Better late than never! (a.k.a. Boston Marathon Weekend 3 months later)

Tomorrow it will be 3 months since I took a little run from Hopkinton to Boston.  I have been meaning to blog my feelings and reactions to that day, but, ya know, life gets in the way!  

Alas, here I am: 3 months post-Boston Marathon and I am finally writing about it.  I remember it with amazing clarity.  Slightly warmer than ideal, horrendous traffic getting into Hopkinton, nervous energy, oh yeah, and a terrible chest cold!! :(  I started to feel "not right" the Thursday before... I was burning up, felt super tired, and just blah.  Friday morning I woke up to a full blown cold.  In April. 3 days before I got to finish what I started on April 15, 2013.  There was only one thing I could focus on: I was going to finish that damn race!!!

I rested as much as I could, tried not to laugh (because that induced massive coughing fits), and drank water and tea, and anything laced with vitamin C like a fiend.  I HAD to feel better.  Saturday night was the highlight of my runner geek life - I was going to meet Hal Higdon!  You might remember his book, 4:09:43, that he wrote soon after that life-changing day.  He selected my story to be part of his book, a walk (er, run) through the day from the eyes of those involved: runners, spectators, officials, all of us.  

I rallied on Saturday to visit the expo, get my number, and have dinner in town for The Gathering of the 75, as our group was dubbed from Mr. Higdon himself.  I felt like death, but as many of us runners can be, I was stubborn and was not going to miss this opportunity for anything.  

We went to dinner and met up with the man himself.  Such a great guy, approachable, and fun.  We met a few new friends - Mary and Dave from Milwaukee, John and Helen from Scotland, and of course Janine who organized the whole shindig.  

I definitely made out in race schwag! 

Run like Hal!

Mary and Dave

John and Helen

After muddling my way through Easter Dinner with the in-laws-to-be (I'm sure I was in a medicated fog), marathon Monday was upon us. Traffic was awful getting into Hopkinton - CRB had to drop me off a mile from the center of town and I gave a State Trooper a coronary because I was carrying a backpack.  He let me continue on my way to the branch when I nearly burst into tears on the sidewalk.  

After the obligatory 3+ hour wait, it was time for us wave 4 folks to head to our corrals.  

Raquel and yours truly

Raquel, me, Henry, Stacy

I really wanted to finish in under 5 hours, but when the evil death cold descended into my chest a few days before, I knew that was not going to be possible.  I decided to sight see, be careful (as careful as one can be while running a marathon), and just run for that painted line on Boylston Street.  

I took my time, knowing where friends and family would be stationed.  It turned out to be warmer than any of us expected that day.  I saw my work friends in Natick.  Huge thanks to Nick for replenishing my sport beans and coconut water stores! 

I saw my amazing friend Amy in Wellesley where she was volunteering at the Mile 14 water stop.  Water and a hug - exactly what I needed right about then!

I saw my dad and my CRB at Newton-Wellesley Hospital.  I stopped to chat a little and take some water. Dad said I looked good, so I knew I wasn't looking like death. (He's pretty honest about stuff like that). Patty gave me a cheer at Mile 17-ish right before the Newton fire station turn onto Comm Ave.

I struggled the whole day, but I really started to feel bad around Mile 20 or so.  I saw my friends Jo and Amanda right before then, and they reassured me I looked great.  Hey, I might not be fast, but at least I still looked OK at Heartbreak Hill, right?!  A guy offered me a beer, and I actually considered it at that point.  I mean, I had 6-ish miles left, it was hot, I was tired...how much worse could it get?  Well, 200 yards past my girls, it got worse.  I hurled.  Sitting on the curb halfway up THE hill, I actually thought for a minute that I was going to see the inside of a medical tent that day.  But no. That wasn't an option.  Crossing that painted line was my ONLY option that day. 

