NRR: Boston gives me all the feels

A visual recap to Boston that has a smidge to do with the marathon and a lot to do with how I started out year #35.

Adam and I had an early flight on Friday, my birthday. I had petit fours and coffee at 4a.m.

 Then a beer and coffee at 8 a.m. once we were at 30,000 feet.

 Our Airbnb was awesome and our host left pasta and gels knowing I was racing Monday.

I went for a shakeout run along the Charles River. 

 Then we headed to Boylston for finish line pictures.

 A giant plate of nachos.

 And to packet pick-up!

 Going on Friday afternoon has its benefits as I was able to walk right up to the Sam Adam's booth!

 All that expo-ing wore me out so we hit up 7-11 for some slurpees. It was BOGO!

I needed a nap and then I bounced back with a Boston Creme donut.

Age is just a number kids....

A trip to Star Market for some provisions.

 Then I asked this bike taxi for a selfie.

A little FaceTime with my favorite nephew.

 An onto dinner where I consumed tater tots smothered in caramel, peanut butter, bacon, bananas, and cheese. Heaven exists y'all.

Erin made it for a little carbo loading.

And then it was time to hit the sack for our 5K in the morning.

Erin, Adam, and I headed to the 5K and Erin and I did a 2 mile shakeout together. We met up with Bangle and then got ready to run.

Adam gave it every ounce of his body.

 And he got to finish with a little extra help.

We all comiserated over bad races and Adam felt better with food and rest. Erin hung out with us for a bit and then headed home. Bangle, Adam, and I eventually made our way to Cambridge Brewing Co. for dinner. I wore my #teamgwen shirt and tried to capture her surprise.

Jamie joined cause it's tradition and the 5 of us enjoyed a brisk Boston evening.

Then it was onto Pour House for a nightcap and a Mark Remy meetup. Gwen showed us her amazing Jersey driving skills and we all appreciated the curbside service after a long day.

I woke up and did a 20 minute run that was terrible. I felt awful and my mind was still on Adam's race. I took a fake smiley picture. 

And then a real feel. Because sometimes even QC's world can get a little rocky.

But I vented and wrote and slowly felt better. By the time we were headed to Fenway, I was ready for more fun. Bangle, Adam, and I saw a great game in shaded seats on a gorgeous day. I had a beer and a hotdog as my winning pre-race lunch.

Then it was onto Gwen's Airbnb for pasta with her family and a guest appearance by Jay. We talked running and Spartan races and tried to figure out who was most insane.

The evening ended early so we could all try to sleep. I laid out my flat girl and set the alarm.

I rode the bus to Hopkinton and made a friend to chat with while en route. We parted ways at the Village and soon I met up with Matt, Jamie, Eric, and Bangle.

The red bib kids took off and then Gwen arrived along with 2 of Brad' s friends.

THEN I RAN THE BOSTON MARATHON.

See my previous blog if you want race details.

The after party begun when Brad arrived to the AirBnB. We went across the street to have dinner and were joined by Matt and Shanda.

Matt had to make his way back as he had to catch an early flight, but Shanda, Brad, and Gwen came over for beers.

 It was an early night after a long day and I slept very well. We had tickets for the Sam Adams brewery tour in the morning and met Brad, Gwen, and Nicole for an a.m. beer tasting.

We had lunch at Doyle's and sopped up beer with overpriced lobster rolls. Then we bid adieu to Gwen and the boys took naps.

I took a walk over to Boylston and ended up standing in line to have my jacket embroidered with my finishing time. Luckily the guys were still zonked when I got back and we watched TV until it was time for the Last Supper with Brad.

 I walked him to the subway station and took the long way home for a little personal reflection on the weekend while the sun set among the brownstones.

On Wednesday, I went back to the Charles River for a run. My legs were a bit stiff, but warmed up enough to let me run 5 miles. The morning was stunning.

Our final meal was at The Friendly Toast where I had a French toast donut with sausage, egg, and cheese.

