Boston Marathon Recap

It took me five months to train for Boston, three and a half hours to run it, and now two months to blog about it. It’s a marathon, not a sprint, after all.

What is there to say about April 18^th, the 120^th Boston Marathon? Or better put, what isn’t there to say? The 24 hours surrounding the Boston Marathon were, hands down, the best day of my life. Everything about my experience running Boston was amazing, but it wasn’t just the race itself. Let’s start a little further back…

In October of 2015 I was accepted both to run the Boston Marathon and to fundraise on the Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge team to raise money for cancer research. Having already run one successful marathon, I knew what the training entailed and was confident in my ability to pump out the miles and gain strength. I was much more daunted by the prospect of raising $10,000. My parents flat-out said it couldn’t be done. But this was a truly important cause to me and I vowed to both run and fundraise as best I could.

The Dana-Farber team is an incredible network of passionate and driven people, committed to eradicating cancer. Their stories, reasons and motivations for fundraising and running Boston are inspiring. The majority of them live and train in Boston, and because I was in Connecticut, I was not able to connect with many of them. And so I trained out there on my own, and raised thousands of dollars—thanks to many of you. I did want to feel like a part of this team, however, so my parents and I attended the DFMC pasta dinner the night (or really afternoon, dinner started at 4 pm) before the race.

As I’ve said and written many times before, I have my own reasons for fundraising for Dana-Farber and felt strongly about making my first Boston Marathon about more than just myself. I thought that my movitation would be enough to get my from Hopkinton to Boylston Street. While I enjoyed my plate full of different kinds of pastas, I soon came to realize how much more of an impact Dana-Farber would have on me. Like me, there were many first time runners and fundraisers, about to toe the line and unsure of exactly how the race would unfold. And there were also runners who had volunteered five, ten or more years of their lives to putting an end to cancer. Their countless miles logged and hundreds of thousands of dollars raised set a fire within me. Naturally each of these runners had started because of a personal incentive, but throughout the years they realized that they were fighting a bigger fight. Even though I did not yet know any of these teammembers personally, I wanted to follow in their footsteps and continue fundraising and doing my part as well to help find a cure for cancer. Many of my teammates had also paired with a patient partner, a child being treated by Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. During the dinner, the patient partner teams of runner and child came onto the stage for recognition and the kids each received a marathon finisher’s medal. For me, this was the most moving part of the whole event. Up on that stage could have easily been my brother, had he not been lucky enough to be cured. Up on that stage could easily have been my little cousin, who is being treated by DFCI right now for a severe cancer. Up on that stage could have been any number of friends and family members. I was so thankful that David is healthy, and in that moment I was heartbroken for all of these patients, as well as inspired. I would run for them! They would all be waiting at mile 25, and this is what would get me through the hills and hard moment of the race.

Heading into the pasta dinner, I did not have many goals; I wanted to raise $10,000 (which I did!), and I wanted to have a great race. After the moving presentations from so many teammembers and people affected in so many ways by cancer, I readjusted. I needed to requalify for Boston. I needed to run for Dana-Farber again. I needed to continue to help in any way that I could to find a cure for cancer. In a matter of hours, my finishing goal went from sub-4 to sub-3:35. And given that my training had not gone nearly as well as I’d planned, and I hadn’t done a significant amount of strength or speed work, I was not sure that I could physically do it. But I did know that my motivation has burgeoned, and nothing was going to stop me.

Unsurprisingly, the Boston Marathon is impressively well organized. My mom dropped me off at the cool hour of 8 AM in Hopkinton, where I waited just a few minutes in line for a porta-potty, and then hopped on a bus to the athlete’s village. From there, I jogged to the DFMC center, where the incredible volunteers had set up food, drink, first aid and phone charging stations. We took team pictures and milled about. I wasn’t nervous. I was just ready. Looking around the room, I saw so many yellow bibs—signifying charity runners. My bib was blue—wave 3—and there were only a handful of us. Once again I realized just how important my requalification was; if Dana-Farber didn’t have to pay for me to enter the race, they could pay for an extra person to do so, and thus have a greater fundraising impact. Finally it was time to head to the starting line. I walked over with another DFMC runner, we wished each other good luck, and found our respective corrals. In corral 2, I found a Oiselle volée teammate, and we comforted each other as we got ready to start. I don’t know if I’ve ever been so excited or smiled so much at the start of a race before.