Surprisingly, I felt better after I got sick.  Once I got past the hills and began my final descent into the city, I knew I was going to finish.  Not fast, and not pretty, but I would finish. (If only that nagging side cramp had subsided, it would have been SO much better!)  

I worked my way through the route, getting closer and closer with every step.  I was amazed at how many fans were still along the course.  It was amazing.  Once I saw the Citgo sign, I knew I was almost there.  When I hit Kenmore Square, that's when the emotion really hit me.  This is where I was stopped last year.  The Sox game had been over little while, thus Kenmore was packed with energy and emotion.  The tears started then.  

At the "1k to go" banner, I saw blue singlets.  Could that be Tedy's Team, and my friend Christine?  Nah...I hadn't seen her since we loaded into the corrals at the start.  But it was!  She and I stuck together with other Tedy's Team peeps for the final .62 miles.  I saw my family when I took the right onto Hereford.  Mom, Dad, CRB, Andy, Aunt Beth...all there for me.  They were there last year and were closer to the tragedy than I was.  They showed up again to support me and the tens of thousands of others for the love of the event.

Taking the left onto Boylston, I was in awe of what I saw. People, 10 deep, lining the street, cheering for complete strangers, cheering because they were there.  After what happened last year, I was worried.  Worried that the finish line wouldn't be the same, that the energy wouldn't be the same.  I had been on Boylston to see my brother finish the Boston Marathon in 2009.  I felt the energy, the amazing vibe, just everything.  I had hoped that wouldn't change.  And it didn't.  Maybe I was delirious by then, but I think I ran my best in the last 386 yards than I had the entire race.  I saw the NF Inc. Northeast ladies just before I got to the finish line.  Cheering like crazy!  

Then, at long last..... that line of paint. I had it. No one could take that away from me now.  

Hugged Christine, made sure she was ok, and then I was off to find my family (albeit very slowly).  

Since it was later, and so many people had already finished, grabbing a bite to eat of something other than Sport Beans or post-race snacks in Boston was out of the question.  CRB and I bid farewell to my family and made our way to the car to head home.  Back in Hudson, I thoroughly enjoyed a draft and dinner at Rail Trail Flatbread Co., proudly wearing my jacket and my medal.  Smiling and nodding when other patrons, who realized what that neon jacket meant, asked, "You ran today, right? How did you do?"  And to the awesome woman who insisted on buying me a beer and/or dessert, much love. I opted for a beer. :)

Since the marathon was right after Easter, I felt a Peeps donut was warranted. 

I had purchased this shirt in 2013 at the expo, but never wore it.  I hadn't had the chance to take that right, and that left.  But now, I will wear it with pride.

Oh, and I am now the proud owner of some pretty sweet tan lines.  No, I am not wearing red socks. Yes, this is what happens when you forget sunblock on your legs.  Oops!  (P.S. It is July 20, and I STILL have lines on my legs.)

And an amazing gift from my future MIL's friend, Terri.  She works for the sign company that makes all the banners for the marathon.  She had this made for me.  What a wonderful gift. 

Everyone has asked, "Will you run it again?"  Training for and running a marathon is no joke.  I'm not what you would call a "typical" runner.  But you know what, I run.  And I will run Boston again.  

March Musings

Here we are - 36 days away from Boston...  

Pre-15 miler! 

This winter has been harder for me than last year.  As far as marathon training goes, it has been one thing after another.  A head cold that morphed into a sinus infection, nagging IT band tightness and pain that resulted in a new knee pain, and my stomach now hates me after any run longer than 10 miles.  BUT, here's the thing - mentally, I'm in a better place.  Last year at this time, I had my first marathon meltdown. Crying, self-doubt, yelling, pity party...yeah, it was NOT one of my finer moments.  I feel like I've been able to weather the storm of Boston Marathon training better this year.  Sure, I have done less running and have had more pains, but all in all, I'm okay with that. 