Before our flight, we wandered around the Boston Public Library, taking in the odd mix of very historical and very modern.

I felt at ease when I left. Happy that it was perfectly unperfect. Happy that it holds dear memories. Happy to have the opportunity to return to make more.

Boston #3: Forever Chasing the Unicorn

The crowd around me is quiet. Idle chatter subsides and nervous energy begins to pulse. I know nothing and everything about this feeling. The anticipation of how the next few hours will play out is largely not in the ability of my body, but in the ability of my mind.

Chancing fate and rebelling against my own superstitions, 3 of my 5 gels are new flavors. My bib number is odd when I prefer even. I'm wearing "strongly discouraged" headphones. The tank I am wearing was a gift I received Friday morning--it's generously sized and I have it safety pinned under my arms. I didn't have any calories planned after breakfast and I ate a bag of discarded trail mix Matt left in the Athlete's Village. My shoes have at least 1,000 miles on them. I clocked my fastest marathon time by 6 minutes 6 weeks prior.  I have to pee.

I stand in the second row behind the rope of wave 2, corral 3. As the volunteers drop the rope, we walk forward. My heart is racing. I put in my earbuds.

The gun goes off.

The pack surges forward and we all move from walk to shuffle to run in seconds. It is a tremendous thing to watch if you can focus on something outside of your mind. A sea of runners begin to snake down the hills of Hopkinton. I stay calm, avoid checking my Garmin, and just run at what feels like a comfortable pace to sustain. 7:34

I want to stay atop being cool and hydrated and though I normally scoff at the first hydration stop of any race, I dump a cup of water over my head. Remembering that I lost a bit of speed last year to weaving, I made the conscious effort to just stay to the left as much as possible in the early miles to hit the second set of tables. The next 3 miles, I look at my watch on occasion as the course descends quickly towards Ashland. I pull back as I see myself drop into the low 7s and reign in the speed. 7:18, 7:18, 7:18

Ashland is the first treat of the iconic crowds of Boston. People are lined half a dozen deep and it. is. LOUD. Even through my earbuds, I can feel the rumble and I get caught up in the excitement of grabbing high fives and reading silly signs. 7:16

The course has a slight up in mile 5 (where I eat my first gross Tutti Frutti GU) and then a nice down heading through 10K mark and into Framingham. 7:16, 7:13

Framingham is louder still and while my pace seems great, I want to make sure I am still having fun in case things go south. Going in for high-fives takes a little extra effort, but it is incredibly worth it. I am riding high on the adrenaline from the crowd when I hear my name being shouted. I see Gwen's friends Cathy and Nicole frantically waving right next to me!

Fresh with vigor from the crowds, I knock off the next miles without really thinking too much about pace or effort and head for the 15K mat. 7:14, 7:15, 7:13

I decide to go ahead and try to keep the calories in and try the Gingerade GU just after the mile 9 marker. It was better than the Tutti Frutti GU, but that's about as rave as the review gets. Gatorade has sometimes not settled well with my stomach in hot races so I decided to just stick with mostly water.

Natick has a gradual incline through a little past the mile 11 mark and then a nice decline to mile 12. 7:13, 7:17, 7:14

Heading towards the halfway mark, I start battling the demons. It starts to feel harder and I allow myself to pull back my effort a tad to feel comfortable. There are sections in the direct sun that I feel uncomfortably warm. Later, I'd appreciate the tailwind, but the feeling of lack of air movement coupled with the blazing sun was tough. I was taking 2 cups of water when I could at each stop. One to drink a few sips from and one to dump on my head/face/neck/back. 7:18

My spirits started to lift as we headed into the Wellesley scream tunnel. I ate second Tutti Frutti gel and reaffirmed that is was not palatable. I watched as girls made faces when runners kissed their cheeks and read their ridiculous posters. I contemplated how we needed to make this a 21st century version and have a male version. Then I decided that was dumb because kissing an 18 year old boy sounds pretty gross actually. 7:16

