Back in December, one of the nurses I work with asked me if she ran a marathon, if I’d run it with her.  We sipped on some wine (less than a glass was consumed at that point, so it wasn’t the alcohol talking), and I love running, so of course I agreed…someone wants to run a marathon?  I’m in.  I know I would have loved support during my races and know that running with someone is so much more fun and easier than running by yourself…so I agreed.

I assembled a list of some May marathons that would be good possibilities for a first marathon, and since she’s originally from New Jersey, we went with that one.  Easy to get to from NYC and her parents could join.  So we registered.

The New Jersey Marathon was three weeks after Boston, which is the shortest amount of time I’ve ever done between the distances.  My legs weren’t so happy with me after Boston, but I squeaked in a ten mile run the week before.  It’d be at a slower pace, so no worries.  Based on her half time (2:08), I was figuring around a 4:45-5 hour marathon, but as a first, I was worried about time.  She pulled a muscle in her glute and had to take some time off, so who knew what race day would hold.  The plan wasn’t for me to “pace” her so to speak, but just to run with her the entire way and be supportive.

Just so you know, this is about how good I am at comforting someone, compliments of "What Should We Call Nursing”:

Moving on.  It’s race report time!

pre-race

After debating hotels vs staying with someone vs a train, we decided to take the 5am NJ Transit train that the marathon had rented.  It left from Penn Station, made maybe four stops on the way to the start of the race, and got in a little bit after 6am.  Alyssa and I live in the same neighborhood, so we met at the glorious hour of 4:15am to grab a cab to the train station…people were still out from Saturday night and Penn Station had a mix of marathoners and people looked to get home from their big nights out.  Way to be, NYC.

I grabbed some coffee for the train ride, and we settled in on a train full of runners.  It was looking to be a good day for a run, and Alyssa kept saying how she didn’t feel like she was going to run a marathon that day…a feeling I wish I had before my marathons because I always get so nervous!  It was an interesting experience because I don’t even remember what my first marathon was like…I remember driving to the Metro and having no idea what really was happening since I hadn’t ton a lot of big races before it. 

Anyway!  The train was pretty quick and dropped us off around 6:05 right by the starting area.  We did same day packet pick-up, so we grabbed our bibs and tshirts (which are really nice!) and then headed inside the race track building near the start since it was a little bit chilly out.  We immediately found the bathroom (real, indoor bathrooms!) then pinned our bibs on our shirts.  When registered, I took suggestions for names to put on my bib, and Emily suggested this gem:

Unfortunately, it was written pretty small and therefore hard to see on the run.  Oh well.

They actually messed up Alyssa’s bib and put her mom’s name (her emergency contact?) on the bib instead of her name…so maybe it was good that you couldn’t read it.

We hung out, went to the bathroom again, hung out some more, then headed over to bag check…which was just three moving trucks.  Much different than the gazillion school buses up at Boston!  Also, due to increased security, we could only use the clear plastic bags that the marathon provided for us and couldn’t put other bags inside the bags.  I should wrote a post about my thoughts on race security sometime, but that’s an opinion for another day.

My high school cross country sweatshirt from 2000!

The weather was a little bit chillier than I expected…Saturday had been quite warm and the forecast was to be the same on Sunday, but the morning was chilly and overcast.  I ran in shorts, tank top, tube sock arm warmers, and kept my throwaway sweatshirt on in the corral.  We lined up in Corral D, just in front of the 4:55 pace group.  Seemed about right.  They played some Bruce Springsteen and Sweet Caroline while we waited, and then a trumpet fanfare at the start of each corral.  I was happy there weren’t twenty corrals because that fanfare would have gotten old really quick!

We crossed the line about four minutes after the first people, and we were off!

race time

While we didn’t really have a plan, I figured we’d probably run 10:30-11:30-ish miles.  I ran with my Garmin just for an idea and because I’m neurotic under any circumstance.  I wasn’t totally sure what the experience would be like running toward the back of the pack and at a pace much slower than what I’m used to.  Basically, I just stuck next to Alyssa.  The first nine-ish miles are through neighborhoods that didn’t have a lot of people out, but some did come out to cheer.  It was still a little chilly and I wondered if I should have worn a long sleeve shirt instead.

We ran along…Alyssa listened to music and I just made random comments every now and then.  We had plenty of people around us, some with shirts on that said it was their first marathon, otherwise with #run4boston somewhere on their body.  The miles seemed to click off and every once in awhile I checked in with Alyssa to see how she was feeling.  I pumped my arms at every mile marker, and at mile 2, Alyssa told me she hated me.  We had wondered how long it would take for her to tell me that, haha.  And I sometimes took pictures…

Marathon!!

Also, I learned that the key to good race photos is to run much slower than your race pace…you will look much more like you’re having fun and less like you want to fall over.  Evidence:

Thumbs up!

Best race photo??

RUNNING IS FUN!

So, now you know.  I ran with my phone…for no real good reason other than maybe I could snap some pictures, and to text Jocelyn and Meggie who came to cheer…they were at mile 9, so I texted them when we got to mile 8  I spotted Meggie’s Oiselle scarf and started waving…and they started screaming.  “First marathon!  You look great!” then ran along side us for a short period before cutting off to head back to the city.

Picture compliments of Meggie!

As they left, Alyssa commented, “Your friends are really peppy…”  haha, that they are.  Jocelyn certainly has an appropriate blog name.

We continued on and started getting to a part of the course where it was a little more crowded…near where the half finish was.  Alyssa’s parents came to watch, and we first saw them around mile 10…waving our arms and yelling.  We made a quick stop to say hello…I shook her dad’s hand, which I don’t think I’ve ever done during a race before, haha.  We made it through town and then started on the giant out and back that is the last 14-ish miles of the course.

Much of the course was just on a large street, not necessarily close to the beach.  The water stops were every two-ish miles, so sometimes we stopped to grab a drink (note:  it’s easier to drink when you stop to drink instead of trying to drink at 7:30 pace, just saying).  After the halfway mark, we made a bathroom stop at a very scenic port-o-potty (ocean views from waiting outside!) and then moved along.  We spotted her parents a few more times…they were great spectators and made it to multiple spots!  We were always surprised when we spotted her mom’s green sweatshirt in the distance.

It was around mile 12 that Alyssa mentioned that her butt was really starting to hurt, but that she felt like she could keep going.  We took some short walk breaks and stretched a little bit, but we always got going again.  I started to get nervous around mile 15-ish because she kept saying that it hurt and that it hurt a lot, but it didn’t hurt any more to run than to walk, so we kept moving along.  I cheered a little extra at mile 16 (ten to go!), and then at mile 17 (single digits!).

We could see the marathoners coming back from the out-and-back, so I kept my eyes peeled for Robin…who I never saw because she was so speedy!  I did see Ashley at a water stop and almost yelled, “Running Bun!” instead of Ashley…oops.

The back part of the race got a bit windy (both in the “wind” sense and in the “curvy” sense)…I don’t know if they had to change the course a bit because, had it been crowded, some of the spots would have been really annoying to run on.  Small pedestrian sidewalk?  Not so sure about that one.  We got excited at mile 18 because that was the furthest Alyssa had run in training, and I was still a little nervous about her butt.  Some short stops to be followed by running again…we’d made it, I hoped!

At mile 20, I got a little excited, and at mile 21 I knew we would get to the finish one way or another.  I told Alyssa, “You can run five miles any day…we got this!”  (See above, I’m not a good cheerleader…)  At mile 22, Alyssa said, “I’m glad you’re here…I’d be crying on the side of the road without you.”  I figured it’d be at mile 22 that she would hate me instead of mile 2, but I’ll take it!  That being said, I sometimes wish I had someone with me in the late miles when I’m mentally down to keep pushing me…so I totally get that.

The miles continued to click off…23…24…I kept saying how close we were, and once we got to 24, I thought about it in terms of that extra 0.2 as well.  Two miles to go…1.5 miles…we’re going to do it!!  Alyssa asked if we could stop to walk near the end and I told her it was 0.75 miles to go…so we took a quick break and then picked it up to the end.  This part was all along the beach until we got into town, then it went back onto the beach.

