Dead Sea Half Marathon

Next Friday, I am b’’eH going to be running the Half Marathon at the Dead Sea. “Ellen…..YOU?!” you might be saying. Which would be totally understandable, especially for those of you who have known me since my (rather frail) youth. 

Running a half marathon has been a goal of mine since I started running in 2017 and this year I am REALLY MOTIVATED to actually do it. Why? Because I am running as a fundraiser for my favorite local charity, Lema’an Achai. I have twice run 10K in the Jerusalem Marathon for Lema’an Achai and, for those of you who supported my previous runs, I thank you. The work Lema’an Achai has done with your donation to break the cycle of poverty and give families “a hand up, not a hand out”  is incredible. But this year, they need more support; they have now expanded their mission with an emergency campaign due to the war.

My motivation is also because I am running in memory of two special people, both of whom had a strong connection to Lema’an Achai and neither of whom I EVER could have imagined would not be here, also running this year.

My friend Yosef Newman (Yosef Refael ben Chaim) died of cancer on January 20, 2023 (yes, I am writing this exactly one year after the secular date of his passing). In January 2019, Yosef, Chani and I were sitting together at the Lema’an Achai volunteer appreciation night and Yosef, who was about to run the Half Marathon in Jerusalem, was so encouraging that, although I was only running 10K for LA that year, he helped me form a vision for how I could turn that into a half marathon in 2020 (thanks, Covid. Here we are four years later with me finally bringing to fruition the first tiny hopes that Yosef encouraged). 

I am also running in memory of my neighbor, Binyamin Airley (Binyamin Meir ben Ze’ev Dovid) who was killed in action in Gaza on November 18, 2023, just two short months ago. The Airley family is so supportive of Lema’an Achai that his mother Jen continued to host the “Loaves of Love” campaign from her house even during the shloshim (first thirty days) after Binyamin’s death. Jen and  Binyamin ran the Jerusalem Half Marathon as a Lem’an Achai fundraiser a few years ago and the Airleys have hosted the pre-marathon dinner at their house many times. 

Please support my half marathon in memory of Yosef and Binyamin and to help Lema’an Achai continue their crucial work. Thank you.

https://www.lemaanachai.org/chesedathon/en/athlete/ellen-goldberg-3159/

85 Days at War....

Here are a few things I haven't written about:

Last night, to ring in 2024, Hamas sent a huge barrage of missiles at Israel right at midnight (grrr). Thankfully, we didn't have a siren here, but there were so many in areas near enough to us that we heard quite clearly that we weren't in Kansas anymore and, no, those weren't fireworks (and again, grrrr).

Recently, we had an incoming-missile siren on a Friday evening when it was already Shabbos. We had friends visiting (Malden's own Ariella and fam!) and most of us were already at shul when the siren went off. We were in the middle of a rousing Lecha Dodi (hearing nothing from outside) when I noticed a member come into shul and talk very animatedly with the Rabbi. He was waving his arms around and looked quite concerned (a real 180 from his usual calm self). Just as I was wondering if he was okay, a little kid playing on the street stuck his head in the window and yelled "AZAKAAAAA!" ("siren"). I stood up and loudly said in Hebrew that women should go into the kitchen area (which, ha, is literally just following the plan the shul has; I didn't realize how funny it is that the women go into the kitchen [and, FYI, in our shul, all the food prep is done by a man]). When I arrived at the kitchen, I turned around and saw.....three other women with me--the only other Anglos there out of about 20 women. After the requisite waiting period (and while joining the rest of the shul in continuing with singing [with as little pause as possible]) we went back and saw that not a single Israeli had moved. Not sure what to make of it, but we can at least say that we American women like to follow rules :).

I went back home as soon as the waiting period was over to see if Ariella was okay. b''H she had been putting the baby to bed in the guest room which is our safe room (and WHEW that we reviewed all those safety details when they showed up: "Not that we're expecting any sirens because we haven't had one in WEEKS". Yeah, right.....). Ariella was a total champ about dealing with this on her own. 

And in other news, last week I did something I never thought I'd do: go to shiva for someone I didn't know when I also have no connection to the family. Two soldiers from our city were killed in action last week. One whose parents are American-Israeli and the second who is Ethiopian-Israeli. I heard from Chana that SHE heard that the second soldier's shiva was very lightly attended and could I post to some local groups about it. I figured if my daughter in New York was sending me a message about it, then I should take it as "A MESSAGE" and go myself. My friend Sharon also wanted to go and we took a woman from the neighborhood whom neither of us knew. 

Definitely a lot of cultural differences at this shiva but also so much the same. Different: Sharon, whose daughter-in-law is Ethiopian, said we should bring drinks and cakes/snacks as they would have tables of food out so that people could make a blessing in memory of the deceased before eating. She also said we should bring *cleaning supplies*. "Cleaning supplies? Really? I can't do it. It's like showing up at the house of a complete stranger and telling them their house is dirty". But when we showed up, there was, indeed, a section near the food where people had brought toilet paper and....cleaning supplies. 

This beautiful family (he had seven sisters and one brother.....) was so truly "brought low" by shiva. I know everyone looks low when sitting on a low chair, but these people really looked like they had 10000 lb weights on their shoulders. It was very, VERY sad. 

not my photo--scooped from social media

Someone who looked vaguely familiar was sitting next to me, and she leaned over and asked if I had been at the shloshim for our neighbor, the soldier who was killed in action (which I've barely touched on here. Suffice it to say: Raw. Emotional. Still processing.....). Turns out she was sitting next to me at the shloshim ceremony for him as well (what are the chances?). At the same time, we wished each other that we should meet at a happier occasion the next time. And then she paused, reached over and took my hand and invited me to her daughter's wedding on Monday. Like I didn't have enough tears already....