The funk returned again in mile 15, but I also knew that conserving my energy for the Newton Hills was a smart move. That gnarly downhill in mile 16 only works if you know what to expect when you reach the bottom. 7:27, 7:13

A blast from an open fire hydrant somewhere in the bottom of the Newton Hills changed my experience over the next few miles. The cold blast caused me to shriek and I felt pleasantly cool for the next few minutes. I ran a conservative first half in 2015 and felt pretty good as I tackled the hills. Last year, I went out hard and paid for it somewhere along Commonwealth Avenue. This year, I felt incredibly capable as I climbed up the first set of hills. 7:21

Unfortunately (or fortunately?), my Garmin went haywire after that. It was registering an extra mile all of a sudden. I tried to set a lap pace, but then got confused when it buzzed for the next mile. So, much like my very first BQ in 2013, I just put my head down and ran. This was far from my first marathon. I didn't need my watch to tell me how to run 8.2 more miles.

I had my first delicious GU of the day, pineapple! My stomach was starting to feel a bit queasy, but forcing those calories down helped keep me out of the bonk zone. There were lots of runners now walking on the Newton Hills. A few people were still charging up with me and I tried to catch those that hadn't paid the stiff price of going out too fast.

Heartbreak Hill was as delightfully sinful as always. I now see it as the marker in the sand of getting to the finish. Once you get to the top, it is (almost) all downhill. There is less than an hour of running left and the crowds are so intense that it is impossible not to feel how special this race is.

I definitely know my pace has slowed down, but I am passing a ton of people. I begin to look for the familiar sights and work to click off the mile markers. The train tracks, the first peeks of the Citgo sign, and finally I see the last little incline on the highway overpass. I know that the dip under Massachusetts Avenue is coming and I start to get excited.

As I cross under the bridge, someone taps me on my shoulder. Mr. Bacon comes up on my left side and I yank out my earbuds. I exclaim how I am so happy to see him and immediately realize my blunder when that means he has not had a great day. He takes it gracefully and urges me to run on ahead and I continue the push.

At Hereford, I turn right and the crowd is electric with energy. I make a beeline for the far right side of Boylston, knowing Adam is standing somewhere along the 3rd flower bed. I look for his blue hat, exhausted from 26 miles, and hungry to give us redemption. We finally see each other for the first time as runner/spectator at Boston and both erupt into excited cheers.

Seconds after I pass him, I look at my watch and see 3:12:XX with the knowledge that Boylston is a much longer stretch than it appears. This is it. A PR is seconds on the table. Every stupid fast finish training run is being called into play. Every extra .2 miles I sprint from the last boardwalk to the gravel is for this moment.

Spectators roar as I maneuver to run along the far right. I glance at my watch every 15 seconds. As I approach the finish line, I see that I am just under my PR from 6 weeks ago.

Sweet, sweet victory!

3:13:54

Sheroes Take Raleigh: Lucky Girl Edition

With my legs full and heart heavy, I suddenly became awestruck around 7 p.m. on Sunday. Alone in my Jeep with a bag of Starburst jelly beans and the remnants of post-race Gatorade, I thought about how incredibly lucky I was/am.

To be fortunate enough to travel.

To be confident enough to road trip alone (and smart enough to fix my overheated car!).

To be healthy enough to not only run a marathon, but to pace a time that I was following just 4 years ago.

To be surrounded by inspiring people all weekend long.

To be happy to go home to Adam and the puppies.

Everything just seemed so damn fabulous and I was pinching myself that this was my reality.

Megan painted my nails Thursday night ala Rock n' Roll themed. (Btw, she's my best friend. You can't have her.)

I made my way from Atlanta to Raleigh via a couple of stops. I met up with my friend Matt for a coffee and bagel in Greenville where we talked about running, running, and more running. Then I got back on the road with full intention to find a little park or trail that I could get a few miles in. I zoomed out Google maps and spotted a town named Climax between Charlotte and Raleigh that would only delay me by an extra 20 minutes.

What weirdo stops to run in a town named Climax?

