QC's 2021 Recap

It’s 9 days early to post a recap, but my head is thinking about wrapping 2021 up already. Plus, I don’t have any grandiose last minute plans to race or do adventure runs in the next week. Well, take that back, I want to go do an adventure run, but logistics just seem too complicated without a willing and able partner.


Anyway, back to the recap. I did a lot of really rad stuff this year. And different stuff which always makes the year seem extra great when I look back and feel proud about things for different reasons. As a lifelong runner, it gets pretty hard to PR year over year so finding other goals has kept me from feeling like I’m stuck on a plateau.


January


In January, I was racking up the weekly miles in my first-ever attempt to run 100 miles in a training week. I’d run 100 miles in a week before, but always with a race on the schedule. I wanted to hit this arbitrary mark outside racing and respect the discipline it took to manage those miles while staying injury-free, working, etc. The actual week itself went off smashingly.

As with most things that require a process, it was the 70-80 mile weeks leading up to it that felt the most difficult. Kind of like being deep in a training cycle, but the 100 mile week was the “race” instead of an actual race.


I was really enjoying all the “short” adventure runs with the RT group on the weekends during this time as a break from the monotonous road miles from the week. We did a 50k along the AT/DRT for New Year’s, a winter wonderland run around Springer Mountain, a snowy/icy run up to Blood Mountain, and a new-to-me loop in the Cohuttas.

 

February


After the 100 mile week buildup, I was ready to put my fitness to good use and set my sights on the Silver Comet FKT. When Eli asked me about it in late 2020, I wasn’t in a place to try to go after it yet myself, but was happy to crew his group’s effort. Unbeknownst to me, I also picked up a ton of intel along the way and used that when planning my own attempt. The weather was looking pretty dicey in the days leading up to it (re: cold & rainy), but I was determined to make a go for it unless it looked downright awful (re: downpour).


Luckily, it never rained on the day of the attempt. It was cloudy and kind of misty, but it was pretty perfect all things considered. The RT crew came out and offered massive support for me, crewing and pacing the entire stretch. Aaron even biked the entire thing next to me, foreshadowing the many hours we would spend suffering together in the spring.


My first goal was to get the FKT which seemed incredibly reasonable given my prior performances at the distance, but I also wanted to try to get under 10 hours and cut off as much time under that as I could. I finished in 9:47:18, fully spent and very satisfied.

I spent the remainder of February recovering and running easy, enjoying a little down time after a couple of big efforts. The RT group went to NC for Cassy’s 30th weekend and it was a perfect 48 hours of running, eating, drinking, and shenanigans.

March


In early March, a small group was running the Georgia section of the Bartram trail and I hopped on their adventure. Katherine and I camped at the trailhead overnight and met the group in the morning for a 35-40 mile adventure (depending on who’s GPS you refer to). We had great weather and I felt happy and strong all day. Plus, it was fun to run with new people, hearing their stories and enjoying lots of belly laughs.

The next day, out of sheer stupidity, I had planned to do a pie 5k and backwards beer mile. It was funny, but did not feel great. It was a warmer day and the pie did not go down as easily as it did when I attempted it a few years prior. The backwards beer mile ended up being mostly a walk for me and forced me into a few days of rest after feeling jostled from the odd movement.

April


April brought the last birthday of my 30s and the Foothills Trail adventure. I was still running long on the weekend and putting in some decent mileage during the week, but tapered off a bit towards the end of April to run the Foothills Trail. We blocked off a weekend, booked a campsite (that ultimately went unused because of all the snafus), and found ourselves running in the cold rain for the first 10 hours of the run.

 

I wanted to quit at the mile 46ish mark, but somehow rallied myself to keep going and set a new time-on-feet PR of 26+ hours. Running through 2 sunrises is well, an experience. I had some good takeaways though from the adventure and though I hit plenty of low points, I also was pretty stoked that I covered 78ish miles and 15,000+ gain without a race setting. The Sullivans crewing definitely made this possible!

May


The marg mile kicked off the month with one of the shortest, but arguably, most fun events of the year. This one might have to be a repeat!


Cassy and I volunteered together for 14+ hours at Deep Gap for Cruel Jewel. It was a long night even “just” volunteering, but rewarding to see people rally and move forward.

With 1 of the BRUTES (Blue Ridge Ultra Trail Endurance Slam) courses now completed (Foothills being the first), Aaron and I started to look for when and where we would tackle the next one. The Georgia Loop being the closest, shortest, and logistically easiest, we chose to go after it next. Honestly, I’m still a bit surprised at how good this day went. I was in good spirits all day, ran really strong, and ate like a champ. Of course, there were some harder sections than others, but overall, it was a great run.


Katherine was the real MVP of the day by both crewing in the morning while we were along the DRT and then coming back at night to run us in. Might I also add that she crushed some Strava crowns while pregnant coming out from Woody Gap.