A few months ago I made a choice.  I decided to keep my head in the right place.  What does that mean?  Well, I made a conscious decision to keep my mindset positive. Yes, s#!$ happens, but it is all how you handle it.  I keep making this choice every day to stay positive about what is going on around me.  My results?  I feel fantastic.  Of course I have had some bumps in the road to a more positive outlook, but I keep coming back to my decision to keep my head on straight, as I like to call it.  

Don't be fooled - reality still exists.  I don't pretend like everything is sunshine and rainbows all the time.  I know this.  But I choose to not let negativity get the best of me.  We all have choices to make, and I choose to keep moving forward.  

Just as negativity breeds more negativity, positive attitudes do the same.  Positive vibes are contagious.  Spread the love. 

Ok, enough of my soap box for now! :)   This week, the B.A.A. announced bib numbers and wave/corral assignments.  Woohoo!!!  

Given the increased field size, there are 4 waves of runners - I am in Wave 4, which starts at 11:25 am on Marathon Monday.  A little later than the last wave usually goes off, but there are 9,000 more registered runners than last year.  Now that I have my number, I am getting excited for Boston.  I will run my best, and I will cross that finish line on April 21. 

Viva Las Vegas! (or A Dashed PR and a 3-State Moose & M.G. Adventure)

It's been a while, folks, did you miss me??  Kidding....I've been up to my eyeballs in work, finishing up school, etc...oh yeah, and the Vegas trip!  As you may remember, I didn't get to finish the Boston Marathon last April. The Rock 'n' Roll Race Series granted those like myself a FREE race entry to any Rock 'n' Roll race held before the end of the year.  My Original CRB mentioned she was going to run in Las Vegas.  My "bucket list" radar went up (I have never been to Vegas, but have always wanted to go...at least once) and I was in!  Another friend who runs for Tedy's Team was going also, so we figured, "Girls' trip! Why not??"  

Paris Las Vegas

Having never been to Vegas, I knew I was in for an experience.  Apparently there is no open container laws there, and there are people on every corner handing out cards for call girls.  So, as we strolled down the strip with our beverages (because we could!), we were surrounded by bright lights, tourists, and half naked "ladies."  Quite the people-watching experience, for sure.  

Picking up our race numbers

We picked up our numbers at the race expo on Saturday, saw the sights there, and then headed back to the hotel to grab dinner and plan for the next day.  If there is one this that is certain, you will never go hungry in Vegas.  If you can't find a food that suits your fancy, there is probably something wrong with you. Seriously. 

Pre-dinner selfie!

On Sunday, we laid low by the pool and prepared for the race, which was at night - difficult since every other long race I have done has been in the morning.  I chose the half marathon, where my travel companions were running the full marathon.  

The race atmosphere was pretty cool.  It started around sunset, and that night there was a full moon.  With the moon rising over the mountains, the sun setting, and the bright lights of the strip, the first half of the race flew by!  We covered the entire strip and Old Las Vegas, with plenty of singing Elvises and little white chapels along the way.  

I was pacing pretty well, but still wary that I would best my goal time.  I felt good, but I knew I was pushing it.  I drank at every water station because I was thirsty.  Knowing we were in the desert, I felt like I always needed to replenish.  My body was used to November in New England - even on a "dry" day it was still more humid than it ever is in Vegas.  Around mile 11, things went south.  My stomach felt awful, I was getting nauseous, and my hip began to hurt.  I slogged along, knowing now that a PR was not going to happen that night.  

I finally finished and found some space to sit down (which was bizarre because they shut down all traffic on the strip for the entire afternoon/evening).  I plopped down, and my stomach finally staged its revolt.  I had a slight chuckle with the girl next to me as she said, "Oh man, I feel the same way," as I watered the bushes with a special water/Gatorade mix. :/ Ugh.  I knew D and C weren't going to finish the marathon for a while, so I took my time and found Jav.  We both succumbed to the same fate - Late-run/post-run stomach issues.  We were a pretty sad looking pair, sitting on a curb looking at the lights and water show at the Bellagio (which was pretty cool, btw).  We finally managed to get ourselves up and heading back to our respective hotels, making sure we texted each other that we made it safely to our destination (me, just in time...). 