Almost there!

We ran through the little town area, which included a woman who had her kids running with her for the last bit.  We made a turn to get onto the boardwalk and Alyssa asked, “Where’s the finish?  I can’t see it!”  It looked like flags and a cover was up ahead, so I pointed that out and we kept running.  I was SO excited and smiling at this point, saying random things like, “You’re going to do it!  We’re right there!!”  I think I was more excited for that than I have been about any of my recent marathons…

HOORAY!

Her parents were on the side at the finished and cheered…and took one of the best running pictures!

Marathon finish, flag, ocean…win!

We crossed the line and hugged…she did it!!  So exciting!  5:20:23 was the official time, hooray!  We walked along and got our medals…this is a fantastic shot:

MARATHONER!

Burn nurses on the run!

post-race

The only person who noticed the “Call Me Maybe” on my bib was the guy who was handing out the food bag…he asked in a quizzical voice, “…call me maybe?”  I don’t even remember what I said in reply, but something along the lines of, “Sure, it’s fun!” and he said, “Susan, right.”  Then we walked along, grabbed soft pretzels that we never ate, and found her parents.  We grabbed our bag check stuff, snapped a few pictures, and walked over to the car where Alyssa assumed the fetal position in the car, haha.  She had the sore leg waddle that I”m all too familiar with, but I think I was saved from thanks to the slower pace.

We ended up going to a diner for some post-marathon food with her parents (omelet…yum), and they dropped us off at a train station to get back into the city.  Sorry to the random guy who we sat next to, we may have been a little smelly…oh well.  Once we got home, we showered then headed out to Cilantro (Mexican restaurants with delicious margaritas) for some post-marathon Cinco de Mayo celebrating!  Post-marathon margaritas are even sweeter on Cinco de Mayo…

splits/etc

26.2 miles in 5:20:23, avg pace of 12:14

Splits looked a little like this:

Not too shabby…we do think she could have gone a little faster toward the end if her butt hadn’t hurt her.  Alyssa was doing fine running-wise and the motivation was there, but I know how hard it is to run in pain.  After the marathon, she did mention her “next” marathon…so there might be more to come!  However…it was her first marathon and that in itself is a great accomplishment, especially after injury!  I’m so proud.

thoughts and such

To all those people who say I can’t run slow…LOOK AT ME NOW.  Now if only I could implement that on my recovery days, ha.  My knees did feel a little sore at some points, probably because my stride was a little different.  Also, I am SO sunburned.  I knew I would need sunscreen, but I didn’t pack it and forgot to put it on before I left.  (Burn nurse fail…)

In regards to the marathon, it was really fun to experience someone’s first marathon with them.  I ran my first in 2006…and I only knew one person who had run one before, so I went into it very blind.  I hardly remember what it felt like, minus the fact that I vomited everything after the race.  (oops?)  Otherwise, the routine of the marathon is very familiar to me.  I get really nervous racing them, and I think this showed me that maybe I’d be better off if I didn’t worry so much.  Obviously this was a bit different than me pushing myself, but I can clearly cover the distance, I just need to learn how to do it in a smart manner.  Plus, often the distance is an accomplishment in itself, which I should remind myself of sometimes.  It really is a far distance to run, no matter how many times you do it.

I definitely think it would be fun to pace a group…while I would love to pace a BQ group, I need a little more confidence in my running at that speed (8:12-ish) since I barely did that myself at my last marathon.  But it was really fun to celebrate someone else’s hard work and to push them without thinking about my own goals.  As I said above, it might have been more exciting than any of my recent races.

And finally…Congrats, Alyssa!  You’re a marathoner!!

If this is wrong, I don’t want to be right.

I don’t get me wrong, running is my first love and always will be.  However, before I even discovered running (in 1997…it’s been awhile), I rode a bike.  I think my first one was a red one that I remember fall over into a car while learning to ride (thanks for letting go, Dad!), then I upgraded to my brother’s old blue and white bike.  When I outgrew that, I got a blue one.  Back in the day, I was known for riding around the neighborhood, ringing my friends’ doorbells and asking them if they wanted to ride bikes with me.  On a nice day, we’d ride around for hours and then race home to be back in time for dinner.  It was fun.

Last year, I started thinking that I wanted a bike in the city.  To get me to places further away, to explore the city in a different way, to be able to be outside on a nice day further away from my house than walking could take me.  I mentioned this to Jocelyn and she immediately jumped on the idea.  “We can do triathlons!  Centuries!  IRONMANS!”  She’s enthusiastic, if nothing else.

In February, we headed to a bike shop to get some recommendations, but it was a bit chilly (in my opinion…) to be riding a bike back to my apartment a few miles away.  I went to another bike shop on the UES just to get a second opinion.  I asked on Facebook what people liked, and they said that the bike that they recommended was a good entry level bike.  Let’s face it…it’d be new-ish to me, and since I’ve never been on a road bike before, basically anything will seem better than my old bikes.

Plus, it’s like buying a TV…you can stare and stare at TVs in Best Buy, but once you get the TV home, you’re most likely going to be happy with it.

So anyway.  Yesterday, I manned up and headed to Bicycle Habitat in SoHo with Jocelyn by my side for moral support and to help answer any questions the bike guy asked me since I really have no clue what I’m doing.  We looked at the bikes and found they one they recommended time we were there, except in the newer model.

Dave (the bike guy) asked us if we needed help, and he confirmed that this was a good bike for what I was looking for (entry level, beginner biker).  I took it for a test ride around SoHo, during which I honestly was more worried about not getting hit by a car than I was about getting a feel for the bike.  (I signed a waiver that basically signed away my life, so there’s that.)  I survived and the bike felt fine.  It’s like when you first go to buy running shoes and you’re just like, “Well, these seem okay…and this seem more okay than the last ones…”  No idea what it’s actually supposed to be like.

Dave grabbed another brand of bike for me to try for comparison, so I took that for a test ride as well.  It felt a little more zippy than the first one I was on, although maybe that was because I was slightly more comfortable in the crowded streets.  I sat forward a bit more, which I didn’t like as much, and decided to go with the first bike I tried.

JB made fun of my Toms.  They worked…

So…I got a Specialized Dolce Sport Compact.  In the color above.  (Identical bike twins with Kara!)  In fact, that’s my bike!  We added some final touches on the bike by getting two water bottle holders and a saddle bag that got filled with some stuff to help change a flat.  Not that I know how to do that, but Jocelyn and I are taking a repair class in a few weeks, so hopefully they’ll last until then.

We pondered getting clip in pedals, but opted to save those for when we do the repair class.  I haven’t been on a bike in the city yet…and to clip out in spin class, I usually have to take my foot out of the shoe and then yank the shoe off.  Soooo not the best idea when you’re trying to navigate the streets.  I handed over my credit card (I knew that part was coming at some point…) and with one swipe, the bike was mine all mine!  (Total cost for all things listed, in case you were wondering:  $1061.  Full disclosure.)

Thank you to Bicycle Habitat and Dave for all your help and for humoring me in the fact that I have no idea what I’m doing.  Jocelyn and I walked back to her apartment with the bike before I cut over to 1st Ave where there’s a bike lane.  Safety first, friends.  I had my first ride home and although I was a little nervous, it was really fun!  The delivery guys are a little crazy, let me tell you.  Otherwise, I safely made it home in one piece, as did the bike.

I have no place to put it, so for now it’s hanging out in my “hallway.” 

Can anyone in NYC help me get this on the wall?  Thanks in advance!

Today is a beautiful day in NYC, so I took the new bike out for a spin.  Central Park looks so different on a bike!  Harlem Hill is still hard…and I got a little lost trying to find the Hudson River Path, the signs confused me a bit.

