Spring Summer 2025

 I was patient in the beginning, the humidity smothering me from the moment I stepped out of the car. My shirt was soaked through within the first mile. Any whisper of winter was officially gone by now. 

But all systems felt oddly good as I ascended. With a giant effort not two weeks behind me, I recognized I might need to bail at 1 of the 3 planned summits. The mountain laurels, rhododendron, and flame azaleas were peaking in color. Their blooms scattered the trail like spring snow. I told myself I'd save my picture-taking for the return trip and it gave me something to look forward to. 

As I reached the ridgeline, dense fog ruined any chance of morning views. I hoped that it would burn off, relieving me of the humidity and making these climbs worth it. The rocks on the ridgeline were slick with moisture and as I came into view of the first people I saw, I slid down very slowly. They stopped and made sure I was okay before I overly reassured them I was unscathed.

A mile later, I ran into a group of 5 hikers who moved to the side to give me room to pass. The one with a giant headlamp still on his head way past dawn asked me what time I started. I glanced at my watch and told him, “about an hour ago”. He seemed angry and impressed in one facial expression. I asked if they'd ever been on this trail before and after they said no, told them that the worst part was mostly over. There's a bit of a rock scramble before you reach the top, but it's very short.

I got to it myself very shortly thereafter, enjoying the dense tree tunnel that leads right up to it. There used to be a fixed rope in this scramble area, but they rerouted the trail into switchbacks with some rocks as stairs. It's a little dicey where some of the trail has continually eroded and even dicier in wet conditions. I made it through without any incident and started to do a little running after that. 

The goal was to go very, very slow and finish the triple. So if I ever felt like I was pushing during the run, I'd pull myself back to keep it easy, easy, easy. I was jogging slowly in the easiest sections of Arkaquah when I rolled my ankle and came tumbling down. The same one I rolled during SCAR and heard the same crunchy noise it made that night. Cursing my own name, I rose back up and hobbled gingerly for a few steps. Flashbacks of Frankenfoot haunted me. That was 7 weeks out from UTMB. This was 7 weeks out from Eiger. 

Somehow, I avoided further damage and as it loosened up, I continued to pick up speed and confidence. Reaching the parking lot felt like I'd checked the first box. I climbed the paved trail hard, my lungs and hamstrings burning happily. At the top of the lookout, I plopped on the bench, pulled out a croissant, and took a few photos. I sent the foggy landscape to the running group chat, telling them they were missing the great views.

I filled up my bottles at the water fountain and headed out for the longest section. Down Wagon Train and then back to the summit. This trail is even less used than Arkaquah and in June, the flora often hides the path. I fought my way through the greenery and then found a good rhythm as I descended. Running felt good and I was conscious of keeping it very relaxed.

I ate every 30 minutes, taking my time to get in calories and not worry if I needed to walk here or there to open packages or dig around for the right thing. At the bottom of the descent, I stopped to pee and was happy I was hydrated enough to do this. 

I fully expected to spend the ascent power-hiking. But I continued to feel oddly good and ran way more of the uphill than expected. The fog had lifted a bit and I snapped a few pictures of the Brasstown summit from this trail. As I got over 4,000’, the breeze picked up and I reached the field of ferns feeling really happy. I wasn't feeling mile 1 fresh, but I felt strong and confident for finishing what I'd started out for. 

I climbed the paved path again, now swarming with day hikers. As I got to the vending machine, I pulled out 2 very soaked $1 bills to buy a Dr. Pepper. I was salivating at the prospect of guzzling the cold, sugary fizz. The dollar went in and was spit back out. In and spit back out. In and spit back out. I tried the other dollar. Same result. I thought briefly about asking someone to trade me $2 in non-wet bills, but decided perhaps I didn't actually need this Dr. Pepper that badly and stuffed them back in my shorts pocket. Note to self that yes, you should have put them in a plastic bag as planned.

Reaching the summit again, I sat on the bench, pulled out a second croissant, and took another few photos. Refilling my bottles, I listened to people sitting on the rocking chairs talk about going to Anna Ruby Falls and going to lunch. 

Was it only lunch time? Was it already lunch time? Time in the woods can often feel irrelevant. I could live a thousand lifetimes before noon. 

I jogged back down the paved trail, the eccentric load hammering my quadriceps until I reached the parking lot. Of all the gin joints in the world, there was a Porsche party in the summit parking lot. Like 40 of them. All backed into their spaces, obviously. A few new ones, but mostly from the 80s and 90s. I should have taken a picture, but I'd just stuffed my phone back in my pack after queuing up a playlist. 

On Repeat Spotify playlist seemed to be a good start for the Jack's Knob descent. A mix of EDM, country, hip-hop, and indie currently.