 

Chantal & Chris came to town at the end of the month and while I did get to run with them one day, I tweaked something in my hip and had to take a few days off.


June


I knew I had 5 months of 5 ultra distances in a row, but my body said it was time for rest. I was a little disappointed to not keep the momentum going, but also, respectful of the fact that long-term health > streak.


Towards the end of the month with the hip feeling better, I had a couple of good workouts and was excited to sign up for the 12 hours Merrill’s Mile with all that happened since I raced last. Mentally, I felt ready to go race and get uncomfortable.


July


My mind felt ready to race, but my body apparently did not. Something just felt awful from about mile 4 on and I couldn’t shake that it just felt hard. Even slowing down and walking felt bad. So I decided to get to the 50k mark and call it quits. I was definitely disappointed, but tried to not let it get to me the way that JJ 2019 did.

 

I traveled a few weekends in July and had some horrible sciatic pain sitting on the plane/in cars for an extended period of time. Running was hot, humid, and I wondered if I was ever going to feel like a decent runner again.

August


Aside from my Rad Plaid 52k loop, August was pretty horrible running-wise. I did a 52k solo around Springer Mountain and lucked out with decent weather for August. However, it seemed as though almost every other run this month was horrible.

Boston training was ramping up and while I really wanted to just go run long and easy in the woods, I knew that I needed to put in the miles on the road if I was going to have a good race. The good news is that they forced me to go early and a road 20 miler is much faster than a trail one so I was done by 10am most Saturdays.


But dang, road marathon training is hard! Especially in August in the south.


September


I totally (& distinctly) bombed a workout in early September, but then I guess it was the intersection of fall and fitness that made the rest of the month a billion times better than August. I had a few great trail runs including a section of the Bartram Trail with Cassy & Jared, pacing David’s first 100 miler at Georgia Jewel, and a solo Blood Mountain effort.

 

October


Might be hard to top this October. The Boston Marathon returned with a fall edition of the event (thanks Covid) after bypassing 2020 altogether and skipping the traditional spring race. I was emotional about returning and raced really well - I think large in part because I was so thrilled to return. My mom came to watch for the first time and it was incredibly special to share that with her.

No rest for the weary though, I had DNF demons to conquer at JJ! I did a few tune-ups between Boston and JJ and headed out to the desert for redemption. It wasn’t a perfect day, but as far as ultras go and especially at the 100 distance, I felt pretty darn proud of my 22 hour performance. Plus, I got to spend the weekend with Adam, Roger, Cassy, Jared, Chantal, Chris, Megan, Laura, and Kynan.

 

November


I took 2 complete weeks off running, just walking 30-60 minutes a day and enjoying down time after a monster October. I had a chance to go to a resort compliments of my work right after JJ so wine and massages nicely coincided with my recovery.


Roger came to visit Moe over Thanksgiving and I suggested that we do the local “Feast Mode” race where you run a 10k followed by a 5k. I wasn’t really sure what to expect a few weeks after a 100 miler, but put in a solid effort for the 10k and then elbowed Roger for 3.1 miles. Then it was taper time again!

December


Of all the races cancelled in 2020, this was the saddest. I think mostly because we thought it would happen for such a long time and that surely Covid couldn’t last THAT long (hahahahaha, joke’s on us). But it did happen for 2021 and it was good for many reasons. I ran well in Boston so I didn’t feel the (self-imposed) pressure to hit a certain time. But I kept my head in the game and ran a 3:24, my 22nd BQ! Also, I really was looking forward to friends I hadn’t seen since 2019. The group was a little smaller than usual, but we had fun nonetheless.

As for 2022, it’s anyone’s guess. I am registered for Boston (April), Eiger 100k (July), and Chicago (October) currently. Hopefully Covid will stay at bay and allow these events to happen. I’m in the Leadville (August) lottery and will find out in January if I am in or not. I’d love to complete the other 3 BRUTES courses, but logistics and time off to do them are a bit tough.


My running goals for 2022 are:


1) To requalify for Boston in the fall for hopefully (fingers & toes crossed!!!) my 10th in a row (to be run in April 2024).

2) Complete another Western States qualifier to keep my ticket count going.

3) Figure out if Antarctica 2023 can happen - with Covid delaying lots of trips and waitlists being pushed out, I might have to wait another year or two.

Rehoboth Runparty #8

I said my good lucks and stepped out of the house by myself. In years past, I waited for the group to head to the start, but it was getting a little too close for my liking. Superstitiously, I worried for a moment if this would have any impact on my race. But there weren't too many expectations going in so I quickly pushed the thought aside. 

The last time I raced Rehoboth, it was the first race I did after Javelina. I remember feeling extremely sick the morning of the race, later realizing that the nerves of stepping on the start line created actual physical pain. This year, I was able to drink a cup of coffee, eat a muffin, and a small bite of a Snickers bar (more race superstitions) without issue. 