Once I got to the Hudson River Path (slowly but surely…), I headed north.  A view of the GW Bridge and I believe I said out loud, “This is awesome…”  Because it was.  I decided to go to Jersey because…why not?  Rode up to the GW, almost fell over going up the hills to get up into Washington Heights, made it over the bridge.  Figured I couldn’t stop there, but had no idea where to go.  Three bikers went back so I followed them (playing “follow the random biker” couldn’t possibly go wrong, right?) and made it into the Palisades.  I can’t believe I’ve never run there before!  It was so pretty!  And hilly, yikes…

Thank you to the random bikers who slowed down and yelled out their car window to try to get me to use a different gear going up a hill.  Something about “the gears in back” that I still have no idea what they’re talking about.  One day…

After an hour, I headed back and made it to the bridge.  I’m pretty sure the view of Manhattan on the GW bridge coming from NJ to NY is one of the best views.  And the bikers behind me didn’t yell at me, thank you for that.  I then attempted to play follow the biker to get back to the Hudson River Path, but that was a miserable failure since they sped off and I ended up walking on a weird path. But I made it!

Two hour bike ride, check!  Running will always be my favorite, but I’m definitely looking forward to the summer on my bike!  Who wants to ride??  Any tips?  I’ll take anything…

That was a long, sweaty walk of defeat.  Glad that’s behind me, knock on wood.

While I’ll have plenty to talk about regarding my fall marathons and summer training, I have some exciting stuff coming up in the next few days!  First of all, I’m done with my everlasting stretch of four night shifts (My patient has troubling maintaining his body temperature, so his room is basically a sauna.  I think I’ve lost five pounds…each shift.), I hopped on a plane to Chicago!  I haven’t been back since Christmas, so I’m excited to see my family and friends.  My mom is retiring this year (hooray!), and her retirement dinner is Friday night, so the whole family is getting together. Other fun includes a Cubs game, my favorite food at home, and seeing my Katies!

I would have extended the trip and stayed into early next week, but Sunday is a big day!  Late last year, I was out getting drinks with one of my fellow nurses after she went through a breakup.  She decided that she wanted something to focus on, and since she ran a half marathon last year, she wanted to run a marathon…and asked if I’d run it with her.

Fun facts:

1)  If you ask me to run a race with you, I will.

2)  I’d only had about half a glass of wine at that point, so I can’t blame it on the alcohol.

But really, name a race, I’m in.

After a few marathon suggestions, we decided upon the New Jersey Marathon, as the timing was good for her training and close to her hometown in NJ so her parents can come.  So we signed up, and we’re in!  And that’s…on Sunday.  I’ve run a few times since Boston, longest run being 10 miles last weekend.  My main role in this race is cheerleader, running every step with her.  I’m excited!  I’ve always thought it would be cool to either run a race with someone, pace someone, or lead a pace group…and I think it’s awesome to help someone run their first marathon!

Her half marathon PR is 2:08, so I’m guessing we’ll maybe run around 4:45-ish.  Actually, we’ll run whatever she wants to run, but that’s my best guess for now. 

I cheered at the NJ Marathon in 2009 when I first moved out east, but I think they’ve changed it from a double loop course to a single loop, so it’ll be a little different.  And, of course, this time I’ll be running!  My first marathon is the only one I don’t have a race report for, and I wish I could go back and remember what I was thinking during that race.  For the most part, I’m pretty sure I just had no idea what I was doing, ha.

Now, for you…

Have you run with someone in their first marathon?  Have you ever paced anyone?  Run the NJ Marathon?  I’ll take tips on all three questions!

Also…let me know if you’ll be there!  My bib is going to be pretty awesome for the race, so you should come check it out!

It’s been two weeks since Marathon Monday, and it’s about time I write a race report for it.  Part of me doesn’t want to write it…I was admittedly not happy with my time on that day, but the second those bombs went off, all of that went out the window.  I didn’t care because what was important was that I was safe, that my friends were safe, and that no one close to me was hurt.  It was terrifying to be there, and I still can’t fully shake it.  Reading other people’s accounts over the past two weeks has brought me to tears.  I still can’t fully believe that it happened.

But it was a totally different day up until 2:50pm, and everything that led up to that time is another story to tell.  I read the Boston Globe’s article, "Runners, the marathon does matter," and it really resonated with me.  Yes, we put so much emphasis on race day, but one of my favorite parts about marathon training is the endurance that it takes to even get to the starting line.  The long runs in the cold, the mile repeats where I counted down the seconds until they were over.  And a year ago, I was standing on the sidelines wondering when I’d be able to run again.  If I’d ever be able to run Boston again.

So yes, this marathon does matter, and so does the telling of it.  So, away we go.  And if you’ve ever read any recap I’ve written, you know you’ll be around for a bit…so go to the bathroom, grab a beverage, and pop those feet up…because this is Marathon Monday 2013.

the before

I fell asleep on Sunday night probably around 11:30pm with my belly full of spaghetti and meatballs, and my head wondering how in the world I was going to run a marathon the next day.  I woke up and wondered if I should take cold medicine, but I actually felt a little better.  I did a quick morning routine of brushing my teeth, etc, then made some peanut butter toast for the road.  I figured if I ate my breakfast at 5:45am, I’d be hungry by race time…so save that for the bus.

Amy is the best hostess in the entire world and woke up to drive me to the Common.  We stopped for some Dunkin Donuts coffee on the way, and we made it to the Common by 6:30am.  After a final "good luck!" I hopped out of the car and made my way to the masses of runners waiting to get on buses.  The plan was to meet Celia and ride the bus out with her…I texted her to let her know where I was, and as I was waiting, Alisyn and I did the "I’m pretty sure I know you…" stare and then chatted.  Her fiancé was running and she came with him to the Common…I love running into friends all weekend, and it was great to see her!

Celia appeared and chatted a bit with Alisyn (they’re both SF Ambassadors this year!) before we said goodbye and headed to the buses.  It was a bit chaotic and I couldn’t remember if there were lines, but I was pretty sure you just picked a pack of people to stand by and eventually got on a bus.  We walked down a bit to where the lines seemed shorter and held our ground.  We asked a woman to take a picture of us with the buses in the background, and we did the same for her.  "I’m here by myself so I need someone to take a picture for me," she said.  She asked if it was our first Bostons and we answered (my second, Celia’s first), and she said it was her first.  She asked me if the race is as amazing as everyone says it is…I assured her it is, just wait and see.  We climbed on the buses by 7:15-ish and started our journey to Hopkinton.

Again…with a bus in the background.

I don’t remember what Celia and I talked about…our race goals?  How training has gone?  I have no idea.  I drank my coffee, water, and nuun, and started to eat my peanut butter toast.  After about an hour, we started driving through Hopkinton…a little town outside of Boston that I’m sure is quiet on any other day, but is filled with runners on Marathon Monday.  The houses always look so cute.

We finally pulled into Hopkinton and got off the buses to walk into the runner’s village.  First matter of business was stopping at the bathroom…the lines went pretty quick for the first round, so we moved onto our next step:  the Hopkinton sign.  I didn’t get a picture with it my first time at Boston, so it was definitely time.  We had a moment of silence for the Newton shootings while we waited in line, and the 26th mile of the marathon was dedicated to the 26 people killed in the shootings.  Food for thought for the events that happened later…but back to the now.  We got our pictures which I think were pretty snazzy!

Next up was finding Celia’s friend, who led us to the bathrooms by the baggage buses, which supposedly had shorter lines.  We ended up waiting in line for awhile and by the time we were done, it was time to bag check our stuff and head over to the corrals.  We never ended up sitting around much, which might have been too much time on our feet…I’m not sure what I’m missing as everyone sits around in the morning!  Who knows.

I ditched everything but my throwaway sweatshirt and my "arm warmers" in the form of long socks that I cut the toes off of and wear until I ditch them.  (Thanks to Erika for that secret!)  What they don’t tell you is that the walk to the corral is about 0.7 miles, and it was getting close to start time!  But everyone was headed in the same direction, so we just kept moving along.  We ended up walking with a woman from Orange County who said she was 50…but neither of us believed her because she looked so good!  Celia eventually headed off for one final bathroom stop, so we said our final good lucks and I was on my own.