Relieved to be leaving civilization again, I hiked the one tiny uphill before getting to the fun part. The descent on Jack's Knob is a blast if you've got legs. Mine weren't so fresh, but I found a nice cadence nonetheless. I was only a couple minutes into the down when I spotted Chad. And Loucus. And Daniel. Not surprising in the least, but also funny that the only other people I saw running were 3 people I know. And I'm 90 minutes from my house. We chatted for a few minutes and fist-bumped as we headed our respective ways. 

I cruised down to the bottom, still feeling like I had gas in the tank. Which was good, because the climb back is a beast. I tagged the road and then clipped my poles back into my gloves. Climb time. Sweat poured off me as I inched my way up. I was almost to the top when a hiker and I passed each other in reverse and started chatting. He was training for some long Colorado hikes and was encouraged to do one more repeat of Jack's after we talked. 

Shortly thereafter, I was back at the parking lot and then back to the summit. I dug out my third and final croissant, took a few more photos, and then waited until I was back at the parking lot fountains to fill up water. I only peed once and I was 7 hours in at this point. So my goal was to deplete as much of the 1.5L on the descent as I could. 

It was slow going in the beginning as I pulled out my phone to change my playlist. I played Dream On by Aerosmith and then let shuffle mode take it from there. Then I took some flower photos. Climbing back down the dicey section was, well, dicier. 

At long last though, I reached the final summit and knew I could tuck my poles away. Much like Jack's Knob, the final descent of Arkaquah is a blast if you've got legs. The trail is pretty narrow in sections with a step drop-off, but I was feeling better than I deserved. Sultans of Swing played as I cruised down full of joy. I was tired and scratched and ready to see my car, but I was also so incredibly happy in that stretch. 

I didn't expect this day to go well. In fact, I didn't know if I was going to make it more than one summit. But it went unreasonably well. Not perfect, but a really happy solo 30 miles in nearly 100% humidity with over 8,000’ of climbing. 

_____________

I bring a can of sparkling water out with me and it sweats in the summer evening. Lightning cracks across the sky and I curl up in the rocking chair. My hair is damp from the long bath I just took. I call an old friend and rock slowly in the chair as we talk. Our conversations over the phone are far lighter than in person. We talk about family, health, and upcoming plans, but nothing of true depth. Those are saved for our far less frequent meetings. 

The summer thunderstorm lingers around me, but I'm protected from the rain on the porch. My azaleas are just tall enough to give me privacy. Not that anyone is out anyway in the weather. On a regular night in June, kids would be racing by on their bikes and adults walking their dogs one last time for the day. 

It's never how I imagined it to be, but it's also everything I imagined it to be. The routine of summer rain and stories of an old friend weaving a thread of comfort into an otherwise strange existence. 

_________

I'm drenched in sadness. The words on the pages bring me to tears at 30,000’. I blink them back, stuffing my sorrow deep inside of me. 

All of it washes over me like a tidal wave. The uncertainty of everything too much for one lifetime, let alone one year, one week, one day. I feel like I'm running away again. But I know you need me now and the guilt wrecks me. I keep trying to find the light, some sliver of hope that makes me feel like I'll once again find comfort.

I awoke from my dream that I woke up too late to catch my flight in time. And that I was wandering around the parking lot nearly hysterical because I couldn't find my car. That I had no time buffer to make it to the race on time and that I was going to lose my streak. Nobody cares except me, but I felt the disappointment so heavily in this dream that when I woke up, I was almost startled that it was on time. 

All the emotions of the week had my mind racing as I tossed and turned on the pillow last night. I needed to sleep because the 4am alarm was going to be rough even in the best of circumstances. I heard Megan draw herself a bath, the familiar sound of her routine providing white noise as I spiraled. I'm not sure if Adam was asleep or not, his inability to easily toss and turn forces him to lie on his back until he can drift off. 

I slipped in and out of consciousness until Riley made her bedside appearance. I knew I should have just put her in bed earlier, but most of the time I scoop her up in a semi-vegetative state and fall back asleep early. My mind was still spinning when I laid her on the bed. She takes very little time to nest these days, especially in the night. 

_________

Places I have bloomed. Or rather, watched my bloom fade. 

I'd rather think of when it was just happening, having no idea it would burst full of color and scent. Tipping its petals to the sky and then dropping slowly as all the insides are revealed.

Bloomed all through the middle of winter and came back again for a season. I felt it ebb and flow, wishing for that one day again that the bud might erupt.

But I prepared for my bloom to die. Like dust in the wind, forgotten as that town. The leaves and petals becoming brown and wilted. The seasons come and go and I can only hope someone scoops up my seeds and plants me once again. 

