When Life Hands You Lemons (my Philadelphia Marathon recap)

When life hands you lemons....sometimes you're just plain out of sugar and you have to eat the lemon. That's how I might quickly sum up my disappointing marathon yesterday in Philadelphia.

I mentioned in my post about pushing for a PR (sub 4) with the Hanson's Marathon Plan, I really pushed harder than ever in my training. And I can't deny - I was feeling very confident. So confident, I was actually considering going for a 3:45 if the first half went like I thought it could.

But by the time I flew to Philly Friday afternoon the forecast was calling for "gale force" winds on Sunday with a major storm from rolling in Saturday night and blasting the region until Monday with winds from 15-30mph and gusts much higher. The temp before the wind was in the 40s, which is my favorite running temperature. So I kept holding onto that and praying that at some point those winds would be at my back and "even out" the effort. Wrong.

I stayed with one of my running buddies and her hubs, who used to live in Philly and kept their place there. We had planned to run together as much as we could (if we would have hit out target, she would have gotten a BQ which I was using as my own sort of motivation).

Saturday night the storm rolled in and the wind was howling. On our walk back from dinner it starting sinking in that this was real. It wasn't going to maybe "go north" or not be as bad as they said. Trees were whipping around and small branches were falling. I started debating my race plan. When I was going to bed I honestly didn't even feel like putting myself through this run. But I woke up Sunday and had a renewed sense of determination. The winds were supposed to be 16-20mph for the first few hours. But they were predicted to pick up to about 28mph by 10am. The race started at 7, so I thought maybe if I could fight through the first 20/21miles, by then I could will myself the last 45-50 minutes. Or maybe the wind would be at our backs. Hey it could have happened...

Self talk. I was right for 3 hours, anyway...

We both decided we were going for it. Too much training, too many speed sessions, and too much unknowns with the wind patterns. The first 10K we were cruising, and my beanie blew off at mile 5. Our watches both had us at 8:15s, but the course already started getting long and we crossed the 10K mat at 6.35 miles on our watch. That meant our avg was lower, but still where we wanted it to be (52:53 for an 8:30 pace). There were wind gusts but it "seemed" manageable. There are a few big hills in the course and they are all between miles 7 and 10, so we knew we'd be a bit slower there, but we were still pushing hard through the gusts, which seemed to pick up and we tackled those hills like a boss and got to the halfway point still on target at 1:54:24 for an 8:43 avg pace).

This is where it really changed. The second half is an out and back on the river. I had really been looking forward to this because I happen to love out and backs. But we made that curve to the river and the winds just started whipping consistently. I was still hoping that maybe it would move direction, so I kept fighting. I felt like my effort was still the same, but the numbers on my watch were slipping. 9:21, 9:29...you get the picture. I crossed the 30K (18.6 miles) at 2:47:50, now an even 9 min pace. In theory I still could have easily broken 4 hours at my usual effort. But I was not running my usual effort. And I hadn't been. The truth is, I knew at mile 9 it probably wasn't going to happen. I was having to fight too hard to stay on pace. You can't be fighting at mile 9. It needs to still feel easy at that point.

I looked at my watch somewhere between 19-20 and I was now out of reach for 3:50 and 3:59 was only possible if the weather would have magically vanished. But in fact, it picked up. It was 10am, and right on cue, those winds got stronger. I was done. I think I just used so much more energy than normal, I was just plain exhausted. I stopped and walked for a minute. I watched my friend trudge on, bless her soul. For me, when I accepted the fate of the day...there just shy of mile 20, I lost all my fight. It wasn't in a temper-tantrum kind of way, or a quitting kind of way. I felt actually very rational. I worked my tail off for months to run under 4 hours. And it wasn't going to happen today. I've run a 4 hour marathon and I just had no interest in killing myself anymore in these conditions if I wasn't going to make that happen. I didn't want to get hurt or feel like absolute crap for a non-PR.

So I decided to walk to mile 21 and reassess. It was a long mile which consisted of the 7 stages of grief. Then I called my sister. Our conversation:

Crys: "Summer?? Are you in the race?"
me: "Yes." sniffing
Crys: "ARE YOU OK?!?!" always the protective big sis
me: "yeah. I just need to cry to someone for a minute."
Crys: "ok." (commence crying)

She let me get it out for about 30 seconds and then started saying lots of positive things like you would expect. And then she reminded me it takes a long time to walk 5-6 miles slow and in gusting 25-35mph winds that made the temp in the upper 20s, in soaking wet clothes with no hat, I could really be in trouble if I completely strolled. She pleaded with me to walk fast or run super slow just to keep my body temp up so I could get to the finish without medical assistance.

I did a combination of both of those things. And I will spare the details of that last 10K but it was rough. Even trying to walk fast in those winds was defeating. I couldn't feel my hands or my cheeks and I started shivering. But eventually I got there. And marathon number something (15?16?) is in the books.

Thawing out 

I have to say, as disappointed as I was/am, (all those early mornings, all that speed, all the family sacrifice), I have a lot of take-aways that are leaving me feeling pretty positive.

German Biergarten post race - YES

My Jenga block said it all.

First, I do feel stronger than ever. And more confident than ever in my ability to push my pace for longer distances. It wasn't too long ago (like February), that getting to mile 19 at that pace in perfect conditions was my best effort in a marathon. In fact, my 30K time yesterday of 2:47:50 was faster than my Tokyo 30K of 2:48:09, where I hit my 4:00 PR. Knowing I did that with bigger hills and crazy winds confirms this for me and gives me some peace.

Second, my mental state keeps improving. I was the most calm I have ever been in the weeks before this race. I was excited to run and test my limits. And, on race morning, I had the attitude that I was going to push as hard as I could and let the chips fall where they may. The me of prior years would have been crushed in the first couple of miles that everything wasn't perfect and would have not even tried to run on pace. I have really gotten over giving up before I start. And that has taken me a very long time.

Third, I feel like I've matured enough to know that you live to fight another day. I'm really glad I chose not to push once my PR was realistically out of reach. While the jaunt to the finish was cold and miserable, I knew it was the best thing for my body. I have a hamstring that I have to baby, and knowing this wasn't the day, I wanted to preserve myself so I can get back to running easily again. Once that thing gets injured, it can put me off track for 6 months or more. I'm not letting this training go to waste. I want to keep it up over the winter and assess when/where I want to push next year.