I started to change into running shoes in a strip mall parking lot, but changed my mind when some dude asked me if I needed help finding something. I promptly found a nearby church parking lot and ran repeats up and down the driveway. As I was walking around/cooling down, I wandered over to the cemetery and prompted could not take a picture. I'm so terrible, but you guys....in Climax? I just can't.

So after my little pit stop, I drove onwards to Raleigh and about 15 minutes from Jen's place, my car starts to beep at me. It's overheating. Derp. I cross my fingers that I can make it the next few miles and later determine that the coolant container is bone dry.

Jen and I catch up briefly and then we drove to the airport to pick up Angie. We had a little time to kill before getting Caitlin at the train station so we drank IPAs and talked about running.

Once we collected Caitlin, we headed to packet pick up for Sunday's race and grabbed our bibs, shirts, and pacing sticks.

Then we went to a brewpub for beer and food. I had a whole pizza. We ate a bunch of cheese. It was pretty heavenly.

The four of us then returned to Hotel Jen and watched Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt until we crashed.

In the morning, we headed over the Umstead for a short shakeout run. We ran for about a mile before intersecting with the Umstead 50/100 course and followed the trail until reaching a 3-way intersection. There was a nearby aid station and we cheered on runners for a bit until heading back. We were just chatting and cheering and all of a sudden, I saw Jay running the opposite direction. I met him at Hinson Lake and he ran miles 97.5-100.5 with me. He was literally the only person besides the timer to see me cross the finish line of my first 100 miler! Naturally, I turned around and ran with him for a short while before letting him carry on with his race. But not before getting in his race photo.

As I was running back to catch up with Angie, Caitlin, and Jen, I stopped in nearly the same spot when I saw Casey!!!!!! She was happy and smiling and I knew she was having a killer day. It was so awesome to run with her briefly because by the time we got to our aid station to volunteer, she had already finished.

I finally made my way back to my other friends and we walked along the course for a bit cheering on runners and enjoying a beautiful morning in the woods. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.

Eventually, we wandered back to the car and got cleaned up. Jen took us to a great rooftop restaurant where we enjoyed beer (notice a theme?) and lunch.

Then it was onto our volunteer shift at aid station #2 at Umstead. I was super excited to help out and couldn't wait to cheer on the runners. Chris got us all set up when we first got there and we relieved a few people that had been there for the earlier shift. He asked if anyone could help out with cooking and I immediately volunteered. I cooked up hotdogs, hamburgers, veggie hamburgers, chicken breasts, potato soup, lentil soup, and chicken broth. My vantage point at the grill allowed me to see runners coming into the aid station and I helped call out numbers to the timer.

It was ridiculously fun. 

At least 50% of the fun was because I was teamed up with Rogelio and we were either talking about running or cracking jokes the entire 5 hours. We were slinging hamburgers and encouraging runners all afternoon. While I am super tempted to come back and try to run, I would be thrilled to come back and volunteer.

At 8 pm, I was sad to leave, but knew that we had to try to grab dinner and sleep for our own marathons in the morning. Though I had been snacking all afternoon (a hot dog here, a piece of pizza there....), I was ready to try to top of the calories. Ha!

We laid out our flat girls (someone has a picture of all of them--I failed to take one).

On race morning, I drank a cup of coffee and had some bread with Nutella before we piled in Jen's car to head to the start. It was a bit chilly and windy and we sought refuge in a hotel lobby after bag check. Around 6:45p.m., we went out to the corrals. Caitlin followed me with a 3:45 PR as her goal and Angie and Jen headed back to pace the 4:45 group. John immediately caught up with me and Casey nicely offered to take our trash and donuts I promised John.

I met the other pacer, Teresa and she said that she was just coming off of a foot injury and might peel off at 11-12 miles. I told her that I was happy she didn't seem super OCD about the whole thing and would just kind of go with the flow depending on the hills, water stops, etc.