_______

I wanted to scribble furiously like I'd imagine Hemingway to have done in a drunken stream of consciousness. But I've seen the gardens now, a breezy oasis amid the creative chaos. It seems too sunny, too rich with sea breezes to be filled with grief. The words don't fly off the pen like they once did, the sadness smattered across thousands of sentences with no end in sight. 

I imagine my fingertips touching the grass in the field and fire igniting in my wake. Scorched earth and scorched soul, never to be the same again even as the dandelions poke through the ash. 

I said I'd put it to bed, bury it under the tree. But I'm only human. The days it follows me like a shadow are far fewer than they used to be, but they still exist. 

I don't even know what it is that compels me to feel so enraptured by it all from time to time. I think about that electric hum that felt like my entire body was boiling and I'm chasing that high. 

On days I'm busy, I'm free of wondering too much. But those pockets of free time are ripe for toying with my fickle mind. 

SCAR | Smoky Mountains Challenge Adventure Run

SCAR (Smoky Mountains Challenge Adventure Run) is a route that had been on my bucket list for a long, long time. It's a 72ish mile point-to-point along the Appalachian Trail within Smoky Mountain National Park. It boasts 18,000'+ of elevation gain and has only 2 points along the way that are accessible by car. The classic route begins at Fontana Dam, on the road at the edge of the bridge and ends at Davenport Gap. It begins at about 1,700' and tops out at 6,643' at the top of Kuwohi, the highest point on the Appalachian Trail.

The remote nature of route from a driving/gear/safety perspective and the length of time in which it takes to complete meant that I needed to carve out at least 2+ days to get it done. 

Finding someone to handle driving and crew logistics was a big piece of the puzzle. When I brought it up to Casey a few months ago, she immediately agreed to help out. Spending multiple days to sit at trailheads for hours is a huge ask for anyone. I definitely couldn't have done it without her and am really grateful for her sacrificing her personal time for my selfish pursuits. 

Roger and I had also been discussing it and he booked a flight even without all the details being nailed down. We figured at the very least we could just go run long on a couple of days over Memorial Day weekend even if we couldn't get away for the nights. 

But then it all came together when Jeff was available to help with Adam for a few nights. All of sudden, this was happening! I got my spreadsheets together and started figuring out all the details. What our projected times would be, how much food to pack, where to filter water, etc. Late May seemed like a pretty ideal time for the route, late enough that there would be little chance of snow or ice, but early enough that it wouldn't be too hot. 

And wow, we got really lucky with the weather. It was mostly low humidity, chilly, and dry for the entire run. Though I haven't been feeling super fast lately, I was feeling healthy and ready to move for a long time. And it would also serve as a good training run for Eiger 250 in July. All things were pointed to having a great experience out there. 

We loaded up around 1pm on Friday afternoon from my house, Roger having flown in on a red-eye that morning. After a few pits stops along the way, Casey got us to Fontana Dam just after 5pm. Roger and I finished all of our last minute preparations, i.e. filling our packs with food, slathering ourselves in anti-chafe cream, and double-checking our gear for the first 32 miles. 

Casey took our picture at the edge of the dam and around 5:40pm on Friday evening, Roger and I began our journey. I felt really comfortable from the start. The weather was great, we had a few hours of daylight left, and my body felt good. We climbed out of Fontana Dam, the trail steep and relentless for many miles. 

There was a good bit of chatter in the beginning between us, but it waned a bit as Roger worked to get his blood sugar stabilized. He had run a road marathon 3 weeks prior and a high elevation 100k the weekend before so despite being healthy, the cumulative fatigue caught up pretty quickly. I had been leading, but after we stopped so he could put on layers, I suggested he lead so we could just go at the pace he was comfortable with.

We donned our headlamps near sunset, the green tunnel darkening quickly as we headed into the nighttime hours. It's not as though there were too many runnable sections on the initial climb anyway, but we both agreed to just power hike once it was dark. I had a loose goal of 30 hours to finish, but it was less about pace and more about logistics (re: nutrition, water, crew access).

I started with almost 2L of water and planned to filter somewhere between miles 13-16. Because we planned to move slower and it was cool, I figured this would be enough to get me to that section. I did get a little nervous when I was running low close to where I found a place to filter! I normally use just Skratch for electrolytes, but only had a few packets left so I threw in few Liquid IV too. When I refilled at this first stop, I used the Liquid IV and regretted that choice. It was way too sugary for my liking.

I had run portions of SCAR before, but never the section between Rocky Top (mile 17ish) and Kuwohi (mile 32) so I was looking forward to covering new ground. It gave me some motivation to reach that first checkpoint in my mind. 