Last night when I crawled into bed at 11:45 after getting home, my husband was waiting for me and he actually said something to me that made me feel so good about myself. He told me he thought that my decision to take care of myself and preserve my training made me cross the line to really being an "athlete" yesterday. I was like "whaaaat?!" He said "you know, you see those elite athletes and sometimes they stop at mile 18. It's not that they can't finish. It's that they're in it for a purpose, and when it's out of reach, they stop so they can pick up again quickly and get right back to training." Obviously winning a marathon and getting a sub 4 are drastically different things, but I took his point. When the goal is out of reach, be smart, and do what it takes to get right back at it.

So. I guess that's what I'm going to have to do now. Onward. Upward.

In Hanson's I Trust, In Hanson's I Trust, In Hanson's....

I'm trying really hard to keep repeating that phrase these days. It is in reference to a training plan I'm following for the first time for my upcoming race, the Philadelphia Marathon. I decided this summer I was feeling pretty good after hitting a 1:49 half marathon PR in July, and one of my running partners had signed up for Philly, so I thought I would join her and go for my sub 4 hour marathon.

I wasn't sure after running 4:00:30 at the Tokyo Marathon in February that I'd be motivated to do all that training again to take off 31 seconds. But my girlfriend's Boston qualifying time is now 3:55 and so I thought if we could train together aiming for a 3:50 time, I would be helping a friend through most of the race get her own PR, and hopefully breaking the 4 hour mark myself - with plenty of wiggle room down the stretch.

My sister bought me the Hanson's Marathon Method, which says "Run Your Fastest Marathon!" on the cover. Hey - that's a pretty convincing statement. I was in. Why not? I've only used one other training guide for an actual time goal (rather than the generic finish programs I have used) and both times it was the 4 hour program that was xeroxed from a friend, from a magazine years ago. I like that plan...I mean...I worked...but I definitely felt up for a new challenge.

See...it says so right on the cover! It must be true!

Well 16 weeks later, I'm now firmly in "taper" mode (more on why I used quotations in a minute) and praying this actually works. It is so completely different than any program I've ever seen that I can honestly say I have absolutely no idea if I am ready for this.

Unique facets of the Hanson's method:

1. Speed early, and slightly slower speed later...but always speed
I've seen (and done) speed work as part of marathon training before, but it's usually in a chunk of the 18/20 week program. With Hanson's you start at week 6 and end in week 17, just a week before marathon week. And, the mileage is significant. With all the warm-up/cool-down activity I'm putting in 10 miles on my speed day. And have been...for weeks.

So. Much. Track.

2. Marathon pace only once mid-week and never on long runs
This is probably giving me the most anxiety. I have always attempted to run most of my runs at marathon goal pace. But this book is pretty specific as to why you should not do that. I'm buying in, as I've said, so I am strictly obeying. But only one run a week at marathon pace is messing with my head. It is between 8-10 miles, again...during a weekday.

3. Serious time commitment down the stretch with several 10-11 mile runs mid-week
See above reference to 10+ miles on speed day and "tempo" run day which are both mid-week. When you have to be running at 5:30 (or earlier) to get that kind of mileage in...it takes a toll on your energy. And I have been dragging.

4. Long runs no longer than 16 miles
At first this seemed awesome. No run longer than 16 miles? (insert laughter) Easy peasy...sign me up! But I can't help but feel like I'm missing something without my grueling 20 & 22 mile runs. How can I be ready? If I hadn't run a bunch of these before, I think this would be a big mental hurdle. Fortunately I know how it feels, and I know I can finish. But it still is nagging at me a touch.

5. Lots and lots of miles
In my prior race programs I peaked around 45-48 miles. And usually only had about 4 weeks over 40 miles per week. Well....this time I was at 39 miles in week 6. And you're well over 45 miles for the entire last 10 weeks of the program, peaking at 57 miles.

6. TINO. Taper in Name Only
By the time I hit the peak of my programs and sliding into taper mode, I'm usually swearing under my breath at the end of runs, crawling into ice baths, and just wanting the whole thing over. But this time...I've had to keep my head together because it turns out...this 3 week taper program isn't really too much of a taper. I'm "down" to 51 miles this week, with a massive drop to 49 next week. Marathon week is 50 as well (including the race). Seriously. WTH. Still doing speed and still doing long tempo runs. Still running at dark-o-clock.

7. No real flexibility
This program has you running 6 days a week. I've always done 4 or 5 day plans which work nicely for people who need flexibility for you know, life. But this time, I've had to find a way to get those runs in. Also, because of the nature of the specific workouts, you can't really play around with changing days. I tried once and it didn't turn out well (see reference to bloody ankles below)

Saying all this, I am feeling pretty strong. I'm actually surprised I've been able to handle the miles. I've hit all my time targets in the past 16 weeks, with one exception that included a hot sunny midday run with new shoes and two bloody ankles.

I'm kind of approaching this as an experiment in two ways. Can I even get close to the 3:50 finish on race day? I have no idea. But, if I can get close to the 3:50 time target with this plan...could it help me go a little further and get a BQ (sub 3:45)? That's what I'm really hoping to see come race day. I've never dedicated so much to a training cycle, and I'm curious how different it will be and whether it will light my fire to go for a BQ.

Until then, I'll be setting my alarm at a time that makes me angry, eating as many salty potatoes with ketchup I can get my hands on, obsessing over the weather forecast and silently chanting "in Hanson's I Trust."

Spectating in Chicago!

Nearly two weeks ago I headed to Chicago for the weekend, picking up my mom on the way, to cheer on my sister and one of my nieces, who were both running the Bank of America Chicago Marathon - the first for both! And do you know what I learned? Spectating is FUN!!! Like serious fun, people.

My mom and I got in to Chicago late Friday and had a good dinner followed by a nice long sleep. This is a rarity in my world, so worth the mention. Saturday we did our own thing waiting until my sister and her two girls got into town. We got the word they were downtown so we met up with them and headed right to the expo at the McCormick Center.

Going to the expo as a spectator was more fun that I was expecting, primarily because I wanted to see this:

My name! On the wall! The Abbott World Marathon Majors Six Star Finisher wall of champions! I could have skipped around that expo after seeing that, but alas, it's not socially acceptable.

I was also giddy for my sister and niece who were getting their packets and just experiencing the whole thing for the first time.

They didn't want to be there all day like I did - but I get it. Expos make me super nervous for some reason and on more than one occasion I have felt like I was going to pass out in them. So, we left and shortly later enjoyed a great italian dinner before splitting up for early bedtime.

My sister stayed with me in my room and watched me make my superstar sign. If it's one thing I knew I'd do like a boss, its make a good visible marathon sign. As a runner, the best signs are high and shiny or bright. Everyone holds white poster board and it's hard to distinguish those in big crowds. And boy, I had a winner!!!!

I generally was doing what little sisters do, sort of make fun of her, sort of support her, and sort of put the fear of God in her. haha. It was my favorite.