My bib was 9013, which meant that I was fourteen people off starting in the first wave…so I was in the first corral of the second wave.  They let us into the corral single-file, so it was taking a long time, and I only made it in with about six minutes to go…which ended up being fine because I just get too nervous standing on the starting line.  I stretched a little, retied my shoes (nervous race habit…), coughed a lot (not because of my cold, it’s just another nervous habit…), and ditched my sweatshirt with two minutes to go.  It was already pretty warm, but I kept the arm warmers on.  With one minute to go, I stood at the start of the Boston Marathon with no idea how this race was going to go.  Go out, run steady, run hard, hold on.  I’ve waited a year for this…

the first miles

Everyone says to not go out too fast.  Keep it slow.  I had told myself I’d go out at 7:30′s and see how I feel from there.

All I can say about that is…oops?  Beyond that, when that gun goes off, a race is a race and I want to race.  I had high hopes that maybe, just maybe some race day magic would happen, so I just went with it…and it’s downhill, right?  So my "real’ pace is actually slower, right?  7:05 is like 7:30?  Okay, maybe not.  But I just let my legs go and went with it.  It didn’t feel fast.  I wasn’t breathing hard.  My legs felt good and not like they were pushing.

The first miles have a lot of trees…I remember that.  And someone offering Coronas within the first mile.  The pack was pretty tight, but it was awesome to be right up near the front, look down the hill, and see the front of the wave.  I think I’ll always remember that view.

The beginning miles are always a little bit of a blur as you try to find your spot, figure out what your pace is while everyone around you seems to be flying.  Running was definitely feeling easy, and I dropped my "arm sleeves" after about two miles…it was much warmer than the 30 degree weather I’d be running in for months, so I was left in my tank top and shorts.  As the miles clicked away, two men near me just chatted away like it was an easy day on the run…I wish 7:10 pace was conversational for me, even though my legs felt really good here.

I knew exactly where Amy was going to be in Ashland, so although I’d be running on the right side of the road, I veered over to the left around mile three so I’d see her around mile 3.5.  In doing this, I ended up running behind some guy named Dave…like, right behind him.  He must have had his name on his shirt because everyone was yelling, "Go Dave!  Dave!  Go!" and I got nervous that I’d be right behind him and Amy would miss me…so I quickly ran around him and kept my eyes peeled for the train station that we park at for cheering in Ashland.  Soon enough, I spotted Amy in her bright pink shirt and waved my arms like crazy…I look forward to seeing people I know on the sidelines even for just seconds.

Once I saw Amy, I wasn’t going to know anyone until I saw her again at mile 14-ish, so I tucked in and tried to run a smart race.  Fact is…I never run a smart race.  Ever.  I kept looking at my watch and thinking I should slow down…or maybe I shouldn’t?  Just go with it.  It feels good, miles are clicking off.  The water stops were every mile, so at every other one I’d grab a cup.  I packed my chews in my shorts, so around mile 5 I started taking a couple every now and then.  I actually didn’t train with them at all…I kept saying I’d practice fueling, but then was too lazy to take any with me on my long runs, so I never took fuel or water with me.  I do think it’s one of the problems in my marathon training, but oh well.  Race day is too late to be trying to figure it out…oops.

Energy chews in a plastic bag, safety pinned into my shorts.  FYI.

Around mile 6, my Garmin beeped to tell me it was running out of memory.  So on the run, I deleted old data.  Can’t say I’ve ever had to do that in a race before…ha.

Mile 1-8:  7:27, 7:05, 7:04, 7:07, 7:13, 7:05, 14:23 (7:11 avg)

the late beginning to the middle

Around mile 8, the marathon starts to get a little more real.  I’ve been running for around an hour, and there’s a long way to go.  I remember seeing a lot of charity runners…who ran in packs in the middle of the road.  Clearly they’d started in the first wave, and I specifically remember being annoyed that I had to go around them when they ran four across.  I always thought that the charity runners started in the back of the last wave, but I guess I was wrong…

This might actually be a good race photo…

I’d be lying if I said I remember much else from this part of the race…people yelled my name the entire way.  I remember that.  Seriously, Boston is one giant cheering squad on Marathon Monday and I love it.  Otherwise, I kept telling myself to scale back to 7:30′s, but could never get my legs to do so.  I did get back to around 7:15-ish pace, but I just figured that was a result of the road being a little flatter and therefore not as downhill as the start of the course.  I was definitely still feeling good.

The first "significant" (laughable, probably…) uphill is to get up into Wellesley.  I remember loving this part the first time I ran the race.  My mom was always grateful that neither of her daughters were screamers…I’m not sure I’ve ever screamed in my life.  But oh goodness…those girls in Wellesley scream like only girls can.  I love reading the signs and high fiving girls for the entire stretch in Wellesley.  It’s just part of the Boston experience and definitely helps to pick up the pace.

My favorite part was right after the giant line of girls was over…two girls were holding poster board signs that read, "If you run faster, we’ll drop the signs!"  As you run by, it looks like they don’t have anything on, but behind the signs you can see that they just have shorts and strapless shirts on.  Very clever girls, you made me chuckle.

Miles 9-13:  7:11, 7:18, 7:18, 7:19, 7:17, 7:23
Half marathon split:  1:34:49

the middle to the beginning of the end

I crossed the half marathon part still feeling good and wondering how long this would last for.  The beginning of my marathon training had gone so well, but the last five weeks were a battle between sickness, being tired, and just feeling slow.  I was REALLY excited to be seeing Amy again soon a little after mile 14 in Wellesley Hills.  We always have a good spot to cheer, and I knew I’d see her.  I think around this point was when I started getting mentally tired…I kept thinking I saw the bridge that was near where we usually stand, but then I wouldn’t see Amy.  I couldn’t miss her!  Where was she?  I really want to see her!  Finally about half a mile later, I found her and waved my arms like a crazy person.  I love my spectators.

Things really got mentally tough after this.  I knew the hills start at mile 16, and by mile 15, my legs weren’t feeling so hot and the rest of my body was.  I know the weather could have been so much worse (50′s and sunny?  I’ll take it…), but after running in an everlasting winter, I thought it was pretty warm out.  I started dumping a cup of water down my back at the water stations. 

I also took a bathroom break.  GI system was not in check for the race.

I look really concerned about something…

I also noticed that I was starting to get a little grumpy…people were still cheering for me, but I couldn’t give a wave or smile like I usually like to do.  Someone running near me had their Garmin set to beep constantly (a pace thing or something?), but he had headphones on and I certainly shot him some dirty looks.  (Sorry buddy…)  My pace slowed a little bit, I got mentally tired, and…well.  That was that.

Miles 14-17:  7:19, 7:29, 7:51

it’s a long road to the finish

I’ve run eleven marathons now.  Only one of them has been run with any sort of smart pacing (Big Sur = run with camera = not paying attention to anything = really good pacing), and the rest are usually some sort of speed demon race followed by holding on until the finish.  People see 3:18 as my PR and are then shocked to hear that I walk in races and fall apart at the end.

Oh, and fall apart I did in Boston.  It’s probably the worst I’ve experienced yet.  Anyway.  I had seen Kim at the nuun booth at the expo, and she told me where they’d be.  Naturally, I couldn’t remember if they said they’d be between mile 15 and 16 or 16 and 17.  So at mile 15, I started to get excited about seeing them…if only I could make it to them, then I’d be further along in my race and could concentrate on the next obstacle.  When mile 16 came and went, I just kept thinking, "Where are they?  Did I miss them?  Why didn’t I write down where they’d be?"  My legs weren’t feeling it and I knew it’d be a long way to the finish.

Coming up a hill in mile 17, I spotted the nuun tent at the top of the hill and ran to Kim who I think said something like, "You look great!" and handed me a cup of nuun.  I definitely didn’t feel great and finally took my first walk break…which basically means the rest of the race will be a disaster.  And disaster it was.