I almost immediately regretted wearing arm warmers walking to the start line because I knew I'd be pulling them down shortly after starting (spoiler alert, it was mile 3). The weather has usually been in the 30s in years past and I could definitely tell it was at least 10-15 degrees warmer. Which is not to say it wasn't chilly, but my preferred racing weather is being able to wear gloves the whole time!

I left my headphones around my neck while I stood in start corral, soaking in the moments of waiting for the race to start. It's a strange mix of feeling both excited and terrified in the final countdown, like climbing into the rollercoaster and feeling the bar being locked across your lap.

The 3:25 full marathon pacer and 1:40 half marathon pacer were nearby and I wanted to at least keep them in my sight. When the gun went off, I managed to position myself behind the 3:25 pace group within the first few minutes and tried to settle in as much as possible. My legs felt pretty good from the start and I was comfortable, enjoying the first few miles of the new course.

There was a bit of a squeeze on the boardwalk, but it was fun to run past all the spectators who had congregated along the side after seeing their runners off at the start. After the boardwalk, we linked back up with the old course, albeit with a little more distance under our belts.

I tried to stay within a few runners of the pacers, often running directly behind or to the left of them. There were people chatting around me, but I was content with just listening to music and putting in the work. I did have to fumble once with my phone to restart the playlist and there was a brief worry that I would have to do without my jams. 

It's funny (interesting? weird?) that I loathe running without music during a marathon, but perfectly content to do without it during longer races. Sorrynotsorry that I'm the runner listening to music and wearing carbon-plated shoes. I'll take all the advantages I can get!

I took a strawberry kiwi GU around the same time I saw a few of the half marathoners coming back towards us. It was nice to know we were inching towards the marathon turn-off. The clumps of runners grew bigger and bigger and soon thereafter, we turned right and it got much quieter. I always enjoy the section going out through Gordon Pond State Park. My legs are fresh and there is something just incredibly peaceful and beautiful about running through this section. 

The 3:25 pack continued to jostle a bit for placement within the group and I noticed there was a bit more surging and pulling back than I prefer. I wasn't checking my splits, just hoping to run by feel and see where the day took me. But things didn't feel steady within the pack and I was ready to push on if needed. 

In the next few miles, it just organically happened as I had a stretch that I felt like I was keeping the same pace and they were falling back. I took a pineapple GU near mile 8 and was happy my stomach was cooperating for the time being. Over miles 8 through 12ish, I was feeling great. I was remembering to thank the traffic volunteers, smiling at the spectators, and just in a really good spot. 

As I popped out onto the highway section, I heard my Aunt Mary yelling! I was expecting to look for her near the turnaround and was excited that I was not only seeing her once, but that I'd be able to wave once I came back. It definitely put me in a very happy headspace for the next couple of miles. Once I saw her again, I knew I was almost near the halfway point. 

I’d been thirsty since the beginning (blame it on the long day of travel Friday) and I took a few extra seconds to make sure I got all the water in my mouth near mile 12. It sat in my stomach a bit so I waited a few minutes before I took another gel, cola this time. The pace groups behind me were passing in the opposite direction along the other side and I began to scan the crowds for Angie. Luckily, we both spotted each other and were in a spot to high five!

With the course change this year, I was happy that we wouldn't have to run up the hill near the lighthouse. However, unfortunately, we did have to run up the stupid road near the Post and it took me a couple of minutes to find a groove again. I very, very slowly started to close the gap on a girl ahead of me and once I was within about 10 seconds of her, I stayed just behind her on the trail section. 

The race was beginning to wear on me and I fought off the feeling to slow down. I kept repeating to myself sit with the pain, sit with the pain, sit with the pain. I was acknowledging it was there, but I was trying to be okay with it. 

My stomach had started to turn with the culmination of miles and for me at least, the temperature. I took a toasted marshmallow GU around mile 16 and it took me far longer to get down than the first 3. I knew the calories would help me feel better in the final miles so I was kind of glad I was nowhere near a trash can. I just slurped it every few minutes and eventually got through it.

Once we hit the road section again, I started to look forward to the extra burst of energy I’d get by going through town. It’s always a bit mean to run by the finish line near mile 19, but I know I only have about an hour’s worth of work to go before I get back to celebrate. 

This year, we ran through a little park before popping back out onto the familiar road. I took my final pineapple GU and much like the prior one, had to spend a few minutes trying to get it down. By this point in the race, I was warm and dumping water over my head to cool off. There were people still in gloves and long sleeves, but I was hot!

As I hit the Junction and Breakwater Trail, I checked my watch to see how much time was on the clock. I hadn’t been passed by the 3:25 group yet, but I felt like maybe I wasn’t running quite as fast as when I broke away. Doing a few quick calculations, I figured I would be coming in around 3:24:XX assuming my pace stayed around 7:45-8:00. I was working for every step, but happy that even if I hit a rough patch at the end, it would still be a solid day for me. I was so in the zone that I barely saw Paul who was head back to the finish in his own race. 

