Goodbye, penultimate month of 2018, and hello December (and very soon, CIM).
Staring down both the final month of what has turned out to be a weird-as-hell year, in addition to the last few days pre-marathon, makes for a great existential exercise. It’s just bizarre how both fast and slow this year has gone by. It doesn’t seem like the SF Marathon was all that long ago, but here we are, an entire other marathon training cycle behind us, and the Big Day is greeting us all on Sunday with open arms to come and get it.
blurry pic, blurry month. deep!
November is always a sentimental month for me, between my birthday, my wedding anniversary, and Thanksgiving, and this year was no different. I celebrated my 35th birthday by having (wait for it) … a baseline mammogram! Thirty-five is a pretty young age to get your knockers smooshed between a vice, but my family history sorta necessitated it (grandma’s diagnosis was at 65 and mom’s at 55, though nope, extensive genetic testing shows that we don’t have BRCA1 or 2). It wasn’t painful or anything — uncomfortable and kinda weird, sure — but I think I’d take that any day over another MRI of my head. ::shudders::
first mamm, first pair of specs. hello, 35.
My in-laws visited at different points of the month, which was quite lovely, so C and I were able to get out for some nice quality time a bit, too.
anniversaring at the Mystery Spot in Santa Cruz
And in keeping with our every-other-year tradition, the fam bam and I spent Thanksgiving with all our favorite Disney friends in Anaheim. On the whole, it was a good month.
we’re going through that awkward stage where G sorta kinda always smiles like a bulldog
I *almost* had it. Sorta.
fambam wide-angle selfie at Disneyland
And then, of course, everything went to hell once the wildfires began. The Camp Fire, nearest to us here in the Bay Area, was still a good 200+ miles away, but holy hell did it wreak havoc on our air quality for nearly two solid weeks. The destruction and devastation that inferno brought further field, up north, seemed purely apocalyptic, and for days, every.single.time I read the news updates about it, I just wept out of powerlessness.
It was so profoundly sad and tragic, and strangely, though the towns most affected by the fire were pretty small in population, numerous friends of mine here knew someone, personally, who lived up there and who lost their homes. So many lives lost and so much property destroyed; knowing what the AQ was like here, so far away from it, I cannot fathom how bad it must have been in the immediate surroundings. It hurts my heart.
With the AQ tanking for nearly two weeks, naturally, my running in November took a hit; that was to be expected. Instead of closer to 200+ that I would have likely posted, I was closer to 158. No matter. Shit, for two weeks, all types of outdoor events were cancelled or postponed multiple hours north and south of us, including a couple of A’s swim meets and the PA XC championship race. It’s pretty hard to complain about not being able to run outside for a while knowing how devastating and damaging the fire was to so many people’s lives. I mean, that goes without saying. A little perspective goes a long way.
In the wake of the fire, I missed a couple long runs — a 22 miler and a 14 — because I wasn’t keen to do them on treadmills out of trepidation more than anything; running that long on a treadmill relatively close to my goal race wasn’t a calculated risk I was comfortable taking. Fun fact: prior to the Camp Fire, I hadn’t run on a treadmill since I was pregnant with A back in 2011 (it was the day of the “Groundhog Day blizzard”), mostly because I don’t like how broken my body feels after running on them.
Way back in the day, like over a decade ago, when I first began training for marathons, I used to run on treadmills a lot, and it never bothered me. Then, for whatever reason, something happened, and anytime I ran on a treadmill, afterward I just felt like absolute garbage, like every part of me just felt broken. The remedy: never run on a treadmill again. Always run outside or don’t run at all. Done.
treadmilling with some teammates and not impressing anyone with my “countries of the world in alphabetical order” trick (PC: Janet)
The unsafe AQ during the Camp Fire meant that if I wanted to run at all, I had to suck it up and hope for the best on the ‘mill and just do what I could. Fortunately, by Thanksgiving, the rain arrived and helped to send the trapped, smoke-filled air out to sea. Right around that time, the fire had been fully contained, and our skies have since returned to their lovely hue.
