Teşekkür Ederim

I'm writing this from Turkey, and that's how you say "thank you" here (pronounced, according to my phrasebook, "te-shek-kewr e-de-reem"). I have surpassed my marathon fundraising goal of £1500 and am currently at £1576 and counting. I wanted to say a final thank you to all the generous people, organizations, and businesses whose contributions--both monetary and material, in the form of auction donations--are helping Sense make a difference in the lives of people affected by multisensory disabilities. And so...here they are:

Caroline and Al Turkus
Lila Matlin
Alex and Karin Krasavin
Deny Soto
Hannah Gersen and Mike Arauz
Gideon Kendall
Davina Pardo
Ches and Irine Rykasov
Jason Lindberg and Nicole Niebisch
Nikki Mondschein
Irene Rosenthal
David Grossman
Joshua Sanders
Frank Samperi
Christine Hung
Mary Jensen-Thackery
Molly Miners
Anne Wedemeyer
Jason and Leanne Greif
Zack Hample
Michael Fay and Victoria Lang
Buffy Stoll
Annie Lok
Laura Campbell
Jen Kipley
Jak Eskinazi and Family
Mindy Adnot
Susan Currie
Betsy and Brian Kelder
Heather Glotzer
Willa Cochran
Susanna Styron
Jennifer and Dan Green
David Golaner
Kim Kahn
Jen Clarke
Lee and Susey Burgunder
Carol and Sheldon Sandler
Jean and Jonathan Sandler
Steve and Maggie Greif
Geoffrey Greif and Maureen Lefton-Greif
Tom and Phoebe Styron
Rose Styron
Mike Sullivan
Margo Wallasch
Terry and Wendy Halle
Jackie and Roger Norden
Amelie and Bernei Burgunder
Alexandra Styron and Ed Beason
Sue and Rick Rizzo
Allan Hillman
Kay and Gary Stevens
Patrick Mulryan
Semper Fido
Argosy Bookstore
Vassar Haiti Project
Folio Fine Wine Partners
Jessica Bruder
Lion in the Sun
Two Boots Brooklyn
Kee Fitness
ChipShop
Cakes by Tony
Fatty Crab
Jess Desserts
Nick Gorevic Photography
JackRabbit
Noah Turkus
Wine Lite Imports

Thank you all!

Well, Well, Well...

I did it. I completed a marathon. The Flora London Marathon, to be exact, last Sunday, April 13, 2008. My time, in the interest of full disclosure, was 7:16:21, which is a wicked, wicked long time to be walking around London. I made two bathroom stops, each of which took around 15 minutes (blast those toilet lines!), the knowledge of which does make me feel a little less slow. My dad and I were together for the first six miles or so, but he kept going when I made my first pit stop, because the longer he's on his feet, the more his back starts hurting. Even so, the dude finished in 6:21:02, which, given that he mostly walked (with periodic spells of jogging), is pretty darn good for a guy five days before his 62nd birthday on his first marathon. On your right, a picture of Dad in action. Do I find it embarrassing that a guy twice my age beat me to the finish line by almost an hour? Maybe a little bit, but here's what I may not have told you: my dad's a hardcore exerciser. Not some big, bulging weightlifter guy, but a consistent, from-the-dawn-of-time fit fella. I mean, look at 'im: he walked a freakin' marathon in khakis and lived to tell about it. Okay, that part's unrelated, but I wanted to stick it in there to give him a little elbow in the ribs. But really, he's been active, as I described it to a friend, since before he was a glimmer in his mama's eye. I simply have not. Sure, some dance and gymnastics when I was wee, dashes of field hockey, lacrosse, and cheerleading, but on the whole, as you may recall my mentioning, I haven't historically been a major mover-around. Here's what I am bummed about: as the race went on, there were parts of the course that were being dismantled as I walked through them. Signs were being taken down, water bottles swept up, and for the most part, it was clear that the rest of London had more or less moved on while I was...moving on. There were terrific supporters almost all along the way, and bless their smiles, applause, and kind words (and an extra big hooray for my mom and Nick, who--on the plus side of very few people's still being on the course with me at the end--walked the last 3+ miles with me), but the marathon just isn't designed as much of a walking event. I'm not the slowest kid out there--heck, this lady on the left took over an hour longer than I did to finish--but during the last couple miles, when I was diverted to the sidewalk instead of the street because they had open the roads up to cars and basically closed the course, it made me feel pretty lousy. I'd come just as far as everyone else had! I am proud of myself, but it's hard to remember what a huge accomplishment this was for me and not to feel as though I'd let someone down when all the visuals indicated that the city had given up on me. Poo on you, Londontown and your endless waits for the loo. Nonetheless, I did it. Got my finisher's medal and everything. I'm not going to do it again tomorrow, but this adventure has opened up a realm of possibility that I had always thought of as everyone else's. Me go, girl.