Alas, I did not PR that day.  It was actually close to my worst half marathon time of the 7 half marathons that I have run.  But I finished, and really, the trip was more about the experience (that's what I keep telling myself anyway).

D had a marathon PR!! Woo hoo!  

The next day Chris had a spa day planned with the Tedy's Team ladies, so Dayna and I hit the road to Zion National Park.  Best quote of the day: "This is the antithesis of Vegas." ~D.  And it was so true.  As we rode out Interstate 15, which is a convenient drive through the upper northwest corner of Arizona into southwestern Utah, the mountains rose up around us.  D, a.k.a. photog chic, snapped pics along the way.  When it got warm enough, we put the top down (yes, Christine had snagged us a Mustang convertible!) which facilitated capturing the glorious mountains easily. 

Warning: gratuitous selfies abound!

State #3 of the day - and the second time zone!
Utah = Mountain time, Vegas = Pacific time

Thelma & Louise shot

Welcome to Zion 

Of course, we didn't hike that much.  Just a little jaunt up Canyon Overlook Trail, took our obligatory "boot" picture, and saw a whole bunch of big horn sheep!

Trust the boot! (or sneaker!)

Peek-a-boo!

Pictures do NOT do this place justice. At all. 

Yes, he was really that close to the road. Just having a little dinner.

And it wouldn't be a Moose and Mountain Goat adventure if we didn't finish our day with beers and nachos.... at Zion Canyon Brew Pub.

And even caught a sunset on our way back to Vegas.

So, maybe my 7th half marathon wasn't so lucky, but I was definitely lucky to experience a race in Vegas and a gorgeous National Park with great friends! 

Firsts and Nexts

Over the past year and a half, I have had the privilege of running some "first races" with some of my nearest and dearests.  First it was a 5k with Amy in Portland, ME...then a 5K with Derek in Franklin, MA....and this month I got to run another couple firsts:  My co-worker/friend Katie ran her first 5k (at one of my favorite races, no less) and a couple friends ran their first half marathons - all in the same weekend!  

I was so excited for Katie and her first race.  After I posted a picture about the Huff N Cuff 5k on Facebook, Katie registered!  Running your first race at the Huff N Cuff definitely sets the bar high.  Truth be told, I am a little biased, since a friend is the race organizer, however it really is an awesome race - great schwag (long-sleeve T and a snazzy pint glass), live music by the talented Brian Richard, oh yeah, and free beer. Yup, I said it...free WACHUSETT beer.  Happy girl, right here.  (I had to let Katie in on a secret - all races don't have as great a post-race party and race schwag as this race.)

Anyway, we had a great time, with exceptional company. And I was super proud of Katie - her first race and a PR no less! 

Katie and I - pre-race! (Yes, blue was the Training Dept. uniform for the day)

The next day was...dun dun dun...Smuttynose.  As beautiful as Saturday was, Sunday turned out to be the complete opposite.  I should have known, it being Smuttynose and all.  As my friend Henry said, "I've run Smuttynose 4-5 times, and it has rained every year I've run."  Thanks for jinxing us again, Henry. (Kidding!)  Alas, I saddled up the next day with CRB and plans to meet up with at least a few of the dozen or so people I knew running the race.  

CRB and I - ready to run!

It was so chilly and windy at the start that I just wanted to get going.  We met up with Jessica, who was running her very first half marathon that day (yay Jess!), and found our corral.  

Now, I had planned on going for a PR that day, and for the first 10 miles, I felt like I could do it.  Then it happened - tight IT band, lower back pain, knee hurt...I just fell apart.  It definitely wasn't my worst half, by a long shot, but it was not the PR I wanted.  Next up - Rock'N'Roll Half in VEGAS!!  Just have to keep myself healthy and well for a few more weeks. 