Anaheim running over Thanksgiving and just being thrilled to see blue skies for the first time in nearly two weeks
So here we are, right before CIM, my second go at this particular race. When I compare notes from last year’s CIM training to that of 2018, it’s almost laughable how different everything is and importantly, how different (read: how much better) I feel this time around. That, by itself, is a huge win to me.
The tl;dr version: last year, for an indeterminate amount of time, my liver was fucked, though we didn’t learn about it until my birthday in early November, a month before the race, at my annual physical. I was running hard and training hard last year, but post-SF marathon, I felt pretty bad — extremely fatigued — a lot. When it was all said and done, my then-GI determined that I was likely experiencing a rare-but-documented side effect to the medicine he had prescribed me for my microscopic colitis (which, another fun fact, my current GI doesn’t believe I have. Cool).
I went into CIM ‘17 hopeful for a great weekend, trusting in my training but unsure about how my body was going to respond (thanks to that excessive, suffocating fatigue and all). Just a couple weeks prior to CIM, I debated whether running it would be a good idea because I had felt so awful during a half marathon; how in the world was I going to run twice the distance and faster!?! Magically, I managed to eke out a three-second PR at CIM, despite feeling like just about everything was stacked against me for the better part of the quarter. (In addition to my liver nonsense, during that quarter, my husband had pretty bigtime surgery and was recovering from it; my eldest’s teacher up and quit before the first month of school was over; yadda yadda yadda. When it rains, it fucking pours!). Anyway. Three seconds in a marathon isn’t much, but to have pulled that off despite the shitstorm that was September-November ‘17 just floored me. It was hard not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of it all.
from CIM ’17. my heart swells with love for Connie and Meg (PC: Meg’s IG)
This is minutes before the end of the race, and I look like I’m talking about dinner plans. What the hell, self!? (I remember working very hard here, as hard as it may be to believe from the photographic evidence!) So fun that Tiffany picked me up at mile 21 and ran me in dressed up like a slice of pepperoni (PC: CT)
and my heart swells for my team. lots of love to these harriers. since CIM is the US marathon championship race and on the PA circuit, there will be lots of us out there again on Sunday. (PC: WRC)
Regardless of the time I post on Sunday, race day, race weekend is going to be excellent.
Anything can happen, — alas, that’s the exhilarating and heartbreaking speciality of the marathon — but I know that the totality of my training has prepared me.
I am immensely looking forward to toeing the line with tons of friends from all over the country and to seeing friends on the sidelines, too.
What great joy and fortune we all have to be physically capable of doing this hobby for no real reason other than because we can.
seriously, we are so lucky and fortunate
It’s so, so easy to romanticize the marathon, to think that this brutal distance somehow owes us something after we’ve committed weeks and months of our lives to it. The fact of the matter is that this distance isn’t for the faint of heart. It owes us nothing, though we (I) may feel like we (I) owe it quite a lot, in fact.
It is through training for this behemoth distance — training to not only cover the distance, period, but also to cover it as quickly as we can possibly sustain — that we are given numerous opportunities to learn about ourselves and our capacity for growth, change, you name it. A lot goes down, both mentally and physically, in all those training and racing miles we post in advance of The Big Day.
For being something intangible, something inanimate, something insentient, this distance sure makes for a powerful teacher.
It’s something for which I am profoundly thankful.
who knew that one foot in front of the other, repeatedly, for very long distances, as fast as you can possibly sustain, could be such a game-changer
When it comes down to it, the marathon will test every ounce of us and expose any vulnerability we have.
We will have superb patches, miles where we’re convinced that we’ve got so much latitude still to work with and tricks in our belt to pull out.
And like that, practically without fail, there will also be patches that are just insufferable and that leave us grasping for anyone, anything, to help us and save us from this self-imposed tribulation.