There is a section on the trail where a group hangs tons of countries’ flags across the course and there are tons of spectators (for this sized race) and music playing. It’s always a pick-me-up with only a few miles to go. I started craning my neck for the flags as I made the turns on the trail and felt relieved when I saw them finally. It was shortly after that section that we made the last little loop to head back to the finish line. 

I was excited to come back a different way in the final couple of miles and run on a new-to-me section of trail. There were a few half marathon walkers to dodge, but people overall were very respectful of the narrower space. It shot us out onto a sidewalk and I lost my bearings for a moment until we came back to where it intersected with the outbound portion of the course.

The course was slightly different in the final mile. Though I had been hitting the mile markers pretty perfectly all day, which is super odd in a marathon, I was looking for the visual cues that I had grown used to. Another runner who I’d been playing leapfrog with half the race told me I was looking strong as I came by with a half mile to go. 

A girl started to pass me, but then sat only a few steps ahead of me as we came around to the final turn of the finish chute area. I was content to let her go at first, but then I felt ready to give it what I had for the last couple of minutes. I may have misjudged my “sprinting” ability in the final 0.2 miles, but I brought it home as hard as I could. The crowd seemed muffled as I went by as though I was tuning everything else out. And then there was the sweet relief of stepping over the mat and allowing myself to come to a stop. 

Ahhhhh.

For once in a very long time, I didn’t have the urge to puke after this race. I wandered slowly with my space blank and collected my medal. Gwen and John were waiting nearby, showered and happy about their respective races. We talked for a few minutes and then I grabbed a carton of chocolate milk, taking a chance that my good stomach would stay good. Everything seemed to feel okay as I walked back to the house and though I was still dehydrated, I actually felt not completely destroyed. Just mildly. 

Once I took a shower and changed into dry clothes, it was time for the actual reason I go to Rehoboth Beach every December - the post-race party!

Javelina Jundred: Settling the Score

Pre(r)amble

In October 2019, I headed into Javelina Jundred feeling incredibly confident and fit. I had hit times in workouts that seemed impossibly hard. I felt mentally tough after coming off a year of injury followed by a spring in which I crammed in a finish at the Georgia Death Race, a 3:18 Boston Marathon, and the Everest Marathon. I could do hard things.

But the desert won in the end that year. I made it to just past mile 50, but spent the prior 20 miles feeling pretty awful and the last 5 in particular were the worst I have ever felt in a race. I was violently puking, wandering from side to side on the trail, and could not imagine trying to run another 50 miles. So I logged my first real DNF. 

The aftermath wasn’t pretty. I don’t know when I finally came to terms with it actually, but I remember I felt really, really awful about the whole experience for quite some time. I drug pacers and crew out for the first time and was pretty embarrassed that I quit on my own accord. I thought I would always be the person who’d have to be pulled off a course kicking and screaming, or, at the very least, with a bone sticking out.

When the dust settled and the pity party subsided, I decided that I wanted to put the training to use and signed up for Long Haul 100 in January 2020. It was a good race for me and I treated it the opposite of Javelina. I went in with minimal plans, adjusted some of the things that didn’t work, and while I am always competitive, didn’t go in with any hopes other than a finish. I ran a 19:58 and managed to feel really good for the majority of the race. 

In that same month, I signed up for Javelina for October 2020, seeking redemption. We all know what happened last year and though they still put on the race, I decided to defer due to all the Covid restrictions and the uncertainty of the world at that time. Luckily, Chantal, Roger, Cassy, & Jared all deferred as well so I was excited that we would have something to look forward to in October 2021.

As I said in my Boston Marathon recap, training was a mixed bag. I felt like I gained a lot of long run experience during 2020/2021 with a bunch of self-supported adventures, but I also struggled a lot. I was getting super nervous before speed sessions and spent a few weeks this summer feeling very, very unmotivated to run. 

Maybe other distance runners can relate, but I would hands down choose a 5 hour run in the mountains than a 20 minute tempo. There are parts of me that know that in order to be a faster runner, I have to put in the speed work. If I want to qualify for Boston year in and year out, I can’t just do a bunch of 5 hour runs in the mountains and expect the speed to follow. I usually end up feeling really proud of myself after the speed sessions so I really tried to figure out why I was struggling so much with the psychology of it all.

After Boston, I felt good and was able to make the most of the 3 weeks in between races. It gave me confidence that I raced well in Boston, but I also knew that a 3:20 marathon really meant very little if trying to predict a desert 100. I wanted to go into the race feeling a healthy mix of fear and excitement. Strong, but not overly confident. Prepared, but not afraid to deviate from the plan. I kept saying I was just ready to see what the race gave to me.

