Apparently I have a fan club.

I live in Whitestone (what I call "Bumble"). Whitestone is a smallish (by NY City standards) town that's part of Queens. Technically, it's part of New York City, but if you've ever been there, you wouldn't think it.

Let me explain it this way. It takes me 1.5 hours to get to work. My commute consists of two trains and a bus. It may sound horrible, but it's really not. I read, listen to my ipod, think of nothing, text friends. I am very used to my commute. Last night, on my trek home, I took the N train from Union Square, switched at Queensborough Plaza to the 7 train, got off at the last stop (Flushing) and went to the bus stop to wait for the Q16 home. (You know you live in Bumble when the subway doesn't run in your neighborhood, at least in NYC anyway, or so some of my friends have shared.) The bus came, I got on.

There was nothing special or different about my commute home last night. Nothing different that is, until I rang the bell to get off. And as I am stepping off the bus, I thank the driver and he says: "No running today?". It takes me a minute. "Running?" I think to myself. And that's when I remember that my now longer run outside is essentially the bus route I take home. And I want to burst out laughing that anyone would remember me running. Let alone one of the many, many, many bus drivers working the route. "No", I reply with a smile, "I'm going to run tomorrow morning." And he says, "I see you running all the time." And with that, I smile, thank him again and I get off the bus, walk the few blocks home, open the door, and burst into a fit of laughter as I am trying to explain to my mom what just happened.

You see, when I first started running, I was incredibly self-conscious. (Let's be honest, I still am.) I know I don't run "like everybody else" and I didn't want people to stare at me or notice me. At. All. And it took me a while to convince myself that nobody would ever notice. And that even if they saw me, I grew to convince myself that after a moment, they would continue on with whatever they were doing and never remember.

Well, as my friend, Andrea, can attest, this theory was dispelled in Belfast. In Belfast, I had all of the security guards in the dorm area asking me about my runs and how long they were and when did I run and why didn't they see me run that morning, etc., etc. whenever they saw me. Andrea and I grew to coin them my running fan club. It was pretty funny.

When I got back to New York, I again convinced myself that no one would notice. This is New York City after all...people make an effort not to notice anyone here. And, after 4 years of thinking that no one really sees me or my weird running style (or the many times I fall and scrape my knee open), a New York City bus driver tells me he sees me running all of the time. So, apparently, I have a running fan club in Whitestone. It may only be one person strong, but that's fine with me. It's nice to be noticed, but I am still, self-conscious, after all.

Long overdue.

It's been a long while since my last post. I know. I was thinking of updating sooner but I really had nothing to share. My days have been full of the usual lately-- running, working, hanging out with friends. All good but nothing to really inspire me to write. Just because I think it's awesome I am now regularly running 7 miles doesn't mean others do, right?

I was going to write at the beginning of November too (ie- earlier this week) but I was busy with work and getting home late. And then, on Wednesday, I found out that Ylaria relapsed again and I was just too sad. I don't want to dwell on that sadness here. I just want to ask you to keep Ylaria and her family in your thoughts and prayers. They need it more than ever.

In closing today, I want to share my top 5 from yesterday. Because I haven't done it in a while and because it's important (and oh so necessary) to remember the positives.

1. I saw Ylaria at the Ronald McDonald. It was really fun to play in the playroom and hear her laugh. She always makes me smile.

2. I donated platelets. My hemoglobin was 14 (which is REALLY high for me!). It was awesome!

3. The weather was beautiful. I love this time of year where it's nice and crisp outside and the holidays are in the air (it's NOVEMBER already!)

4. I was constantly reminded that I have the most amazing friends. Ever.

5. I woke up!

Carrying Christi

"I carry you with me into the world, into the smell of rain & the words that dance between people & for me, it will always be this way, walking in the light, remembering being alive together" ~Storypeople

The quote above was my motto for this year's Christi Run. They were the words that I repeated to myself over and over and over again as I ran. They were the words that kept me going. And, on the handful of times that I wanted to slow down and take a break, I would say them under my breath and run on. They were my constant reminder that I wasn't running for myself on Sunday. I was running for Christi. For her family and for her friends and for all of the children that, like Christi, have stared cancer in the face and fought like hell to the end. I really do love running and I run as often as I can because I love it. But once a year, on my Christi Run, I don't run for me.

I felt that I really was carrying a piece of Christi with me over 6.5 miles. And, I also knew that I was, in fact, not running alone. Christi was by my side. She was with me as I ran over the hills, and felt the crisp fall breeze and admired the beautiful trees. She was there. And it really did make all the difference.

Thank you to all of you who donated, to all of you who sent messages of encouragement, to all of you who believed I could do it. You’re the best.

Love & Hugs.

It's been a while....

I haven't blogged in a few weeks. Why? you may ask. To be honest, mostly because I haven't really felt like it.

I have been doing a lot of running lately which has been great (yes, at 4:40am). I recently bought myself this little Nike+ ipod thingy that you attach to your ipod and it tells you how long you've run, in how much time and your pace. It's pretty awesome. I'm in love. Is it shameful to admit that it's one of my motivators for running in the morning now? It's like a new toy that I just can't wait to play with. Except better because it forces me to work out, which has to be a good thing, no?

And my run. Goodness! It's on Sunday. I am all ready, though. I have some good running shoes, a running shirt I created on zazzle, and loads of energy. And, it looks like we're going to be getting some nice weather. It'll be in the 60s and a partly cloudy. I was sort of hoping for rain (because I love to run in the rain) but sun is always good. Besides, I need to remind myself that the last time I ran in the rain, I got stuck in a complete downpour and had to turn around and go home because I quite literally couldn't see anything. It was pretty awesome, though. If you've never had a chance to run in the rain, I recommend it. It's fun to splash in puddles. :o)

Remembering Christi

Today marks three years since Christi earned her angel wings.