Shortly thereafter, I started to feel really sleepy. I knew that I just had to get to about 5am and I'd start to feel better. I always struggle with endurance things in between 2am and 5am. But everything else seemed to be going well so I just grumbled about it a few times and kept going. However, the compounded fatigue Roger had accumulated caught up with him and he asked if it was okay if he took a 10 minute trail nap. I wasn't tired enough to fall asleep so I just kept an eye on the timer. 

He seemed to feel better after the nap and we hiked on into first light. I was eating well all night, getting in 100 or so calories every 30 minutes between a mix of gels, bars, and real food. But our slightly slower than expected pace combined with eating well meant that I was really close to be completely out by the time we were to reach Casey again. 

Once the sun started to come up, we both became more talkative again. Even though Roger had pronounced very early on that he was dropping at mile 32, I was hopeful he'd feel better when the sun came back up. He was feeling better, but not good enough to continue so I tried to enjoy having someone to talk to while I could.

In the last couple miles before meeting Casey, it was light enough to see a bear scamper away down the trail. Roger was mad that I scared it off as he wanted to take a picture of it. I was happy to not have a bear encounter.

Finally, we reached the trailhead and hiked the paved path up to the observation tower at Kuwohi. 

Casey was waiting with the cooler and our drop bags. Roger confirmed he was done for the day and passed off his SPOT to me so they could track me. He got the car key from Casey and went to go get warm.

I set to work to make myself mashed potatoes using my JetBoil and began the process of packing and unpacking my vest. I left my headlamps and extra layers with Casey for the next 9 miles. I packed a few hours worth of food, refilled my flasks, ate some bacon, and chugged some Dr. Pepper.

There were a few hikers standing around near the tower and one started asking questions about how far I had gone and how far I was going. They cheered me on as I headed down the trail towards Newfound Gap.

I felt great after getting some real food in and started jogging where I could in the next section. It was nice to change up the muscles I was using and there were some decent sections in which I could run as it was a net downhill. It seemed a little daunting that I was not even halfway done yet, but I was still motivated to get it done and feeling good.

I came into Newfound Gap ahead of schedule and shocked Casey as I came through the parking lot. She set to work again, helping me get everything I needed for the final push. The next time I would see them again would be when I was finished. So I took my time to make and eat some more mashed potatoes, drink more Dr. Pepper, and pack as much real food in my vest as I could.

Leaving Newfound Gap, I was in great spirits.

I spent the next few miles passing day hikers on the stretch to the Boulevard Trail. Part of me was glad there were people around, but there was another part that was ready to just be by myself and not have to worry about asking people to step out of the way.

Eventually, the crowds thinned out and I got my wish.

I continued to feel pretty good until the late afternoon and then the sleepy feeling hit me again. I started to worry about filtering water and all the sources seemed to be just muddy sludge with no discerning source. Eventually, I came upon a spot that had a decent trickle and though it took a few minutes to fill a flask, I welcomed the break. Unfortunately, in my sleepy state, I couldn't figure out why my filter seemed to be leaking and got really frustrated. I filled up one flask and then gave up. 

At this point, I decided to just lay down and see if I could fall asleep for 10 minutes. But I knew after trying to close my eyes for a minute or two that it wasn't going to happen and I was just wasting time. So I got up and pushed towards Tri-Corner Knob (mile 56), the place I had gathered enough intel on to have reliable water.

Coming into that shelter, I felt defeated. I still had so much more trail to cover and I was feeling rough. My feet were killing me and it seemed daunting how much longer I was going to be out there. At the shelter, I was grateful that 1) the water source was easy to find and fast-flowing and 2) my filter was okay, I just didn't have it screwed on tightly before. As I was filtering, a section hiker came over to get water as well and she made me feel like a million bucks as she asked me a bunch of questions about what I was doing and all things ultrarunning.

Feeling a little better due to the hiker and restocked with water, I continued on only to see one more person on the trail the entire rest of the way. I debated on putting on my headphones to see if some music would help my spirits, but decided it would be smarter to not drain my phone battery and to be fully engaged. 

I was still eating pretty well, but definitely getting palate fatigue and having to chase everything solid with water to get it down. My feet were hurting more and more. I had no choice other than to continue and I was hoping that this low patch would pass. 

The second half had a lot more blowdowns on the trail due to the hurricanes last fall. Everything was obviously passable in some way, but I spent a good bit of time trying to decide if I was going to climb over or under trees. With 100k on my body, neither felt very easy! 

As the sun started to go down, I soaked in the last little bit of daylight. The golden hour was especially beautiful and though I knew my photos wouldn't do the scene any justice, I stopped a few times to take a few. 

I dug out my headlamp eventually and then headed into the night. I was hoping that I would be able to do a least a little running in the final push as the trail is pretty much downhill in the last 6 miles. However, it was very steep and full of rocks coming off the final summit. My feet were destroyed and they felt like they were on fire. Running hurt. Walking hurt. I did feel good cardio-wise and my legs were fine. My feet were definitely the weakest link on this particular run.