Thursday

We got up super duper early to catch our flight and spent the morning flying, picking up the rental car & rental scooter, and finally got lunch around noon PHX time. Both of us were already exhausted and it was only halfway through the first day. We got some groceries and dropped off our stuff at the Airbnb, meeting up with Cassy & Jared who, along with Chantal & Chris, would be sharing the house with us for the weekend. Roger, Laura, and Kynan met us for dinner and beers at a brewpub and all of us headed back to try to get one good night’s worth of sleep.

Friday

Being on East Coast time still, I was able to wake up early without any issue. Cassy and I were lucky enough to see some real javelinas in the backyard of the Airbnb and shrieked with delight as we followed them around safely behind the fence. Also, the desert has the most incredible sunrises/sunsets and we had an incredible vantage point from where we were staying.

There was a shakeout run at the start/finish line sponsored by goodr and rabbit with the promise of freebies. Cassy, Jared, and I enjoyed 30 minutes on the trails and walked away with some free gear. We got back to the Airbnb and then the whole gang went out for a carb-loading session at a local pancake restaurant. It was then time for packet picket, swag purchases, and we ran into everyone, including Megan, in the tent. 

All of us wanted to then get off our feet and relax for the remainder of the day. We blobbed on the sofa, eating and hydrating until Chris whipped the group up a big batch of pasta. One of my favorite things to do is to have a family dinner with other runners before a race and this just felt so happy. After dinner, we all laid out our bags and gear, discussed when to leave, and tried to get some sleep.

Saturday

I slept well and woke up to my alarm at 4:00 a.m. I drank coffee, ate a muffin, and filled up my hydration bottles. I slathered copious amounts of both sunscreen and anti-chafe cream all over my body. Then it was time to head to the race!

Chris drove Chantal, Adam, and myself to the drop off area of the race so that we could get the scooter out of the car for Adam. Luckily, this saved Chantal and I some extra steps too in the process. Though it was down to the wire and he was sprinting, Chris was able to park and see us off for the start.

Roger and Megan came over to say their good mornings and we dropped our gear bags under the pavilion. There wasn’t too much time to spare because we were then lining up in the start corral, listening to the countdown. Laura tapped me on the shoulder and I stood next to her and Chantal, waiting to get started. 

Then it was go time!

Race - Loop 1

I knew that it would be impossible to stay with anyone I knew for an extended period of time so I didn’t have any plans to try to run with anyone. But, as fate would have it, Chantal ended up hitting the single-track one person ahead of me and by the first half mile, we were chatting away. It felt like old times and though we had a long way to go, I truly wanted to just soak in the moment of getting to be able to do this with my friends.

We were keeping the pace easy and we made our way around to Coyote Camp at mile 4 and to Jackass Junction at mile 10.5. It was cool enough and early enough that I didn’t stop to get anything at the first aid station, but I did top off my bottles at Jackass. There was kind of an unspoken rule to just run your own race and not wait for anyone if you needed/wanted to either stop or go ahead.

But as we made our way towards Rattlesnake (mile 15.7), both Chantal and I found ourselves running with Cassy as well.

Laura came past on this descent as well and I thought about how cool it was that we are all so close together after running for a few hours. Chantal went on ahead after a while, leaving Cassy and I to talk about anything and everything. We got so wrapped up in conversation that I forgot that we were in a 100 mile race for a few miles. It felt like just another training run with one of my best running buddies, albeit in the desert. 

Coming into Jeadquarters at mile 22.3, we saw Chantal getting aid near the drog bags and after hitting the timing mat, made our way to our own gear.

I restocked my pack with my “loop 2” bag, topped off my hydration bottles and grabbed ice for my hat and buff at the aid station.

Loop 2

The cool of the morning now completely gone, it was time to head into the worst part of the day. I told myself to just keep moving and not worry too much about if I needed to walk or slow down a lot. I really was not checking my splits, knowing that the only goal that mattered was to finish. I’d look at the mileage to determine how close I was to the next aid station, but did not want to get too sucked up into how fast/slow I was going.

At some point between Jeadquarters and Jackass, I caught up with Chantal and we ran the yucky stretch together. I remember thinking that I needed to grab my handheld bottle when I finished the loop as I was completely out of hydration when I arrived at Jackass. I was trying to keep my temperature down by using ice at every aid station. I put it in my stretchy hat (this was clutch!), in my buff around my neck, in my sports bra, and for a brief period of time, down my pack. 

Coming from the land of humidity, it is so strange to me that my skin was so, so dry even though I was dousing it in water at each aid station. My shirt stayed a little wet when I put the ice down my pack, but my shorts were mostly dry the entire day. The flip side of no moisture was that I found it hard to figure out if I was drinking enough and the cooling properties of being doused at the aid stations lasted for only a mile. 

After going through Jackass on the second loop, I shuffled slowly trying to both mitigate the heat of the day and to allow Chantal to catch up if she was still feeling good. All of a sudden, Jared was on my shoulder and I was so confused. It was way too early for him to be lapping me as I hadn’t even been lapped by a pro yet, but also I hadn’t passed him prior? But then he said that we were both at Jackass together and he was on his second lap as well.