The next morning, I was up with her, wrote her name in big letters on her arm, and walked down all the way to entrance of the corrals. I could barely control my excitement. I had a few things I wanted to tell her...like how important it is to think about your finisher pose so you have good pictures. I was showing her examples as we walked to her amusement/irritation. And that a good mantra is nice to have ready, and I shared some of my favorites. Then mostly that I knew she could do it.

And I have to say, when we hugged it out and she went on her way, I thought I'd feel sad that I wasn't running. This was the very first marathon I have ever been to in which I wasn't running. But I wasn't. I was relishing the "support crew" role. I was going out solo because my mom and other niece wanted to stay more around the central area. That is one of the great parts about this course, its basically 3 out and backs to the center city, so if you don't want to take public transportation you can easily still get to a few locations.

But I wanted to get out farther where the crowds were more manageable. And, where I recall needed a boost myself. I bolted out to get to my first spot, because my niece was in the first wave. She is a little running superstar and her half time of upper 1:20s got her in a pretty good corral. I ended up going to the 4 1/2 mile marker first thanks to a friend of mine from high school who lives there and gave me exactly perfect directions from every L platform, with spots for coffee or snacks. Shout out to you, Liz!! Your info was amazing!

My niece had mentioned she was just going to "take it easy" and run with the 3:30 group (eyeroll). And at 4 1/2 miles, she was right there.

I knew in my gut this was short lived, because she is pretty competitive and also 8 minute miles is quite slow for her. I then walked to the 10 mile spot and waited for her to pass, but missed her. I knew it. She sped up. The tracker showed she had moved up to 7:40 pace. I waited for my sister because I thought at 10 miles she could use a friendly face. Just before she got there - I happened to see one of my sorority sisters, who I had been tracking. I screamed her name and to my delight, she elbowed her way over and gave me a huge hug and we took a selfie. :)

I saw my sis and she was looking strong. It was a great day for running (upper 50s) and I had the sense things would go pretty well for a long while, anyway.

After that I bolted down to the 24 mile marker. Yes, by this point, my niece was already at mile 20. (mile 20!) And one of her splits was 7:22. Good God. I was barely there in time - but I caught her! I yelled her name and she put her arms up like "yeah, I don't get the big deal" as she cruised to her finish. Her last mile was a 7:12 "because I just had a lot of energy left." (more eyeroll) She finished in 3:20 and placed SECOND in her age group of 16-19 year olds. I was so proud of her. Truly - its fun to watch someone with such a natural gift. And since she's 15 minutes under her BQ, looks like I get to spectate for her again in 2018!!

I had enough time to go back a few blocks to wait for my sister at mile 21 in Chinatown. In fact, I was getting pretty hungry - so I popped into to one of the many restaurants for a quick few dumplings. I also took this picture because I wanted to torment my sister that while she was slogging it out I was happily eating dumplings with my fancy sign. haha.

I found a good spot on the route and started yelling her name. It took a while to find her, so I knew she was slowing down a bit. I saw her and got to tell her that her daughter had finished so amazingly, and was A-ok. She was relieved to hear that and now, I think, could focus more on getting her own butt 5 miles further down the road. She looked like you typically do at mile 21, but had her head down and was moving forward.

I went back the few blocks to the 40K mark and waited. I know from experience this is a tough, tough spot. So I made the decision when I spotted her, to ditch the sign and start jogging next to her along the edge. She was still doing great, but I knew mentally where she was at, having been there many times. So I ran ahead like 10 feet and started jumping up and down and yelling to the crowd to cheer for my sister! I was yelling "cheer for Crystal!" - and the crowd started screaming her name as she passed by. It was probably obnoxious, but loads of fun for me. I could tell she was smiling in here eyes, even though she didn't seem to have the energy to express it on her face. After a half mile of that I had to get back behind the barrier...but by then I knew she was golden. And she was - a 4:26 finish for her first marathon!

We caught up to each other and after a while ended up going to one of our favorite places to eat before heading out of town. My sister was doing remarkably well. And my niece looked like she just had a short jog in the park.

It was such a fun time. I was a super fan for sure. I didn't just cheer for them, I was yelling for everyone with their name written or a had their country's flag. As a runner, you really do remember awesome fans...and in fact they can truly lift you when you're in a rough patch. I kept thinking about some of those who had helped me. Three of my favorites:

During one of my Bank of America Chicago Marathons, I was getting pretty hot, and this African-American woman crouched all the way down and started pulling her arms looking right at me saying "Come on now, you can do it. Let's go!" It made me feel so strong and put me in such a good frame of mind.

At around mile 24 of the BMW Berlin Marathon, I was struggling. It was getting hot in the sun. I had been dumping water on my head but was on target to hit my goal of under 4:15. I looked over at the crowd and made eye contact with this younger man holding a beer leaning over the railing. He smiled and gave me this over exaggerated wink. It made me laugh so hard, because obviously I was dying and looking like a drenched rat. It lifted my spirits just in time. I made my cut-off by a nose in 4:14.

During the Tokyo Marathon I was feeling a bit lonely because I was focused a lot on my time goal, and there were obviously fewer Americans in the crowd. And then I saw this one Japanese young girl start waving at me, screaming in Japanese. I was so confused until she flipped her phone over to reveal an American flag phone case. Her show of support for me brought tears to my eyes in an otherwise "all about business" race for me.

Being able to be that person for others was so rewarding. I'm not sure that its better than running them....but it's a very close second. And you get to eat dumplings.

Everyone Has the Same Two Questions

After years of fairly non-stop training, I allowed myself to have a bit of a hiatus after finishing the Abbott World Marathon Majors in April (including my blog updates). The lack of stress I had without having to gear up immediately for the next round of training was...delightful. I ran proudly without my watch for weeks, usually doing a casual 25-30 miles per week. I also started doing more cross training after shorter runs. But then...this came:

My Six Star Finisher Medal!!! It's sooo pretty!

The back - totally getting my name engraved on this bad boy.

And suddenly I'm excited to start talking about marathoning again and thinking about what lies ahead. Remarkably, I've gotten the same two questions from people over the past few months so I thought I would just jump back into my blog with those!

