catching up to me.

After an hour and fifteen minute bus ride, we finally passed a "Welcome to Hopkinton" sign around 9:15am. I thought, "We must be close... You can make it, Julie. Just hold tight." We were off the highway and on a small back road, when our bus came to a complete stop, stuck in marathon traffic apparently.

I tried to stay calm. I noticed a few other runners getting on and off buses in front of ours, and I assumed these brave souls were using the woods on the side of the road for the same reason I was sitting in pain.

Soon, a woman in the back of the bus yelled out, "We have a bathroom emergency! Are we allowed to get off?" The bus driver nodded that it was okay, so a young women stood up and started towards the front of the bus. I stood up too and said, "I'm coming with you!"

Once off the bus, we examined the light woodsy area at the side of the road and quickly realized that there wasn’t any good place for us "to go." Just brush and soggy marsh-like areas. In addition, there were thorny vines EVERYWHERE. We tiptoed into a thicket of thorns, and I took off my fleece, making an impromptu "privacy shield" for my new anonymous bathroom buddy. We chatted about the race and about how we should have used the porta-potties before we got on the bus. She was a "qualifier" which meant that she was a fast runner.

Together, we stood about fifteen or twenty feet off the side of the road, with cars and buses passing by us at snails pace. It was an all-time low for me - an act of true desperation. It was sad, comical, and sketchy all at the same time.

Walking back onto the road, we both felt so much better. We were SO glad we'd taken action, yet when we scanned the road for our bus - it was nowhere to be found. Although the traffic had been moving very slowly just a few minutes ago, it had picked up considerably now. Originally, I thought we'd hop right back on our bus...

I'd left my official bag with ALL my stuff on the bus - including my bib and tracking device (the two things you absolutely need to run the marathon). My mind began racing, "Would the woman sitting next to me on the bus grab my bag for me? How would I find her in the Athletes' Village among the 25,000+ other runners?" My bathroom buddy was a bit smarter, bringing her bag with her.

We had no idea how far we are from the Athlete's Village and the start-line, but we thought it couldn't be very far. We trekked along the side of the road, walking and walking more, with cars passing by quickly now. Time was passing by quickly too! It was 9:45am. Wave 1 of the marathon started at 10am. Wave 2 (my wave) started at 10:30am. My bathroom buddy was in Wave 1.

Eventually, a man came running towards us, so we asked him how much farther to the Athletes' Village. He looked at his watch and casually said, "About a 6 minute run." A six minute RUN? We were still 3/4's of a mile away with little to no time before the start of the race?!

We picked up our pace to a brisk run. My legs were stiff and uninterested in running. My lungs responded lethargically. Running along the side of the road before the marathon, I don't know what scared me more - the fact that I didn't have my bag OR the fact that I was already out of breath. How would I run a marathon if I was already panting like a dog?

Eventually, Athletes' Village appeared up ahead. My bathroom buddy sped off to make her 10am start time. Miraculously, I quickly saw the woman I’d been sitting next to on my bus – with TWO bags slung over her shoulder! I waved wildly and she waved back.

As she handed me my bag, I trembled with jittery nerves. I thanked my bag-savior, Megan, and we took a picture together to commemorate our pre-marathon bond. She saved my day.

I sat down on a curb to catch my breath. The marathon hadn’t even started, and I’d already gone an extra mile, quite literally.

Once I calmed down a bit, I pinned my official bib to my shirt and I laced the tracking device into my left shoe-lace. I found a nice patch of grass to do some quick stretches. I’d expected to have hours to prepare – but now it was a matter of minutes. I gave up all hope of this marathon "going well."

By 10:30am, I was tucked in between hundreds of other runners. In front of me was a sea of runners. Behind us, another sea of runners. Each individual was just a drop of water in a tidal wave of energy and excitement. At first, we stood still. Then we began moving slowly. Walking turned to shuffling and shuffling soon became jogging. Crossing the official start line at 10:45am, we were off and running.

Carbathon 2010

Like all good marathon stories, this one begins with PASTA! The night before the race, I met a group of friends at an Italian restaurant in my old Fenway neighborhood. We sat at a long table together - laughing, joking and most importantly - consuming copious amounts of carbohydrates. As a huge pasta-lover, I was in heaven.  Among my friends gathered were a few visiting from NYC and DC to cheer me on! 

"Are you excited?"

"Are you nervous?" 

 I was both - excited and nervous, yet I tried to deflect these inquiries quickly by asking them about their jobs and their love lives. I didn't want to to talk about the marathon, as a part of me was still in denial - trying to pretend that the race wasn't actually sneaking up so quickly on me.

Yet, at the end of the night, as we said our good-byes, the inevitable reality-check arrived. We took pictures, we hugged, we waved goodbye and we said things like, "See you at mile 13!" or "See you at mile 22!" and "See you at the after-party!"

