Photographs and Memories

Tis the season... for year end reviews, retrospectives, and resolutions.

While 2013 was my most exciting year in recent memory, with a some AWESOME accomplishments and life changes, I find myself at the end of it feeling a little, well, blah. And definitely ready to move on to 2014. Many of my friends are ready to shove 2013 out the door, as they have faced significant challenges - with the hope that things can only look up. But I think that is what we hope for every year, no matter how successful the previous one was -- that things will get better.

So maybe we'll have a brief photo recap of 2013 and some thoughts on where to go next. Sound good? Still hanging with me?

The year kicked off right with the Sgt. Preston Yukon King 6 mile run on New Year's Day. Clock (in red) and I came in last. It was pretty awesome.

And I escaped the Michigan winter in January to visit Mike in Arizona - he was still living and working there.

Sunset heading towards Tuscon

But by March... he was on his way back to Michigan for good!

Just under 2000 miles from Phoenix to Kalamazoo!

I was already hatching my plans to run the Marine Corps Marathon and had set my sights on running the 5/3 River Bank 25k. As I wrote about before, the training didn't go well and my first half marathon of the season was rough. The weekend of my 33rd birthday was spent in Bloomington, IN for the Hoosier Half.

April came and went and Mother's Day (and Riverbank) was upon us! 

Kari's first 25k, my second 10k

As June rolled around I was finally ready to kick my running into high gear and I hit one of the low points of the year. On June 8, 2013, my grandmother passed away. 

Jamie, Jessica, Troy and Grandma
at Troy and Jessica's wedding reception, Aug 2010

The summer became an endless cycle of work, running and car trouble. In July, Mike and I took a much needed vacation to California to visit Troy, Jessica and Nolan (of course!!) and to do some sightseeing around the Bay Area. It was my first time visiting Yosemite and Alcatraz. We hit many of the San Francisco highlights in one whirlwind day, including Golden Gate Park, which clearly doesn't impress Nolan.

Shortly after returning from California, decided to get off the car repair merry-go-round. I bought my first ever new car (not hand-me-down from a family member), a 2013 Chevy Cruze. Kari suggested the name "Penelope Cruze," and she has treated me well the last few months. The downside is having an actual car payment and the car insurance hike that comes from having a car newer than your high school diploma.

I don't know about you, but I think the most logical thing to do after buying a new car and incurring a bunch of expenses is to change jobs and move. No?? Well I was never one for taking advice.

In late August, I accepted an offer at United Way of the Lakeshore, where I started my United Way career in 2009. I left my great colleagues at United Way in Kalamazoo after 3.5 years. It also meant leaving my running group, EcoTrekkers, friends, Jaycees and roomies, Heather and Shark.

Oh and I had to move. I hate moving. Dad and Mike hate it more.



My move to back to Muskegon put Mike's plans for home improvement on the fast track, as there were several projects he hoped to have done before Crookshanks and I arrived. Fast and furious work on painting, carpets and the kitchen, as well as some exterior updates took place over a 2-week period.

Crookshanks approves these updates

Throughout the summer, the move, the changes, I was still rolling towards the Marine Corps Marathon goal. I had my injury setback, detailed here, but was able to have some beautiful training runs.

Summer was quickly coming to a close and I was raising money like mad for the Epilepsy Therapy Project. I also spent a lot of time in little engine mode when mentally preparing for the marathon: I think I can, I think I can. One more race and it was time to head to DC.

Too good not to post - the Grand Rapids Marathon Relay Crew. And Mike's thumb.

I've detailed the marathon here, but there are more photos to share and always more story to tell.

Welcome to DC!

What?? You finished a marathon? You can still stand up? You're kidding!!

Ok, maybe that was just my internal monologue, but honestly, this was one of the best days of my life so far. I'm so glad that Mike, Mom, Dad and Kari were on the adventure with me!



It seems that the whole year was all about the marathon, but really, it was only about 6 months. Haha. Now that we've gotten through October and the REALLY BIG THING, as I had taken to calling it, I could focus on ending the year strong.

The runner ladies and I took to the apple orchards again this year for the Dirty Duel Trail Race. No action shots, but I think this will suffice:

With the holidays approaching, Mom, Dad, and I took a trip out to California in early December. We celebrated Christmas with Troy, Jessica and Nolan by completely spoiling the little bugger, eating all the cookies that Jessica made with no help, and having Thai food for Christmas dinner. Mike had already made plans to attend the Big 10 Championship game in Indianapolis to watch MSU beat Ohio State, so he didn't make the trip with us.

Nolan is ready to go

Aunt Jamie and Nolan spend some quality time

Almost the family Christmas card

With the holiday season properly kicked off, I returned home in the "spirit" and convinced Mike we had to get a Christmas tree. We HAAAADDD to get a Christmas tree.