1. So now that you've done all the Majors, which is your favorite?

I have spent quite a bit of time contemplating this. The answer isn't simple. It really depends on what you consider "favorite." If you're talking performance, I should say the Tokyo Marathon, because it was my personal record. But that's not where my heart goes to right away. In fact, there are so many considerations...best course, best crowd support, best expo, best finish, most unique....I would pick a different race depending on what you meant by the asking. There are two ways to view it that I think are the closest to getting home on the question. The first is - if I had the chance to run only one of them over again, which would it be? And that would be The Virgin Money London Marathon. There are a couple of things that stand out to me about that race. The expo is amazing. Second to none. It's big, dramatic, with amazing official gear. The atmosphere on the course is loads of fun, with all of the official pubs en route - it feels like you've interrupted a giant party. And the finish...there really is NOTHING  like that finish, with all the Union Jacks lining the last quarter mile in front of Buckingham Palace. Simply breathtaking. However, that is a very emotional race for me, as my dad is English and I have grown up holding that part of my heritage very close to my heart. I'm honestly not sure if others would have the same experience. 

So, the second way I consider the question is - if I had to recommend one race to someone who hasn't done any of them, which one would I suggest? Hands down - the Bank of America Chicago Marathon. I love this race. I've run it three times. It's the only marathon I've repeated and I will certainly do it again. I love every.single.thing. about this race. The expo is large but easy to navigate. The course is a dream; flat and wide. They prepare for weather and have extra fluid, water sprays and ice if it's hot. The crowd support is out of this world, and running through those streets with all those people is how I imagine Ferris Bueller felt during his parade performance. Also, it has the easiest entry and exit BY A MILE compared to any other WMM. It feels like a bit of a cop-out because it's so close to home (relatively), but it's true. We have an absolute gem here in the mid-west. 

As I said, there are so many wonderful things about the others that I think every person who ran all six would have such a different experience. Tokyo was so culturally unique, New York was such a fun course, Berlin was so historic and complex, and Boston....well...that is a race for those who truly love the marathon.

2. So, what's next?

There are a lot of obvious next steps for me to consider. I could try to break 4 hours. But, that's only a 30 second differential...and I'm not feeling motivated to train hard just to take 30 seconds off my time. Taking it a step further...I could try to run a Boston Qualifying time (I'll be 40 in a few weeks and my time will be 3:45...only 15 minutes off my PR). Fifteen minutes is still a lot, but it's doable and I've taken off 14 minutes each in the last few of my marathons. But I would definitely have to be committed like I haven't been before. There's the seven continents club...running a marathon in each of the continents. I've got 3 down...and honestly I would sign up for 3 additional ones easily if I didn't have Antarctica hanging out there. Don't get me wrong - I am actually not bothered by the extreme temps. I have trained in sub zero weather in Michigan and I actually believe I could push myself through that with proper training. The problem is I am extremely motion sick and I have been told by those who have done it that it is a ROUGH ride on the boat to get there. It's apparently home to some of the worst seas in the world. And, only runners are allowed to go. So I would have to say goodbye to my husband in South America, where he would wait for me for many days to return. I just do NOT like the sound of that at all. In the reflective state I've been in though, I've had some revelations. When I look back on my favorite races...they have not been my PR races. I definitely enjoy the experiences the most and the feeling I have when people tell me that they've become inspired to start running or try to reach a new distance. So right now, I'm leaning toward trying to become a guide for a visually impaired or physically impaired runner. I love the idea of helping someone accomplish their own goal, and I've now done so many that I am confident that I can help someone reach that finish line. I think part of this has come from the couple of times I've coached Girls on the Run. I love, love seeing the sense of accomplishment on the girls' faces when they complete the 5K at the end of the season. Being witness to that is life enriching.

So, for the time being I'm going to keep enjoying my runs with my friends and think a little more seriously about what I am going to sign up for next. I know that subconsciously I must be gearing up because I've started wearing my watch again....

  

  

Boston Part 2: The Journey to the Finish Line

Holy shit it's hot. That's the first thought I had when I stepped off the bus into the sunshine to head to the starting corrals. I tried telling myself I was calm and collected, but when Jenna and I got to the security checkpoint I blurted "OMG MY FUEL!!" I had left all of my fuel on the bus (not something a calm and collected person does). She graciously offered to go back with me to get it, and by the time we got back, we were the two very. last. people. to go into the corrals. Of the entire Boston Marathon. We said we'd look out for each other and went off to get in our own corrals with no time to spare. Right as I walked up to my overflow section we were off.

When I start running my nerves usually dissipate pretty fast. It's like my mind says "Oh yes, this. I love this. I know this. I am this." I started off nice and slow and was absorbing everything around me. I don't usually analyze marathon courses before I run them (except for elevation), so I didn't really know that the course goes through some quaint New England towns on the way into Boston until late in my training. The other Abbott World Marathon Majors are very urban. This was delightful and intimate...like a 4th of July parade with families lining the streets, kids with wagons handing out treats, American flags waving. I heard the course was deceivingly hard because of the downhills (16 miles of them within the 26.2). Ever since running Big Sur I've never been too worked up over hills, but I admit I felt that steep decline immediately and I was glad my plan was to take it easy.

Around the 8K mark, I distinctly remember thinking I felt like I normally do much farther into a run, like 16 miles or so, with respect to feeling like I needed to conserve energy. So I made a concerted effort to stop at every single water stop, which was every mile, to put water on my head and keep cool. I found a woman holding out a baggie of ice, and I went over to her and thanked her profusely and proceeded to put it in my sports bra (tip for the ladies - you can thank me on your next hot long run). The crowds through the towns were amazing. Not in volume per se - though there were always a lot of people - but in their attitude and enthusiasm. Almost everyone was handing out something. Oranges, water, Gatorade, candy, pretzels, you name it. There were thousands of little hands to high five and people were constantly cheering your name. Because the spectators were so close, they were looking you in the eye when they cheered - like they were there to specifically support you at that minute. I heard several versions of "Summah, lookin good sweethaaaaht" with corresponding fist pumps. I was so grateful for every single one.

I was still maintaining my slow and steady pace (10-10:15 not including my stops) through the half and was getting excited because I was feeling pretty good and managing to keep any heat related nausea away. This was a big change in the race for me. With fear of the heat waning, I was really starting to think about the experience, and my journey with all the majors, and my emotions started really kicking into gear. I am running the Boston Marathon! It's already over half way done, I really need to slow down more and enjoy! I am really going to finish all the majors today! I can't wait to see my family! I saw a guy waving a huge Union Jack flag and I started thinking about the London Marathon in 2014. My parents were supposed to be there with us. But my dad, who is English, became very ill and underwent heart surgery just before we left. There were complications after we were gone, and unbeknownst to me at the time, he was in a coma during that race. I knew something was wrong by the abbreviated texts I was getting from my sister and mom. I ran that race with my heart filled with sadness and fear. Sadness that he wasn't there to see me finish among all the huge Union Jacks that line the last quarter mile and fear that he had died, and they didn't want to tell me until after the race. But today, he was here. Waiting for me at the finish in Boston. My heart swelled with gratitude and tears started flowing down my cheeks.