We ran together towards Rattlesnake (mile 38), leapfrogging each other at times. The heat was peaking and I was trying to just shuffle when I could, hoping that I could just get through the next few hours without crumbling. I was a little nervous coming into Jeadquarters again, knowing that the next stretch would be the one in which I met my demise in 2019. Adam had gone back to the Airbnb to get some rest, but Chris was there and it was great to get some encouragement. 

I repacked my bag, grabbed my headlamp and dug through my food to figure out what I might be able to consume. I stuffed everything with ice again and took off on my 3rd loop. My stomach was starting to feel iffy, but I was trying to at least drink some electrolytes so as to not completely bonk.

Loop 3

As I got past Coyote (45.7) for the 3rd time, I felt surges of nausea hit me. I was determined to not have a repeat of 2019. I walked a bunch in this section, trying to keep my heart rate and food down. Mentally, I struggled a bit as I knew I was in the same section as where I imploded before. My sub-24 wave bracelet had been physically annoying me since I put it on the day prior. I slid it off in this stretch and stuffed it in my pack, not wanting the clock to deter me from a finish. 

In 2019, I was so consumed with not losing time that I flew through aid stations and pushed myself to run through the heat of the day. This time, I tried really hard to be a patient runner. 

But as I came into Jackass, I knew I was going to do it. I pulled out my long sleeve shirt and stuffed it in my pack. I drank a cup of broth and used a Wisp to brush my teeth.

A couple miles down that stretch, I started to feel my stomach turn very quickly. I stopped abruptly and said goodbye to all the soup I had just consumed. But as soon as I did, I felt a million times better. It was like hitting a reset button. The sun had finally gotten low enough that I no longer needed ice and I was finally starting to feel comfortable. My legs were tired of course, but the promise of cooler temperatures brought me to life again. I even paused to take a sunset pic because I was having a "how great is this" moment.

I clicked on my headlamp near Rattlesnake (57.4) and started to get excited about being able to see Adam soon at Jeadquarters. The lights on the tents glowed in the distance, but I knew that once I heard the music, I was less than a mile away. Seeing Adam, Chris, and Roger (who dropped from the 100k), was just what I needed. They helped me get my stuff ready for the next loop and I felt ready to go tackle the last 2 loops. I asked how everyone else was doing/feeling knowing that misery loves company and we’d all just suffered through the worst part of the day. 

Loop 4

I grabbed a PBJ half and ate most of it, all but a bite or two. I felt around for my baggie of batteries and headphones, but realized I left it back at Jeadquarters. Luckily, I was able to call Adam and have Chris (thankyouthankyouthankyou) run it out to me. I lost a couple of minutes, but it probably was good to have my sandwich settled.

Somehow, I was able to find a little bit of my running legs and my confidence grew as I ticked off the miles. It definitely was not easy by any stretch, but I felt very lucid and determined to keep moving. Once I reached Jackass again (71.6), I checked my drop bag for anything I might need in the final loop and a half and then tossed it in the bin to have it sent back to Jeadquarters. 

I was near the back of the pack of the Jackass 31k runners during this loop and arguably, the most happy/positive people. Aravaipa has a race that starts at 6:00 p.m. on Saturday night that consists of 1 loop of the course and these runners are encouraged to wear costumes with lights and perk up the field of dying 100 miles/100k runners. It definitely helped to have these runners breathe a bit of life into me.

As I approached Rattlesnake (76.8), I desperately needed to use the porta-potty. I kept thinking it was closer than it was and was practically sprinting the final mile. Fortunately, I felt much better after going and shuffled along, getting excited for the bell lap.

When I reached Jeadquarters, I was told that Laura and Chantal had dropped and Megan and Chris were both available to pace. Luckily, they arm-wrestled it out decided for me because I didn’t want to have to make choices at mile 80! Megan would be accompanying me on my last loop. I asked about Jared and Cassy and were told they were together and while feeling a bit rough, were committed to finishing (!!!).

Loop 5

I grabbed my pink “final lap” bracelet, refilled my bottles, and then Megan and I headed out into the night. She was great at making me eat a little tiny something every few miles (albeit with me complaining about it) and walking with me for what felt like the majority of the last lap. 

I was definitely delirious at this point, but making jokes and super happy that I had someone to talk to for the last lap. I honestly don’t remember too many specifics about what we talked about, but I do remember that it ran the gamut from very serious to very light. It took my mind off the task at hand which is exactly what I needed in the final miles. 

It was really cool to go through each little section and be able to say that I didn’t have to do THAT part again. At Jackass, the party from the night wave of runners had died off, but I stepped into the dance floor for a quick hip shake. Megan took a shot of Fireball and with that, we were off to finish the last 9 miles. 

