Glass City Marathon Part 2 - Breaking 4 Hours

Hearing a great song before a marathon can't erase inflamed muscles or missed weeks of training, as I wrote in Part 1 of my race recap. So I can't pretend that I knew when I heard "Born to Run" twice the night before I ran the Glass City Marathon that I was going to have a pretty big PR. But, it did make me think about how much I love to do this. And that maybe I shouldn't be so quick to rule myself out.

I pounced out of bed pretty quickly at 5am, even though I only managed about 4 1/2 hours of sleep. I still had about 30 minutes of driving to do, so my plan was to get out of the hotel by 5:30 and be at the expo around 6am - one hour before the start. In 17 marathons, I have never showed up for my bib on race day and I will tell you - I'm not likely to do that again. I was a bit of a mess. I was grabbing my fuel out of my overnight bag, dopping it all over the place by my minivan in the parking ramp. I was getting flustered and starting to look at the clock. Thank goodness the University of Toledo campus is pretty small (but really quite lovely) so I was able to get in and out quickly and get to the start line with 30 minutes to use the port-o-potties.

It was my favorite running temperature. Low 40s. It was going to rise up to mid-upper 50s and there was not a cloud in the sky. I was thankful for the early start - so the sun would be low in the sky for the vast majority of the race. I found the 3:50 pacer and wiggled my way next to him. He was with the 1:55 half marathon pacer, and I realized in short order that we were all running together until the 9 mile marker. The marathon relay was also running alongside the full marathon. Typically I don't really like this, because when you're at like, mile 19 and a relay runner hops in fresh as a daisy running next to you - it can be reallllly irritating. But it worked in this race. It actually made the course come alive. The spectators were great for having such a small full marathon cohort. There is no doubt the half and relay racers and their fans made the difference. This has the feel of a much larger marathon, which I like.

The first several miles were uneventful. I was running comfortably, enjoying the scenery. It was a pretty course - past some beautiful historic homes and on the city's wide paved trail system. I met a guy named Kevin, from Toledo, who had run this race 3 times before. He talked to me about the course and we chatted about our prior races and PRs. He was very calm and running smooth and easy. I think I synced right up with him - I felt like our pace was a breeze. I was feeling great.

Shortly before the halfway point he smirked at me "you're totally going to break 4 hours today." I didn't really think about my response, I just said "well, we'll see how I hold up. But, who knows maybe today is my day." I could feel my confidence growing, but trying not to get too confident because there was still a long way to go. We crossed the half point right on target and kept cruising toward the 30K mark, which was now my focus. In my past races, I have struggled to keep pace in the second half. Since I was feeling good - I really wanted to get that 30K PR and boost my confidence that I had made some strides. I still half wondered if my body was going to hold up, but I was close enough that I was going to push to that point at a minimum.

Most of the course was on a trail like this.

Around mile 16, there was a group of people cheering and the started blaring the Rocky theme song. I hadn't thought about my race in Philly all day to this point. And when I heard that song, I got a little adrenaline boost. That race caused me a lot of mental torment in the last several months. I signed up for this race to put it behind me and get the time I trained so hard for. I was 16 miles in and feeling great. That moment was when I told myself I was going to push.

At the 30K mark, I was 3 minutes ahead of my prior in-marathon best to that point (this was the first time I really looked at my watch besides a check at the half way point). I was still feeling remarkably good. We got to the 20 mile marker and again...I still felt good. It was starting to get harder, as it does, but it was typical pain - nothing more. Just a 10K to go.

I was still hanging with the pacer group through all of this, but by this point Kevin was a foot or two in front of me, so we had stopped talking. Every so often, he would peek over his shoulder, see me there, and give me a thumbs up. I really loved feeling like he was pulling me along. Right at the 23 mile marker, I felt my hamstring start to seize. Oh boy. Here it was. The moment of truth. I had a 5K to go, and I was on pace for a big PR. This is a hard place mentally in a race. You have to determine how much you still need to push vs. what will happen if you push too hard. I didn't want to cramp up and end up stopping. I thought that would ruin my flow. I thought if I stayed with the pacer group, that might happen. So I decided to slow down a little bit but try to keep them in my sight for the last 3 miles.

