Dr. Seuss and How I Came To Be a Runner and 2009 Boston Marathon Finisher

"Imagination is everything. It is the preview of life's coming attractions." - Albert Einstein

Before the painful physical therapy sessions with my beloved physical therapist, Miss Holly, she had me choose a Dr. Seuss book to read together. During the sessions, she would recite The Cat in the Hat or "Grinchie" as I called him and would have me fill in the blanks to keep me distracted from the pain of the sessions that were necessary to help me regain mobility after contracting paralytic polio at age 5.

After being diagnosed with post polio syndrome, a progressive neurological disease in December of 2006, I faced a grim future to say the least and wasn't sure if I even had a future.

In February of 2007 during the darkest night of my soul and body, I sat down and prayed.

Here was my answer

Running the Race - Feb, 2007
Early summer 1959 my kindergarten year
everyone around me filled with nervous fear
Despite the Salk vaccine hope polio would disappear
the polio virus crept right up and knocked me in the rear.
Dancing all around the gym feeling free just like a bird
I dropped to the ground just like a stone and no one said a word.
The pain it was so searing-the diagnosis even worse
"It's polio" the doctor said...he was abrupt and terse.
Called one of the 'lucky ones' I had a 'mild case'
but with the other athletes I could never keep their pace.
Miss Holly physical therapist, curly hair and a warm, broad smile
it tempered the pain of being apart - to walk I'd take awhile.
I always wore those 'special' shoes the kids they poked and teased
with no support and much abuse with childhood I wasn't pleased.
But put nose to the grindstone and learned all that I could
I couldn't kick a ball but my grades were always good.
Years went by and no more thought to polio did I give
I accepted the limp and everything else and decided my life I would live.
But symptoms of weakness and muscle pain did grow
I kept a stoic face hoping no one else would know.

Life no longer was my own I struggled through each day
suffered in silence, isolated from friends-trying to keep depression at bay.
And with the grace of glorious God my world it opened wide
I discovered there was a Post Polio team and they were on my side.
Using wheelchair to travel, set limits on what I could do,
resulted in joy to realize I could live life anew.
Celebrated my body- creaks, groans and need for a brace
while in my mind I focused on winning a 10K race.
Sought out paths for healing and my spirit flew free
for the first time in life, I could truly be me.
The chains are gone and possibilities abound
I'm a tree with my roots planted firmly in ground.
I'm now off the sidelines, no need to sit and whine
so much gratitude fills my heart and love and beauty shine.
After all these years I can join the loving human race
I exceed all expectations and now I set the pace.

The healing cadence of Dr. Seuss returned to me only now I was the one holding the pen.

Soon poems filled with visions of dancing, feeling whole and healed, being grateful for all that was with no expectation of any particular outcome poured out of me.

And shortly after coming out of my toe up leg brace, using a cane and at times a wheelchair for mobility, completing my course of outpatient therapy at Spaulding Rehab and hiring a personal trainer, I declared, (from my memoir, Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing Hope and Possibility available on Amazon


“Wait. I have one more goal.”

Janine stopped and turned around.

“I want to run the Boston Marathon for Spaulding Rehab Hospital. I know they have a Race for Rehab team and I want to do it next year.”

Janine was non-plussed. I don’t know what kept her from turning tail and getting as far away from me as she could. She came back into my house and put down her things. She said that the first thing I would need is a pair of running shoes. She told me that Marathon Sports on Beacon Street would be able to help me. She laid out a cursory training plan and said that we would begin indoors to build up my cardio endurance. As soon as the weather got a little warmer, we’d go outdoors and I would learn how to run.

During my training for the Boston Marathon, I wrote a series of 13 poems which harnessed the power of visualization to get me through those miles and to the finish line along with my personal trainer, phenomenal coach and having my husband and daughter by my side.

Even though I don't have another marathon to run, I feel so blessed and grateful to be a part of the vibrant and thriving running community in Boston. I'm training for the Tufts 10K which I have not run in 3 years. No matter what I am able to run and even when I wasn't able to run, my runner friends have always been there for me. I'm so grateful to Miss Holly for her wisdom to introduce me to the wisdom and healing cadence of Dr. Seuss that opened the door to my imagination to visualize myself running a race.

I feel my healthiest and happiest when I run!

What Do the Boston Marathon and Poetry Have in Common?

April is National Poetry Month and on the 3rd Monday of every April, runners gather from around the globe to run the Boston Marathon. But is that where the connection ends?

Not for me. In February of 2007, I sat in a leg brace, using a wheelchair at times for mobility contemplating a grim diagnosis of post polio syndrome, a progressive neuromuscular disease. I was told I needed to quit my full time award winning career as a VA social worker just 3 years shy of being eligible for retirement. I was given a list of contractors to adapt my Cape house or to consider looking for a ranch. Odds were that I would need a wheelchair full time. The best we could hope for was a stabilization of the symptoms where they were but there was a likelihood that even with the best efforts, I would be on a physical decline.