Luckily, the steepness and technicality of the trail got better as I descended. I jogged a bit when I could, deciding it didn't matter since my feet hurt no matter what. As I was flipping through my watch data, I saw the battery had only about 3% left with a couple miles to go. Stupidly enough, this gave me some motivation to keep going so it didn't die before I finished. Unfortunately, in the last mile, it died and I just estimated I had less than 20 minutes to go before finishing.

At long last, I finally saw headlights come into view and jogged the final stretch to the road. I threw myself down on the dirt, relieved to finally be off my feet. Done! 

Casey and Roger congratulated me while I whined about everything hurting.

Eventually, they helped me off the ground so I could change into dry, clean clothes and begin our journey back home. It had been a long couple of days for them too! We all decided that Waffle House was a good idea and made a pit stop there in the middle of the night. I thought I was starving but only picked at my food before finally giving up and crawled back into the car to finally get some sleep.

After Casey helped Roger and I in my house, I went to go put my watch on the charger and as it powered back up, I am quite certain that in my delirium that I accidentally deleted the activity. Only another runner would understand how stupidly sad I was about this. I know I did the route and not having it recorded doesn't take away from that, but I was exhausted and it bothered me beyond what I care to admit at the time. 

Once I had proper sleep, food, and time, I finally had the perspective to be really happy for all the good in the adventure and laugh at all the misfortunes. I think about how silly it is that I continue to do these really hard things that sound pretty awful sometimes when I go back and reread what I was going through. 

But I truly love the beautiful places I get to see and the challenge of it all. It's why I say never again, but probably again. 

In my sphere of crazy runner friends, it sometimes doesn't feel as special as I've surrounded myself with people who think nothing of this kind of thing. But this one was pretty special as it had been on my list for a long time and I was highly motivated because I was happy to be finally doing it. As always, very grateful to be healthy enough to do these adventures and have really great people to share them with.

Boston Marathon #11: Make Your Own Luck

Part I - sharing magic amid broken traditions 

I'm a big fan of traditions. And superstitious about everything when it comes to running the Boston Marathon. So when Adam and I decided that it would be safer for him to stay home this year, I was really bummed for multiple reasons. How was I going to run well without him there? He's my good luck charm!

For months prior to the race, I was really hung up on this. I was running healthy (not PR healthy, but healthy), I knew the course well, but I couldn't shake the notion that maybe my luck was going to run out.

I had to figure out a way to mentally flip the script for myself. A few weeks out from race day, I was out running (shocking!) and had this idea to replicate a really cool moment I'd have the year before. 

I was eating breakfast in the hotel lobby last year in Boston a few days before the race and started chatting with a woman who was running her first. A friend of hers had given her a few beaded friendship bracelets that said Run Boston on them to hand out. She gave me one and I had a great race despite the debacle of last year's week leading up to the race (re: emergency kidney stone surgery for Adam). And lest you think I've gone off the rails for thinking some beads and a piece of string makes a race, it obviously was more about everything else it signified for me in that moment. 

So I decided that I'd replicate this moment with my own twist. 11 bracelets, some with Run Boston, and the rest with mantras that I love. For my own bracelet for this year's race I chose make your own luck.

A push for myself to make the most of situation. Healthy, but nowhere near PR shape. Without my Adam good luck charm, but knowing he was cheering me on safely at home with the world's best caregivers (thanks Megan & Frank!). 

My goal was to give the bracelets out over the weekend to random people. I had no plan about this and trusted that it would just make sense when the moment popped up. 

I got to Boston Saturday morning just before 10am and dropped my bag off at my hotel. I decided to walk to the expo so I could go past the finish line and take some photos. And as I was walking down Boylston, I spotted Cary who I met at Merrill’s Mile many years ago. He and his teammate got the first 2 bracelets. And I'm not saying it was because of the bracelet, but Cary PR'd this weekend. 

The line for bib pickup was a marathon in and of itself, but I had nowhere to be. Joe, who I met in Antarctica, was not too far behind me in line and so I waited for him before we went into the expo. He introduced me to his friends that were running and we all had lunch together. I gave Joe the 3rd bracelet and MJ, Joe's incredible wife, was the recipient of the 4th bracelet. She picked the one that said believe and after a few months of not running due to injury, Joe managed to finish Monday.

Joe needed gels and we went on a shopping adventure to find them. I decided to stand outside Marathon Sports because it was crazy crowded inside. As I was leaning against the stanchions, I started chatting with a guy closer to my parents age. He was running his first Boston Monday, but was quick to point out his wife had run it many times before. As she came walking up, I gave them bracelets 5 and 6. He was so genuinely touched that I was glad our lunch table was ready because I might have started crying happy tears right there.