It’s likely that we won’t understand why we do this in the heat of the moment, but when we finish, we will.
The reasons, the meaning, will be crystal clear.
We’ve trained for all of these moments, all this facilitative stress. / let’s go
Trust yourself and in your training. / it’s there
Believe in the process. / journey > destination
—–
Racing: The only November race on my plan originally was the XC champs, but it got postponed a week because of the fire. The new, postponed date was just after Thanksgiving, once we returned from Disneyland. I wanted to do a LR after not doing one for two weeks, so I didn’t partake after all (sad face). Also, belatedly, I received a very nice award from the BSFM for placing fifth in my AG at that race in July. (Quite unexpected that they created awards five deep, but many thanks!).
Reading: I re-read Peak Performance this month and finished reading The Sun Does Shine, which was very powerful and very, very disturbing.
Listening: Nothing out of the ordinary here, though I enjoyed binging on just about every NYC Marathon-related podcast I got my hands (ears?) on. Man, I love NYC. Maybe I’ll go back one day… Oh, and I recently rediscovered my love of Juanes. Lots of Juanes.
Watching: Again, nothing comes to mind here except for when the fam and I saw Ralph Breaks the Internet right after Thanksgiving. C and I are going to start listening to this podcast about the top 100 movies of all time … or something … and then watch the movies they talk about, but it’ll probably take me decades to make it through the first five at the rate I watch movies.
Running: I’m queueing up my 2019 racing schedule… what’s on your list?!
Because marathons are immense distances to cover, training for them and subsequently racing them gives us all many “learning opportunities,” if we dare to listen. The past week has been a whirlwind of awesome marathon activity for many of my friends – we’re talking solid PRs, some great BQs, and of course, the mother of them all, the Boston Marathon – and all the aforementioned, along with the minor detail that I’m running a marathon in a week’s time, got me thinking that I should stroll down memory lane for a minute and see what stands out to me as “lessons learned” from the 26 marathons I’ve run. This will amount to a dissertation, so I’ll break it up over a few posts to save your eyesight (and to give me some more time to dig up some artifacts).
we’re goin old school for these races. I have about five years’ worth of running logs that look more or less like this. (and naturally, the page I find to photograph details a run wherein I got the runs. naturally).
In chronological order:
2007 – 2 marathons
LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon: there’s no time like your first. ’07 was “the hot year,” which made finishing my first attempt at the distance even better more memorable. Going into my first marathon, I felt prepared and ready, thanks to some solid training and coaching all year long from Team in Training, but the marathon is a beast and demands respect, the type that you can only really give it after experiencing it (if that makes any sense). A few things (among many) that I remember about this race include accidentally clipping a girl’s heels on Broadway, after the northern-most turn-around; wondering if it was normal to hear so many ambulance sirens on the west side (I’m thinking it was along Wentworth); and swearing that from then on, in every marathon/any distance run that I’d run, I would always wear sunglasses. My takeaways: there’s no time like your first, so just enjoy it as much as you can; sunglasses FTW; be extremely mindful of runners who are only a stride or two ahead of you; and no, even on the west side of Chicago on a sunny October day, hearing a ton of ambulance sirens during a marathon is not normal.4:24:41
I’ve talked a lot on the blog about how/why I started with TNT. I also convinced Traci, a college gal pal, that running a marathon was a good life choice. 🙂 We did it as an effort to honor our moms (hers, above; mine was in Ohio) and all the shit they had endured bc of their respective cancers/strokes. [this pic is actually from Chicago ’08. details…]so.hot.outside. at my first go of this marathon thing. pretty impressive angry face, eh?