And that's when I hit me -- nothing stood between me and the marathon anymore. No dinners, no conversations, no nothing. I was officially just one night's sleep away from running 26.2 miles. Or so I thought...

Check back soon for continued coverage of Marathon Monday!

312 Miles Down, 26.2 To Go

Six months ago, on October 7th, 2009, at 4:26pm - I received an email from Kevin Cosgrove, founder of Wake Up Narcolepsy asking,

"Julie, Would any of your friends want to run the marathon for WUN? We've received  4 official entries."

Exactly three minutes later, at 4:29pm, I responded:

"Hi Kevin, That is such great news! If there are any extra bibs, I would love to run the marathon for WUN. -Julie"

Clearly, I didn't take much time making this decision.  No matter the mileage or the complications of narcolepsy - I knew that I would give anything to make this happen. Just having the opportunity to run the Marathon for narcolepsy research was a dream come true.

Since that day, I've never looked back.  Soon thereafter, I began jogging a few times a week -- slowly working my way back towards being "a runner" again.  I researched marathon training plans - finding a plethora of options depending on one's mile pace (8 minute miles, 10 minute miles, etc.). I found one plan, at the very bottom of a webpage called "To Finish." This was the plan for me, as I had no goal for the marathon other than simply to finish.

In November, I started my official training.  On Thanksgiving Day, I ran 7 miles on a treadmill in New Hampshire. Two days before Christmas, I ran 12 miles along a beach in Florida.

Most of my miles were logged on the streets of DC - 18 miles through snowy slush, and more recently - 6 miles in 80 degrees muggy heat.  Just yesterday, I ran my last mile and a half in the rain around the Reservoir in Chestnut Hill, MA.

Although most of my training took place far from Boston, this story truly began here a few years ago. This story began just a few hundred yards from Heartbreak Hill, at Boston College Law School, where I tried so hard to stay awake and study hard, all the time fighting a sleepiness of excruciating depths that I thought I could will away.  This story began in my Fenway apartment and in the streets of Boston, where I collapsed to the ground with cataplexy on multiple occasions.

Although I will never forget these difficult memories of adjusting to life with narcolepsy in Boston, I'm so excited to add a new and exciting chapter to this story - the Boston Marathon 2010!

Over the past six months, I've run over 312 miles towards my goal, and as of today, I have just 26.2 left to go! Although 26.2 miles is a long way to go - this seems like the most exciting and straight-forward part of the journey.  I have nothing left to fear, although I know that I do not hold complete control over "my results" tomorrow - I truly believe that every step I take is a step in the right direction.

In closing, one final thought: if you have a chance to watch any the marathon, either on TV or in person, you will see crowds of hundreds upon hundreds of runners passing by- many different faces, body-types, physical abilities, running paces.  There will be over 25,000  runners, and as far as I know, only one person with narcolepsy. But don't be fooled - narcolepsy is deceiving.  There are an estimated 200,000 people with narcolepsy in America -- which is 8 times the number of people participating in the Boston Marathon. So for every face you see in the marathon, multiple that person by 8, and you will begin to grasp just many Americans are affected by the same symptoms I live with daily.  

I cannot thank you for all your support along the way. It's been a pleasure sharing this with you. Of course, check back soon for post-marathon re-cap and pictures!!
Until then,
Julie a.k.a. The REM Runner

 Looking forward to standing here again tomorrow!

Let's Get This Party Started!

(Warning, this is a simulation,  I have not actually broken the tape at the finish line to win the marathon. Not yet, anyway...)

This morning, I met up with two of the other runners from Team Wake Up Narcolepsy and together we visited the Boston Marathon Expo to pick up our official bibs and tracking devices.

I handed over my registration card to the volunteer and for some reason, I thought he hesitated... I thought, "What if this was all a mistake and I'm not really entered into the race?" But a second later, he handed me my official marathon pack and I felt like I just won the lottery!

I got a little camera-happy in the Expo center, but everyone had their cameras out - documenting the pre-race excitement.  I thought you might enjoy some of these photos.

 Outside the Expo Center

Team Wake Up Narcolepsy with their official marathon bibs at the Expo

Written on one of the huge message boards at Expo. Thank you to whomever wrote this!!

One last VERY IMPORTANT request to my readers: In speaking with one of the other Team Wake Up Narcolepsy runners this a.m., we both realized that we are in desperate need of new fun songs for the race. So if you have a favorite song or two that pumps you up, please send along the names and artists either in the comment section below or via email.

Wanne know what REMRunner listens to? Here are a few of the songs that get me out of bed and out running:
1. Ride Like the Wind (Klaas Remix) by Michael Mind
2. Say It Ain't So - MoZella
3. Sweet Disposition - The Temper Trap
4. Break My Fall - Tiesto
5. Right Now - Van Halen
6. Any song by Ke$ha

 Check back Sunday evening for my final pre-race updates...