We passed a fair number of people in the final few miles. I wasn’t running fast, but I was able to at least still run. There definitely were plenty of walk breaks, but I was trying to just move as quickly as possible. I’ve known Megan for a long time (via the interwebs) and while we’ve done a few of the same races, this was the first time we’d ever run together. We talked about our crazy Covid year adventures and it reinvigorated me (after I recover) to go tackle more of them.

There was a tiny section that we went the wrong way on towards the end. Leave it to me to get lost on the last loop. But we found our way again and trotted towards the finish tent, relieved a finish was in sight. Megan told me she’d peel off as we reached the finish chute and I was too tired to comprehend how great it would have been to have her run it in with me. I wanted Adam to also come for the final stretch, but realized the terrain was a bit too treacherous. The consolation prize was that it gave me something to be excited for in the final few hundred meters.

As I came up the final hill, I felt a huge sense of relief over finally putting this thing to rest. There was a runner in front of me, going much slower and I wasn’t sure if he was finishing or running another loop. So to give him a little space and let him potentially celebrate his own finish, I slowed down myself and danced it in. 

The desert didn’t win this time.

Link to Strava stuff if you’re into that: https://www.strava.com/activities/6191448367/overview

Back to Chasing the Unicorn: Boston Marathon 2021

910 days had passed since the previous Boston Marathon. There was a whole bunch of life that happened in that time. I went to Everest (base camp + marathon, not a summit), DNF’d a 100 mile race, finished a 100 mile race, nabbed a couple more BQs, and then Covid happened. I did some rad running stuff during the pandemic - 38 miles for my 38th birthday, my first non-race 100 mile week, set the FKT on the Silver Comet, and ran a bunch of self-supported trail ultras. 

When we got into the final weeks leading up to this year’s Boston and saw that other majors were happening without a hitch, it started to feel real. I didn’t let myself truly accept it until pretty late in my training because it was cancelled with only 6 weeks to go last spring. 

Summer marathon training in Georgia is pretty awful. Even if you get up early or run late in the day, it’s just uncomfortable. My happy running temp is 35-40 so even our “cool summer” was still terrible. I usually am pretty self-motivated to run, but I had a few weeks that I struggled getting out the door. I gave up on workouts before starting them and threw in the towel early on more than I care to admit.

Prior to Covid, I raced a ton and usually had a bunch of gauges as to where my fitness was. The more you do something, the less intimidating it seems. So it seemed a bit daunting to me to step into the arena of a pretty prestigious marathon with not a lot of indicators as to how it was going to go.

But, sure enough, once we got a couple of days that it wasn’t a billion degrees with 1,000% humidity, I finally felt my fitness turn a bit. I knew I wasn’t PR fit, but I knew that I was probably BQ fit. Especially since I now had an extra 5 minutes!

Adam hadn’t traveled on a plane since prior to Covid and we were both nervous about navigating all the new challenges with his decreased mobility. Luckily, my mom was coming to watch the race for the first time and was a big help both physically and emotionally getting us through the weekend. My mom’s cousin Glenda lives on Commonwealth and generously allowed our boisterous clan to stay for the long weekend.

The race expo was super tiny outside the Adidas shop. I bought a few things, but we were in and out pretty quickly. This freed up our Saturday to walk/scooter the Freedom Trail with my mom and Glenda. I was happy to be outside on a beautiful day, but got a little nervous when we got home for the evening and saw I had 26,000 steps. Yikes.

I did a very short shakeout run/errand on Sunday morning to pick up my race morning food/coffee and then promptly spent the rest of the day sitting around with my feet up. I wanted to nap, but I was too excited. I drank a TON of water all day and Gatorade, anticipating the predicted warm weather for Monday. We shared pasta for dinner and then it was time to try to sleep!

I actually slept embarrassingly well. Garmin says I got almost 9 hours of sleep. With bus pickup at 8:15am and a 10 minute walk away, I had the luxury of waking up at 7am. I ate part of a muffin, drank a nitro cold brew, and my mom came downstairs to help me get the scooter outside for Adam to use later. Then it was off to the races!

The guy I stood behind in the bus line started chatting with me and we sat together on the ride out to Hopkinton. I sipped my little bottle of water and ate my traditional pre-race Snickers. With the rolling start, we all just headed towards the race once we were dropped off. I, along with every other runner, went to the porta-potty lines. I actually beelined directly to the back of the giant U-shaped area and found that there were plenty of vacant ones.

As I walked up to the start line, I noticed Marathon Maniacs Tony over to the side, tying his shoe. It reminded me I needed to re-tie my own and I used the opportunity to say hi and snap a picture together. Then it was time to take one more picture by the start before I fired up the playlist.

The rolling start was weird. Good because it gave me plenty of time to do all the last minute things on my own clock, but bad because it seemed anticlimactic to just step on the timing mat and go whenever. But, there I was, clicking start on my Garmin and rolling down that first hill for (another!!!) Boston Marathon. 