Before the race

The gun went off and I crossed the starting line. The race course drops into a downhill almost immediately, so I reminded myself to settle in and not go out too fast. Of course there were thousands of people around me so for the first few miles I did have to stay really relaxed. My goal was to hover around 7:50 ppm as long as I could and hope that the hills wouldn’t destroy me. Prior to the race I had done my research and knew that going out too hard on the downhill in the first half of the race would kill my legs, and given that I did not know what to expect from Heartbreak Hill, I needed to play the game conservatively. And that’s basically what I did! After the race, a number of friends who were tracking me would compliment me on how evenly I ran the whole marathon, especially since many people struggled in the heat. I believe that because of my pacing skills I was able to manage my energy really well and that allowed me to run the exact race I wanted.

There were too many funny, incredible and memorable moments during the race for me to write them all down here, but I’ll throw out a number of my favorites:

• The honest sign at mile 2 that said “you’re not almost there”
• Making awkward eye contact with a man holding up a sign that said “keep running if you think I’m sexy” even though he definitely wasn’t sexy
• The Mormon missionaries dressed in their uber-conservative clothes cheering
• The Wellesley scream tunnel that did not disappoint
• Seeing my parents at mile 13 and knowing that the race was really starting at that point
• Finally starting to hurt around mile 16, just before the Newton hills
• Finding another Oiselle volée teammate just as Heartbreak Hill started, yelling “let’s do this,” and charging up the hills together
• The red ice pop that someone handed to me on Comm Ave. It was not in my fuel plan but it was too hot to care
• Feeling my legs starting to hit the wall and deciding that I would not allow it
• Seeing so many of my friends cheering for me from mile 20 and onward. Knowing that I had people at almost each of the last 6 miles made the pain of the third hour of running a lot more bearable
• Trying not to tear up as I approached mile 25, where DFMC was stationed. These people were the reason I was running, and why I was pushing my body way harder than it was happy about. The cheers that erupted as they recognized my neon yellow singlet gave me the motivation I needed to finish strong and under my qualifying time so that I could keep running for them next year
• Running my fastest mile of the whole marathon at mile 26, so desperate to be done with the race at that point
• Crossing the finish line at Boylston, slowing to a stop and letting the tears finally flow.

Official Finish Time: 3:31:42, only 35 seconds off my marathon PR!

After!

Despite writing my longest blog post ever about the marathon, it’s still hard for me to accurately describe all of the feelings and thoughts I have about my first Boston Marathon. I was so lucky to have the incredible support—emotional, physical and financial—of so many loved ones and I’m happy and proud that I was able to accomplish exactly what I set out to do. The best news is that I get do to this all again next year. Maybe by then I’ll have my thoughts together a little bit better and much sooner. I can’t wait.

My amazing friends and cheer squad

Training like an Elite, Volume 2

Two years ago, just coming off a broken leg, I was in Lake Tahoe, California at 6,000 feet above sea level when I started my slow comeback to running. This trip, with its scenery and confidence building steps, gave me the altitude bug. Ever since then, I've kept in the back of my mind that I wanted to head back to altitude to do some serious training. Training and peaking in my milage for Boston seemed like the perfect opportunity, so I booked tickets to Boulder, Colorado to visit a good friend and have the wind knocked out of me.