I had a bit of a distraction after this point, when my old water bottle started leaking. I had to stop and have a volunteer help me try and get the lid on tight enough (the threading had worn down from years of use). I only had one packet of powder left for 12 more miles. Yikes. But this awesome guy spent about 5 minutes with me testing it out and making sure I was good to go. And off I went, with a big perk in mental energy because I was coming up on where my husband,, sister and niece were waiting.

The hubs

One of my nieces

Spotting family members is always so exciting and it's even more fun when your sister is an excitable person anyway. I saw them immediately and started jumping up and down. I went over to talk to them for a couple minutes and give sweaty hugs. They told me to look for them again around heartbreak hill, and wished me luck for the next few miles.

I enjoyed the course some more: slapping hands, taking a long stem rose, and taking advantage of hoses that had been set up. I was feeling pretty great all things considered (no surprise twangs of pain from racing 7 weeks prior, and no nausea at all from the sun). I was entering the "Newton Hills" capped by Heartbreak at mile 21, so often mentioned in Boston Marathon discourse. Truth be told....I had no problems at all with these hills. They really were not that bad. Perhaps that's because I was not attempting to run at my normal pace...but I got through them with ease and saw my family again. This time, I was a soppy mess, It was a downhill stretch to the finish 5 miles ahead and I felt fine. It was all sinking in. This was the hour. Years of training. Years of sacrifice. Down to this hour.

I ran those miles half skipping with joy and half slumped over wiping tears away. The last mile I had my hands up in the air, waving at the crowds which were now huge through the streets in Boston. The cheers became a steady roar and I saw the turn to Boylston Street ahead of me. I am not positive, but I feel pretty certain I was screaming with excitement from the time I saw the finish line up ahead until I crossed it. I ran right through and saw my parents, other niece and kids waiting for me just past the finish line. I ran right up to them before getting my medal or anything. My mom was crying, my kids and niece were screaming and my dad was laughing and generally shaking his head.

Unfiltered emotion after crossing the finish and running into the arms of my family

What a moment. I've crossed many finish lines before, but there was really nothing like this day. Raising money for charity and having so many people support me along the way, having my family all come to Boston, finishing all six majors. There isn't any combination of black letters I can compile that would accurately convey what that felt like.

When I was interviewed for the Lansing State Journal article I mentioned in my first Boston post I was telling the journalist, Dawn, how I really wanted to show my girls what it was like to set big goals. And she added "and achieve them." It caught me off guard then and made me kind of smile. I hadn't really thought about that part. Sometimes you set big goals and you fall short. That's ok. There are lessons in those experiences too. But not this day. This was a day of happy endings. And I hope that story line helps them dream their own big dreams some day.

My crew. And all my World Marathon Major medals. And pizza. And beer.

Boston Part 1: Getting to the Starting Line

Having your local newspaper do a write-up on your years-long goal of completing all six Abbott World Marathon Majors, one week before the last race is not a way to calm your nerves. But, it totally happened before I was set to run the B.A.A. Boston Marathon as part of Meb's Team. I mean, I didn't think I would not actually finish. My race plan was to soak it in and run slow anyway, after PR'ing 7 weeks prior. But, as usual no matter how many of these I do, my pre-race nerves started kicking in. And the article in the Lansing State Journal added some additional considerations. "What if this is the ONLY marathon I somehow can't finish?" I mean, wow. That would really suck. Not only was my whole family coming to Boston (presumably to see me actually, you know, finish) but now I had a LOT of other people who were suddenly very aware of this goal of mine. Being an Abbott WMM Ambassador has pushed me out of my comfort zone in that respect, in order to help spread the word about how great this series is, but it's not typically my M.O.

Alas, I had a busy few days at work, and a little soiree my running buddies had for me at a local restaurant. This all helped keep me relatively sane before I flew out to Boston early Friday.  I left a day before my husband and kids because as part of the Charity Teams family, I wanted to attend our party at the Harvard Club with all of our charity VIPs, meet my teammates who I've gotten to know online, and get my singlet.

We call ourselves the EL bad ass racing mamas

From the time I landed Friday morning in Boston to the moment I started running Monday, the name of the game was keeping it together. Walking into the airport hit me in a very emotional way. There were banners hanging everywhere and runners wearing past years' jackets all over. This was it. I was a roller coaster: thankful, proud, terrified, confident, intimidated and back again.  The whole city was adorned in blue and yellow - the colors of the marathon. Everyone was talking about it and celebrating. Everywhere I went I was asked "Are you running Monday?!?" followed by loads of hearty high fives, well wishes, and praise. The people of Boston completely embrace this event. It is as if this event is indistinguishable from the city. It IS the city. And my participation made me part of it, too. And wow, was that cool to experience.

Friday's Charity Teams Party was, without a doubt, the highlight in the days leading up to the race. I went with a woman whom I met from another charity team, after she and I met up to run 3 easy miles together earlier that day. It was a dress-up kind of event in a beautiful space, with all of the runners who helped raise over $3 million for smaller charities.

Swanky

One of my favorite moments was when Tatyana McFadden, a pro-wheeler champion many times over, arrived. I met her in Tokyo because we were in the same hotel and my kids became huge fans because she is amazingly kind and open. I didn't want to embarrass myself and rush over to her immediately, so I waited til she got closer and started with "Hi! I met you in Tokyo!" And do you know what happened next? She said "Yes! This is IT! You're finishing the circuit! Congratulations!" My mouth dropped. She remembered that? Two thoughts flashed in my mind: she recalled this because I was an annoying slightly-stalkerish fan, or we're totally going to be friends. I'm still not sure which it is. But she DID like my tweet of our picture after we talked a few times more that night...just saying.

Don't we look like friends?

MEB!!!

As if it couldn't get better - Meb came in. When you run for one of the VIP's, you get to go into a private room and just hang out with them for a while. Its pretty much fantastic. Mark Wahlberg was there, Gronk from the Patriots and others. One of my teammates said, "Meb, Summer trains in the cold and she's worried about the heat." So he took my arms and showed me where to put cold water and gave me some pointers. It's not every day you get advice from an Olympian. We took a lot of pictures, talked about how his training for Rio was going and what he was planning after the Olympics (two more competitive marathons, but he would only tell us one of them). Before I knew it, it was 11pm and time to get some rest before my family showed up on Saturday.

Team MEB with the man himself and Boston Marathon Race Director Dave McGillivray

Saturday and Sunday sort of blend in together but the best thing was my crew-run-run arriving into town. First was my husband and my 3 girls, followed a few hours later by my parents, my sister and two nieces. I was so happy they were there. Every minute. I told my sister I needed her help because I was on the verge of spiraling with nerves, and my husband had reached his saturation point with positive vibes. She delivered with a barrage of texts and hugs and smiles and basically kept me on the straight and narrow.