If you've come across my blog today and need some comfort, I am including one of my favorite poems. It's a gentle reminder that Christi is everywhere. Her artwork can still be seen in the stunning sunsets and beautiful snowfalls. She paints the rainbows after storms and crafts the clouds that float above. Her spirit is everywhere.

When I'm Gone

When I'm gone from your side,

And all your tears have dried,

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow;

I am the diamond glints on snow;

I am the sunlight on ripened grain;

I am the gentle autumn's rain.

When you awaken in the morning hush,

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds circled in flight.

I am the soft star that shines at night.

And when you stroll in the evening hours,

And smell the aroma of beautiful flowers;

There'll be no need to sob and cry...

I am not there, I did not die!

~ Unknown

I like to think that in joining the "Christi Crew", we all took a piece of her with us. And she of us. Love does that. It's how Love wins over death and distance and time. Christi lives on in the love, action and courage she has inspired in so many. In the words of Storypeople, Christi, "I carry you with me into the world, into the smell of rain & the words that dance between people & for me, it will always be this way, walking in the light, remembering being alive together". We will never forget you, most brilliant Christi Thomas. We'll continue to carry you in our hearts forever.

For Christi

Dear Friends,

I am writing today, not because I have anything particularly exciting to share; let's be honest, that's a rarity in my case. I have been doing well lately, keeping busy, trying to balance work and fun. And, of course, running. I've been doing a lot of running lately. It helps keep me energized, focused, sane (or as sane as I'll most likely ever get, but some insanity is always necessary, no?) And now that it's September, my runs have taken on a more special purpose. With only 3.5 weeks until what I have officially titled, the 3rd Annual Christi Thomas Run, Christi has been on my mind more than ever. I actually have a picture of her at work because looking a it makes me happy, and I like being happy. I've included it here for you because I believe in sharing Happy. It's one of my very favorite Christi pictures, though as Jennifer can attest, the "Favorite Christi Picture" category is extensive. I love this picture for three main reasons. One-- Christi looks so very happy. And, seeing her happy and feeling how happy she must have felt when that picture was snapped gives me that warm and fuzzy feeling. It makes me heart feel her joy. And her spirit. Two-- I love the fall and this is a fall-looking picture. Three-- The ponies. I mean, seriously, who doesn't love ponies?!? And look at how many there are. So, my first challenge in this email, is to look at the picture, sense Christi's joy, feel the autumn, see the ponies and I guarantee that however your day was up until this point, it's a million times better now. Christi had a way of bringing sunshine into everything-- from lemonade stands, to schoolwork, to chemo. Life gave her some pretty rotten lemons and she made the sweetest lemonade.

Christi is especially on my mind when I run. When the alarm goes off at 4:40am, I think of her and I remember her words (""Determination is what keeps you going. It's like a best friend." Said by Christi, age 7). And I find whatever determination I can muster at 4:40am and get my morning run going. She's the best friend running beside me when I want to stop and the one helping me up when I trip over myself and fall. I'm in good company at 4:40am. So my second challenge in this email, if you can, is to ask you for a donation (of any amount) to my cause (http://active.com/donate/christirun2009). And whatever amount that you give, if anything at all, just know that in giving you are sharing Christi's spirit with others. The funds go to dance scholarships and academic scholarships and care packages for other children struggling with cancer. The arts, academics, helping those in need-- even though she was only 9, I can say without hesitation that these were Christi's passions. Her passion deserves to live on, even if her body could not. Know that in contributing to these causes, you're giving a piece of Christi to someone else. Someone who may never have even known her. And in sharing her spirit in this way, she lives on. We still miss her, but this is a comfort, a vital comfort.

And my third (and last) challenge, as I sign off tonight, is to remember to tell those you care about that you love them. It may be hard, but from experience, it's harder living wishing you could have told them just once or even just once more. Christi loved with her whole heart. She lived with her whole soul. And because of that, she changed a part of the world. I'm convinced that if we all learned from her love and her living, this world would be a much better place.

I know this post may be a bit too personal for some (and some of you may be thinking that all I ever do is make you cry), but know that I am this honest because I honestly believe in what I write. And because I love Christi. And you.

Olivia

Toast

I was walking home from the bus stop a few nights ago. It was late and rainy and I was coming home from a long day at work tired. I was walking in the drizzle, enjoying the quiet night and noticing how dark the evening was-- a sign that fall is on it's way. My mind was calm and I was appreciating the moment when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, I smelled toast. Really. The smell was with me outside in the rain and it remained with me for about a block. And out there in the rain, with the smell of toast in the air, I remembered my grandfather. My Abuelo.

Toast always reminds me of Abuelo. He would toast his ham sandwiches in the toaster oven and the smell would permeate the entire house. It's so interesting the things, memories, and spaces people leave behind when they fly away. The pieces of themselves that remain with the living. I am sure that for Abuelo, the toast was just something he loved to eat. It was something he did so regularly that I doubt he ever put much thought into it. And yet, for me, it's so much more. I smell toast and I think of him; I see him in my mind for a moment and I remember how I loved him.

On that night, I remembered how I loved to hold his hand. When we were sitting together watching TV or driving home after a family meal, I would often take his hand in mine and hold it. We wouldn't say very much at all. It's not the words that I recall. But I remember holding his hand. It's that memory that makes me both miss him and brings me comfort all at once. Abuelo had thin, bony hands. When you held them, you could tell that they had known hard work and sacrifice, and strength and love. I always felt safe when I held his hand. And so very, very loved. I miss holding his hand. And when I smelled the toast that evening, I felt...I knew...that Abuelo was there with me. Walking me home in the rain and the wind and the night. And I was comforted.