Boston, You're My Home!

Our plane dropped under a thick layer of clouds, revealing the south side of Boston, little islands interspersed along the coastline. Land and sea washing into one another, like watercolor patches of green and blue paint. The miniature play-size buildings grew to life-size homes, garages, and cars.

I've flown into Boston countless times over my life - returning home, returning to school, returning to work - to my friends and family. Yet, arriving yesterday was different. I'm here to run this city's notoriously challenging marathon. My heart jumped - the intimidation setting in.

Boston's never scared me before, especially Marathon Monday - a festive state holiday when crowds of revelers take to the streets - the day the Red Sox play in the morning - the day some crazy 25,000 people run from the burbs to Copley Square. For the first time, I feel like a visitor in my own hometown, but not in a bad way necessarily, as I was extremely proud of why I'd come to Boston.

If you have to be an outsider in Boston, I recommend coming as a marathoner. At the baggage check, I saw the first official sign welcoming the marathoners to Boston. I overheard other passengers talking about mile 11 and mile 17. I sized up my competition - skinny athletic people. More heart jumping.

At the curb outside the airport, one of my best friends greeted me with a big hug. Traveling into the city together, we talked a mile a minute and I totally forgot why I was here. But not for long, when we arrived at her apartment (my home for the weekend), the marathon came back into focus in the BEST possible way (see picture above)!

After conducting some news interviews downtown, I wandered around town and took some photos. It was 40 degrees and lightly raining yesterday afternoon in Boston, but I barely even noticed the cold chill.  I took my time, even posing in front of the Swan Boats - I'm allowed this indulgence - I'm a marathon visitor now.

Today I will be picking up my official bib and tracking chip for my shoe. I will also go for my LAST training run! I'm feeling great - actually, I'm on cloud nine. Usually, I'd complain about the weather, but I've never been so excited to be here!

In closing, I'd like to share my favorite poem with you:

"A Dream Deferred" by Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load. Or does it explode?
(Nike made an amazing commercial using this poem a few years ago, if you haven't seen it, here's the link.)  

This poem has held a lot of meaning for me these past couple years - from my dream of writing to my dream of running. Dreams don't just disappear. I tried to sweep mine under the rug and they came back to haunt me, so finally, I followed my heart. Today, I feel closer than ever to having some of these dreams come true.  Thank you for supporting me along the way. 

A Science Project Worth Running For

With just less than a week to go before the big day, I’m proud to report that I’ve exceeded my fundraising goal of raising $5,000 towards narcolepsy research! Thank you so much your generous contributions. I’d like to share some exciting news about the important research that will be supported with this money. Well, there's good news and bad news...

Lets start with the good news! Dr. Emmanuel Mignot of Stanford’s Center for Narcolepsy is one of the world’s premiere narcolepsy researchers. I’ve never met Dr. Mignot, although I feel like we’re old friends, as I’ve read and heard so much about him.  Not only is Dr. Mignot a distinguished narcolepsy researcher, but he’s also a dedicated advocate for people with narcolepsy.  I’ll never forget a quote of his I read in the New York Times back in 2007.  The article described:

“Dr. Mignot is optimistic about cracking the immune-system connection in narcolepsy soon. ‘I don’t care actually even if it’s going to take a long time,’ he said. ‘I’m ready to cross deserts.’ ”

Someone willing to cross deserts for narcolepsy? My jaw hit the ground.  Dr. Mignot’s determination means so much to me and all people with narcolepsy. It’s a light at the end of the tunnel, it’s hope for a brighter future.  

Now, just two and a half years after that New York Times article, Dr. Mignot believes that we are indeed very close to cracking the immune-system connection to narcolepsy! As an autoimmune disorder, it is believed that narcolepsy is caused by autoimmune destruction of the 70,000 brain cells producing hypocretin, a wake-promoting substance in the center of the brain.

Dr. Mignot would like to continue along this line of immunology research by participating in the ImmunoChip project this June - where the genetic architecture of narcolepsy would be compared and contrasted with other autoimmune diseases to learn about the genes predisposing people to narcolepsy (and other autoimmune diseases).  If proven that narcolepsy is an autoimmune disorder, it would be the first example of a neuronal specific autoimmune disorder, and could serve as a model for other diseases such as schizophrenia, bipolar disorder or autism.

But here's the bad news: unfortunately, Dr. Mignot does not currently have the funding necessary to take his next step.  In the past year, Dr. Mignot’s team at Stanford has submitted over eight grants for narcolepsy research to the NIH, with none having been funded. 

Narcolepsy research receives very little funding compared to other diseases and disorders. Although the prevalence of narcolepsy is equal to the prevalence of Type1 Diabetes and Multiple Sclerosis, the funding for these other autoimmune-related diseases are thousands of times greater. 