A couple days before my October Race Extravaganza (a.k.a. October 5-6), I received a packet from the B.A.A.  It was my "participant" certificate and 2013 race record book.  I've said it since April, the B.A.A. has be so classy and amazing in how they have communicated with all involved in the marathon this year.  It was overwhelming and emotional to look at these things...the proof that April 15 did actually happen, and it wasn't just a bad dream.  Emotions from my first marathon came flooding back.  I just sat and stared at it for awhile.

My first marathon

And then, a couple weeks later another package arrived.  My signed copy of 4:09:43 from Hal Higdon.  He had emailed the 75 of us to say it was coming.  When I picked up my number for the 5k, Henry said, "Hey! You're famous!"  I must have had a confused look on my face, because he said, "Hal's book. I read it. You're famous!"  I felt humbled that Hal chose my blog and a small piece of my story to tell.  I felt more touched that Hal, a runner, told the story of us runners on that day.  He felt it. He encapsulated how we felt (at least a small number of us...the true gamut of emotions that day will never be truly understood.)

Wow. So humbled. 

Next, I have my sights set on Las Vegas. I want my PR. :) 

Reflecting and healing

I just finished reading Hal Higdon's 4:09:43: The Boston Marathon Bombings, his compilation of stories and accounts from that day. April 15.  As I read, I ran the course again in my mind. I remember almost all parts of the day vividly.  Some parts were surreal, as if my mind's eye was outside looking in. As if my soul was outside my body, looking on, telling me what to do next.  And that feeling was there even before the bombs went off. 

April 15 was an emotional day to begin with.  I kept thinking of my Papa, and of the arduous 18 weeks that had lead up to that day.  When I decided to run and, my original CRB and kindred spirit had warned me: You will have a meltdown, if not more than one. It will be one of, if not the hardest thing you will do.  And she was right.  I had a meltdown the night before a 14-miler, about a month before the big day.  It wasn't one of my prouder moments.  But I pushed through.  

When Marathon Monday arrived, I told myself to remember everything. Remember what you see, what you hear...this may be the only time you do this.  

Reading Hal's book, I re-ran the entire day. Mine started early in Hudson, when CRB and I awoke early and he drove me to Hopkinton.  As I read, I relived each mile through the stories shared. I remember the wave of emotion that flowed over me as I trotted over that painted line next to Hopkinton Green. I remember all the amazing things I saw on my way from Hopkington to Boston. 

I feel fortunate that I live and work close enough to the epic route that I tend to drive it from time to time.  Today I drove along 135 from Westborough to Ashland, so of course I went through Hopkington center.  The surge of emotion that came when I drove over the starting line, down the hill toward Ashland, is the same as it has been the last few times I have driven over that line. It is close to what I felt when I traversed it on foot.  It happens every time.  I zone out - remembering sights and sounds of the day. I couldn't tell you what was on my radio, how much traffic was on the road, or why I was going to Ashland.  At that point in time, I was back on April 15.  

That day changed us. It changed our memories, our reactions.... Conversations come up at parties, dinners out, seemingly casual conversations about what happened, how crowds freak us out, how the sounds of fireworks and helicopters always make us tense up and take pause.  We are all still thinking about it, whether we let on or not. 

I have never met the other people whose stories Hal included in 4:09:43, yet we are all connected.  I feel fortunate that he included my story, although there are thousands of stories that will take years to be told (Hal's words, my agreement).  Janeen Bergstrom summed it up accurately: "All that time. All that sacrifice. Everything you do is for that moment, the moment of stepping on the mat. And it never came. But the lack of accomplishment and the emptiness I feel is compounded by the guilt."