Duck Boat Tours, obviously

We went to the expo, but honestly that was a blip in the weekend because it was such a madhouse, we had to get our kids out of there. The only thing we did after getting my bib and some swag, was go to the Abbott booth to meet some other Ambassadors and staff (which was great). There, I had another moment of emotion when I saw the "wall" they created. As part of their booth, they had a list of all the Six Star Finishers with their countries next to it. Oh boy. More excitement. More reality. More tears welling up. I am really doing this.

The Wall

Ian Hook, London Marathon Board Member also finishing 6 Stars!

As the weekend went on, the finality of the forecast was sinking in. Full sun and 70 degrees at the start time of 11:15am. On a course with no shade. For someone who ran in snow with pelting ice balls in her face on her last long run 7 days prior. I truly believe this was the bulk of where my nerves were coming from (my husband would vehemently disagree). But I've thrown up in 3 marathons from overheating and let me tell you - it is NOT fun. The good news was that the temp was supposed to drop  5-10 degrees for the last 5 miles as we got into Boston, so I started thinking" ok, if you can prevent yourself from overheating the first 20 miles, you'll be fine after that." And then I realized - that just sounds so crazy. But it was true. That was my plan.

When I really decided to pursue this goal, it was because I wanted to be an example to my daughters. I genuinely believe that they will learn 10 times more from what you do than what you say. And I want to raise 3 women who are capable of setting big goals, facing the fears that come with those, and taking on the challenge anyway. I starting thinking that maintaining my training for years to run marathons around the world seemed like an extreme way to model bravery - but I was down to 24 hours to completion, there was no going back now.

Sunday evening I struggled to eat my pasta, though I loved being at dinner with my family.
A decent nights sleep was interrupted by a very early alarm, and I started feeling normalcy as I put my running clothes on to head out to the Charity Teams buses at 5:30am. We loaded up at 5:45am for the drive out to Hopkinton, 26 miles outside of the city. Being around other runners is always fun on marathon mornings, but this was a little different. We had 5 1/2 hours before our wave started. The roads close early in the city where the starting line is located - so we had a lot of time to kill on the bus and I had to adjust my fuel intake because that was time for two small meals, rather than one.

6am and cool. A GOOD time to run a marathon.

I had some great people next to me, including a young woman from New York, Jenna, who I adore because she's totally kick-ass. This was her first marathon and her attitude totally helped me de-stress. She said (completely seriously) "yeah, my biggest problem is...I don't really like to run very far." What?! I couldn't stop laughing. She admitted she got through her 20 miler with running like 2 days a week (though she's an avid weight lifter), so she figured "what's 6 more?" Honestly. It helped me remind myself that I wanted to enjoy this race. I wasn't sure I'd ever get the chance to run Boston again, and I was going to soak in everything I could. I reminded myself, I've never regretted starting too slow, only too fast. After writing our names on our arms (and a small reminder on my wrist) we looked at our watches. It was 10:45. It was time to do this.

Pump up the Jam

It's about that time for me to start getting my race day plans together. I'm down to less than 2 weeks until the B.A.A. Boston Marathon and getting antsy in my taper, so I try to occupy myself with starting to prep. This includes a long list of things ranging from painting my toenails if they are bruised, to getting my haircut if my pony tail is too long and is chafing the area between my shoulder blades (yes, that is a real thing), to deciding if I'm going to listen to music and selecting my playlist.

If you are new to this hobby, you may not know that this topic can be quite a hot one among marathoners. Some people feel strongly that listening to music completely detracts from the race experience and puts yourself and fellow runners in danger since you can't hear pleas to watch out or other instructions or alerts. Others feel that music can really provide you with a boost of energy when you need it and be a comforting part of your routine that helps you stay calm and focused.

I have run the gamut on this issue from not even taking music, all the way to hitting "play" before I even cross the starting line. For me, it completely depends on the race and how I foresee it playing out.

But let me get this out of the way: Check the rules. I always obey the rules. Never take music if it is not allowed. Okay, moving on....

I didn't take music to my very first marathon because my husband was running it next to me, and that would just be rude. I also never considered it when I ran the 2015 Big Sur Marathon for two reasons. First, I was pacing my best friend in her first marathon (again...rude. Although it would have been funny to see her reaction if I would have just popped in some ear buds in the middle of her talking...dang it, missed opportunity).  And second, that race is an experience of unparalleled natural beauty. I really wanted to soak in all the sights and sounds of that course. I'm so glad I did. The classical piano you hear through the valley  once you crest Hurricane Point is one of the most memorable marathon moments I've had.

But there have been times when I know I needed some beats and I didn't hesitate to bust them out early. One of them was the 2014 TCS New York City Marathon. I was injured for this race and I had been practically living in my Doctors office for days getting stretched, taped, iced - you name it -leading up to this thing. Prior to the race I wasn't able to run more than 2 miles without needing to stop. I was worried I was going to be out on this course All. Day. Long. I put the world's longest playlist together and right after I heard the classical "New York, New York" play at the start, I started up "No Sleep Til Brooklyn" and all the rest to get my mind focused on getting to the end. I needed the company.

Me, at the NY Finish, thinking "Oh thank God I made it!" It actually went much better than I expected, but do you see the suitcase of gear I am sporting around my waist? I had packed for an extended stay!

I also used music through the entire Paris Marathon in 2014 for a completely different result. That was my first back to back experience (running two marathons in a short amount of time). I was doing the Chunnel Challenge, running Paris one Sunday and the Virgin Money London Marathon the following Sunday. I had a strategy to run that first race 1-2 minutes slower per mile than my normal pace. I know this sounds like a dream, but I assure you it's actually a tough task. I experimented at home and realized that if I listened to classical music, I naturally slowed down. So, I fired up some french classics and Vivaldi and I ran past all the sights of Paris in bliss. Really, I can't imagine not having done that. It added so much richness, and to this day it remains my favorite marathon experience start to finish (and it worked, btw).

Now, usually I land somewhere in the middle. My preferable habit is to create a new playlist for each race (it personalizes the experience, which I dig) and take it with me...only to pull it out when I really need a boost. The truth is, I do find my pace picks up when I'm listening to one of my fav's (Madonna's Ray of Light has to be #1 and it is on every playlist) so if I'm noticing a dip in the second half of the race - I don't hesitate to put in the ear buds. But I do try to only use one side. I find this helps me pay attention to crowds or "pardon me" moments and I still get to absorb some of the crowd. And, the crowd is a huge part of why I love doing the Abbott World Marathon Majors, so I definitely wouldn't want to completely short change that part of it.