If Dr. Mignot were able to participate in the Immunochip project, our understanding of what immune pathways are disturbed in narcolepsy would be greatly increased. In addition, we would be able to design new therapeutic interventions and perhaps even find a way to detect narcolepsy in predisposed subjects before it starts and prevent it from developing!

Using similar technology, several hundred immune related susceptibility genes for many autoimmune disorders have been discovered (including multiple sclerosis, lupus, Type I diabetes, Inflammatory Bowel syndromes, Celiac disease/Gluten intolerance).

Without the necessary funding from the NIH, Dr. Mignot recently reached out to Wake Up Narcolepsy founder, Kevin Cosgrove, in hopes that there might be some alternative way to fund this vital research.  Dr. Mignot stated that, 

"I am keen to participate, not only because it is the right thing to do scientifically but also because it will raise narcolepsy knowledge and visibility to the level of other autoimmune diseases that are much better funded and studied." 

Wake Up Narcolepsy has committed to doing all that it can to help support Dr. Mignot’s work.  Funds raised through my marathon efforts will be going towards this effort. Although this will not be nearly enough to fund Dr. Mignot’s entire ImmunoChip project, it is my hope that every bit counts.   

Some of us will run marathons, others will cross deserts. There is no telling what a few determined people can do when they put their hearts and souls together for a worthy cause. We'll beat narcolepsy, I know it.

(Please contact me at julieflygare@gmail.com if you'd like more information about what you can do to help us in our efforts to fund Dr. Mignot's research.)

REM-Runners of Marathons Past

For the past four years, I've trained to become a world-class leader in the area of Boston Marathon cheering. My special talent is poster-design.

In 2006, two good friends, Katy and Dan, ran the Boston Marathon. Back then, I used only one piece of poster-board and one marker. It was amateur work, but it did the job! Katy and Dan loved their signs, along with the Easter Bunny, apparently!

 In 2007, we cheered on our friend Stacey in the Boston Marathon.  I was especially proud of my personally-designed foam-finger this year:

In 2008, our friends Julie, Brian and Guillaume ran the marathon. In addition to proper signage, I met Julie at the bottom of Heartbreak Hill and ran the last 7 miles with her. Our friend Dan (Marathon runner '06) met us at Boston College and ran with us as well. Dan was especially awesome at getting all of Coolidge Corner and Kenmore Square chanting "Julie, Julie..." to help our friend Julie through the end of her long run.

Also in 2008, our friend Christine (aka "HotWheels") ran Boston's half marathon.  My roommate, Jess and I made glittery collage signage and cheered Christine on to a successful finish! At one point during the race, I chased after Christine with one of her signs, hoping my silliness would distract her from any pain she may have been experiencing.

In 2009,  my roommate Jess ran the Boston Marathon along with our friend, Dave. By now, the signage operation and cheer-gear collection reached its full potential.  As Jess bound around the corner of Comm. Ave to turn onto Boylston for the final stretch, she smiled and waved. I was in awe of her, she had Herculean strength, yet a girlish sparkle in her eye.

 As you can see, I take cheering VERY seriously and just don't know what to do with myself this year. I would like to be on the side-lines cheering on the other three Wake Up Narcolepsy runners along with my friends running this year, Lexie and Julie (also from Marathon '08).

Instead, I will probably have my head down most of the time, trying to concentrate on my step and avoid any possible cataplexy weakness. Two friends, Dan (from Marathon '06 and '08) and Ashley have offered to join me for the last few miles.

I'm SO looking forward to seeing them and my other supporters along the way. Although I'm still not sure I belong on this side of the Boston Marathon equation, my self-doubts hardly matter - as in a week's time, I'll be standing at a start line with 25,000 other people, proudly representing people with narcolepsy in the Boston Marathon 2010.

REM-Running around DC

Running Past the Zoo, I stopped for a quick touristy pic.

Just two weeks before the marathon, I've hit a high point in my training. Am I in the best shape of my life? Definitely not. Am I running as fast as a Kenyan? Nope. But my tendonitis in my knees seems to have calmed down significantly (knock on wood). Two nights ago, I went for a 6.5 mile run, which was the longest I've run since February. During this run, I randomly got the feeling, "I'm going to finish this marathon..."  I know it sounds silly, but I've been doubting myself. Somehow, two nights ago - I just knew that I would complete it.

And then again, today, I ran 4 miles with absolutely no pain in my knees.  I've been carrying my camera with me these past few runs so instead of telling you any more about them, I'll let you see for yourself why its so great to be REM-running around DC!

Scott Circle at Sunset

 Sunset over Smithsonian and Washington Monument

The US Capitol at Dusk

 White House; Black Night

To see more photos, visit my photography website at: www.julieflygarephotography.com.