Rock n' Roll actually does a great job of stopping each corral at the start by 30 seconds to alleviate congestion on the course. Perhaps because I was holding the sign and people were bunched behind me I never felt like I had to do any weaving? Teresa and I chatted for the first few miles about very basic stuff and a few runners came up and introduced themselves as they ran alongside us.

I panicked a bit when we hit the first mile marker too fast and constantly was looking at my wrist to try to stay on pace. I had printed off 2 wrist bands with pacing charts on them. One that was perfectly even splits of 8:34 the entire way and one that accounted for the hills that was an even effort. We continued to trend under by about 5-10 miles the first few miles, but I knew that the back half was loaded with hills as well so I was hoping that anyone that might still be with me might appreciate a slightly slower pace. Bad pacer!

The weather was pretty perfect for most people. I was too warm as always, but I dumped water over my head a few times. The easier pace effort made me really glad I wasn't going for a PR. Too warm and too hilly for a PR effort.

I only glanced back a few times to see the pack of runners following my little stick slowly dwindle as the mileage increased. Once we reached the split where the half-marathoners took a different course, we were really a small pack. Teresa disappeared from my sight for a bit, but I kept moving ahead and looking at my watch trying desperately to not screw up someone's race.

Just after the turnaround at Meredith College around mile 10 or so, I saw Teresa pull ahead of the group and slowly increase the pace. I panicked a bit, looking at my watch and seeing we were at an 8:10 pace. I didn't want to try to catch her because we were already trending under, but I was concerned that maybe I was doing something wrong? But I had the pacing stick sign, so I just let her go and assumed that maybe she was just going to peel off and stop.

As we headed into the teens, my core group made themselves known. I talked a little with Clark, running his first marathon, and John and Patrick who had some pretty amazing times in their running career and were looking to run a little faster than 3:45. I tried to make sure to pump up the crowds as we ran by and wahooed as much as possible. I collected a bunch of high-fives and thanked as many police officers and volunteers as I could. I took a grape otter pop from a cute little girl and got "lei'd" around mile 22.

By the time we got into the last hour or so, the core group were the ones left standing. I knew everyone was hurting. My pain was masked by the task at hand. Somehow my mind covered up the fact that I had run 22-23 miles and getting these guys to the finish was my #1 priority. I was smiling so much that my face hurt. Around mile 24, John and Patrick decided to stay on our slightly faster pace while I held back a bit aiming to come in as close to 3:45 as possible.

Clark stuck with me and trudged up the hills even after I lied and told him there were no hills. I told him and another guy around mile 25 that they can do anything for 10 more minutes. Just 10 more minutes! He was hurting bad, but still moving and I backed off the pace to ensure that I didn't lose him in the final stretch. Once we crested the actual last hill, he finally was able to see the finish line and shot out ahead of me.

So I came down the final quarter mile of the finishing chute by myself. Womp, womp. I actually stopped to give the Geico Gecko a hug to kill off a few seconds. 3:43:56 was my finish time. A minute fast. Oops. Bad pacer!

I got my medal and water and then immediately sought out Clark to give him a hug and congratulate him on finishing his first marathon. A few steps later, I caught up with John and Patrick and we gave each other fist bumps before carrying on our way.

John, Casey, and Caitlin all found me around the same time and we were all smiles with all of our races successfully completed!

Caitlin and I grabbed our gear, headed to collect our finishers' jacket (swag!), and went to the beer garden to bask in the sun.

A couple of people came and talked to us in the beer garden, including a few Marathon Maniacs and we were all geeking out about our favorite thing--RUNNING!

Angie, Jen, and Laurie joined us soon thereafter and we stood around a bit before we headed off to grab food and (more) beer.

Unfortunately, all good things must end and I was faced with saying my goodbyes on Sunday afternoon way too soon.

But instead of feeling sad as I headed down the road with the windows cracked on a 65 degree day, classic rock jamming loud, and a car full of stinky running gear, I was feeling lucky. This life stuff can be sticky and complicated and crazy, but it also can be simple and spontaneous and undeniably fun. 