So if you are deciding whether to pump up your jam, think about how you envision your race day going and whether you've relied heavily on music in your training or not. Consider trying out just using one side of your ear buds. You will want to practice though, because it takes time to figure out how to wrap that extra chord around your race outfit!

Until next time....

3 Weeks: Prepping to Run Boston with Meb's Team

Next month I'll be shaking out my arms in the starting corral of the 120th B.A.A. Boston Marathon, getting ready to finish my sixth (and last!) of the Abbott World Marathon Majors. I can hardly believe it, even as I type that sentence. But the feelings I have about this race are so much more intense than I ever expected. Richer. More fulfilling. I am a charity runner. And I am so immensely grateful.

Ahhh! This came this weekend!

I did not expect this. In fact, as recently as a year ago, I questioned running for charity. I felt like people would think I was "cheating" because I didn't gain entry through qualifying. My husband helped me change my perspective on a date night by asking me what my goal was. Running all the majors was the answer. This was a rhetorical question, and it annoyed me that he asked. But then he said "well, then who cares if you don't qualify? Qualifying has never been your goal. Your goal is to run it - so find a way to get in." This was true, but I hadn't ever viewed it that way. He finished by telling me I was giving up too easy, which helped spark my fire. He was right, I needed to find a way to reach my goal.

One of the beautiful things about marathoning is that it constantly changes your viewpoints. And the evolution I have had in the months since that dinner has been among the most significant I've experienced preparing for 26.2. I am running for the MEB Foundation - founded by marathon champion Meb Keflizighi, which empowers youth to "Maintain Excellent Balance" by providing excellent tools to lead healthy lifestyles, engage in academics and learn positive life skills through sports. (I am accepting donations through April 14th here!).

Meb's Team is one of the charities that is part of Charity Teams, an organization that helps smaller non-profits raise money through various marathon teams. Becoming a part of the Charity Teams family has been one of the coolest running experiences I've ever had. I've run marathons for charity before, but this a whole new playing field - as it should be for the most historic marathon in the world! It's a whole community, connected both online and in person. These runners and fundraisers are extremely supportive - meeting for long runs (lots of people even fly in for them!), sharing fundraising ideas, contributing to each others' fundraisers and just being incredibly supportive otherwise. You know what else they are? Dedicated. I've been impressed and inspired by their level of passion and the commitment they have to their responsibility to their charities. Being connected to them has given me such a greater respect for my own obligation. It is nothing to be taken lightly. And, it turns out it is also much harder than I expected

When I started the process of applying for a spot on Meb's Team, my focus was my own personal goal. Now, I've become acutely aware of how important our jobs are - helping raise funds for the wonderful work of these smaller charities which don't have the national recognition that bigger organizations enjoy. And, after spending months trying to further the MEB Foundation mission, soliciting donations and writing thank you cards I've realized how much good is around me. As people contribute, the notes of support and calls and texts have  made me realize just how many wonderful people by which I am surrounded. It's humbling. I am running for something other than myself, made possible by people other than myself. It's the complete opposite of how this started. It's difficult to find words to express how that makes me feel, but I've spent many hours on my runs in contemplative gratitude.

When I gear up on race day, I will be representing the MEB Foundation, Charity Teams, and all of those who have contributed. It is such an honor to have this be the culmination of my journey.

For those of you who want to run the Boston marathon, but are struggling with whether to apply for a charity spot, I would strongly encourage you do so. The charitable programs are a huge part of the marathon and its spirit. Last year the Boston Marathon raised over $15 million for various charities! If you're uncertain because of the commitment to raising at least $5,000, I would encourage you to do research ahead of time. Know which charities you could be emotionally invested in, because that will help you sustain the energy it takes to fulfill your commitment. Additionally, look at fundraising plans and events that others have done, and bring some initial ideas to your application. Look into local businesses or your employer, because many have matching programs.

If you're uncertain because you feel like this might be "cheating" like I did initially - let me set this straight right now. Charity runners are an important part of the Boston Marathon (and indeed, many other marathons!), and securing an entry through that means does not make you "less" than securing an entry with a qualifying time. Consider that the Boston Marathon didn't even have a qualifying standard until 1970, which is pretty recent for a race that is 120 year old! And, those times (and now cut offs within them) have changed over the years to manage the field. I mean to tell you this because just because you may not be able to achieve a time cut off at this particular point in history, you should not let it prevent you from experiencing the race. I know a few people who are qualifying purists, and if you are motivated by that external threshold - have at it! It's an amazing accomplishment! I may even try to reach it at some point in the future. But, I want to run all the majors. And, I don't know what the future holds. I'm almost 40 and not interested in postponing my dreams. So I'm going after it now.

Lucky for me, by taking this path I have gotten to know some amazing people who are doing some pretty fantastic things. It's gotten me thinking about how else I can turn my passion for running into helping others. My wheels are definitely turning, but I'm trying to stay focused on the task at hand for the next three weeks....

Right on Hereford. Left on Boylston.

Leaving My Monkey at the Monkey Park: My Tokyo Marathon Recap

It's been nearly a week since I ran the Tokyo Marathon, the first of the year in the Abbott World Marathon Majors Series. It still seems like a blur, and I can't decide if it's because of my swirling emotions or remnants of jet lag. Likely both.

This marathon was a completely different race for me in so many ways - all positive. For so many years I had tremendous misfortune in race day forecasts with several hot, slow experiences (and in one or two cases, probably dangerous). Over time, I just started believing I was not a great marathoner, even though I loved doing them. Back then, I ran a pace I was happy with (10 min/mile) during all my runs, but never even came close to a 4:30 marathon (4:22 is a 10 min per mile pace avg). I had no idea how much this would impact my psyche. But it did.

A few years ago, when my girls got bigger and I went vegan, I had more energy to run and I started getting faster. And my marathon times finally started improving. But here's the thing: I was still always running them significantly slower than I run at home. And it wasn't "the wall" either. I'd be off by 10 or more minutes at the half! Somehow, mentally I was quitting before I was giving myself a chance. I couldn't seem to break free. This summer, my fantastic amazing support crew (running partners, sister and bestie) helped me decide to really go for it at the BMW Berlin Marathon last September. All summer I trained hard (I am lovingly teased for my obsessive training mindset), using a 4 hour marathon plan. But I decided right before the race that going for 4 hours was too much of a stretch (my prior PR was 4:28) and was just going to try and break 4:15. I did - squeezing in at 4:14 and change. I was proud of how I executed my race plan, but I knew deep down I still didn't push myself. And, then I struggled to decide if I even cared. I've never been really interested in going faster. I run for peace of mind - I've always dreaded making it into another stressful thing in life.