Charlotte Thunder Road Marathon (NC): I registered for my second marathon before finishing my first, in part because my Team in Training coach from Chicago was on a 50-state quest and was going to knock NC off his list, and I wanted to tag along for what would surely be a fun weekend with a bunch of TNT runners and coaches. Between Chicago and NC (in December), I maintained fitness, got married in Mexico (and ran about 16 miles on a treadmill, kill me now), and come race day, ran a substantially better race and one that I think was more indicative of my ability at the time than Chicago was. The only things I really remember about this course include running through some subdivisions still being built; a motorist being pissed as fuck at the police, who were blocking traffic lanes to protect the runners; and having a perfect chocolate ice cream cone with rainbow sprinkles after the race. Takeaway: weather on marathon morning 1000% matters; it can make or break your run. Thank cops and volunteers relentlessly during your race because they’re keeping your ass safe, hydrated, nourished (and so on). Don’t think that you’re too serious a runner that you can’t enjoy treats.3:52:37
2008 – 6 marathons (dear lord)
AT&T Austin (TX) Marathon: This was another quick turn-around (from December to February), and I recall visiting my family in Ohio in the winter and going to my high school track to run repeats of some sort through probably six-eight inches of unplowed snow. At the time, I wondered if what I was doing was excessive or dumb, but I was so beholden to my training schedule – probably some incarnation of what I had used from TNT for Chicago (and consequently, Charlotte) – that I felt it totally necessary. I wanted to do well in Austin, so come hell or high water, I was out there training in the grips of winter (and rarely on a treadmill. It’s not a pride thing; it’s a “I-don’t-like-the-way-they-make-my-body-feel” thing). The trip was a lot of fun because my parents also flew down to meet me and to stay with my brother and his gf at the time in Austin. I recall the race being hilly, compared to what I was used to from living in the north shore; the neat fireworks that started the race; and finishing the race completely exhilarated that I had somehow just notched my first BQ (a 3:37, back when the standard was 3:40) when I wasn’t going for it. I had read about Boston and its qualification standards (when I had read virtually every book about running from the Lake Forest library), and I quickly relegated myself to being able to qualify when I was in my 50s+. Doing so at my third marathon (my second in favorable running weather) was a huge – fucking enormous – surprise to me. After the race, my fam and I had some type of steak dinner, and it was that night – Valentine’s Day ish– that I decided to go vegetarian once and for all. I had been reading a lot of Thich Nhat Hanh at the time, and I think all his ruminations, combined with the surely torrential flood of endocannibinoids that were coursing through my body post-PR and BQ, just sealed the deal for me. Takeaway: don’t ever sell yourself short when it comes to your goals. That sounds like a shitty fitspo thing you’d find on Pinterest, but seriously. None of us know what we’re capable of, where our ceiling is, so it doesn’t make sense to limit ourselves. (Easier said than done, I acknowledge). Also, sometimes you might make choices post-runs that you find questionable later in life, but at the same time, you might not. Thusly, don’t eat meat. 🙂 3:37:52, PR (which would stand until 2012)
#longlivethenewspaper (avid reader here). Very cool to see my name in Austin’s paper after a big PR/BQ! I still have it.