Snickers Albany Marathon RR (aka 28 Marathons Later: From 4:01:09 to 3:13:58)

Sunday A.M., 3/5/2017

Less than 24 hours after the race is complete and I am stewing on the facts.

I've created a monster. 

I am addicted to the hesitancy of mile 8 to go the distance, the self-doubt of mile 17 to maintain the speed, and the sheer physical pain that makes every mile 25 a negotiation to just get to the finish.

It is the penultimate in addiction. The more I train and race, the more I need to go faster and further. I am still in denial about how it truly makes me feel. How can I have had a huge PR yesterday and all I can think of today is what could I have done to go faster?

Who is this person? 

A look at the slippery slope after the race report....

*********************************************************

I made the 3 hour drive to Albany by myself. A rather large contingent of local runners were going as well and offered me a ride, but I was camping (thanks to the kindness of Gary, Travis, and Curtis!) and wanted to have access to all the junk in my car. It was an easy drive filled with plenty of car karaoke and sunshine. I had my usual footlong Italian sub at Subway and drank obscene amounts of water.

I got to the hotel with packet pickup just after 3:00 p.m. The 3:15 pacer happened to be one of two pacers manning the table and I spoke briefly with him. Luckily, I remembered to buy a few gels to pad my supply and then I went to my car to strip down for a brief shakeout run. As luck would have it, there was a nice little Greenway section along the river near where I parked and I took it nice and easy for 10 minutes out, 10 minutes back.

As I was coming back along the sidewalk area towards my car, the finish line was being constructed. I apologized as I came through, but I was secretly elated to have the vision of the finish line in my head. The run itself was pretty terrible. I was struggling through 8:00 minute miles and every little twinge was reminding me of their existence. Hello IT band! Hello Achilles! Oh hello shin, it's been awhile!

But I shoved the negative thoughts aside as I posted to Strava. I have to just trust the process.

It was stupid beautiful outside and so I set up my nail salon next to the Ray Charles statue in front of the hotel. Megan was traveling herself this past week, but she gave me all the polish and instruction. I was quickly reminded why she is so much better at it than I!

Runner friends started pouring in to pick up their bibs and I walked over to the hotel to chat with them and meet new friends. A group of us decided to have the pasta dinner offered by the race in the hotel's conference center. It was exactly the kind of pre-race dinner I like--a little roughage, blandish pasta, and a huge piece of chocolate cake.

After dinner, we met up with the guys I was camping with at Mellow Mushroom for a couple of beers. Being around other runners (and most of these people are also triathletes) is delightfully the same. There is never any shortage of sandbagging and poop-talk.

I followed the guys to the campsite (which also happened to be located in a park with a zoo!) and got my tent set up. We sat around the fire for an hour or two before finally calling it a night. I had plenty of sleep the night before so I wasn't really too worried about how well I was going to sleep on race night. I slept like a brick. I pulled the sleeping bag over my face and seriously woke up to my Garmin alarm clock at 5:25a.m. Not once did I wake up in the night panicked that I had overslept.

When I got up, I decided to eat first (2 pieces of bread with Nutella plus a few swigs of Starbucks Iced Coffee) and then disassemble my tent. By the time I got my camp broken down, I was ready to head to the bathroom and then change. I threw my pajamas back on over my race clothes for the drive because it chilly to be in shorts and a tank.

I followed the guys to the start line and parked in nearly the same spot I had the day before--right near the finish and on the same block as the hotel. It was about 6:20 a.m. Small town races really do have seriously pluses sometimes! We immediately saw some of our other friends and all walked into the lobby of the hotel together to stay warm. I ate my Snickers bar (prerace tradition!) and then decided to make one last bathroom break. Somehow I managed to find the darkened conference room restroom completely open.

Walking to the starting line was no different than any other goal race. I was quiet, withdrawn, and swirling in my own self-doubt. The bigger the stakes, the less likely I am to converse. I said hello to the 3:15 pacer after meeting him the day prior at packet pickup, but kept my conversation to a minimum. We were really close to the starting line as the half marathon and full separated within the first mile. I've only ever been that close in small ultras.