I went back to my hotel to check in and was super impressed with all the things they did to make runners feel extra special all weekend. We got a goodie bag upon check-in with gels, electrolytes, blister kit, free drink ticket, etc. Though I did my own thing for breakfast, they had a spread for runners on race morning. And after the race, they had balloon arches in the lobby with the entire staff cheering runners as they came hobbling back in. They took a Polaroid of each runner in the balloon arch and put it on a magnet as a keepsake. Lastly, at some point after I finished the race, there was a drawstring bag hanging on my door with more goodies, including a framed photo with my time and name on. You know what else was in the bag? A beaded Boston 26.2 bracelet. 

After a shower and rest, I ventured out for dinner at a restaurant around the corner from the hotel. They had Maine Lunch on tap, a ridiculously great beer that I can only get in bottles at home. And though it was not full of carbs, I had to get the prosciutto-wrapped burrata salad. If I'd had a slab of chocolate cake, I probably could've just died after that and gone out on top.

I definitely did not need another drink when I got back to the hotel, but YOLO or something. I bellied up to the bar and had a glass of prosecco. I started talking to a woman next to me who was running and at age 64 was aiming for a 3:45 and had run 3:31 a couple years ago in Chicago. Wow! I realized I'd left my bracelets in my room and hoped she'd still be in the lobby when I got back to give her one. She was (bracelet #7) and when I saw her after the race, she showed me she had worn it. 

On Sunday, I went for a shakeout jog in Boston Common and was planning to just laze around the rest of the day. But Vivian (who I met while racing UTMB) was going to the finish line and possibly getting lunch nearby. We never met up that day, but did have dinner after the race. 

Spoiler, this is a post-race pic:

But her suggestion pushed me out the door and I had lunch at a place on Newbury Street. As a singleton with no reservation I once again found myself at the bar. I decided to have an Athletic Brewing, aka a non-alcoholic beer, and the guy sitting next to me pointed to his Athletic Brewing shirt and said, "nice choice."

He and I started talking and turns out he's an ultrarunner who has done Western States. We clearly did not run out of things to talk about.  I think by now you'll know that he was the recipient of bracelet #8. 

After he left, I got to talking to an older couple on the other side of me who asked me if I was running. They were there to support their daughter who'd raised a ton of money for Dana Farber. I asked them if they were going to see her before the race and gave them a bracelet (#9) to give to her. Y'all, this father was so touched by this that he had tears in his eyes. I gave these strangers hugs and popped out as quickly as possible, like some kind of Boston Marathon fairy. 

In the middle of all my bracelet gifting, my friend Angelika who I'd met through Halfmarathons.net reached out so we could meet up. I'd saved her a bracelet and hope I could get it to her before the race. That afternoon, she came to my hotel to get one (#10) and we talked for a few hours in the lobby. She brought me chocolate croissants and we shared all of our upcoming crazy adventures. 

After she left, I ordered a pizza and then went down to CVS to buy a Snickers for my prerace ritual. I sat in bed eating my pizza and watching The Office until I made my final preparations before nodding off to sleep.

I slept well and woke up before my alarm. Being in wave 3 and right next to Boston Common where the bus loading area is meant that I had so much time in the morning. I drank coffee, ate a muffin, and got dressed. I put my last bracelet on and hoped my bus seatmate would be a willing recipient. 

She was a 22 year old running her 1st Boston, 2nd marathon, and her palpable excitement was exactly the energy I needed to be next to. I'm never not excited to be running Boston, but seeing it through the lens of someone's first time reminded me why. 

And since I've clearly gone off the deep end with all things being serendipitous in the universe, would you believe that the one bracelet I had left was the one with my own race mantra on it? And I only made one of them with my mantra besides my own!

I let each person choose so it wasn't like I made a conscious choice to have this happen. #11 was exactly what it needed to be. Her already excited state skyrocketed after I gave her the bracelet and I finally started to believe in my own mantra.

Now I just had to go run 26.2 miles. Easy, right? 

My seatmate and I parted ways in the Athlete's Village as she was in wave 2. I went to the portapotty and then sat down for a short while before they called my wave 3. 

As I neared the corrals, I was slapped hard with emotions. I was happy to be wearing sunglasses because phew, there were major happy tears rolling down my glittered cheeks. I wasn't expecting to feel all the feelings so hard, but in some strange way, I welcomed how much I still was so grateful to be there.

After another portapotty stop, I squeezed in with my fellow corral 2 friends and waited for the gun to go off at 10:50am.

Part II - the race, aka making my own luck

Crossing over the start mat, I waved at the start line cameras and then settled into race mode. It seemed less chaotic than in years past for me. Maybe I'm more patient, maybe I just knew what to expect, maybe I went out easier. In any case, I didn't feel boxed in as much. 