Nashville’s Country Music Marathon: I was back with TNT and helping out as a fundraising mentor for Nashville, still living in the north shore at the time, and every weekend, our group would go out to Busse Woods or Waterfall Glen (in the dead of winter…) and usually end up running laps around office park buildings (the 3com building, if you’re playing along at home) or on the main driveway at WFG near Argonne. If you live in Chicago and want to mentally callous yourself all winter, go run laps around an office park or up and down the driveway at WFG for 12, 16, or 20 milers. Our participants rarely came out for our group runs– only the staff and we volunteers, all of whom were obligated to be there – but we continued to put in the effort and mileage week in and week out. Race day in Nashville met us with an unmatched thunder- and lightning storm, which might have even delayed the start, if I recall correctly. I don’t remember a ton about the course, save that they served Accelerade, which was akin to drinking sawdust (I imagine) and that there was a group of nuns serving “holy water” at an unofficial aid station. I ran nearly all of the race with TNT mentor buddy Mike, and though I had just come off a BQ and PR two months prior, for some reason I wanted to go for it again. Both of us blew up around mile 23, and much to our surprise, the 3:40 pacer who went out like hell early on finished juuuust before us, in a dead sprint to the finish. It was shortly before (or maybe after?) this race that I bought my blog domain … and proceeded to do nothing with it for a year-plus. Takeaway: consistency in training matters. Show up, even when you don’t want to. On race day, run your own race. Pacers are human and therefore can (and probably will) make a mistake or two. Even when you wonder why the hell you’re doing this mid-training, when it feels like you’re spinning your wheels (or literally running around an office building, wanting to gouge your eyes out and/or cut off your legs), keep the thing, the thing, and just do the thing. Make sure you know prior to race day what you’ll be drinking on course, and try it out ahead of time, if you can. If you’re a runner; blog. It lends itself nicely to it. 3:44:57
Madison (Wisco) Marathon: Another tight turn-around (from April to May) and again, for some reason I was set on trying to BQ again; maybe I was trying to BQ-streak or something. In retrospect, I can’t recall why I wanted to do this or thought it was a good idea. Fortunately, the weather was agreeable, and I remember seeing wild turkeys on the course, which just made my day for some reason. This was a quick weekend trip with C and my inlaws, and we had a blast pre- and post-race because Madison is just such a weird-ass city, kinda like Austin. I had GI distress for basically the entire run, though – if memory serves, I think I had to shit from the halfway point onward but didn’t want to blow my BQ attempt – so as soon as I finished – literally seconds after crossing over the finishing line – I beelined it to a porta-potty. I was extremely lucky. Throughout the race, my half-consumed gu managed to go upside down on my butt pocket, so another participant warned me that it looked like I had shit myself. In retrospect, at least I’d have a “cover” in the event that my GI system blew up before I made it to safety. Takeaway: GI distress sucks. If you’re going to go halfsies on your gels mid-race, bag ’em up to save yourself some potential embarrassment and sticky everything.3:39:21
running away from C and my in-laws in Madison
Akron (Ohio) RoadRunner Marathon: The fall of ’08 was an experiment in multiple marathoning in a really short timeframe. Ed, my TNT coach from ’07 who was on his 50 state quest, would soon be finishing things up in Denver in October, and I wanted to run that with him but also still do Akron and Chicago. Akron is where my family is, so I looked forward to running on my “home turf” and to seeing my family on the sidelines. Since it was just a few weeks before Chicago, and not much longer before Denver, I took things easy and enjoyed myself. At the time, Akron was a steal of a race, too: entrants got the usual medal, food, etc. but also a Brooks running jacket (the Podium jacket, I think, with something like a $70 MSRP) and a pair of Brooks shoes. Takeaway: it’s possible to run a marathon “just for fun.” Also, sometimes smaller-town races are total gems. Seeing family mid-race is always an excellent pick-me-up. 3:55:31
I think everyone should run Akron at least once. The finish line is at Canal Park stadium (I don’t know if it’s still called that, but it’s where Akron’s minor league baseball team plays), and it’s just a lot of fun.
