2,500 Laps: Two Months In

Just a quick update on my quest to swim 2,500 laps in 132 days: yesterday afternoon, I hit the 870-lap mark after a quick 70-lap swim. I gave myself 132 days to swim 2,500 laps in honor of Noah Coughlan's cross-country run, and after 63 days - meaning a little less than halfway through - I'm only slightly better than a third of the way to my goal. I was out of town a LOT in July and August, however, and I hope to make up a lot of ground while I'm home over the next couple of weeks. The only speed bump may be a minor surgery scheduled for early September. I'm making a second trip to the OR to finish fixing my nose, which I broke badly playing soccer last year, so swimming probably won't be an option for a week or so.

On another note, my physical therapist gave me some great news on Wednesday. He thinks I'll be able to run in about a month - something I haven't been able to do since I injured my Achilles (playing soccer, of course!) on April 14. I'm committed to this swimming thing, though - for Taylor as well as my long-term health. I've just got to stay focused. 1,630 laps to go...

As a friendly reminder, if you'd like to make a pledge toward my 2,500-lap quest for Taylor and others like her, simply visit the Miles to a Miracle website and click on the 'DONATE' button on the left. If you have any questions, please let me know. Thanks, as always, for your support!

2,500 Laps: Two Weeks In

Just a quick update re: my quest to swim 2,500 laps in 132 days in honor of Noah Coughlan's cross-country run for kids with Batten disease: over the first 17 days, I've only been able to make it to the pool five times, but the good news is that those five swims added up to 360 laps! Life makes it tough to commit to something every day, which makes Noah's achievement that much more powerful. He's one of my heroes, and I can't wait to meet him in person.

As a friendly reminder, if you'd like to support my quest to swim 2,500 laps with a gift to Taylor's Tale, visit www.taylorstale.com/miles and click on the 'Donate' button in the sidebar on the left. If you have any questions about this, please let me know! Thanks in advance for your support.

More to come soon...

If I Have to Crawl

The cold, damp weather chased me indoors this morning for my Thunder Road Half Marathon training. I'm a fan of running in the cold, but not the rain. So I bundled up and headed to the YMCA, where I hit the 1/12 mile-long track with my heart set on completing 120 laps, or 10 miles.

The first mile felt good - nice and easy.

The second mile was better; my muscles were warm, I was into the heart of my playlist, and I coasted.

Near the end of the third mile, I thought about how if I was Taylor running one of her 5Ks, I'd be close to the finish line. When I'm running a race, I like to sprint the rest of the way as soon as the finish line comes into my field of vision. But Taylor never got a glimpse of the finish lines she crossed. She had to get her last burst of energy from somewhere else - somewhere deeper, somewhere purer.

Two laps into the fourth mile, an invisible demon struck a match inside my shoes, and the balls of my feet caught on fire. My achilles whined. Everything else felt good, though. So I pushed on.

Partially to push my very real physical pain out of my mind, I thought about how if I was Taylor, I would be running in darkness. I was too scared to close my eyes on one of the turns, so I closed them for an instant on a straightaway. I felt the presence of other runners and walkers on the tiny track and knew that I would never be able to make it to the far end. I opened my eyes.

Seven laps later, I glanced down and discovered that the entire toe area of the shoe on my right foot was soaked with blood. I never stop in the middle of a mile, though. I had three laps left. Just a quarter of a mile.

As I rounded the third corner of lap 60, I sprinted the length of the last straightaway and right into a chair by the water fountains. I was only halfway through my 10-mile run. But I knew I was done.

I've been injury-prone since I was 15 years old. I've never gotten through a single soccer season without getting hurt. In my mid-20s, I made the inexplicable decision to turn myself into a distance runner. I never really thought about why until this very moment, right here. But I know instantly, without question, that I became a distance runner because of my sister.

In the months after Taylor's diagnosis, I ran to get away from Batten disease. No matter what, running always felt better than crying. I still cried. But I ran more. And after I discovered that I just might have a say in how the story turned out, I ran harder than ever.