The exact moment I turned the last corner and saw the clock at the finish line up ahead

Now I started looking at my watch. Mile 24 - 9:14. This was about 20-25 seconds slower than I had been running, but helped my leg. It was starting to really hurt, but the seizing stopped. I could still see my pacer group. The adrenaline brought me up to 9:10 for mile 25. At this point, I passed a group of women who were playing Salt-n-Pepa "Push It" and I threw my hands up and wiggled my hips, and they gave me cold water and a huge send off for the last mile. At this point, I had it. I knew I had it. And now, I didn't want to slow down. I pushed up closer to a 9 minute pace again as I headed in toward the finish chute. When I saw the clock, I cried for about 3 seconds in disbelief, then it was pure joy. It felt like a dream. It happened. I didn't hang on, and just break 4 hours...I really ran the pace I trained for (twice), and ended up with a 3:53:11 marathon PR. Over 7 minutes off my time in Tokyo last year.

Absolute Joy

Walking through the baggage claim and food area, I felt amazing. I never needed to sit down and I didn't feel light headed, which has happened to me many times before. I have thought for the last several days about what was different and I can't exactly say. I definitely had less pressure on myself, but beyond that it was a nice day and course. And, even though I botched this training program - it was my second time through it so I guess you could say I really had been training for this pace since last August.

As for this specific race, I would put it high on a runner's list. They have some amazing swag and the course if fast and flat with a surprising amount of crowd support. They also have lots of perks for first time marathoners, which I thought was very cool.

The medal is HUGE!!!!

As for me...I've been basking a bit in the happiness of achieving a goal that I didn't expect on that day. The very night I got home, my husband started encouraging me to set my sights on a Boston qualifying time. I'm 8 minutes away. I shrugged and told him this was good enough right now, and I just didn't know if I could shave another chunk that big. But, he told me something I've come to know as truth - I can do it. There was a time many, many years ago I wanted to finish a marathon. Then break 5 hours, then 4:30, then 4:15, and finally 4:00. It has taken me many years, through varying life stages and training plans, but I've gotten there.

If you're reading this and considering running a marathon, or you're only done a few, or already done many, and wonder if you can ever reach a certain time goal, let me reassure you. It may not happen overnight, but you can get there if you want to. But you need to commit to the "want."

Cheers to the start of running season! I'm doing some physical therapy, cross training and thinking. Thinking about whether I'm ready to "want" a BQ....

Solitary Confinement: A botched training program, an injury and mental anguish leading up to my best marathon

I'm a chatty person. So when I am quiet - it's certainly a sign that I'm struggling in some way. My blogging hiatus has been a product of this. I have had so many thoughts swirling in my mind the last few months, I just couldn't manage to put them in a clear, communicative pattern. I apologize for that - I've had people ask me many questions about marathoning lately and I planned to blog on certain topics. But I just needed to retreat into myself for a while.

Last November I had an extremely disappointing marathon in Philadelphia, after training the hardest I ever had - aiming to solidly break 4 hours. Immediately afterward, I went into fighter mode. I hate missing goals and the disappointment that comes with it. Lucky for me - there was another goal right around the corner. My running friends and I had a goal of running 6000 miles in 2016, but the week after running Philly our team record keeper suggested that we had a good attempt, but weren't going to make it. One of our friends had been out of commission basically right after we set the goal - so we had to make up for most of her miles among us. I couldn't wrap my brain around another failed outcome. I texted them and encouraged everyone to push - that we could do it...we WOULD do it. To my surprise - everyone jumped in. Everyone put in extra miles and we hit 6000 miles running together the week before New Years - and celebrated with a delightful brunch. It was so fun and rewarding.

Our crew. I can't imagine my life without these women!