Chicago: Since my inaugural race was at Chicago with TNT, I returned to it again in ’08, again as a fundraising TNT participant, and vowed for redemption. Fail, fail, fail. Another obscenely warm day meant another 4-hour-plus race, but when you run races as a fundraiser/charity runner, I think you kinda go into things with an entirely different perspective. Sure, the race matters, but really… it kinda doesn’t. While I was happy to run with TNT again at Chicago, I was beginning to think that there was some wicked voodoo thing going on that all but assured that if I ran Chicago, it’d be a toasty-ass day. I was frustrated to still not break 4 on my home course, the one that’s so well-known for PR performances, but c’est la vie. Chicago’s marathon wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, so in time, I got over my resentment for randomly warm Sundays in October. It was very cool to do Chicago again with Traci (pictured in the ’07 Chicago blurb), have a bunch of her family members come down and run or spectate, and we even got our friend Stephanie to run, too! Lots of fun, weather be damned. Takeaway: October in Chicago is unpredictable. Respect the weather on race day (still). Run a race as a charity runner, and I can guarantee you that you’ll care about things differently. 4:09:07
running alongside Mike in Lincoln Park, proudly still rockin’ the purple
Denver: My third marathon in four weeks, and at altitude (I think?), and while I was in the throes of working full-time and being in grad school full-time, I all but guaranteed myself a tired-ass run and race. I started Denver optimistically (ha) and by 13, was flat-out strolling. Ed, there with a cadre of other runners and me, all there to celebrate his 50th state completion, eventually caught up to me, and we walked-ran the rest of the way in together, finishing side-by-side. Denver is my marathon PW, but I look at it with fond memories because the entire trip was about Ed finally finishing his 50-state quest. It was such a special memory and so very cool to be there and to be literally step-in-step with him as he realized such a huge-ass goal that had taken years to fulfill. So many other IL-based runners had come out to celebrate and/or run with him, and I was both honored and elated to be able to be there, too. Takeaway: marathons can be celebratory activities. The time on the clock matters as much as you want it to matter; this will be a recurring theme. Multiple marathoning in very short timeframes is doable, but you’ve got to have realistic expectations about how things will pan out.4:48:34, a very memorable and special PW
steps away from finishing Ed’s 50th state
the 50-state finisher! actually, all but two people in this pic are 50-state finishers.
2009 – 4 marathons
Boston: Oh my. First Boston. I met some wonderful people with whom I am still friends today during my first Boston training (and through what was a pretty shitty Chicago winter, if memory serves). Come race weekend, I was 100% all nerves, making me a real joy to be around in what was supposed to be a race-vacation (sorry, C). I was so focused on running a good Boston that I didn’t want to do anything all weekend long except go to the expo, go to dinner with the group, and keep my legs up. ::yawn:: God bless my husband. Come race day, I ran a pretty good race until about mile 23, when my total and utter failure to fuel properly caught up to me, making me hit the wall so hard and so dramatically that I swore I was going to fall asleep standing up (and while moving forward). Boston ’09 remains my worst bonk, and I swore to myself that I’d never, ever, put myself in that position again in a race. I was on track to requalify at Boston up until that point – something that I thought was nearly impossible – and I blew it because I had probably consumed about 200 calories (!) from when I woke up that morning through mile 23 (!!!!!!!!!) in the race. Ouch. I talked with a dietitian after the race, got some pointers, and went back to the drawing board. Also, this was my only marathon wherein I wore tights instead of shorts (but still wore a singlet… call the fashion police on me for that one). Takeaways: Boston is special; even on a bad racing day, Boston is Boston is Boston. Fueling properly is critical. Don’t wear tights with a singlet, unless you want to look like a bowling pin. Right on Hereford; left on Boylston. 3:47, the 7 minutes that broke my heart for a long time
[can you believe I can’t find a single picture from my Boston ’09?! was I so nervous that I couldn’t take one shot????]
Rockford, IL Marathon: This was another fast turn-around (about a month), and since I had family in Rockford who’d be cheering for me, it made for a very low-key, low-nerves event. I think I had something to prove to myself about my fitness after utterly blowing up at Boston, and with a new nutrition plan in place, I went into this race feeling much better about how I’d fare. Rockford remains one of the smallest marathons I’ve run (even though it had a HM and relay option, I think), and there were several points along the course where there was nobody ahead of or behind me, making me wonder if I was even in the right place. With the total absence of nerves compared to Boston, I got my “redemption,” got to see my family along the way, and had a great OA/AG placement, thanks to the small field. 😉 Takeaways: Racing redemption can mean whatever you want it to mean – going faster or racing smarter, for example. You’ve got nothing to prove to anyone, except when you feel like you owe it to yourself; in which case, go for it because no one else will care as much as you. (I mean that lovingly, though it sounds like I’m being flippant about it). Smaller races, while lacking in fanfare and (perhaps) ambiance compared to their big-city counterparts, can have a lot going for them. Try really hard not to get lost mid-course. 3:39:11
one of the best tchotchkes I’ve ever gotten from a race. the RPS kids apparently made little motivational signs for the runners, so we all had signs in our packets. I like the “I hope you guys win!” sentiment. 🙂 this was hanging at my cubicle for years!