I was in Boulder for a full week and initially I didn't seem to be affected by being at 5,000+ feet above sea level. A quick shake-out run the first day I was there felt normal, even good. I did burn the chicken I cooked because #bakingataltitude. But my big concern, and the reason I was there, was my impending 20 mile long run on Saturday morning. 20 miles, or for me three hours of running, is mind-numbing and potentially awful on one's own even at sea-level, so I sought out a local running group that I could accompany. I got really lucky that the women I ran with were chatty and good for about 14 miles in the morning. They lead me through the packed dirt roads around the Boulder Reservoir, and thanks to their incessant chatter (one woman was espousing the incredible company that is Uber...like who's never heard of them before?), I was able to soak in the sun and beautiful scenery and forget that I was suffering internally.

No wonder I had a nice run!

In reality, my 20 miler went great! I ran the third hour on my own, and while I did start to get very hungry around mile 17, I didn't hit a wall and was able to keep pace for my whole run. Even more exciting was that this 20 miler was two minutes faster than my run of that distance last year, but this time I was breathing in significantly less oxygen. I had been warned beforehand that recovery at altitude often takes a lot longer, so as soon as I finished my run and returned to the car, I chugged some water and a protein shake, and nibbled on a pistachio muffin (all the sugars and carbs!) as I did some dynamic stretching. Once I got home, I showered, pulled on some compression socks and curled up for a nap.

Of course, my "elite" altitude training wouldn't be complete without some sort of social media interaction with women much faster than I. Heading to Boulder, I knew that many elites were in the area altitude training as well, and I was hoping to at least run into them, if not actually stalk them and become best friends (Kara Goucher, why didn't you respond to my invitation to get coffee together!?). And I did almost literally run into a few. My running team, Oiselle, has an elite training group called Little Wing that at the moment consists of three steeple chasers chasing the OTQ, and coached by the incredible Lauren Fleshman. Halfway into my LR around the reservoir, my group and I ran by another group and I recognized these women by the Oiselle clothes they were in. Later, on my own, I ran by two of the women and waved to them, yelling "Hey Little Wing!" They seemed pumped to both recognize my running top (also obviously Oiselle #flystyle) and realize that I knew who they were. After my run I checked Twitter, and was delighted to find this awesome tweet from them. Once again, day/week/life made:

*praise hands emoji*

And my active altitude training didn't end there. The next morning, I headed even higher up, to about 10,000 feet, to go cross country skiing. Now I am not one to put on any type of snow sport equipment, but knowing that Nordic skiing is such good cardio and non-impact cross training, I had to give it a try. I went with my friend to her local mountain and we explored the pristine trails for about two hours. We worked up both a sweat and an appetite and had so much fun. My parents can't believe I'm saying this, but I would definitely cross country ski again!

Now that I'm back at sea-level and tapering, I'm continuing to get massages from my amazing PT, and today even I ran some easy miles on the AlterG anti-gravity treadmill at 75% body weight. Boston is 11(!) days away and I'm doing the best I can to take care of my body, given how many miles I've pounded them through over the course of the past four months. My training hasn't gone exactly as planned but at the same time I've had some awesome runs. I feel fit, ready and beyond excited to toe the line in Hopkinton and make my way into Boston, with a right on Hereford and left on Boylston. My stint as an elite at altitude in Boulder has prepared me well.

Love,
Rachel "legs up on the wall" Runner

Math is hard, and its consequences: a race recap

Folks, an order of business before we get to your (somewhat) regularly-scheduled blog post: a Boston Marathon and Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge fundraising update! We are just one month out from Patriot's day and today I received my number (17512) and wave/corral (3/2). I'm feeling pretty fit at this point but this last month will be key for honing and maintaining my fitness and motivation. I'm headed to Boulder this week to train at altitude and gain some speed by osmosis from all the crazy fast runners up there. More importantly though, is that my fundraising is really coming along! Also today I hit $7,000 and I'm hoping to close the gap to $10k soon. If you haven't donated yet, I urge you to take a look at my fundraising page here and donate whatever you can to help raise money for cancer research.