Umm... isn't that the most awesome Christmas tree you've seen yet today? Yes, it does need an angel or a star. We're working on it.

I don't have many pictures from Christmas itself or the various festivities, so you'll have to trust me that this is a good representation. This is most of the Helsen women at our annual cookie exchange (and also the day of our holiday gathering). It was the first Christmas without Grandma, but we had 50 people at the house celebrating, so a wonderful celebration!

That's about it for the photo retrospective, kiddos. They're mostly rehashes, but a good reminder of where I've been this year and how lucky I am. 

In 2013 I was blessed with health, opportunity, endurance, encouragement, friendship and love. I don't know if I can ask for more out of 2014. Perhaps it's best not to get greedy and instead try to build on the abundance of gifts I have in front of me in these closing days of 2013.

My final words on 2013 come from the later verses of the traditional New Year's Eve song, Auld Lang Syne:

We two have run about the slopes,
and picked the daisies fine;
But we've wandered many a weary foot,
since auld lang syne.

And there's a hand my trusty friend!
And give us a hand o' thine!
And we'll take a right good-will draught,
for auld lang syne.

Happy New Year!

So you say you ran a marathon?

Seven months ago, I stepped out into the blogosphere and put a stake in the ground. I was going to run the Marine Corps Marathon, raise $1500 for the Epilepsy Therapy Project and write a blog about my journey. Well kids, it's November and we need to check in on those goals.

I've started and stopped this first sentence countless times now, because the enormity of 9 days ago just makes it difficult to know where to start. But as Maria Von Trapp taught us, let's start at the very beginning - it's a very good place to start.

If I were to recap the ENTIRE awesome trip to our Nation's great Capitol, we'd be here all night, so I'll dedicate this post to the marathon and touch on other parts of the trip in another post. With our starting point established, Sunday, October 27, 2013, 7:55am. A date with destiny.

Prepped at ready at packet pick-up

The entire crew (Kari, me, Mike, Mom and Dad) was staying in Maryland and getting to the start of the race required a 20 minute drive to the Metro Commuter Station and 35-40 minute Metro ride to the Pentagon. Knowing there were many logistical hurdles to navigate, we wanted to get on one of the first trains into the city, so we left the hotel around 4:40am. Seriously. The ride to the Green Belt Metro Station was not without its challenges. Primarily from me.

Five minutes into the ride: "I know what I forgot. My contact lens." So yes, I ran the race and went the next 12 hours with uncorrected vision.

Five  minutes later: "Oh... I didn't bring my ankle brace." As in I totally haven't run more than one mile since August without an ankle brace and now I'm going to run for 6 hours WTF!!! Mom was very concerned, but frankly, the brace had been bothering me and I didn't feel like I had a hell of a lot of choices, so I did NOT freak out, and decided to run unsupported and hit the med tent if needed.

Minor issues, but a little nerve rattling.

Runner's Village - heading towards the start line

We arrived at the Pentagon Station and walked to Runner's Village, familiarized ourselves with the surroundings (located porta-potties) and realized the race didn't start for 90 minutes. After listening to the tail end of a non-denominational prayer service and killing some time, we finally made our way towards the start line around 7:10. I wasn't letting myself feel the butterflies until the American flag came streaming down to earth attached to the parachutes of skydivers while an a Capella choir sang the national anthem. For the first time that day, I began to feel the enormity of running 26.2 miles through the some of the nation's most important spots. Also, it was finally light out, so I could see enough to be impressed for the first time.

Now I had to say goodbye to my kick-ass ground support crew and send them on their most excellent spectator journey, which covered miles of walking, 2 states by Metro and multiple trips through Marine Corps security. Mom, Dad and Mike are the people who made it happen.

It was time to get settled into my corral at the back of the pack and send Kari off towards the middle. She didn't want to leave and I wished she didn't have to, but she had a race to run and needed to do it about 90 minutes faster than me.

Chatting before the start

At 7:55 the howitzer fired and we were off! Ok, 22 minutes later I crossed the starting line. Tens of thousands of runners crossed the starting line ahead of me. Those 22 minutes were the longest of the day - well, until the last 6 miles.

I'll admit that over a week later, I don't remember much of the first mile except people. Lots of people. The first 10k was the most technically difficult and the easiest mentally. I had a good pace, my lungs felt good, the scenery was great and I felt right on target. For the first of several times, I saw my parents and Mike when I was in Georgetown - easily the most entertaining part of the race. It featured high school marching bands, the Georgetown Hoyas pep band, a bluegrass group and a runner who was falling down drunk at mile 5. Honestly. Last I saw her she was being helped to a cart by a Marine and another volunteer.