Oh lawd, I was not prepared to be emotional. For the first 5k or so, I couldn’t control the fact that I was overcome with joy to just be there. I fought it a bit thinking that I might overtax myself mentally, but then just decided to ride the wave. 

Somewhere in my head, I thought a 3:2X marathon was in my wheelhouse. I knew a 7:5X pace would get me there, but I also didn’t want to be a slave to my watch. So the first few miles, I glanced at the pace when the mile beeped, but I desperately just wanted it to feel sustainable for as long as possible. 

As I rolled through Ashland and Framingham, I knew I was playing with fire, but I kind of just wanted to see if it would pay off. The crowds were electric. I could feel the excitement of the communities having this very normal pre-Covid thing return. The weather was too warm for running, but it was great for spectating. I high-fived tiny hands, pointed at people who shouted my name (it was on my singlet), and at one point, lifted my arms up to rally the crowds to cheer. Even if my playing with fire left me burned, I was determined to make it fun while it lasted.

Into Natick, I was surprised to still feel good clicking off 7:3Xs and remember thinking that if I just made it to the halfway point at 1:40ish, I could still likely manage a squeaker BQ even if the second half wasn’t great. I felt dry-mouthed from the start and was trying to drink something at every hydration station even if it was just a few sips. I took my 3rd gel around mile 12 or so and noticed that I had to choke it down. 

Wellesley is always a highlight, but they seemed extra loud and extra in your face this year. I high-fived about 50 girls and then had to veer left because I knew I still literally had half a marathon to run. 

Over the next couple of miles, my stomach started to turn and I got concerned that I was going to need to find a porta-potty. I hated to lose any time to anything not running when my race was going so well, but I also was starting to get severely uncomfortable. When I got to the mile 15 hydration station, I bolted to the porta-potty and tried to do my best Shalane in-and-out-rapidly impersonation. I still clocked an 8:11 mile so clearly my sprint to and from paid off!

Mile 16 is the last down before the Newton Hills and I took stock of how I felt. Tummy was now happy, legs were tired, but still moving well, and with 10ish miles left in the race, I was feeling pretty good. I decided to wait another mile or so before taking another gel and sipped on some Gatorade before tackling the hills.

The Newton Hills are only bad because of where they are in the marathon. There are some hills in the earlier sections, but they are moderate and the net downhill in the first 16 miles is very, very wheeeeee. By mile 16, runners are feeling the cumulative fatigue AND then they have to climb. I had a few 7:4X in there, but I didn’t panic and really hadn’t been checking my splits for a while. I was more concentrated on the overall time.

I remember seeing signs in years past about the top of Heartbreak Hill, but I didn’t see them this year. As I crested the final top before Boston College, my emotions caught up with me again. Wtf? I was torn between wanting to just finish the darn thing already and also, wanting the moment to last a really long time. It wasn’t like it was easy, but I was definitely in a flow state. I remember feeling like I was pushing the gas pedal almost to the floor, but leaving just a little bit for Boylston Street.

There were some really strong runners to follow in the final miles and I stayed a few steps behind them as I felt my excitement growing with familiar sights. The subway tracks at the turn on Beacon Street, the first glimpse of the Citgo sign, the stupid sun-exposed hill at mile 25. 

I started anticipating seeing Adam, my mom, and Glenda and knew I needed to be towards the left. I started scanning the crowd even before I got to the Charlesgate Bridge because I wanted to make sure I saw them. As I got close to the corner of Commonwealth and Hereford, I saw my mom waving her hands wildly and I sped up to give hugs and kisses. It was everything I’d hoped for and then some. 

As I bopped up Hereford, any pain I was feeling was completely masked by my happiness. In fact, I was so smitten with feeling good that I continued running at my 7:3X pace, not aware how close I was to being under 3:20 until maybe I had 40 seconds to go? Apparently I still had something in the tank because as I glanced at my watch with 3:19:XX, I BOOKED it down the final stretch. I was pumping my arms wildly, grinning like a complete cheeseball, and in disbelief that it went so darn well. 

3:20:05. I’m not mad about it. <insert winky smile face here>

I loosened my shoes, collected all my post-race goodies (water, heat sheet, mask, medal, food bag), and made the zombie-walk back to the apartment. My support team was crossing the street on the opposite side right as I was and we all made our way back inside. 

I’m still kind of processing the whole thing. I ran much faster than I thought. I ran in a much better headspace than I thought. I was worried about the heat and the expectations and was bracing myself for a rough day. But it never happened. Sure, it got hard and I fought to keep the pace honest throughout, but somehow, Boston magic prevailed. 

Merrill’s this year taught me (as plenty of previous races have) that a good day at the races is never a guarantee. I’m allowed to be proud of the ones that go well and be disappointed in the ones that go awful. And if they go really well, I might just be celebrating an extra week.