Speaking of marathon training, let's talk about long runs. They're long and often take a lot of mental energy to even just begin. For this reason, "tune up" races are very attractive to those of us crazy enough to give up hours of our free time just put one foot in front of the other at a considerable speed. It was with just this in mind that a colleague and fellow Boston bound runner suggested that we tackle an "18 mile" race together. I said sure and didn't think much of it. Unfortunately for her/fortunately for her family, her son's hockey team made it into playoffs that day so I ended up flying solo.

I did not have big expectations for this race, Stu's 30k, and had a vague plan to negative split the run. I didn't anticipate going out fast but as I eavesdropped the conversations at the starting line, I realized that I could do better than I had initially anticipated. I headed out at a little over 8:00 ppm and settled in with a group of runners. Nothing particularly exciting to report from the first half of the race except for the running commentary (pun intended) by these men. First he mentions, to no one in particular I believe, an interview with some "little known" runner who is making her marathon debut at Boston. She runs for adidas, he said, but his mispronunciation of the brand both piqued my interested and pissed me off. He was talking about Neely Spence Gracey who, if you follow the elite running world in any capacity you would know, is not all that up-and-coming. A few miles later, I was leading this same man and one other in a triangle formation (I'd say that they were drafting off of me but both had a big height advantage on me), and the first comments to the second that I have great running form. "Yeah, she runs real tight," the second replies. (Okay, WHAT does this mean!?) The first responds that maybe he would run as spritely as I do if he were 50 lbs lighter. I turn around and flash a smile at them, and then take off.

It felt like I started to find my stride around 12 miles, when I was comfortably hitting 7:30-7:45 per mile. The weather had warmed up and the sun was out. I made sure to take water every chance I got, especially after I ate each GU. I could feel the end of the race coming up and was excited that my legs were really responding well. But here's when that starts to break down. Sharon, my colleague, had sold this race to me as an 18 mile training run. The race was actually 30 kilometers. As I tell my Spanish students frequently, I am not that good at math. I have, however, run for long enough that I can convert metric to imperial, and I soon realized that this finish line that I was chasing was actually significantly farther than I had figured. When at mile 15 I tried to kick for the last 5k, my legs started to resist. Together, we faced a long and winding hill, and as I rounded the corner at mile 18, I was dismayed not to see the finish line.

Reader poll: was I wearing shorts?

Do you know what it's like to coerce your body to continue to work and push after you thought you had expertly portioned out your energy over a certain, finite distance? I thought about using the remaining .7 miles as a cool down since this race didn't particularly matter anyways. On the other hand, I spied a woman in front of me (in orange in the photo above) and I was going to be damned if I lost an age group award to her by that small of a margin. So I pushed one more time (<-- that sounds like I'm giving birth...) and as soon as I crossed the finish line my legs cramped up. In my marathon last spring, mile 18 was where I very discernibly hit the wall, so I was at least grateful to postpone that feeling for a little longer in this race. I ended up not winning an age group award after all but I did manage to run an average 8:03 pace, which is just shy of my 8:01 marathon pace from Providence. This means that had I continued for the rest of the 12 kilometers, I would have still finished right around my goal time for Boston. See, I can do some math at least! And I walked (very slowly) away from this race with one lesson that I will take with me to Boston: it helps to know the course before you race; no one wants a surprise on race day.

Post race: proudly repping Dana-Farber

Sincerely,
Rachel "it's almost taper time!" Runner

I am no Quentin Cassidy

"The trials of miles; miles of trials"

Fictional miler Quentin Cassidy's oft-quoted mantra is frequently invoked in the running community, and it certainly was on my mind today during my 15+ mile long run. Sure, trials of miles, I thought to myself, but what does Cassidy know about the trials of freezing cold runs and icy sidewalks? The central Floridian, for all of his grueling workouts, probably logged most of his miles in thin shorts and no shirt. Meanwhile today, I prepared for my battle with the road by donning wool socks, fleece-lined tights, four layers on top including two wind-blocking jackets, a gaiter and a hat.