I’ve never had my legs give out on me quite like they did in Boston.  I literally couldn’t move faster…I would try to run, it’d be slow, then I’d have to walk.  I had nothing left in my legs, and with nine miles to go…that’s a long way to have legs that aren’t cooperating.  Not finishing wasn’t an option, and it was so rough to watch time pass by.  The hills in Boston aren’t fun.  For some reason, I tell myself they aren’t that bad…and I suppose they might not be if you ran the first half right and had something left for those miles.  I did not and those hills were torture.  Spectators, despite their best intentions, kept saying, "one hill left!" and I knew they weren’t right.  I ran, I shuffled, I walked.  I ate an orange slice someone was handing out.  I was hot.  I dumped water over my back.

Neal says it all:

I tried to keep a good spirit despite my legs hating me…someone had small dixie cups of water, and I grabbed one as I shuffled by.  Noting the small shot glass size, I turned to her and questioned, "This is water, right?"  I’m not so sure my humor was conveyed, but I tried.  And those spectators tried too.  They brought their cheering A-game, but my quads.  Game over.

I made it up and over Heartbreak and hoped that maybe the downhill would help me a little bit.  And it did…my pace dropped a little, but that didn’t last for too long.  I kept eyeing my watch and playing the, "okay, if I run X:XX miles, then I can still do X:XX."  First I wanted to run under 3:25.  Then I saw that slipping away and focused on going under 3:30.  That slipped away too, and I realized how upset I’d be if I didn’t at least BQ…but let me tell you, I wasn’t even sure that would happen.

“I am not having fun.”

I cannot believe how unattractive I am.  You’re welcome.

The last time I ran Boston, I remember thinking that I wish I had my name on my shirt for when I got to the final miles, Boston College especially.  The crowds in those final miles know a thing or two about cheering…not that the rest of the crowds don’t, but I assume they’re assisted by alcohol.  And they yell like crazy.  I was doing my run, shuffle, walk routine around mile 22-ish, and the street was wide and the crowds were deep.  (Deep and wide, deep and wide…there’s a fountain flowing deep and wiiiiiide.  Anyone?  Church songs?  Okay, sorry, back to the race report..)  A big group of college-aged-looking kids starting chanting, "SUSAN!  SUSAN!  SUSAN!  SUSAN!"  I mustered myself to start running again, and they let out a huge cheer…I’ve never heard anyone cheer that loud for me.  My legs felt terrible, but my spirits were lifted.

Sometimes I actually look like I’m running…

These miles dragged on…not surprisingly, feeling good at 7:10 pace makes the miles go much faster than aching quads at 10:00 pace.  I got cheers from the sidelines, but for the most part was in my own little world.  It was by pure luck that I made my way over to the right side of the road around mile 23…right where Maura had the High Five Station.  I was totally oblivious until I heard someone yelling, "Susan Susan Susan!"  and got my high five.  I do love the high five station.

I’m glad I looked better than I thought I did!  After Maura, it was three miles to go.  Three long miles.  A young woman cheering on the sideline looked me in the eye and talked to me like I was standing in front of her, getting final instructions.  "You go, Susan…you so got this.  You’re amazing."  Those words are so helpful if only for a few steps.

I was still shuffling along, and I kept my eyes peeled for people who might be passing me…is Celia rocking it?  What about Katherine?  I think I did see Jess fly by me, looking strong on her way to a PR.

I made it to mile 25-ish.  I started to recognize the final areas.  The underpass I remember that is so quiet.  And quiet it was.  I smiled to myself, thinking about how I couldn’t even run down my block a year ago, but here I was at mile 25 of a marathon.  The Boston Marathon.  Then the Citgo sign.  One mile to go.  My legs didn’t quite register with that, but we moved.  Soon enough, I realized those famous final turns were in front of me.

Sign from the finish line ladies!

We took a right on Hereford.  No walking now, legs.  Next up, a left on Boylston.  I knew Amy was there, I knew I’d pass Christine, Carla, and Leticia.  I knew I probably wouldn’t see them, but all of them saw me.  It’s with tears in my eyes that I imagine what that scene must have looked like an hour after I finished…but I gave that final stretch all my legs would let me give.

Right on Hereford…

Boylston picture compliments of Christine!

Done!!

3:31:54 after I crossed that start line in Hopkinton, I finished my 11th marathon.

Miles 18-26.2:  9:35, 8:52, 9:04, 10:19, 8:36, 9:52, 9:22, 10:38, 9:45, 1:51.  Yikes…

the hobble

 Finish line picture!

My quads weren’t happy with me, that was for sure.  For some reason, walking during a race never seems that bad.  Well, it does, and I don’t necessarily like it, but walking after the marathon is the worst.  I just wanted to sit once I crossed that finish line, but that wasn’t an option.  I grabbed some water, a food bag, a protein bar (never ate it, any takers?), a space blanket (it was so cold/windy in Boston!), and finally…my medal.

I wore a red Sparkly Soul headband for the race.  I think I actually forgot I was wearing, but when I walked up to get my medal, I put my head down for the volunteer to put it around my neck (I love that part).  She congratulated me and said, "I love your sparkles, you need some sparkly shoes to match!  Wizard of Oz style!"  I couldn’t figure out what she was talking about since I forgot about the headband…but I quickly remember.  I laughed and thanked her.

All I wanted to do was sit down for a few minutes.  My legs were not in the mood to walk anymore.  I hobbled over to the baggage buses, and they found my bag quickly.  I put on a long sleeve shirt and made moves to an empty spot in the baggage area to put my pants on…I was so cold!  I looked down at the ground to figure out the best way to sit…this was going to be rough.  A volunteer walked over to me and asked, "What are you trying to do?"  I responded and stated that I was trying to sit down since I wanted to put some pants on.

"Ohhh no, I’m an EMT and I’ve run a few of these before…you’re not sitting down.  You look like you’re on the edge of muscle failure.  Let me know how I can help, but you’re not sitting down."  While I knew he was right and only trying to help, all I wanted to do was sit.  And say, "Well, I’m a nurse and I’ve run eleven of these…and I want to sit." But I listened to him and asked him to hold my shoulders while I put my pants on.

Thank you, volunteers.

Next order of business was the waddle to find Amy…I put my phone on airplane mode for the race since the battery has been draining quickly.  It took a few minutes, but my phone finally got signal and I met up with Amy in the meet up area.  All I wanted to do was sit, so we made our way over to a place to sit down.  And we ran into Kevin, who I’ve only ever seen once before in real life, go twitter.  Finally I sat down and it was glorious.  Yet chilly.

We sat for a few minutes, and I knew I wanted to get somewhere warm…we thought about post-race pictures, getting a picture of the two of us, but for some reason, we never snapped any.  We (okay, I) hobbled over to the parking garage while Amy served as my walking helper, letting me hold her arm while stepping down curbs.  I commented that we were definitely going to get some ice cream that night, as she lives around the corner from J.P. Lick’s.

We walked through the Prudential Center shops on the way to the parking garage on Boylston Street…once we got in the car, I put on my Boston 2013 jacket (I never wear race stuff until the race is over).  And then we tried to leave.  And, well, you all know the rest of the story…

Boston Marathon 2013 Stats

26.2 miles in 3:31:54, avg pace of 8:05

post-race thoughts

As we were trying to leave the parking garage, I attempted to tweet, "Played the ‘hold this fast pace and see what happens’ game and lost.  Can’t say I didn’t try, but it’s a painful game.  Thanks all!  #Boston2013."  I admittedly wasn’t happy with the race.  Not only had I missed any time goal I wanted (still chasing 3:10…or at least a PR?), but I ran a poor race.  I went out too fast, as I always do, the wheels fell off at mile 17.  And they fell off hard.  People hear that I run marathons and go, "That’s amazing!  I could never do that!  Congrats on finishing!"  But to me, it’s not just about finishing.  I wouldn’t subject myself to mile repeats and tempo runs in 14 degree weather if it was about finishing.  I like to race and see how fast I can go.  So yes, I finished, but I missed my goals.  And ran a poor race…who knows if I’ll ever learn.