Flashback to July of 1959, from my memoir, "Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility":

Before we began the painful physical therapy regimen, Miss Holly would come out into the waiting room asking me to choose one of the Dr. Seuss books splayed out on the dark mahogany round table. My three favorites were “The Cat In The Hat,” “Horton Hears a Who” and “How The Grinch Stole Christmas.” ...

Miss Holly would place the hot woolen blankets on my left leg and used manual manipulation to stretch the muscles that were affected by the polio virus. She would recite Dr. Seuss to me and have me “fill in the blanks” and recite back to her in an effort to make the physical therapy sessions more tolerable. Of course, I had already learned how to dissociate from my body so I was able to experience the sessions without feeling the pain. While this method of dissociation would serve me well throughout recovery from polio and during repeated rapes and beatings, I paid a terrible price for this coping mechanism. I slipped farther and farther away from a mind/body connection.

But during the dark night of my soul and in the dark winter of February 2007, I got still and the cadence of Dr. Seuss that brought me so much healing and comfort in 1959 returned; only this time, I was the one holding the pen and I wrote:

Running the Race featured in A Celebration of Life
Early summer 1959 my kindergarten year
Everyone around me filled with nervous fear
Despite the Salk vaccine hope polio would disappear
The polio virus crept right up and knocked me in the rear.
Dancing all around the gym feeling free just like a bird
I dropped to the ground just like a stone
and no one said a word.
The pain it was so searing-the diagnosis even worse
"It's polio" the doctor said...he was abrupt and terse.
Called one of the 'lucky ones' I had a 'mild case'
But with the other athletes I could never keep their pace.
Miss Holly physical therapist,
curly hair and a warm, broad smile
It tempered the pain of being apart - to walk I'd take awhile.
I always wore those 'special' shoes
the kids they poked and teased
With no support and much abuse
with childhood I wasn't pleased.
But put nose to the grindstone and learned all that I could
I couldn't kick a ball but my grades were always good.
Years went by and no more thought to polio did I give
I accepted the limp and everything else
and decided my life I would live.
But symptoms of weakness and muscle pain did grow
I kept a stoic face hoping no one else would know.

Life no longer was my own I struggled through each day
Suffered in silence, isolated from friends-
trying to keep depression at bay.
And with the grace of glorious God my world it opened wide
I discovered there was a Post Polio team
and they were on my side.

Using wheelchair to travel, set limits on what I could do,
Resulted in joy to realize I could live life anew.
Celebrated my body- creaks, groans and need for a brace
While in my mind I focused on winning a 10K race.
Sought out paths for healing and my spirit flew free
For the first time in life, I could truly be me.
The chains are gone and possibilities abound
I'm a tree with my roots planted firmly in ground.
I'm now off the sidelines, no need to sit and whine
So much gratitude fills my heart and love and beauty shine.
After all these years I can join the loving human race
I exceed all expectations and now I set the pace.

I may not have won a 10K race but on 4/21/2009, I crossed the finish line of the Boston Marathon.

I'd call that poetry in motion!

Five Years Ago: Ode to Marathon Training-Poetry in Motion

It's fun to take a look back to five years ago when we were training for the 2009 Boston Marathon. What a journey. From a wheelchair, leg brace, polio shoes to running shoes, to taking a total leap of faith saying that I, a survivor of paralytic polio and having been diagnosed with post polio syndrome would run the 2009 Boston Marathon for Spaulding Rehab Hospital.

When I contracted paralytic polio in 1959, I was blessed with a physical therapist, Miss Holly, who would read Dr. Seuss to me before every painful physical therapy session. She would have me recite my favorite Dr. Seuss books with her to ease the pain of the treatments. It's really remarkable how years later, after being diagnosed with post polio syndrome, a "progressive neuromuscular disease" that I would turn to the healing cadence of Dr. Seuss only now I was the one holding the pen.

Writing poetry released my unconscious desire to feel healthy and whole despite physical appearances to the contrary. And when it came time to train for the Boston Marathon, my trusty pen helped me to visualize and harness strength fueling me through those long runs and to also capture my journey.

Here is one of my favorites that I wrote 5 years ago today:

Ode to Marathon Training - March 22, 2009

Blisters, black toes, aches and pains
A change in my routine
Long training runs, the hills, the sprints
Keep running clothes fresh and clean.
Carbo load and plan each meal
Power gels and gatorade
No matter what the weather
No time to be afraid.
Humid – hot or freezing cold
Snow against the face
Wind or sun or raining
Those running shoes I must lace.
What mile is this how long we been out
Check heart rate drink H20
Meltdowns joys and triumphs
Only a few more weeks to go.
Heartbreak Hill won't break my heart
This year has been the best
Found myself and made new friends
I feel incredibly blessed.

One more long run and then taper time. My love and prayers are with all getting ready to run long and show the world what Boston Strong is all about.