Quentin Cassidy, we can presume, also had the mentality of a grinder. He was a workhorse, potentially past the point of reason--for those who've read Once a Runner. The trials were mental. His mind was in the game just as much as his legs and his lungs.

 I am no Quentin Cassidy. Currently nine weeks into training for the Boston Marathon, and with just over two months left before the culminating day, I still don't believe that I'm fit. If we exclude this literally mind-numbingly cold weekend, this winter's weather conditions have been much more favorable than last winter's. I've gone through marathon training once before and there are many fewer surprises this time around. And yet training for this marathon has been much more of a struggle so far. My physical therapist says he's never seen my calves in such bad shape, I'm constantly exhausted and have postponed or skipped runs more than I'm willing to admit. I have had almost no training weeks go completely according to plan. With all this stopping and starting, physical and mental fatigue, and the constant rush of life, I don't feel like I'm really in this. In my heart of hearts, I know that one missed run here or one slower-than-scheduled run there will not make or break my marathon in April. But I also know that I want, and need, to be prepared in order to be happy with the outcome of my race, and choosing naps (and cheesecake) over runs will not get me there. I've told people that I will likely not race another marathon for a while after Boston, and I've considered amending my goals to reflect my tumultuous mental state. Running is a priority for me, but I cannot dedicate the amount of time I want to this portion of my life without another aspect giving way.

I won't move to a cabin in the woods, but I'm still lacing up my shoes and getting out the door. Every time my feet hit the pavement I feel vindicated and reassured. In the speed sessions that I have done, the long runs I've either sped or slogged through, and the post-run stretching and strength work I am able to fit in, I am redefining what Quentin Cassidy's famed saying means for my own running.

Probably cold until April,
Rachel "I'm still here" Runner

Mind Games with Legs

Much like (I imagine) a parent must sometimes negotiate with a child to get him or her to do something unwanted, I sometimes find myself engaging in a silent battle with my legs before a long run or hard workout.

"Are you excited for 4x1000 today?" I ask them.
"I guess," they say, "but don't you just want to keep watching Scandal?"
"But you're wearing your favorite socks and your tights are keeping you warm. You look good!" I try to convince them.
"Okay, but let's take the warm up easy."
We start out slowly, per their demand, but soon we're moving at a decent clip (perhaps due to the socks).
"Warm up's over, are you ready?"
They react as I ask them to, steadily speeding up. They widen with each length of earth that they travel. I can feel them contract and stretch, react. They are powerful.

"But," they protest, "what about that pain in your hip? Shouldn't we be careful? Maybe we should slow down."
"Believe in yourselves. Remember all the exercises you've been doing to get stronger," I reply.
The first rep is done and recovery feels sweet. Soon they're itching for more.

"Where are you taking us!?" they scream as we briefly lose balance on the icy road, turning a corner.
"Can we take it easy up this hill? We're almost done with this rep anyways." I refuse. They do as I bid.

Last rep. Time (and we) have flown by. "Don't settle," I urge them. "What else is in there?" I see my pace slowly creeping below 7 minutes. We hit the mark and take a second to celebrate.
"You know, that wasn't so bad," they concede. "We felt good. It was fun. Can we do more? Again?"
"Not now," I tell them. "Remember this feeling and bring it back out for April. It's still early anyways. But since you had so much fun, how about a 5 mile tempo during our long run in a few days?"
"What about Scandal on Netflix?" they plead.

They're right. As we finish up and head back to the car, I know that we'll have this conversation again on Saturday, and many more days throughout my training. But I know they'll come through.

A Smart Race Plan Pays Off: Gansett Half Marathon Race Recap

So. Robyn is not the only who is swamped. I just emerged for air after finishing our fall term, coaching our last cross country race of the season, and wrapping up my own fall running. 