As much as I didn't want to, I looked at my splits the first 4 miles because I was trying to not go out too fast. It was warm just standing around and I knew within minutes of running that it was going to be a toasty one. I told myself to back off after the first 4 miles because while there are still plenty of rollers, it does flatten out and I needed to chill. 

After that point, I tried to just run by feel and only checked the overall time a few times to make sure I hadn't missed my 30 minute eat timer. Precision and Torq gels choked down every 30 minutes. As I went through Framingham and Natick, miles ~6-12, I truly thought I was running 8-8:15s. I didn't feel bad, but I didn't feel flowy or fast. I tried to keep a few people in my sights around me who seemed to be running a similar pace and stay with them. I saw Allison who I know from IG somewhere in these miles and I tapped her aggressively on the shoulder. She almost fell and I was so relieved I didn't completely knock her over. We ran for a hundred meters or so, but her pace was a little too spicy for me and I yelled at her to go get it. 

I high-fived a bunch of kids, smiled at funny signs, and thanked the volunteers at the hydration stops. Sometimes I felt like I was forcing my own hand at this, like, dammit, you will have fun and be grateful! But then I slid into that mode more honestly as the day went on. 

I was taking 2 cups at every stop when I could. One to drink (Gatorade or water), one to pour over my head (water only obviously). I'd feel a sense of relief every time I doused myself. 

As I came into Wellesley, my intention was to stay out of the chaos and just watch from a safe distance. But then I decided in the moment that if a PW (personal worst) was on the line, why not have the most fun? It was too hot to risk a beer, but I hadn't stopped for a kiss since 2018, my PW and the torrential rain year. So I randomly stopped and nearly broke my nose on this poor girl's cheek because I misjudged my speed smashing into her face. Oops.

I chastised myself for that in the next mile, a nice distraction from the task at hand. And once I came back to the present world, I realized I had been hydrating so well, I had to pee. Not great when you're in the middle of a race, but at least I knew I was hydrated! So I spotted a free portapotty and hopped in. My wet shorts (from the water dousing, not pee!) were a struggle to get off and on, but I didn't lose too much time. And I felt much better!

The Newton Hills were up next and I had no idea where I was at time-wise. So I let my self just take them really easy on the ups and hold an honest pace on the flats and downs. The 2nd and 4th (Heartbreak Hill) had me reduced to a shuffle this year, but I still managed to hoof it up without any walk breaks so I'll take it as a small victory. 

I looked for MJ near mile 17, but in my brain fog, forgot she was going to be on the left side and was scanning the wrong crowd. Doh! She got a video of me and my ignorant bliss anyway. 

The last 5 miles after the hills are my favorite for many reasons, but I had so many shuffle moments early on that I was worried I was going to be slogging in this section. But the magic prevailed and as soon as I hit the downhill, I felt new life breathed into me. The BC kids were loud and in my face and I welcomed all of it. I pointed at the ones screaming my name and finally felt like the person I'd been waiting to show up all day arrive. 

The last few miles I truly had no inkling of my time until my eat timer went off at 3 hours in and I was well past mile 22. I really thought I'd been running 9 minute miles in the hills. Which I'd been okay with, I was going to finish it and found some ways to make it fun. But when the timer went off and I realized 3:30 was still on the table, I actually muttered to myself what the fuck? 

I tried to maintain some sort of push while not destroying myself in the last 5k. Get to the last water stop, get your dumb Citgo picture, don't gas out before the Hereford climb, don't start your finish kick until at least the mile 26 sign. 

I smiled as I saw the places Adam has cheered me on before, knowing he was following along safely at home. 

Coming down Boylston feels like the victory lap of the victory lap. I soaked it all in, looking at the crowds 5, 6 rows deep, tears welling in my eyes (again!), feeling like I'd made my own luck.

3:27:28

Always a privilege, forever grateful to do this thing that is so hard, but gives me so much joy.

Atlanta Marathon 2025: Sandbagger City

The Atlanta Marathon is my hometown marathon and this past Sunday, I ran it for the 8th time. They've made course changes over the years and since 2020, it's usually the last weekend in February or first weekend in March. It used to be right around St. Patrick's Day, but I actually like that it's a little earlier now as it is typically cooler weather. 

I decided to sign up just a week out from the race as I had been recovering from Rocky Raccoon 100. I knew I wouldn't be crazy fast, but I felt healthy and wanted to go enjoy some type 2 fun. I decided to pay for will call to pick up my bib on race day and after scouring the info, found a parking deck to prepay for near the area they had listed for will call (more on this shortly).

