Boston Marathon 2018: Boot to Boston to BQ

A year ago, I crashed into a marathon PR of 3:13:54 in Boston on a warm day after a winter/spring of chipping away under 3:20. I started ramping up my ultra training soon thereafter and managed to eke out PRs in the 6 hour, 12 hour, and 24 hour timed events along with 100k and 100 mile PRs in the process. October was all about downtime and base miles with a little fun marathon thrown in and November pushed the pace a little faster as I began to recover.

December brought a freak hamstring pull (right hammy) days before the Rehoboth Marathon and I raced despite barely being able to hobble around the office mere days before. 2 weeks later, I felt the best I had since Albany on race day and went after the JAX Marathon hard. It netted me my 3rd fastest marathon time, but my (left) foot that felt tender was definitely barking.

2 weeks went by and though my foot was still kind of iffy when I wasn't running, I decided to race a 6 hour race very last minute. Though I grabbed a 50K PR and a new 6 hour PR, my foot was not happy the days following. What I thought was a bruise in JAX was clearly not. I gave it some rest, ran slowly, but all signs pointed to something wasn't right. After being diagnosed and treated with tendinitis first, I eventually would be diagnosed with a stress reaction and was sentenced to the boot for 6 weeks.

Since getting back into running in 2006, this was by far the longest I had ever gone without running. And while I'd had little flare ups of pain and soreness here and there, I never had anything that wasn't cured by a week of rest. With Boston looming in mid-April, I was definitely worried.

I cross-trained like a madwoman. Partially to keep my fitness levels high to make it easier to return to running and partially to fill the void I felt without running in my life. I lifted weights, I did chair cardio, Pilates, and swam. I biked a few times when I was cleared to, but decided the strap was too irritating to my bum foot.

When the boot came off, I followed the doctor's orders of giving myself a couple of days of walking around before attempting to run. The first run back was slow and I was feeling very out of shape after 2 miles, but my legs had no trouble going through the motions.

There was no real plan in place after that. Boston was less than 4 weeks away and I was stuck between feeling prepared and hurting myself again. So I took it a day at a time. Adding on miles, keeping up the cross-training, and backing off when my foot felt angry. I would make a tentative plan a week in advance and adjust when necessary.

I knew trying to run Boston wasn't smart for long-term, but I also knew I'd regret not trying. There were days up until about a week before that I still wasn't sure if I was going to race. In my heart, I was 100% in, but my head argued about the possibilities of consequences.

But after the girls' weekend in Raleigh, I'd convinced myself it was okay to go for it so all of a sudden I found myself tracking down a Wonder Woman running costume and Nike Vaporfly shoes. I needed everything in my arsenal.

Adam and I traveled to Boston Friday and got checked into our Airbnb, hit up the expo ($$$), and went to a Sox game. Both of us were exhausted by the 7th inning and we ended up leaving before the game was over to get a head start on the way back AND because I had signed up for the B.A.A. 5k on Saturday morning. Adam never leaves games early so this was kind of a big deal!

I had no goals for the 5K other than to just use it as a "shakeout run". Luckily, Amy spotted me as she arrived and we ended up running and talking the whole time. I was grateful that her company kept me from thinking about my foot and we really just hammed it up the whole race.

Saturday also was my 36th birthday so we spent the rest of the day bakery and brewery hopping, capping off our evening with dinner with a few Loopsters at the now-traditional Cambridge Brewing Company.

Rest was on the order for Sunday, but as weather forecasts looked worse and worse, I began to panic a bit about my outfit. Roger and I made it our mission after carb-loading for brunch to find long-sleeved compression tops. After a few busts, we ended up with the same version of a shirt from Lululemon. I cringed at the $78 price tag, but would later have zero regrets about the purchase.

After parting ways with Roger, Adam and I went back to our Airbnb to rest. I picked up some nitrile gardening gloves from a nearby Ace hardware to go over my running gloves and a fleece blanket to stay warm at the Athlete's Village. I made spaghetti with marinara sauce, a green salad, and paired it with a baguette for dinner. Carbed and armed with layers, I was as ready as I could be.

I slept really well the night of the race and woke up to my alarm going off. I took 45 minutes to eat half a bagel and a banana, dress, and lock myself on the patio outside when I was checking the weather. After Adam rescued me, it was time to grab a coffee, hop on the T, and try to find Casey and John at the bus pickup.