Blood-soaked shoes and all, I'll never stop running. Next Saturday, December 11, I'll cross the finish line of my second half marathon, even if I have to crawl. I could never let myself quit. That's not Taylor's style, and it's not my style either. So, to bloody feet and weak ankles and Batten disease, I say bring it on. You may knock me down. But you'll never knock me out.

I'm not only running for myself - I'm running to save Taylor's life. Please consider supporting my efforts through Miles to a Miracle, a new campaign inspired by Taylor's great courage on the race course and in life. Email me to learn how.

Miles to a Miracle!!!

My sister, Taylor, is pretty amazing, and she has a lot of achievements to her credit - some of them mind-boggling considering the obstacles she faces.

When Girls on the Run came to Taylor's school at the beginning of her fifth grade year, she insisted on taking part in the program with her classmates - never mind that she's blind. Taylor has always refused to watch the figurative race - life itself - from the sidelines - and the way she saw it, a 5K should not be any different. Each weekday that year, she stayed after school to run and/or walk laps around the track with her classmates and coaches. Unlike the others, Taylor had a special buddy - an upper school student who held onto one end of a rope while T held onto the other end. With the help of this special friend, Mary-Kate, T never veered off course.

On the day of the practice 5K shortly before their first shot at the real thing - the Jingle Jog in uptown Charlotte - Taylor was the last person to finish her laps. I was not there that day, but many people have related their own version of the story of how, as T finished her last few laps, others - including her classmates and coaches - fell in behind her until finally, when T crossed the finish line, she was the leader of a huge pack. Molly Barker, founder of Girls on the Run, witnessed T's feat that day and immortalized it in an article she wrote for Endurance Magazine.

A few days later, T took part in the 2008 Jingle Jog 5K in uptown Charlotte. Flanked by her running buddy, one of her coaches and a few classmates, she crossed the finish line running. The expression on my sister's face at that very moment, in my eyes at least, was a symbol of hope: proof that nothing - even Batten disease - is cause enough for giving up on a dream.

Five months later, T completed the Girls on the Run 5K, shaving 12 minutes off her Jingle Jog time. On the last lap, we came across the word 'Believe,' written in big chalk letters stretched across the pavement. And even though T didn't win the race that day, watching her cross the finish line a few minutes later really brought the magic of her story to light. It also reminded me that even though we don't know exactly how long it will take us to get there, the finish line - in this case, the cure for Batten disease - does exist. And the smarter and faster we run, the more kids like Taylor we'll save.

Enter Miles to a Miracle, Taylor's Tale's exciting new campaign to fight the disease that threatens to steal Taylor's ability to run and so much else. T's story is about running, but you can do whatever activity you love for kids with Batten disease - whether it's running, walking, hiking, biking or swimming. Miles to a Miracle is a portal where you can log miles, raise money, connect with others and share your story through pictures, words and video. You can do something healthy and fun, network and support a great cause (happy endings for children like Taylor, of course!). You can create events of your own - from a top local race you run each year to a group walk after work one night. Our goal is to raise $24,901 - the distance in miles around the globe - in honor of kids all over the world fighting this tragic disease. For my part, I plan to donate a dollar for every mile I log in addition to asking friends and family for one-time donations when I run big races, like the Thunder Road Half Marathon in Charlotte next month. More than anything, though, we want Miles to a Miracle to take our story all over the world so that people know this horrible disease exists and takes the lives of all children it strikes. So, even if you don't think you'll do any fundraising but still want to help us use Taylor's inspiring story to fight Batten disease while doing something healthy for yourself, please join us!

Register today to start logging miles, or donate to a friend's effort. Either way, you can help write the happy ending for children fighting Batten disease! Thank you for all that you do to protect those seven chalk letters we saw on the street that day. The chalk washed away long ago, but the letters themselves live on in my heart:

B-e-l-i-e-v-e.

Go to Miles to a Miracle!