Come October last year I had decided to focus on speed to give myself a break before the long runs for Tokyo started up again. And...low and behold....my long runs got even better (sub 9 min pace). Around January I decided, this was it. Just once I wanted to have a race that reflected what I was capable of. I was going for 4 hours. And this time - no excuses. I didn't care that I had to adjust to a 14 hour time change, or weather or whatever. That became my mantra: no excuses.

We flew to Japan 8 days before the race to go stay with family which we happen to have in Otsu, near Kyoto and do some sightseeing and adjust to the time (and culture) before our family of five ventured to Tokyo on our own. We saw some amazing sights, and logged many miles walking and climbing up mountains. One such mountain was to get to the Arashiyama Monkey Park. This was my favorite place on our trip...and I will spare details since this isn't a family travel blog, but you get to walk and sit with monkeys out in their environment. People, it is even cooler than it sounds. I remember on the walk down the mountain that familiar feeling crept in "I'm so exhausted, my legs are spent. But this trip is amazing. I'll just run the marathon for fun. I'd rather have these experiences." But somehow a different voice was there...telling me that was crazy talk. I started to feel very calm and confident. I can't tell you why, but I just felt different.

In Tokyo we immediately went to the race expo to get all my "stuff" and in Tokyo, there is a separate area for runners only to get their bibs, which felt cool.

My family waved me off and as I got my bib the volunteers all cheered. This is my biggest observation of my Tokyo marathon experience - that enthusiasm by the volunteers was absolutely second to none. Thousands of people, who seemed genuinely excited for all these complete strangers. I mean, how is that possible?? I proceeded through the expo after re-joining my fam and noticed the huge beautiful Abbott World Marathon Majors entry - displaying the new Six Star Finisher Medal!

After taking a dozen pictures, we were out pretty quick. The gear and gifts were really cool and unique, but after years of marathoning, there isn't much I really need. So I managed to escape without spending a fortune.

The next few days were filled with more amazing sights and lots of italian food (total cop outs on that front) and more...calmness. I remember the night before the race texting my best friend that I felt ready to run. Usually I am filled with anxiety.

The entire trip had been cool (40-45 degrees) and cloudy. My absolute favorite running weather. But race day popped up to a forecast of upper 50s and full sun. Joy. The streak continues.

Totally rocking the shirt my sister got me, based on my childhood obsession.

The start was very busy, but super easy to navigate considering I know zero Japanese. I found out a week before the race that I couldn't carry my handheld water bottle, so I had all my fuel packets in my arm band and a handheld zip pouch. Well, that was a "no-go" I wasn't prepared for and I had to toss my little zip bag before getting into my corral. With no extra pockets, I stuffed all my fuel in my bra. Yes, two full size bars, 12 shot blocks and a baggie of salt. But still, I was rolling with the punches.

I had my targeted times on a piece of paper for various kilometer markers on my arm and as I watched the opening ceremony on the jumbo screens at the start, I just kept thinking, "do not give up on yourself." My first mile was 45 seconds slower than I wanted (yikes! already?) because I was in a swarm of people, but I immediately felt like:

(How I looked in my head)

I started running faster, weaving between the hundreds of people around me. Every 5 to 8K I would look at my watch and notice I was always within 60 seconds on either side and feeling pretty good. The course had some good shaded spots because of all the skyscrapers, so even though the sun was out in full force and the temp was rising, I would get a break for a stretch and perk back up. Once I got through the first 28K on target, my confidence was growing. I had done it - I had gone for it. Part of me didn't even care if I tanked at the end because for nearly 20 miles I ran the race I wanted to, and this was gravy. Then I hit the 32K mark and started thinking I WAS actually going to break 4 hours. I was convinced. I will tell you - the last part was hard in ways I didn't expect. In the last 10K of a marathon, people start walking or stopping. And I was within seconds of my pace to meet my goal...and suddenly having people stop in front of you and disrupt your pace was a challenge I'd never been bothered by before. Also, they no longer run through the water stops, so you are banging into a LOT more people all of the sudden, and I found myself getting rabid about getting around people.


Also I knew the ONLY hills in this race were all in the last 5K. I knew I had to push.

Course elevation: Looks easy right? Those last hills are deceiving let me tell you...

When you run a big race you ALWAYS run longer than 26.2. You pick up distance weaving to water stops, around wide curves, etc. And sure enough I hit 26.2 at 3:57 and some on my watch, but that was ok...I had planned for it. I finally saw the finish line but my watch was at 3:58:30 now and I was worried I wouldn't get there in time. I started sprinting as fast as I could and my hat flew off right as my foot crossed the first finish mat. I knew I was within a minute of 4:00 on either side but I wasn't sure. I immediately started crying. I was so raw. I had been so focused and ran so well up to the last 1-2K, how could I have missed it? I mean, hills and sun and fatigue....but, you know, besides that. I felt like I would never run that well for 26.2 miles again, and I might have blown it.

It was a long walk through the finish area (maybe 1-2 miles) and when I saw my girls and husband they gave me a big hug. I had been texting my husband so he already knew I was in a semi-frantic state, so he cheered me up by saying "Hey - it's not like you barely missed winning the thing." Truth.

A day later I got the official result: 4:00:30. A part of me couldn't believe I was that close and couldn't pull off just breaking that 4 hour mark, but that faded pretty quickly and I started beaming with joy. I did it. I ran a 4 hour marathon. But more than the time - I found a space in my head that let me just...go. I didn't give up or let all those little things along the way (I had to stop after dropping fuel once, I got knocked over sideways once, etc) give me a reason to slow down or quit pushing. That feeling...is so much better than I even imagined it would be. The monkey is officially off the back.

For my hard core running friends, my favorite things list:
1. Volunteers. Absolutely amazing from first interaction to the last. On the way to the shuttles at the finish, they make a tunnel and give you high fives on both sides like you are the winner!
2. Aforementioned shuttles. The finish is a long way away and the buses at the end are a comfy, easy way to get back. And your whole family gets to ride as long as they have the stickers.
3. Course profile. Those last few hills feel pretty big, but the course is a dream before that.
4. The pain spray thing they give you after they give you sports drink at the finish. It's amazing. Every race in the world should do this! A little aerosol bottle of a pain medicine for your aching body.
5. Finisher towels! LOVE! So much better than a mylar and totally usable at home!

Not so great observation:
When you run for a time that pushes you, you don't pay attention to the experience. This made me quite sad because after the race I saw pictures of amazing entertainment that I had completely missed.    Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't change my outcome - but destination races are amazing experiences and so perhaps smelling the roses in the other ones was a blessing in its own right.

On to Boston....