Luckily, they spotted me huddling in the crevice of Hermes' front door and we were off to the buses. The 3 of us rode together to Hopkinton and then spent the next hour or so trying to fight off the wind, rain, and mud. The field of the Athlete's Village was a huge mud pit and the areas under the tents were so bad that you couldn't even get out of the rain. It was a shitshow. We just laughed because what else could we do.

Casey saved the day with extra HotHands and a huge trash bag. I was still wet and cold, but at least I was better off!

John and I headed out to the corrals when Wave 2 was called. Under my blanket and trash bag, I had yet to arrange my gels, iPod, or eaten my other bagel half. Realizing I had nothing more than coffee to drink that morning, I grabbed a cup of water from volunteers on the way in.

Practically new shoes, a new top, a new skirt, half of my breakfast, under-hydrated, freezing cold windy rain, and 26 days of training after 7 weeks of zero miles.

The craziest thing is despite all the things stacked up against me, I knew how to run a marathon. It might ugly, but I was determined that once I started, I wasn't going to give up.

With 7 minutes to go, I got in my corral and started to try to stuff my sports bra with my gels and get my iPod clipped. It was too rainy to try to even listen to music so I just shoved the ear buds in my shirt. I was fumbling and remembered to turn my watch on around the same time I ditched my blanket and trash bag poncho. I was trying to get my outer glove back on when the gun went off. It was go time!

I went out with the people in my wave and tried to just stay at a comfortable pace. The Boston course makes pacing difficult because of the steep descents in the beginning that feel way too easy on fresh legs. My game plan was to just stay to the left and let people go by.

As the first miles slipped by, I started looking at my paces and was surprised that I felt pretty good despite me lingering near 8 minute miles. The fear of blowing up after 10 miles (my longest post-injury distance) loomed over me, but I decided to just stay in the moment and deal with it one mile at a time.

As I crossed over the 5K timing mat, I knew that followers at home would see exactly what I was up to. I like to think it doesn't matter, but knowing that people were tracking me only fueled me to see what I could do. 8:05, 7:49, 7:42

From the get go, my right shoe was tied way too loose. I really wanted to stop and tighten it, but the momentum of people was always so intense that I just couldn't make myself stop. So I hoped it wouldn't be an issue and tried to forget about it (spoiler alert: it didn't matter).

I remember coming up on the 4 mile mark quickly and though the people were not out like they were in '16 and '17, there were still thousands of people lining the streets. Staying to the left gave me plenty of opportunity to high five all the kids and I tried to absorb their energy. 7:36

All the sights that have slowly become familiar came into my murky view. With the rain blowing sideways at times, I kept my head down and just followed the footsteps of the runners in front of me. Somehow, I managed to remember to scoop out a gel at mile 5. 7:50

People would shout "Wonder Woman" and "Go Carissa" as I ran past. I was glad I decided to run without music as their shouts would often give me the boost I needed. Every once in awhile I'd point at the person, lock eyes, and give them a big goofy grin. John caught up with me around this stretch and we ran stride for stride until I urged him to go after it. 7:39, 7:48, 7:56, 7:53

At the 15K mark, I noticed that I still felt pretty good all things considering. I knew I still had the ugly miles to go, but nothing was inherently bad other than the freezing rain. I was REALLY glad I had bought the extra shirt and gloves. And I hadn't planned on needing a buff for warmth, but I was REALLY glad I had my ears covered.

At just before mile 10, I remember seeing the familiar open space with the lake in Natick and I'm in awe that I'm actually doing it. Heading into double digits, I know that at the very least, I've given it a good go thus far. I think this is around the time I saw Ken and gave him a big side hug while we were running. He looked super comfortable and I watched him slowly open a gap in front of me. 7:55

I fish for another gel and then grab one from the Clif station at mile 11. I'm drinking water or Gatorade at nearly every stop. The cold is keeping me from feeling thirsty, but I know it would be (ironically?) dumb to be dehydrated given the conditions. 8:02

When we head into mile 12, the scream tunnel seems to be even louder than I remember. I smile to myself as I hear their deafening roar get closer with each step. If there was ever a year for me to get a kiss, I had decided this was it. So I ran down the line and high-fived a bunch of girls until I came upon one who was pointing at her cheek. I stopped, we exchanged a cheek kiss, and I went running down the line again for high-fived. 7:56

My shoe came untied shortly thereafter on my left foot and I stepped over to the shoulder to retie it. With doubled gloves and frozen fingers, I fought mercilessly for a few seconds before ripping off my outer gloves to get a better grip. 8:34

As I hit the halfway mark, I realized I could still actually BQ even if I slowed. This was always an outlying possibility, but I was so much more focused on just finishing and really had no business thinking about time goals.