All that being said, my tweet about my race didn’t go through because we were underground.  The next thing we knew, bombs were going off, and I could have cared less about my time.  I cared that Amy and I were safe, and I wanted to know if everyone else was too.  What was going on.  My time, my poorly executed race, it didn’t matter anymore.  In that moment, I forgot the pain of mile 22.  How ten minute pace is miserable.  Who cares if I finished?  Bomb squads were appearing in front of us.  I’ve never been so scared, and the marathon that I trained for seemed so…unimportant at that moment.

I do think it was important to take some time to think about the marathon.  It’s been two weeks, and a little bit of the sting of those tragic events has been removed.  I still get upset about it, but I can reflect better on the race part of the day without it being as clouded by the bombings.

My friend Katie (from high school, the non-runner…not to be confused with Katie, my friend from high school who I met through running…) sent me an email the afternoon of the marathon.  After expressing concern and thanking me for being fast enough to not be at the finish line during the bombings (ha!), she had some wise words.  Words that I know myself, but sometimes you need someone else to tell you something for you really to remember it.

A year ago, I couldn’t run down the block.  My doctor suggested that maybe in life I would need to scale back my running and take up cross training.  No one had answers, and at some points I wasn’t sure I’d ever run again…or if I did, if the marathon would be an option.  As much as I would have loved to come back from that injury and rock a PR, the real goal here was to run again.  To run a marathon, which is difficult no matter what condition you’re in.  The mental game is so important in the marathon, and I certainly had my doubts.  I doubted my ability to go the distance, my ability to run fast.  Katie reminded me that whenever we start something new, we have our doubts about them.  Training for and running Boston is a lesson to myself…that I can handle marathon training, that I’ll come back stronger with time.  Yes, running is about goals for me and not just completing a race…but this past year has been different, and to even be on the line at Boston this year is something to be proud of.  And to celebrate.

I didn’t run the race I wanted, but I ran a marathon again.  I had poor training at the end and ran the race with a cold.  However, I had some great training early on, hit some awesome paces, and most importantly, was running again.  With no pain.  Every now and then I feel a random twinge in my back and get nervous, but so far, so good.  I know this will lay solid groundwork for future marathons, both physically and mentally.  And I’m excited about what lies ahead.

Now, if someone could just teach me proper pacing…

and, as always…

Thank you to all of you.  Especially Amy, my number one Boston Marathon fan.  It’s been a long road through my back injury and running again.  It really does mean a lot for people to read what I write.  For people to track me.  I thought about all of you with each timing mat.  Texts, tweets, phone calls, emails, comments after the race congratulating me and then asking if I was okay after the bombings.  Some of you I know in real life, some in this crazy internetland, some of you comment, some of you lurk.  No matter who you are, thank you to everyone for your support, and thank you for reading.  Now time to get ready for the next great adventure!

I’m glad these men have been caught and it’s all over, although I think we all know it’s actually far from over.  Still have so many thoughts about what happened less than a week ago, and it’s still not the easiest, but everyone has been coming together and that certainly has helped. 

And, most importantly, I hope everyone is safe and recovering from both the marathon and the events of Monday.

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

But as I said in my last post, there were some really fun times last weekend, and last Sunday was no different!  Amy headed downtown to watch the 5k, while I…slept.  I was so tired and ended up sleeping until around 10:30am.  I do think that the sleep two nights before the race is more important than the night before, so I’m glad I got some solid rest.  I did, however, wake up with my cold at the worst it had been…yellow phlegm and a cough, which made me even more nervous for Marathon Monday.  But at least I got some sleep…

You can’t stray from tradition, and on Sunday before the marathon, Amy and I tend to lay low in her apartment and get ready for Monday.  This basically means that it is arts and crafts day, making signs and tshirts to cheer for the marathon.  It’s a fun, restful, distracting activity that is a lot of fun.  We headed to Target (something I miss in NYC…it’s not the same when you can’t load up a car trunk with everything you bought!) and got some cold medicine and posterboard.  We debated on colors, but we ended up finding a super sparkly, shiny one and we couldn’t pass it up.  We also went to Michael’s for some iron-on letters.  Life is good.

Back at Amy’s apartment, we went to work.  We needed something to match the sparkles on the posterboard, but our first idea of, “Shine bright like a diamond” didn’t seem to fit for a marathon.  Another option included, “A diamond is forever, but this race is only 26.2 miles.”  better, but not perfect.  Finally, we came upon, “You don’t sweat, you sparkle,” which fit perfectly on the sign.

Amy hard at work.

We rearranged the wording and made sure the red/yellow/blue of the letters lined up appropriately.  Chris lives only a few miles from Amy and stopped by for an afternoon chat.  We hydrated, talked about the race, and finished up the sign.  After making sure everyone was tracking everyone, Chris headed off to dinner, and Amy and I got to work on the next project:  t-shirts.

Completed sign!

I wanted to wear my Brooks tank top for the race, but I hadn’t put my name on it yet…and it’s really fun to race with your name on your shirt.  (Just do it, I promise.)  I put “SUSAN” on the front of my shirt and then pinned my bib on…so official, so nervous.

Bib on = go time.

I was happy with how my tank top turned out, but having that bib on there really made me nervous for race day.  Especially with snot coming out of my nose, although the cold medicine was helping.  In other news, Amy bought a pink tshirt to wear on Monday, making it much easier to spot her…and as my PR person, she had to advertise for the blog!  Finished product:

Read susanruns.com!!

All together now…

Amy wore the shirt and took the two signs (“You don’t sweat, you sparkle” in addition to and old favorite, “Smile if you’re not wearing underwear.’”)  A news reporter actually stopped her in Wellesley Hills with the underwear sign and got a picture with the sign and the shirt with my blog address on it…which might have been in the paper, but obviously the events a few hours later erased any stories about signs!

Once signs and shirts were made, we headed out to dinner to carbo-load for Monday.  I needed a few extra carbs for the marathon, and Amy needed some since spectating is hard work!

We headed to bed early (umm…11:30-ish…) after laying out everything for the morning.  Arts and crafts day is always a fun way to relax the day before a big race while preparing for what lays ahead.  Next up…that race recap.  Hopefully.

Favorite race sign?  Do you put your name on the front of your shirt?

While those scary moments of Marathon Monday will probably never leave me, whoever did this to the running community can’t take away the events leading up to it.  All the fun and excitement I experienced throughout the rest of the weekend.  In life, you can do 100 amazing things and then have one bad thing cloud the entire situation, but at the end of the day, you still have 100 good things.  It’s just so easy to focus on the bad instead of the good.

In 2005, I was in London, drying my hair in my hotel room with my mom, when a bus was bombed about a block from our hotel.  My mom heard the blast, but hair dryers are loud so I heard nothing.  We didn’t know what happened and walked outside…people were frantic and we were told that the tube and the bus had been bombed, we couldn’t go back in our hotel, and we didn’t know where was safe.  We didn’t have a cell phone that worked abroad (so 2005…) so we ended up finding an internet cafe to email people.  I think we got something to eat and things settled down a little bit after a few hours.  The most amazing part about that day was how the Londeners moved on.  People were so calm.  We had planned to go to the Tower of London that day, and we called to see if they were still open…they said if you can get here, we’ll be open.  So we walked about an hour to get there.  It was impressive.  You can’t let these events take away from the rest of your life, and despite everything that happened on Monday, the rest of the weekend was amazing.

Boston weekend is amazing, and I will always think that.  So let’s talk about it.

saturday – Runner’s World and expo fun

The morning started off with a T ride to Copley Square for a Runner’s World shakeout run.  I was invited as a blogger and excited to hang out with Katherine!  We met at 7:30am for a short (just over two miles?) run around the Common and the oldest street in Boston.  After that, it was a morning of chatting with runner and eating some breakfast.  I got to talk with Laura and David from the Runner’s World PR team, and it was fun to see the excitement start to build for the weekend.