Hal, you did good, fellow runner. You captured our memories and nightmares from that day, and gave the oft unspoken running community a voice.  The body and tail of the serpent, snaking its way 26 miles and 385 yards, not the head finishing with the laurel crowns and prize money.  Those who struggled to attain a qualifying time, or those who qualified themselves by fundraising thousands and thousands of dollars for their selected charities (I, in the latter population). Tears fell as I read and reread sections. You incorporated our stories with bits of history that anyone could appreciate - runners, non-runners, locals and visitors.

Amby Burfoot's closing quote is spot on: "Our institutions did not become great by following a path of timidity and cowardice. We can only hope that the Boston Marathon, though pummeled, will rise again stronger than before." 

We will. I will. I will be there in 2014.  

Tempus fugit

I've been delinquent in my blogging lately - well, for the past 2 months actually!  I was in a bit of a funk....ok, maybe more than that.  I went on vacation with CRB to Cape Cod, went to a concert, broke my toe, didn't run for a month.... So, I guess I've had a lot going on.  

Vacation was great.  We spent the week hanging around the world-renowned beaches of Dennis, visited with my family, toured Truro Vineyards, and made our annual climb to the top of the Pilgrim Monument in Provincetown.  Oh, and of course ate our way through the Cape - oysters, fish & chips, chowder, quahogs - you name it, we ate it. 

We were there for the week encompassing the 4th of July.  I couldn't help but think about Papa a lot.  I have vivid memories of Independence Day up at camp: rides in the boat, water skiing, staying in the lake until our fingers resembled raisins, and Uncle Rob shooting off the best fireworks displays on the whole lake.  

Papa and yours truly circa 1983 @ Camp in Ashburnham, MA

Papa always said that July 4th was the end of summer. Memorial Day starts it, and it's all downhill after July 4th.  Us kids would groan because we had not even been on summer break for a month.  Now, as I am staring down the end of August, I realize what he meant.  It does go by so fast.  The last 4, almost 5, months have passed quickly, yet it seems just like yesterday we said goodbye to one of the greatest men I know.  

Between missing Papa and not running for about a month, I had a rough time.  We went to the Jason Aldean concert at Fenway in July, where I proceeded to trip over a girl who stopped coming out of the ladies room, catch my baby toe on the corner of a cement wall, and break it.  Yup, silly little broken toe.  (Or little sausage toe as I called it, because once it swelled up, it looked like a little sausage! I can laugh now, but then I had a vocabulary that would have made Papa *very* disappointed!)

Rather purple and sausage-like

That did it.  I couldn't run for nearly a month. I was 4 weeks out from the Monadnock Half Marathon in Jaffrey, NH, which I was really looking forward to running. I moped for a week and a half, feeling like a sad puppy when CRB went out for a run and I stayed at home, peering out the window waiting for him to get back.  I couldn't even wear shoes let alone run a few miles.  

I tried running after about a week and a half after I broke it. 

Note to runners with broken toes: THIS IS NOT A GOOD IDEA. IT SUCKS, BUT YOU HAVE TO WAIT IT OUT. There.  I moped for a few more days, then dragged myself to Bikram yoga.  It felt good to use my muscles. My balance was not spectacular given the inability to stabilize my right foot, but boy did it feel good to sweat and push myself.  I returned to Bikram four days in a row (!) and felt better and better.  By the middle of the next week, I gave it a go.  Four weeks of waiting...it felt good!!  Little twinges occasionally, but the toe was better.  I ended up switching to the 5k trail run instead of the half, so at least I got to race that weekend.  Yipee!  Then a week later I ran 7 miles..and felt great! Yipee again!  SO, I am back on track for the Smuttynose Half Marathon in October.  I have a goal to PR this race, and hopefully break 2 hours.  

In other exciting news... The B.A.A. was in communication with the 5,633 of us who did not get to finish the marathon. We all got a special code to register this week.  And I did. I am in for the 118th running of the Boston Marathon on April 21, 2014.  I can't believe that I will begin training for my second marathon in just a few months. 

And I will finish this race.