The back half did start to get tougher and I tried to relax my pace as much as I could, gambling that saved energy would help me on the hills. I did start noticing the "Medical Assistance Ahead" signs with more frequency. Happy to know they were there, but equally happy to not need them. I took a gel earlier than my planned 15 mile mark, hoping to stave off the inevitable fade I was bracing myself to feel. 7:48, 8:10, 7:58

The last downhill before Newton is always bittersweet. It is a beautifully graded hill and at just before 16, you think you will be heading into single digits with grace. But I knew what awaited around the right curve.

Wind whipped wildly on the overpasses and made the trek through Newton even more difficult. After conquering the second hill (my least favorite), I saw some rowdy 20-somethings holding out beer cans and shouting at runners. Much like the Wellesley kiss, this was the year to do it. I grabbed the can from the kid, chugged a big gulp of Natural Light, and jumped back into it with the group yelling "Wahoo Wonder Woman". 8:26, 8:35, 8:16

With just Heartbreak Hill left to conquer, I knew I was going to finish once I got to the top. Every step uphill felt agonizingly slow, but I was afraid if I stopped to walk, l was going to get too cold. So I plodded on, waiting for my watch to beep to indicate another mile marker. Somehow I had in my head that my watch was under each mile marker until about Heartbreak Hill when it dawned on me that it was long, just as it always is in Boston. My 34th marathon and runner math always eluding me. 8:41, 9:01

Normally I get excited for mile 21 and Boston College, but I was bonking hard. Their screams were electrifying and their enthusiasm was incredible despite the horrible conditions. It seemed like when the rain would pick up and become blinding, the crowds would go even more wild. 8:36, 8:49

With 5K to go, I followed the people in front of me as best I could. I was starting to feel delirious and my vision was narrowed to a small tunnel in front of me. The relief of catching the next mile or kilometer marker was all I could concentrate on. Ed caught me in this section and he was grinning ear to ear. I was so happy to see a familiar face! 9:08

When I saw the Citgo sign, I was 50% relieved to know I was going to finish the race and 50% relieved that I was finally going to be able to get warm soon. 9:13

The last mile was a trudgefest. I had nothing left. I followed the blue triple line remembering how comfortable I felt Saturday. Under the overpass and up the final hill to turn on Hereford. 9:45

As I got to the turn, I felt immediate relief as Matt and I spotted each other and then I saw Adam.

The finish line in sight, I glanced at my watch and saw that I would have just enough time to get under 3:40. I had no sprint for Boylston, but felt emotion well up in me as I got closer to the finish mat. I was grinning ear to ear knowing that I was steps away from finishing and in a pretty respectable time.

I did it. I really actually did it. It really is impossible until it is done. 3:39:22

I clicked off my Garmin and hobbled into the finish chute. I felt dizzy, exhausted, and my left contact was smooshed in my eye so I could barely see. I shuffled forward to collect a bottle of water, my medal, and after what felt like an eternity, a heat sheet.

The walk back to the Airbnb quite possibly tested me as much as the marathon. Now that I was no longer running and in soaking wet clothes, I was so, so cold. I walked into the Prudential building from one side, but couldn't figure out how to get to the other in my state of delirium so I had to backtrack. I went back in another section after a few blocks outside and walked past fancy stores dripping wet and looking like a zombie.

I knew I had about 5 blocks to go from the backside of the Prudential building so much like the marathon, I took it one step at a time. I walked past a hotel laundry vent that was blasting warm air and stood with the heat in my. face for a few seconds before making the final push. When I reached the door, I rang the bell and was relieved when Adam came to the door quickly.

I finished the marathon and finally could start to get warm. Soon, I was surrounded by friends, drinking a beer, and recapping the race. The best feeling on Marathon Monday!

Follow this link to see my cross-training/return to running log if you are curious about what I did while I was injured and the weeks post-boot.

My comeback playlist here.

JAX Marathon: Be Brave!

After I finished Hinson Lake in September, word got around the office that I was into running. The marketing department at our parent company, Ameris Bank, asked if I was interested in an entry to the marathon they sponsor in Jacksonville. I jumped at the offer (free marathon in driving distance - yes please!), until I realized I'd have to leave on Adam's birthday.