Before I get into the details and highlights of my running life lately, I’d like to take a minute to shamelessly plug my fundraising efforts for the Boston Marathon in 5 months (!!). I’ve set an incredibly lofty goal of raising $10,000 for Dana Farber Cancer Institutes to give back to the doctors and organization that helped my brother overcome his cancer last year. I'm so excited to run Boston and support my brother and Dana Farber, and I hope you'll support me as well.

Here's the link to donate. 

The real reason why I'm back blogging is that I ran a PR at my last half marathon! I wrote my last post about my training leading up to the Gansett Half Marathon and how well it went. As the training went on, I gained confidence in my ability to be competitive in this race. Between the long runs, hill workouts and strength circuits, I was in good shape. Not college or sub-20 good shape, but good shape nonetheless. I also wanted to try a new race strategy. I often preach to the girls on my team about starting out conservatively and taking down runners as you speed up. And yet, I don't often practice this myself. So this time around I told myself to actually take this seriously, and it really made a difference.

You know what else made a difference? The race started at 11 AM, which meant that we didn't have to wake up at the crack of dawn. Bestie, co-coach and training partner, Jillian, and I drank some coffee and headed down to Rhode Island. Among Jillian's many talents is that she can curate a killer playlist, so we blasted the tunes all the way into the Ocean State. After checking in, entering the raffle for a pie (which we didn't win), and warming up on the course, we were ready to go.

We even had time to braid our hair

The first few miles were like a short out and back peninsula before we headed out on the body of the course. My PR half marathon pace was about 7:38 but for the first few miles I really tried to control my pace and keep it at 7:45-7:50. I knew I felt good but I wanted to wait to surge. After the first 3 miles, I let myself go and slowly reined in the runners in front of me. The course took us right by the beach and as I passed by I had to remind myself to take in the beautiful scenery. Needless to say, I was focused. As I hit the halfway point, I came upon another woman who was moving at a good clip. I wanted to draft behind her but I ended up getting impatient behind her and passed her as I turned the corner at mile 8.

At my previous half marathon, where I was 4 seconds off my PR, I ran so well because I kicked it in for the last 5k of the race. This strategy felt good for both for my body and for my competitive spirit, so I wanted to do that again. There was a group of girls running in front of me, and to be honest, they didn't look like they should have been running as fast as they were. I'm not talking body size or shape, but rather because they were wearing leggings. This is one of my biggest pet peeves, when people overdress for running. It was almost 60 degrees and cloudy, ain't nobody got time for leggings! I set my sights on this group and used them as motivation to start dropping time. 7:22, 7:17, 7:27, 7:23, 6:57. At mile 11, I passed finally passed those girls, wished them good luck, and didn't look back. Then I came upon a total bro and we raced to the finish. I generally don't have a strong kick, but I just can't let myself lose to a guy. I'm happy to report that I did out-kick him, and in the process I ran a new half marathon PR of 1:38:26!

Yeah, I beat him

Before the half marathon, I knew my training had gone well but I didn't want to be overconfident. Honestly, staying calm and listening to my body helped me to run a smart race that happened to be my best time. It was such a great feeling to run a strong race and know that I still have some speed in me. Since the race I've been focusing on other parts of my life and work and haven't run as much. Once I start gearing up for Boston, I'll definitely call upon these feelings to motivate me to train and race harder.

Until the next race,

Rachel "appropriate running clothes please" Runner

Marathon Month and Beyond

In the competitive running world, October is known as Marathon Month. Due to the mostly cooler weather, welcome after long and hot summer training cycles, runners compete in marathons and half marathons across the country. In many ways, I too have caught the bug.