An actual cannon was shot and a couple seconds later, we were on our journey. I pressed start on my Garmin and play on my Shuffle. Lindsey Stirling's Take Flight seemed appropriate for the first half mile. A pack of about a dozen of us jockeyed back and forth behind the 3:15 pacer as the field spread out. There were 2 other females in the pack. A number of the runners were chatty and jovial in the first few miles. I probably came across as rude when one guy started to talk to me about Marathon Maniacs, but I kept my answers short and clipped. Every breath mattered.

The course ran east and south for the first 4 miles before returning to the start/finish area and intersecting with the half marathon course. It was delightfully perfect weather those first few miles and I was comfortable in my tank, shorts, and a pair of gloves. I didn't feel particularly good or bad right away. Honestly, much of the first part of the race is a blur. 7:36, 7:20, 7:31, 7:21

After we intersected with the half marathon course, I remembered to take my first gel at just mile 4--a Cherry Lime Roctane GU. I have had better success with gels and water as sometimes the Gatorade doesn't sit well with my stomach. I accidentally grabbed Gatorade twice on the course and drank one with pretty immediate regret.

Runners began to spread out a little bit more over the next few miles and I was pleased that I could just tuck in behind the pacer and a few of the guys running alongside him. It helped kept the wind to a minimum during those early miles and likely saved my race. 7:32, 7:19, 7:23, 7:23

The pacer peeled off to use the porta-potty around the Albany State University West Campus after we crossed the mile 8 sign. I was confident he would catch back up with our little pack, but I was feeling confident to just go ahead. The knowledge that if he caught up to me meant that I was still in the 3:15 range was a good thing. I would hopefully hang on if he did catch up, but there was a certain feeling of safeness if I stayed out ahead. I had a Honey Stinger Mandarin Orange gel at just past the mile 8 mark.

When our pack loosened up from the pacer pit stopping, I heard a spectator (I'm assuming a coach) shout to a girl in our pack to "tuck in behind someone". We were headed out on a long straight stretch along Gillionville Road and while the wind wasn't bad, it certainly was noticeable. Many of the runners were keeping a pretty even pace so it was easy to just focus on the foot strike of the person in front of me. 7:21, 7:16

Mile 11 brought us through a residential area with a few rolling hills. I had a couple of low moments during that stretch where I watched a few runners pass me though I was keeping a pretty even pace. However, I knew that I couldn't trust my mind so early and that there would still (hopefully) be better patches. 7:22, 7:22

I had another Cherry Lime Roctane GU just past the mile 12 marker and popped 2 Excedrin. I am not sure if the Excedrin is more placebo than painkiller, but I've taken some during ultras and it seems to work. As the course crossed over the 13.1 mile marker, I noticed that I was slightly slower than a 3:15 pace if I wanted even splits. Running that fast wasn't new territory for me, but I had run 2 marathons with positive splits when I had tried to stay in the 7:20s. The hard part was to now trust that I could run a bit faster during the second half. 7:30, 7:26

Mile 15 was spent reeling in a pack of 3 runners who had started with the 3:15 pace group. They had been within my sight the entire race, but I started to slowly pull closer to them. By mile 16, I was running right behind them and happy to be within a pack of people again. My music was blaring, but I could hear snippets of their conversation. I knew I was being annoying being right on their heels, but I justified in my mind at the moment that every edge I could get would help me reach my goal. I had a Huma Chia Apple Cinnamon gel at just past the mile 16 marker. 7:20, 7:25

During mile 17, one of the runners dropped off and then it was just me, a guy, and a girl. They ran side by side for quite some time and then they switched back and forth with one person leading the other. I was always in the back of the peloton and eventually felt strong enough to go towards the front. As I went past, they followed suit for a bit. However, by the time we got to the mile 18 marker, they had fallen back a bit. 7:22, 7:22