Fortunately, Adam is super awesome and encouraged me to go. He'd go to dinner and see Star Wars with friends and we could celebrate the evening I came back.

When I signed up, I knew I would just have to see where my fitness was to figure out how I would race. Of course, I wanted to represent the company well, but I also knew that I hadn't been putting the marathon training efforts that have netted me PRs in the past. Rehoboth was so hard and I wondered how the heck I ran 3:13 prior in the year. But I also knew in the first few miles of Rehoboth that I just did not feel strong mentally or physically.

With my runs being all over the place, I was still kind of hesitant to think I was in top form. But I laid down 4 miles without rest on Wednesday at a 6:42 pace and while I felt like I was working, the miles felt really controlled and really smooth. It was probably too close to race day to do a workout like that, but I have a hard time holding back when everything comes together.

I began my 6 hour drive mid-morning on Friday and arrived to JAX around 4:30 or so. After picking up my packet at the LRS, I connected with some of the Ameris executive team who were having dinner at a beautiful country club. I knew no one when I walked out onto the terrace overlooking the St. Johns River, but everyone was incredibly welcoming and I enjoyed meeting a bunch of really great people. I felt really lucky to be a part of the evening - a reminder that change and chance will often lead to really amazing experiences.

Though I wanted to stay longer and chat, I left around 8:00 p.m. to grab breakfast for the morning and check into my hotel. By the time I laid out my gear and climbed into bed, I was ready to sleep. Fortunately, I had 2 really good nights of sleep prior to race day (much different than Rehoboth!) and felt raring to go when I got up. I had a cup of crappy hotel coffee and a sweet sesame seed bun thing I found at the gas station (not a bagel in sight).

My plan was to park at the school for $20 and save myself the pain of trying to find local parking. Unfortunately, I got there right after the spots were filled so like a lemur, I followed cars in front of me until I got to residential street with street parking. A pajama-clad woman came up to my car door and told me I could park in a driveway next to her house in an abandoned lot. Another runner pulled in behind me and luckily saved me from later disaster when he told me I left my dome light on!

I forgot to grab a heat sheet from my car to wear before the race started and it was definitely chilly in just shorts and a tank. Florida people were wearing long sleeves, gloves, tights, etc. But I knew that if it stayed even that chilly for another hour or two, I would be ecstatic. I stood in line for the porta-potties and then meandered over to the start corrals. The 5K, half, and full all started together, but I was about 15 people back and most people "looked" like they were placed correctly ahead of me. After the national anthem and a 1 minute head start for the wheelchair division, the race started right on time.

In my head, I wanted to start with a slower mile and then drop down to the 7:30s - after that, I would see how I felt. I truly was thinking I'd run in the low 3:20s based on Rehoboth and feeling rested and race- ready. However, I felt really, really good from the start. I was jacked up and ready to race. I dropped into my intended race pace within the first half mile, but it felt easy. Of course, in the back of my mind, I feared that it would come back to haunt me, but I told myself to be brave.

The first 5K looped back to the starting line and it was a bit strange that some people were giving a finish kick right as I was feeling truly warmed up. I can't think of another race I've done where the 5K was part of the half & full - I'll admit I was a little jealous they were done and I still had 3 more hours to go! First 3 miles: 7:32, 7:31, 7:21

The next portion of the course, people had started to sort themselves out and the jockeying for position was much more controlled. I would find myself in little packs of people and sometimes they would surge forward and other times I would do the surging. It is so much easier if someone else is the pacemaker - I'd rather chase than be chased. Luckily, I found a few people who were clicking off low 7:20s and I held onto them as long as we were both holding steady. Miles 4-6: 7:23, 7:24, 7:27

I kind of feel like I screwed up my nutrition (in addition to everything else) at Rehoboth so I was very conscious to take gels every 4 miles. I skipped the water stop at 1.5 miles, but I did make sure I was getting water every stop thereafter. For the first half of the race, I honestly felt like I could feel a little boost a couple of minutes after the gel so I figured that something was working in my favor.

The course headed west and looped around a residential area before the half-marathoners split off and went back to the finish whereas the full-marathoners continued to go south. Miles 7-8: 7:25, 7:08 (wheeee!)

While the long stretches of road were incredibly boring in terms of spectators and scenery, I actually kind of prefer to just put my head down and just run hard. There were no major distractions of turns and I could just follow the shoulder of the road or the white stripe of the center line.