At nearly every intersection for 26.2 (or 26.6 according to Garmin) miles and every aid station, there were Marines, keeping up safe, hydrated, fueled and encouraged. I had scrawled my name on my race bib and at a later water stop, a young marine was filling up my water bottle and saw it. He said, "Good job Jamie! Keep going!" I almost cried because I was so glad to have someone call me by name at that point in the game.

Back to our race. After the first 6, I was settling in well and focused on maintaining a pace so I could pass the Gauntlet (mile 17) and Beat the Bridge (mile 20). These two cut-off points must be reached by a certain time or you will be removed from the course and bused back to the finish line. If you ask my fellow travel companions, they will tell you that the weekend's refrain was "I will NOT get on the bus." My pace was on the mark to make the bridge, but those 22 minutes waiting to cross the start line were not doing me any favors.

In those middlish miles before coming back to the crowds of the National Mall, I was out in the relative no-man's land of Hains Point, along the Potomac. The view is nice and there were lots of signs, but limited spectators. This is where I found the Blue Mile, sponsored by the Team Wear Blue/Run to Remember. Please check out this runner's blog for moving photos of the mile. Every 6 feet was a photo of a service member killed in action. These men and women, most barely out of their teens, were often smiling, sometimes holding newborn babies, lives full of promise and service to country. Some were career military veterans at 40, who could have been close to retirement. I pulled down my sunglasses as I couldn't stop the tears. The last half of the Blue Mile was volunteers, one after the other, holding flags at attention - all day long. I cried harder.

Regaining some composure and checking my pace, I hustled on the the National Mall, where I saw Mike again. I tried to hug him, but he pushed me on, as the math whiz in him was concerned about me making the Gauntlet. The mood on the Mall was upbeat with thousands of spectators, more music and sights to see. My parents saw me (but I barely remember seeing them) around mile 16 as I cruised towards the Gauntlet in front of one of the Smithsonian Museums (Natural History?). I made it, with Marines cheering me on and barking at everyone, in a very encouraging manner, to go BEAT THE BRIDGE!

Passed the Gauntlet, headed to the Bridge!

So I did. And I pushed it. When a Marine yelled "You've got to get to the bridge by 1:05," I said "Well what time is it now???" Turns out I was a mile away and it was 12:40 pm. So I had plenty of time, but couldn't dawdle.

When I reached the 14th Street Bridge, I could finally relax. 20 miles down. Just a 10k to go. The toughest 10k of my life. As a friend put it - you feel like your knees have been taken out and you were up all night drinking beforehand. But still, just 6.2 little miles. I could do it. I could do it. I didn't get on the bus. I didn't get on the bus. Left foot, right foot.

Once we crossed back into Virginia for the last 6 miles, it got rough. For the first time I put in my headphones. I saw Ellen, one of the other Team Athletes vs. Epilepsy runners around mile 22. She wasn't feeling so hot, and was glad to see me, but told me to go on as she was going to struggle. It was comforting to see a friendly face so late in the race.

During those first 20 miles, I was focused on the BRIDGE, but had no doubts about my ability to complete the race. Things got very real after mile 20. I still knew I could finish and was not having any major issues. The bum ankle wasn't acting up and I was successfully ignoring the growing tightness in my calves and hamstrings. The burning in my neck and shoulders had been present since about mile 5, and while it was sapping my energy, it wasn't keeping my legs from moving. I just kept running... but the miles weren't going by! I would look down at my Garmin and .05 miles had elapsed! I had to turn my watch around so I couldn't see the time or distance because while my body was going strong, time and space were somehow disrupted.

I dodged walkers all through Crystal City and winding back towards the Pentagon. Many other back of the packers had pushed it to beat the BRIDGE and then walked much of the last 6 miles. My strategy was the continue my same run/walk intervals as the first 20 miles, which I did accomplish, although not quickly. With as much or more effort, my pace slowed by at least 1 min/mile. I cursed those who said I was "almost there" at mile 23. At mile 25, I finally believed them! I saw the starting line. There were spectators lining the course.

About mile 25. Still upright, but tired

As I came upon the last mile, I could see Arlington National Cemetery in the distance. Marines and civilians alike were cheering us on. I kept moving.

Ain't nothin' gonna to break my stride
Nobody's gonna slow me down, oh-no I got to keep on movin'
Matthew Wilder

I turned a corner and saw it. The final hill. Signs on the ground saying "Charge the Hill!" and "Take Iwo" as we all climbed the short (LONGEST) hill to the finish. Marines were shoulder to shoulder giving high fives and dragging you up the hill if needed. I didn't think I had anything left, but I couldn't walk that hill. I just couldn't. I reached the top, ran the last 100 yards and crossed the finish line. Clock time was about 6:28. Official time: 6:06:01.