Unfortunately, pushing myself almost immediately post-marathon caused that hamstring and piriformis to start flaring. So, while I loved the challenge, it really wasn't great for me physically. And, now...I had to start training again. Because another little thing I did in my anger post-Philly was sign up for a spring marathon. I started regretting this very shortly after signing up. In January, during one of my every-six-week Dr visits, I conceded to go to physical therapy to address this lingering injury. The problem was - I couldn't get in until mid-April. Three days before that spring marathon. So, I decided just to train as much as I could and see where it took me....

It took me to a pretty ugly place. None of my friends were training for any specific race, so I had to do my speed and tempo runs on my own. Because it was winter, and I don't run alone in the dark, this meant these workouts were being done early, in the dark, in my garage on my treadmill. Staring at a wall. For up to 11 miles each session. It was misery and my mental state was suffering. My oldest daughter was having to get ready for school on her own some days, because I wasn't done with my workouts when she was getting up at 6:40am. I was feeling guilty and questioning if I had crossed over from being a role model for the girls to being a bad mom.

I would get off this thing, a dripping sweaty mess and whisper "I hate you..."

My leg and butt were burning, and I was hating my workouts. But I was knocking them off, one at a time through February, March and April. Quietly - without really telling anyone about this coming race. My silence was two-fold. Partly because I needed to be alone with my thoughts and I just didn't want to talk about how my training was going and what I was aiming for, etc. And partly because I wasn't sure if I was going to actually go and run it. I knew I was pushing a little harder than I should and that any given week, I might realize I was over the line and abort the mission. It really was a week to week decision.

I was using Hanson's Marathon Method for the second time...and I was a little less than 6 weeks out from my race day when I started seeing Facebook posts from friends about tapering for Boston. Tapering? My race was right after Boston. I wasn't even close to tapering. My stomach sunk. I was off. I got out my book and the calendar and confirmed - instead of having 5 1/2 weeks to go, I only had 3 1/2 weeks. I thought I was entering my toughest 2 1/2 weeks of training but suddenly I had to skip them. It was another blow. I talked to my husband more earnestly about stopping my training and backing out. He encouraged me to just run it. His reasoning was that even though I might not be in my best shape, I would no doubt finish and it would be my 10th state if I ever decided to run all 50. That was compelling enough to keep me in. I decided to stick with it and just adjust my goals.

I determined that my three goals were:
1. Stick with the 3:50 pacer through the halfway point.  I had been able to get through about 10 miles each run before my injury was very painful. I was pretty confident I could manage this.
2. Pending how I felt at the halfway point, try to break my 30K (18.6 miles) time during a marathon. I reasoned that if I improved my 3rd quarter performance, that could really motivate me for the fall when hopefully I'd be healthier and in a better position to push for a PR.
3. Try to run slow versus walk when I had to back off my goal pace. This had nothing to do with a "running" goal. I was travelling to this race by myself and wanted to get back at a decent time. It was a two hour drive from my home, and I didn't want to drag this thing out!

Race weekend I was pretty calm. Saturday evening, our family went to see the symphony "Star Wars and Beyond: The Music of John Williams," something I had been anticipating for months. I didn't really think about the fact that I was going to be driving til midnight only to get up and torture myself the next day.

After the concert, I kissed my kids and husband goodbye, read a few sweet encouraging texts from my running friends, and started the drive down towards Toledo, still pretty melancholy. About 30 minutes from my hotel, I heard the song "Born to Run" by Bruce Springsteen on the radio. What were the odds? That song is a classic race day song that blares over speakers nationwide before runners toe the line. I got a little teary eyed. I love race day and I associate that song with all the warm and fuzzies that go along with it. Then, about 10 minutes later, I changed the channel. And it came on....again. I swear to you in this moment, something changed. It was a sign. I felt sure this was a sign.

The last few months had been rough. I didn't feel good and I screwed up my training plan for the first time ever. But that was behind me. I forgot about it all. It was almost...race day!! And baby...I was born to run.

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.