Race morning, I got up at 4:30 to eat breakfast, take the dogs out and feed them, and avoid race day traffic. I hate mornings, but I hate being late even more. 

I pulled into the lot right at 6am and the will call area was an elevator ride down from my parking space. Great! I went back to my car to stay warm and decided to leave around 6:40 to walk over to the start. I ate part of a Snickers and then headed towards the start.

But wait, why are huge crowds of people walking the opposite way? 

Are there that many people who have will call?

Something seemed weird. I had only been walking about 90 seconds when I decided to stop and pull up the race website. Once I pulled up the maps, I realized the race no longer started/finished at Centennial Olympic Park as it had in all the other years I'd run it. 

By stupid luck, I had chosen the parking deck closest to the start/finish. Which was the same place that will call was at. Which was where I just had been and somehow totally was oblivious to the fact this is where the race was starting. 

Wow Carissa, really? 

So that snafu out of the way, I now headed in the correct direction and towards the start corrals. I was supposed to be in wave A according to my seed time and ended up seeing Sarah as I walked into the corral. We chatted for a few minutes and then parted ways so she could meet up with her group.

I saw the 4 hour pacers in wave B so I decided to head back as my plan was to run with them. I was a few rows ahead of them, but figured it would be easy to tuck in behind them. But then the longer I was standing there, the more I realized that there likely would be a TON of runners aiming for that time.

So I decided I would just try to stay a little ahead of them and not get caught up in the craziness. I assumed that as the crowds thinned, it would be easy to just hop in to the 4 hour group later. I wasn't running this race for a PR or BQ, just wanted to go run a marathon. I know, I'm weird.

Well, maybe I'm the world's biggest sandbagger because I never saw the 4 hour group again. 

The gun went off and I stayed very, very relaxed for the first few miles. I had ditched my throwaway in the start corral and got pretty cold standing around waiting. But once I got going, I was super comfortable in my gloves and arm sleeves. It was a little windy, but it was dry and the humidity was super low. What a treat!

Having no skin in the game makes racing so much more enjoyable. I was smiling at the interactions around me, watching my city lighten up in the daylight, and waving at spectators.

I passed a ton of the Kyle Pease groups in the early miles and am always moved by how many people have such big hearts to be a part of that community. They allow people with all kinds of disabilities join in on race day. I hope I can convince Adam to do it sometime. 

The early miles of the course were familiar, despite the start being in a slightly different area. In all the years I've run it before, there are always groups in Little Five Points passing out beer and this year was no different. I made sure to grab a cup! Just a sip, nothing too crazy. But also a reminder to myself to just have fun. 

The miles were ticking off and I realized based on my eat timer beeping every 30 minutes that I was faster than intended. But I running comfortably and decided to just stay with it. I took a gel every 30 minutes and for this race I alternated between Precision, Torq, and GU, 2 of each. 

I saw Eli run-spectating with a few friends in the single digit miles and was so stoked I was looking that way when our paths crossed.

As the course wound through Piedmont Park, I decided to get rid of my gloves. But it was chilly enough that I ended up keeping my arm sleeves on the whole rest of the race! 

I was all smiles through the first half of the race, getting high fives, pointing at funny signs, and thanking volunteers. The course splits between the full and the half somewhere in the 12th mile. There was sign pointing to the left for full marathoners, but volunteers started waving us to the right. I guess the sign was meant for the finish chute and they put it out early!

With the majority of runners in the field doing the half distance, it became noticeably quiet after the split. There were still people around me, but the vibe was very different from those about to finish their race.

One of my favorite sections is going through Clark Atlanta University as the spectators and volunteers are extra loud here. The water stop is always full of good energy! 

The miles started to wear on me in the upper teens for many reasons. Mostly because that's what happens in a marathon, but also because I started pushing a bit more knowing that I probably had a little over an hour left. I rode the waves of feeling good and so-so as they came. 

I welcomed the feeling of gambling with myself with nothing to lose. The easy choice was to just relax and jog it in. I had plenty of fun and the mission was to enjoy the day. But in that last hour, I wanted to see if I could squeeze it down. I knew I wasn't going to be setting any land speed records, but I did want to feel properly wrung out at the finish line. 

The hills chewed me up and spit me out, but I hung on to a steady pace all through the final miles. I heard my eat timer go off at 3:30 and this was after I passed the mile 25 mark. 

Sandbagger city.

I gave it a nice push in the finish chute and finished marathon #54 feeling both properly tired and happy. 

3:37:05

I'm very happy with my 1:51:22 / 1:45:43 splits and feel like they very much reflect the effort I was giving. 

The medals this year were really beautiful and featured dogwood details on both the ribbon and the medallion. It's not as though I wear them at any point after the race, but I do appreciate a good finisher medal!

Next up: Boston!