I had looked at the course map briefly to know that the lake was near mile 18 and that typically it is a low point in a marathon for me. Running 18 miles and facing 8.2 more always seems daunting. But I was having a great race so far and feeling very little signs of faltering in the last hour. I tried to do a bit of quick runner math to calculate how fast I would need to go to hit the A++ goal of smashing 3:15, the A goal of 3:14:59 (because who wants a :00 when you can have a :59), B goal of sub 3:19:15 (the PR to beat), C goal of a BQ (when did my C goal become BQ??), and D goal of just finish the damn thing. 7:13

I had an Espresso GU at the mile 19 marker and suddenly felt really, really good. Like runner's high good. Something in me knew that I was going to make this happen and I felt so strong. When I crossed the mile 20 mat, a runner next to me exclaimed, "only 10K to go!" 7:23

The next few miles, I was careful to stay calculated in my assault on the last 10K. Those last 27 marathons were useful for something: the last 10K will always make or break a race. There is a reason they call it the wall. But I was strategic in my nutrition and pace and was hoping that I would just let it all out in the last 3-5K. 7:20, 7:17, 7:31

At some point, I saw Nikki and later, Sean out on the final miles of the course. It is always great to see people I know racing and both of them had laid down some killer fast miles early on in the race. Both of them are incredible runners and I was humbled to be shoulder to shoulder with them!

I had grabbed two Hammer Apple Cinnamon gels from one of the hydration stations (swag!) and actually was able to suck down another one at mile 23. Forcing the nutrition early and often seemed to work so I decided to just stay on top of the calories if my stomach could handle it. There were a bunch of turns in mile 23 and I was so ready to start looking for signs that we were headed back to the downtown area. 7:20

With 2 miles left, I was ready to empty the tank. I thought about mile marker 2 on the Greenway and knew that all those progressive runs were for a reason. That 3:15 was going to happen! At this point, I was passing a bunch of runners and each person I picked off fueled my competitive fire. 7:07

Somewhere along the last mile I spotted a group of guys in warm-ups along a straightaway. I knew it was the half-marathoners in the local group that had come back to cheer on the full marathoners. I was in high gear coming in towards them and seeing familiar faces gave me that one last boost I needed to charge towards the finish. 7:08

When I spotted the mile 26 sign, I started keeping an eye out for the mile 13 sign so I could just charge down the finish. Luckily, it was an easy downhill and short straightaway. I leaped over the timing mat with 3:14:XX on the clock. Last 0.4 miles: 7:11 pace

Oh. Em. Gee.

As I clicked off my Garmin and collected myself, I realized that I might actually be 3:13:XX! But I was too elated to care about seconds. I had reached my A++ goal and I felt GREAT throughout most of the race. I believed that I could do it and I did!

I went and sat on the hill next to the finish chute and watched my friends come in. John smashed his PR and earned his ticket to Boston. Casey punched her BQ card by giving it everything she had through the finish line. As we waited for everyone to cross the line, we regaled race stories, drank beer, and enjoyed a gorgeous March day. No matter their time, everyone gave it all they had and being a part of a community like that will leave you pretty darn misty-eyed.

At some point, I went to get my phone out of my car, grab my warm-ups, and check the official time. I was 7th overall and 1st in my age group! 3:13:58

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Many (most?) people reading this will know I've been marathoning since 2009 and running a good chunk of my life. I ran 5 marathons before I got the idea to try to qualify for Boston. I stuck to my training schedule like a perfect type A and had the race of my life on December 7th, 2013. It still gives me chills to think about it. No race has topped it. Not finishing Boston, not winning my first ultra, not finishing my first 100 miler. Nothing.

So maybe I'm in search of that feeling again? I've come close. Yesterday was really, really close. I think when you work for something really hard and still have doubts that it will happen, it feels better when you achieve it. Perhaps that's why I didn't feel that way about Boston or the ultras. I knew I could do it. This felt close because I still had a lot of self-doubt. But it's funny how accomplishing one thing makes you feel like you can tackle the next big thing. Breaking barriers doesn't happen overnight. This has been quite a long journey and yet, I feel like I am just getting started.