Running a marathon requires a lot of trust in your body, the people around you and letting your preparation carry you when you flip to autopilot. Thank god for the Marine Corps. When I was done with the race, they were (kindly) telling me where to go and what to do, because I had no post-race autopilot and energy to think for myself. 

1. Collect your medal. 2. Get your picture taken at the Iwo Jima Memorial. 3. Move to the left to get your box of food and finisher jacket. 4. Follow the fence to exit the finishers area.

My feet hurt. My neck hurt. My back hurt. My heart soared! I couldn't walk another step and I couldn't wish for a better day.

By the numbers:
Miles run (Official): 26.2  - I don't have training miles, I'm not a junkie for excel like Kari
Time: 6:06:01
Weeks of official training: 19
Money Raised: $1782.50

That's right folks... Thanks to many of you, I blew my original and expanded goals out of the water! I will be posting later this week on gratitude, but I can't thank you all enough for what you have done here. By supporting me in my first marathon, you have given me the gift of a lifetime. It is an experience I will never forget and everywhere I looked that day, I was reminded of how much bigger this is than just me. Thank you.

Proud girls with our medals!

Upcoming: 
1. On gratitude and service
2. The next adventures

In Memory

On Saturday, June 8, my sweet grandmother, Dorothy Helsen, passed away. She was 85 (and 1/2) and lived a long, full life. I loved her dearly and miss her already and can't say anything better than what my dad said at her funeral. Here is his eulogy and his tribute to his mother - wife of Ike, mother of 10, grandmother of 25, great-grandmother of 14 and a woman known for her faith and kindness in her town and beyond:

Dorothy Helsen, May 17, 2013

On behalf of my brothers and sisters, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, aunts and uncles, I want to thank you for being here today to celebrate the life of Dorothy Mae Helsen (Mom).  We are blessed to be part of the St. Catherine’s parish and Ravenna communities, as many people have been here to help our family through these final weeks of Mom’s life.  It is impossible to thank everyone, but the people who provided care for her are truly special people and she loved every one of you.

Mom was a person who lived, loved, and left a legacy.  She was a person who had tremendous patience, and organizational and time management skills.  She was able to get ten children ready for church with only one bathroom in the house.  Each summer we would spend a week in the Upper Peninsula on vacation, but it was not much of a vacation for Mom. She would be cooking and cleaning the cabin while the rest of us fished, swam and had fun, but she did it without complaining because it was the only time Dad took time away from the farm and she knew we all loved going there.  We had to go with other families in order to have enough seats in the car for everyone.  So thanks to Uncle Gene’s family, the Shillings, and the Gilberts, we were able to get twelve people to the U.P.  each summer.

Mom celebrated life in so many ways, but especially through her cooking and family celebrations.  Mom made a jelly roll on Lincoln’s Birthday (Lincoln log), cherry pie on Washington’s Birthday, owl cookies
for Halloween,  church window cookies for the annual Helsen cookie exchange day, and homemade apple pie on Sundays was almost a given.  Feeding a large farm family was a very large job and Mom was able to prepare a meal at times from what seemed to be nothing, much like Jesus did in the parable of the Loaves and the Fishes.   We even created some of our own holidays, like Pumpkin Day.  Dad would plant pumpkins each year and when it was time to harvest, the entire family would get together and take a hayride to the pumpkin patch to gather the pumpkins.  All the pumpkins would be loaded on wagons and brought back to the house and each child would claim as many pumpkins as they wanted, and then we would have a family meal together.   After the meal, a game of touch football or whiffle ball was more than likely to take place.

Mom lived her faith, loved her church and community, and was always ready to help when it was needed.    She was always there to provide food for funeral luncheons and was in charge of the annual turkey dinner at St. Catherine’s for many years.  Many people of this parish benefited from Mom’s prayers in their time of need.  Her devotion to her faith was an inspiration to everyone, and she didn't miss a day without saying at least one rosary, and with the help of Aunt Helen, Mom got in one last rosary right before she died.

Mom’s love for her family was large and she had a way of making each one of us feel special as individuals. For example, she let each of us choose what we wanted for breakfast (even chicken noodle soup), or what we wanted for our birthday dinner and the kind of birthday cake we wanted.   Mom loved life and instilled in all of us that it is the simple things in life that matter.  Mom had great intuition and could tell if we were sad, worried, anxious, or needed a hug, and she knew exactly what to say and when to say it. She always took care of us even as we provided care for her.

So today, we celebrate the life of a beautiful lady who is now resting in the arms of the angels.  She taught us much about love, faith and the value of family.  May we always remember her lessons and treat others with kindness and caring in the same way.  We miss her already and we’ll always love her “a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck.”

Ike and Dorothy Helsen, October 1948