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....