Akron Marathon: I wanted to return to Akron because I had enjoyed myself so much there in ’08. The course was challenging (though it has since been changed to be “easier,” in the RD’s words – for shame!); I loved being able to see my folks during the race; and I will always take an excuse to go home to see my family. I took things really easy and finished the race “feeling like I could keep running,” according to my RR from the time. I remember getting rained on the last 10k of the course, once we cleared Stan Hywet Hall, and thinking that that was the most magical thing ever. (Eds. Note: I am, apparently, easily amused and amazed during endurance events. Lack of oxygen, much?). I would be running Marine Corps in a month’s time, and I finished Akron feeling untaxed and unfazed. My training had been horrible during the summer ’09, thanks to what was probably rampant overtraining – no surprise, given how much I had been racing – as well as full-time employment, full-time graduate school, and interning PT at a refugee resettlement agency up in Albany Park (which amounted to a LOT of time on the CTA traveling between Lincoln Park, the Loop, and AP)… as well as ongoing issues with my GI system that would later lead me to getting tested for a battery of fun stuff like Celiac’s, Crohns, UC, and the like. God, reading all of that again makes my head spin. I had also brilliantly decided that summer ’09 would be an excellent time to try Pfitz training for the first time, a decision that lasted all of one week, if that, before I realized I was in waaaaaaaay over my head. With all of this in mind, then, I knew going into my autumn ’09 races that they’d be less about time-on-the-clock and more about the experiences, and finishing Akron with a smile on my face and with enthusiasm to go run MCM in about a month’s time signaled a success for me – albeit a very tired and weary success. Takeaways: life totally matters when it comes to marathon training. If you’re working FT, going to school FT, interning PT, and the like, throwing marathon training into the mix might be questionable. That is to say that marathon training during and through hectic life periods might provide for a semblance of balance, but remember on race day all the balls you had to juggle to get to the starting line in one piece. Cut yourself some slack periodically. Again: you are the one, the only one, who ascribes worth to the time on the clock. 4:17:59
Marine Corps Marathon: About a month after Akron, my parents flew down to DC to meet-up with C and me for a little race-vacation over MCM weekend. None of us had ever been before, and with a lot of planning on my part, I think it’s safe to say that we all had a really cool and fun trip together and got to see/experience a lot of DC. I was worried about DC’s accessibility for my mom, but damn: the government sure does a good job of making sure that folks on scooters can get anywhere. We all stayed in Crystal City, actually along the course (much to my surprise), so seeing them around mile 23 was a great pick-me-up. With my sub-par training during the summer, my only goal was to go sub-4 but more than anything, just to enjoy myself and sightsee along the way. Mission accomplished. I vividly remember getting to the race start late, thanks to some transportation issues out of my control, and being in the porta-potty while the national anthem was going on. Thank god for chip timing, though I still stupidly tried to schlep myself up towards the front of the crowds so as to not get stuck behind slower-moving participants. All in all, it was an excellent family trip, with a nice little marathon thrown in for good measure. Takeaway: race-cations can be a lot of fun, even if (especially if) a breakthrough marathon performance isn’t your goal. Also, make sure you cross your Ts and dot your Is to ensure that you get to where you’re supposed to be on time, even with chip timing on your side. 3:57:13
this cracks me up. we had a lot of fun, though my mom is trying to convince you otherwise.
cheesin
12 marathons down! Next up: the 2010 & 2011 installment.