Next up was lunch with Maura and Bryan at their favorite Thai place in the Prudential.  Always a joy to see them and chat about our travels, running, running, and more running.  I got the scoop on where Maura would be on Marathon Monday, although admittedly the only reason I spotted Maura was because she yelled my name so many times on race day!

Next up…the expo.  It’s like a candy store for runners.  It makes it all a little more real when you pick up that bib and realize that race is coming.  You have in your hands those numbers that make one run different from all the rest.  Everyone is so happy and excited, wishing you a good race and congratulating you for making it there.  And…so much yellow and blue.

9013 in my 2010 jacket…thanks, volunteer!

I happened to run into Katherine just as we were getting to the expo, and there’s nothing like a running nurse…let alone two of us!  It was exciting to share in Katherine’s excitement/nervousness for the weekend…giving her tips from what I remember from 2010, and, more importantly, helping her pick the right shirt size.

ICU nurses…you’re in good hands.

I also happened to run into Mason from nuun at the start of the expo, and he asked how I was feeling…pretty sure I said something along the lines of, “Well, I have a race plan, but that’ll go out the window when that gun goes off…”  He later tweeted this, which just about sums it up:

We continued on throughout the expo, and at the first turn, I spotted Desi Davila.  Earlier in the week, I received a sweatshirt from Brooks that I immediately fell in love with.  Despite warmer temperatures in NYC, I wore it all week.  Upon seeing Desi, I was so happy to take a picture with her and even more excited that we’re on the same team!  Go Brooks!

She’s so little!

We scoped out all of the different vendors, keeping my eye out for cute shirts (I already bought my jacket upon entrance into the expo…but I don’t wear it until the race is over).  I ended up with a “Boston is for Runners” shirt (…might be my new favorite) and a shirt that says, “I don’t chase men…I pass them.”  (My main goal in life, haha.)

Shirt #1 + jacket

Yep.

After a million text messages (cell phone service is bad in the expo area), I finally met up with Ben and walked around with him.  As we wandered, I walked past someone who looked familiar…and who had Picky Bars in front of her.  Most elite athletes have at least someone talking to them, but this one did not.  It looked like Lauren Fleshman, complete with the baby bump, so in my awkward fashion, I walked over and asked, “You’re Lauren, right?”

Answer:  Yep.

I told her I know Meggie (obviously…Picky Bars are involved) and gave her my analogy on pregnancy (hint:  it involves a roller coaster).  We chatted, a video camera showed up, and I nabbed some Picky Bars.  And she wished me luck, which I definitely needed!

We wandered a bit more and found a spot where you could sign your name…Amy works in PR and has been officially deemed my PR agent for when my blog makes it to the big time (bahhahah), so she went to work:

Business cards pending.

No expo is ever complete without a visit to my favorite Nuun Hydration booth.  Luckily I had already run into Mason earlier as he had stepped out, but I spotted Kim (who ran in my van the first year) and Jay (who was a driver).  Always great to see such encouraging familiar faces, catch up, and fill up my bottle with nuun.  Kim reminded me that Boston should always be a celebration of the work it takes to get there, which is something I tend to forget in the training.  It’s an honor to be there no matter what happens on race day.

Nuun:  Hydrating Hopkinton!

Amy and I finally were getting tired from all the walking around, so we decided to head home…but I’ve never actually been to the finish line except at the end of the race, so we headed there to snap some pictures.  Such a different scene a few days later…

Running pose, of course.

I like it.

We headed back to Amy’s apartment and I took a quick nap…soon enough, it was time to get ready for the Runner’s World party that the people at Runner’s World were nice enough to invite me to!  So glad I checked that it was a somewhat dressy event and didn’t show up in my spandex.  It was held at Lucca in the Back Bay and was like nothing I’ve been to before.  Free wine, food (although we ate beforehand), editors and advertisers for Runner’s World, shoe reps, and some famous runners.  A few other bloggers were there, but mainly some really cool people in the running industry!

So cool!

Amy, me, Brittany, Katherine, and Celia

“With” Shalene.

The night flew by as we chatted with each other and Runner’s World friends, and we suddenly realized how late it was!  We attempted to leave, but we spotted Meb on the other side of the room…you can’t leave without talking to Meb and asking about his leg.  And taking a picture, of course.

Hi Meb!

The Runner’s World party was a fun event that I would most likely never be invited to if it wasn’t for this blog/the internet (hooray!), and it was so fun to be a part of the running community as a whole.  The expo is always exciting and it’s so much fun to run into other runners I know…it also makes the whole race seem real and got me nervous and ready to run.

This is getting long and is already full of so much fun, so much of what I love about Boston.  I’ll save Sunday’s (much more low key) events for another day, but I do think it’s important to remember all the good that happened this weekend and how those memories can’t be erased by whoever did this to us on Monday afternoon.

Feel free to share your memories from the expo…picking your bib for the first time, trying on that jacket.

We lined up on a beautiful Boston morning, and the excitement was clear.  Spectators lined the streets, looking for their runners and cheering for everyone else along the way.  The Wellesley girls screamed like only girls can, and the students of Boston College chanted my name louder than I’ve ever heard anyone yell my name before. 

I had taken the race out hard and wasn’t sure when that wall of training would hit, and it hit earlier than I hoped.  We weaved through the final streets of Boston, hit the Citgo sign, and I recognized those famous final turns where you take a right on Hereford and a left on Boylston.  It’s a great finish line.  People know it.  The street is wide, the spectators are packed deep, everyone is screaming, and it’s that final push to the finish.  I was in pain, but so excited to be there, so excited to know that I have spectators somewhere along that street yelling for me, even though I had minimal chance of actually seeing them.

If you’ve ever done a big marathon, you know it takes awhile to get through the finisher area as they hand out water, food, space blankets, and, finally, that medal you just ran for.  You get your bag and try to find your family and friends.  It was cold in Boston, so a volunteer helped me put my pants on, refusing to let me sit down as he saw my legs locking up.

I waddled out to find Amy, and we sat for a few minutes.  It was still chilly, so we didn’t hang around too long as I wanted to get warm.  I commented that we’d definitely be getting ice cream that night.  We walked to the parking garage in the Prudential, right on Boylston St, entering through all the shops there.  As we went underground and walked to the car, I heard an explosion that sounded out of place.  I live by subway construction in NYC and am used to them, but it didn’t seem quite right.  I tried tweeting about how I wasn’t thrilled with my race, but I later found out it it never went through. We drove up to pay to exit, and someone frantically came driving back down, rolled down her window, and told us, “There are bombs going off.  They won’t let you out.  Stay down here.”  The cashier didn’t know anything, so we tried to get out.  Police held us back on the exit, and something was clearly wrong.

Police or hotel security or whoever was there weren’t clear what was going on, but we weren’t allowed to leave.  They told us bombs went off, but didn’t know much else.  No one knew what was going on.  We were most definitely flustered, and we tried to get information out of a security guy who said, “I don’t know.  I’m flustered as well.  Stay here.”  Kim from Nuun was the first person who called me, checking to see if I was okay.  She said two bombs had gone off at the finish line, people were dead, and people lost limbs.

I lost it.  My mom is a teacher, so I tried calling my dad who wasn’t answering his phone.  After multiple attempts, I called my mom, who I’m sure was expecting to hear about the race, but after hearing my voice immediately asked, “What’s wrong??”  I was panicked and crying, wondering if we were safe, if my friends were safe, who was injured, what was going on.  No one knew.  I finally got through to my dad and talked to him, and as I did, my phone went wild with texts and tweets from everyone.  We still had no idea what was going on, but we all wanted to make sure everyone was safe.

As we sat panicked in the car, social media was alive.  Twitter is an amazing resource in times like this, and both facebook and twitter were so helpful in checking on people.  My phone was alive with texts, emails, and facebook messages from both my closest friends and people I haven’t heard from in years.  Although I didn’t personally know a ton of people running Boston this year, I knew that people from my running community, my internet running community even more so, could be out there.  We tweeted about people we hadn’t heard from and kept each other updated if we heard from someone.