I knew I was racing hard, but I still felt so strong and so confident. I suppose I was always waiting for the wheels to fall off because I was kind of surprised at how good everything felt for so long. My legs were fine, my mind was strong, my feet were great, and while I knew I was working hard, I wasn't red-lining by any means. Every time I'd start to lose a bit of confidence, I shook myself back by repeat be brave, be brave. Miles 9-13: 7:23, 7:19, 7:15, 7:21, 7:21

I hit the half in 1:36:50 - a perfect time if I had negative split the race!

It was definitely lonely in those middle miles. I tried to pick off people when I could and the last girl I remember passing was around the 10 mile point. She'd be the only other female I'd see until I got passed around mile 17 or so.

Though I was definitely feeling the effort of moving for nearly 2 hours, I still felt so much better than I had 2 weeks ago. My mind was still in the game and I was pushing at a comfortably hard pace. I had my music blaring incredibly loud, but I just let the tempo of the beat force a faster cadence. Miles 14-17: 7:17, 7:27, 7:15, 7:26

There was no defining turnaround point, but I did start to feel as though the course was headed back north. Luckily, it was completely overcast almost all morning and so there was no sun to discern which direction we were going. And despite being in Jacksonville, the course was so tree protected that I don't recall it being even the slightest bit windy. I was dumping water over my head to keep cool, but I never really felt warm.

A girl passed me at mile 17ish and she said "good job" as she pulled up alongside me. She looked incredibly strong and though I tried to pursue, I eventually watched her drop the pace as mine started to climb. Miles 18-20: 7:26, 7:25, 7:29

As I reached the final 10K, I tried to do runner math. A strong finish would net me a PR. A sustained finish would get me really close. A bonk would still likely be better than 2 weeks prior unless if something really bad happened. So I tried to hold on as best I could. Be brave. Mile 21: 7:42

I felt as though I started to pay the price for going out so hard as each quarter mile became considerably tougher than the last. The mile markers seemed to be spaced further and further apart. Whereas I'd blink earlier in the race and one would pop up, now time seemed to stand still. Miles 22-23: 7:35, 7:48

With 5K to go, I tried to dig deep. I was calculating when I could start to push and wanted to just give it what I had in those last 20 minutes. Just 20 more minutes of running! Mile 24: 7:40

My legs stopped responding. They felt like cement blocks. I stopped looking at my watch, knowing my pace was slipping away. As I came up to the mile 25 aid station, I went running by a woman out walking her dog. She was in the middle of the road and I got too close to the dog. It jumped up on me as I went by and I gruffed out of annoyance. I waited to see if any adrenaline kicked in and was sorely disappointed. Mile 25: 7:46

There was no gas left in my tank. I was running that last mile as fast I could and there was no give. I ticked off the tenths of a mile as I crept closer to the finish line. Just 5 more minutes. Just 4 more minutes. Then, I saw the track and made the sharp right turn across the field to reach the entrance of the track. The rubberized surface was hardly noticeable to my feet and I wondered how 300 meters seemed so long. Mile 26: 8:15

But I got the top of the curve and hauled myself down the straight. Mile 27: 7:40

3:17:35 - 8th female, 2nd in my age group

A year ago, that would have been a really amazing PR. And it is my 3rd fastest marathon ever just 2 weeks after racing one. I'm happy with the outcome. The best part was how great I felt through the first 20 miles - especially the first 10. Those were some of the best miles I have ever raced in my life. I just felt so strong and so confident.

After I laid down in the grass for awhile, I started to walk to my car when one of the women I had met the night before called out to me. She was waiting on her husband to finish the marathon and so I stayed to grab a few finishing photos for him. Then we ended up get another great group picture at the finish.

I still have no idea what my race plans are for the upcoming months. I'd like to drop my marathon time, but I'd also love to race some ultras in cooler temperatures. I have Boston, NYC, and Rehoboth on the calendar for next year, but I'm waiting to figure out how I fill in the blanks.

An ode to my runner widower

Being married to a runner is often thankless. I leave for work at 7:20 a.m. and often don't return home until 8:30 p.m. during peak training weekdays. Dinner is often whatever the quickest thing I can put together - half the time while still wearing my sweaty running clothes. I spend a good chunk of the weekend racking up miles in the woods and then fail miserably at adulting when the nap monster takes over.

I use up all the ice for ice baths and filling my beer Gatorade cooler. My sports bras hang from the laundry rooms for days. I ate both bags of your chips and I'm not even the least bit sorry. I spent approximately $700 on shoes last year. Running shoes. If you know me, you can vouch for the reason why we never take my car anywhere.