I'm gearing up for my next half marathon on October 25th in Narragansett, Rhode Island. On the one hand, I haven't been following a specific training plan and haven't done much intentional speed work. On the other hand, I've been running a lot of miles and feeling great about it. My running log shows run after run where I've felt strong, giving testament the great runs I've had recently. My long runs have been 12, 13, and 14 miles and I've been able to negative split them. After each one, I've even wanted to continue on for miles more. This is such a rare and wonderful feeling! I believe I'm recovering well afterwards, paying attention to fueling and hydration. And a perk of coaching cross country this fall is that I get to work out with my girls, doing strength circuits, core, and other ancillary exercises that make us stronger runners. The course for the Gansett Half Marathon looks to be incredibly flat. Even if I can't manage a PR, I think I can run a formidable race. I'm so excited to get after it.

I ran around this whole lake and dam on my long run

Many of my friends and Oiselle teammates are also participating in Marathon Month, and seeing their results has been the best motivation. From guy friends absolutely killing it in the Hartford marathon and half marathon, to my grad school friend Rachel who qualified for the Olympic Trials at Chicago, and so many first time finishers. I want to drink the kool-aid too. I want to be a part of this.

And I'm excited to announce that soon I will be too! This past spring I ran a Boston qualifying time in my first marathon, and recently I was accepted to run Boston this April. Not only that, but I was also accepted into the Dana Farber Marathon Challenge team, so I will be running and raising money for cancer research and treatment. My goal is to raise $10,000 for this noble cause. I'll be sharing more in the coming weeks and months, but I hope you will consider donating.

My Fundraising Page

The most exciting news

Dolla Dolla Bills, Y'all

Rachel Runner

By the numbers: Providence Marathon Race Recap

I can barely put into words the experience of my first marathon the other week. It was incredible, hard, fun, rewarding, painful, and everything in between. Instead of writing a blog post as long as the race itself, I am going to recap by the numbers.

18: the number of weeks I trained for the race.

563: the number of miles I ran, from January 1 to May 3rd.

55: the number of miles I ran during my highest mileage week.

20: Longest run pre-marathon.

3:03: How long it took me to run those aforementioned 20 miles. In the marathon, I hit 23 miles in exactly the same time.

3: the number of pairs of shoes worn for training. Mizuno Wave Inspire, Mizuno Wave Rider, Brooks Launch 2 Boston edition.

5:15: the time I woke up on the morning of the marathon. Rarely am I ever awake that early.

Is that you, sunrise?

15: the number of people I knew at the race. Jillian and Colleen ran the half marathon. Sharon, Amelia, Amanda, Than, and a Oiselle teammate Beth all ran the marathon. Robyn, Chris, Sarah, Sarah's parents, my parents and my brother were all there watching, cheering and taking pictures.

Chris, Robyn, Jillian, me and Colleen

Amelia (her first marathon as well!), Sarah and me

Dad and Mom

Me and Sharon

3 1/2: the number of GUs I consumed. In order: mandarin orange (my favorite!), triple berry, salted caramel, and half of a chocolate. By the time I tried my last one, it was so hot and the sugar was starting to make me feel sick. I held onto it for many miles and finally threw it away.

18: the mile at which I hit the wall. Mentally I was fine, but my legs tightened up like crazy. I felt like I slowed down considerably, even though in reality I was able to maintain a decent pace and even push through at the end.

22 and 24: the miles at which Robyn found me, first in pain and agony "deep cleansing breaths, like Deb taught us" and later in excitement and elation. Hearing her say "see you at the finish line!" helped me realize how close I was to finishing and qualifying.

"I can do this?"

"I can do this!"

7:59: my last mile. I was able to stay under 8:00 per mile for 18 miles before I hit the wall. As I approached the finish line, despite my legs being completely dead, I tried for one last rally. Sub-8 after 25 miles felt like a huge accomplishment!

164: My overall place. In a field of 1,107 runners, I was in the top 15%.

3:31:07: My official finishing time. Average pace of 8:01, and fast enough for a Boston Qualifier!

Full marathon results here.