75% of our travel expenses over the past 5 years have been to travel to a race. I talk to you about tempos, rabbits, PRs, fartleks, sub-3s, and BQs and you know exactly what I'm saying. I pop blisters on the kitchen floor and haven't had 10 toenails since 2014.

But I'm one of the lucky ones.

You always say you're crazy, I love you, be safe when I'm leaving for the woods at 5:00 a.m.

You brag to your customers about me and always let me know when you helped a runner.

You celebrate when I do well, you know to back off when I've had a tough race or training run.

You have woken up at 3:00 a.m. to see me run for 60 seconds.

You always ask me how far I'm running today and when I get home, you ask me how it went.

You never give me (real) grief about the time and money I spend on running.

You have made friends with my running friends all over the country.

You have volunteered at races and walked 5Ks even though you aren't a runner.

You give me bittersweet inspiration every day to appreciate every moment I get to do what I love.

I don't say it enough - thank you for not only letting me be me, but giving me a reason to be a better version of me.

Don't be afraid to fail. Be afraid not to try.

I blinked and it was September. The malaise of August securely behind me now, I was greeted to the first month of fall with crisp mornings and that thing in the air. At the end of the month, I am attempting to tackle my biggest challenge yet. The base has been built, the miles have been run, and (most) of the hard work is done. 

Last summer, I just raced and raced and raced and tried to learn as much as I could about night running and ultras. This year, I've just been running. Luckily, the new job has been pretty conducive to having a schedule of sorts and I am finally able to say yes to every weekend trail run. Funny thing is, I don't actually need any trail runs in my training. Hinson is basically flat and scores 0 on the technicality difficulty.

But the trails have been good for my heart and my head. Running in the summer in Hotlanta is defeating. I typically do all of my running after work and paces in 90°+ are ugly. I try hard not to compare too much to winter paces, but I am human. Sometimes, I get on the treadmill just so that I can run in 75° and nail some faster times.

I have felt especially tired in the last 2 weeks, but I think that is probably the point of ultra-training? A few times I have started a run and it has been so hard to not just throw in the towel in the first half mile. Taking it to the next level by adding a 6th day and hitting 60+ miles each week has taught me a lot about myself. Mostly that I am hungry all the time. But a little bit about gritting it out when the mind and the body are totally against me.

Truth be told, I feel my running has been subpar lately. I am going into these last few weeks feeling like it's been more of an exception for me to have a good day. Part of me wants to believe it is because I have been putting my legs through the ringer - 600+ miles in the last 2 months and nearly 30,000 feet of ascent. 

But there is always the self-doubt that it feels harder because I'm not as strong. I think that any runner or athlete that has any sort of competitive nature in their blood understands this notion. There is that feeling that you don't want to leave anything on the table to give it your best shot.

This is the last big(ger) week. I am ready to start winding down and see if a little freshness makes me feel better. Last year, I had the goal of hitting 100 miles in 24 hours. I really didn't have any idea what to expect. I had never run beyond 12 hours and my peak distance was 68 miles. Honestly, I don't have that much more perspective this year other than the knowledge that I am capable of running 100 miles in 24 hours - 109.866 miles if you want to get technical about it and yes, I do, thankyouverymuch.

When I learned about the 24 hours US National Team qualifying distance (125 miles) earlier in the year, this seemed like an outlying goal to aim for. Another 15ish miles is only .62 more miles each hour. Seems reasonable in theory, pretty tough in reality. I found out a couple of weeks ago that they raised the bar to 130 miles for women. Those 5 miles are big. This is a whole new kind of runner math. 

So I'm sticking with my original goals in ascending order because it is far easier to tick up, than tick down (mental trick #45082348): 1) finish upright 2) 100K 3) 100 miles 4) PR 109.866 5) Course Record 114.6 6) 125 7) Seriously?

The thing about having a plan for one of these races is that there needs to be not much structure to said plan. You cannot just plug numbers into a spreadsheet or calculator and expect it to happen despite all the history and training. The human element is far too great, especially in longer distances and there is no telling what sort of shit will hit the fan. I cannot control the heat or the rain, the nausea in my stomach, the soreness in my legs, the chafing everywhere, or anything else causing me physical anguish. But I can control how I react to it. 

And much as in life, there is very little I can even begin to feel sorry for myself about. To get to do what I get to do, I'm one of the lucky ones.