As we sat there, we watched from the exit ramp as the police cleared the roads for more police to show up, then cleared the sidewalk of pedestrians.  We watched as the police showed up with large guns.  As the bomb squad came through.  I had packed flip flops for after the race, but I kept my shoes on…thinking I’d need them in case something happened and we needed to run.  The entire time, I kept wondering who I knew out there.  Who was running.  Who was watching.

Finally, they let us leave.  We drove out and sat in traffic, trying to simply get back to Amy’s apartment.  When we got back, we just watched the news report over and over what had happened.  How many people were injured.  This whole thing is unbelievable.  I was supposed to head back to New York on Monday night, but I didn’t feel safe getting on public transportation since they still didn’t know what really was going on.  Luckily, Katherine was driving to NYC on Tuesday, so I caught a ride with her.  I’ve never unpacked my bag so fast when I got home.  I wanted this weekend to be over.

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It’s now Wednesday, and I’ve been spending the afternoon watching the news reports that they have a suspect, that they don’t have a suspect, that a letter with substances has been sent to the White House, that the courthouse in Boston is being evacuated, that they know the skin color of the individual, that they have a name, that they have no idea.  I want to know who did this and have him/her/them held responsible.  And to know why.  But really, the job is done and maybe that’s not important.

On Monday, my running family was attacked.  My family…my parents, siblings, extended family…they obviously come first.  But my running family is certainly a close second.  I’ve been running since I was twelve years old.  I met my first friend in high school on the first day of cross country practice.  My college boyfriend and I got to know each other during runs.  When I moved to New York in 2010, I didn’t know a single person.  Literally, no one.

So what did I do on my first day here?  I found a running group that met in Central Park that night and met random strangers for a run.  I ended up running with the Achilles Team.  I knew that if I wanted to find people who would open their arms to me, who would do something with me on my first night in a new city, I should find the runners.  I anxiously walked up to a group in running shorts, and they welcomed me without second thought.  Runners are a special group of people, and I knew I’d be safe with them, that I’d be okay in this city of eight million people if I met other runners.

It was through twitter and blogging that I know so many people in this city.  That I know so many people across the country.  We have different paces, different goals, but we all run and that holds us together.  I don’t only run with these people…we have dinner, we watch the sun go down over the Hudson.  We cheer each other on at races, we cheer random people on at races.  On the internet, people I’ve never met before comment on my blog and tell me they’re tracking me.  That they’ve been with me through the ups and downs and can’t wait to see how I do.

Once the news broke on Monday, my phone beeped endlessly with text messages, emails, tweets, and Facebook messages to see how I’m doing.  People I haven’t heard from in years.  People who know me as a runner, and one who was excited to be at Boston.  Above being a nurse, above (originally) being from Chicago, I am a runner.  I identify much more as a runner than I do as a nurse, and the fact that people automatically thought to check on me confirms that.  I hold that title high, as the qualities of a long distance runner are, in my biased opinion, some of the best.

Books have been written about the loneliness of the long distance runner.  While those miles can be lonely, on marathon day, you find that they are anything but.  On marathon morning, I talked to random people I’d never met before and will probably never see again.  We talked about it being one woman’s first Boston, and she asked if it is as worth it as everyone says it is.  I reassured her how amazing the race is…just wait.

Boston has so much history for runners.  It means a lot.  In a sport that opens its arms to everyone, the Boston Marathon brings together some of the best.  I like to think that I don’t have a big head, but Boston is special in that regard.  When you line up on that starting line, it’s very humbling to realize that everyone in front of you is faster than you.  By the numbers.  The numbers don’t lie.  Boston is my version of the Olympics.  The Olympics that I never stand a chance of winning, but I earned my right to be there, and I know everyone shaking their legs out around me did too.

And then the gun goes off.  Let’s just say that for 26.2 miles, you are anything but lonely.  The streets of Boston are lined like no other marathon I’ve ever run.  You are never alone, and if you put that name on the front of your shirt, your name will be yelled for hours.  Amy has watched the marathon for four years in a row, half of which I ran.  I know where she’s going to cheer.  Others told me what miles they’d be at, and it pulls me through the miles knowing where to look for them.  My dad flew to Boston in 2010 to watch me run.  Without these spectators, Boston wouldn’t be half of what it is.

And that finish on Boylston Street.  I haven’t run every marathon, but I feel strongly enough to say it’s one of the most exciting finishes.  I’ve tried to watch there before, but it’s four people deep and I’m not tall enough to see anything.  If you want a viewing spot, you need to stake it out early.  You’re committed.  There’s something special about watching people in that final push in one of the greatest marathons, and people want to be there.

I think the scariest part about being there, beyond not knowing what was going on and where was safe, was thinking about who could be out there.  I had thought less time had passed than actually did, and I thought that someone I knew could be out there.  It’s a race of fast people, but who was having a bad day?  It’s a marathon, there’s a lot of room for something to go wrong.  Who went back out to look for friends?  Who just wanted a glimpse of people finishing?  Who came to cheer and was planning on staying until the end?

If the bombs went off an hour earlier, that could have been me.  At any given time on Monday, it could have been people I know.  But whether I know people injured or not, my runner family was attacked.  We all shared the same struggles, some of those spectators probably yelled my name that afternoon.  Running is something so innocent, so positive.  Something I go to on my best of days to celebrate and my worst of days to pound the pavement.  To have that world rocked is unimaginable.

The running community, the runner family, is a great one.  I know we’ll run strong and that we won’t be deterred.  Runners will still run Boston, and spectators will still cheer at Boston.  As a runner, as a nurse, my heart breaks for those injured, for those killed from this event.  An amazing event was ruined on Monday, but it will not be the end of it.

As runners, as spectators, as a running family, we are strong.  We are strong in that final 0.2, and we will be after as well.

Boston 2013 is a year I will never forget.  But Boston is for runners, and it always will be. 

After reading my post from yesterday about my goals for Boston and talking to people about the race in general, I realize how…unexcited I seem for the weekend.  I am most definitely nervous for the weekend and for how the race will go.  I don’t have the confidence to attempt the goals I’ve set before me, and although I’m racing no one other than myself (Kara and Shalene will be about an hour ahead of me…), reaching those goals are important to me.

But…it’s not necessarily all about the clock.  I mean, let’s be honest…it mostly is.  But I was trying to explain to someone yesterday what I want when I say I want to run a “good” race.  Of course my judgment is clouded by the time on clock, but I also want to run a smart race, to feel good both physically and mentally.  Feeling strong like this will hopefully result in a good time on the clock…hopefully PR-worthy.

After taking yesterday off due to still feeling sick, I woke up this morning feeling a little bit better.  My plan all week was to do some final marathon pace miles to remind my legs what that feels like and that it’s not all that fast.  We’re not doing 10k pace here. 

I put on shorts and my Twin Cities Marathon long sleeve shirt and headed downstairs, where I realized that it was raining.  I don’t bother going back upstairs to grab a hat (my best running tip:  wear a hat/visor in the rain, keep the rain out of your eyes!) and instead headed outside.  It was more than a drizzle, so I didn’t feel like waiting for signal on my Garmin in the cold rain.  I took off toward Engineer’s Gate for a warm-up mile, around eight minute pace.

By the time I got to Engineer’s Gate, the rain was really coming down.  I’m already soaked.  My Garmin still doesn’t have signal.  So I stop, push some buttons, and wait as the signal bar fills up.  I’m soaking wet, a few runners pass by and we give each other the nod of “we’re all crazy, but we’re all crazy together.”  Standing in the pouring rain, waiting for signal, brought me back to why I do all of this.

This time last year, as I was in a car approaching Boston, I almost cried because I couldn’t run.  Dropping out of Boston due to a back injury that seemed to have no end in sight was so difficult last year, and despite the soaring heat, I still wanted nothing more than to be out running from Hopkinton to Boylston. 

The Boston Marathon brings together everything I love.  Above anything else, I love to run.  I love to run off a hard shift at work, I love running as a social hour with friends.  I love breathing hard while dropping mile repeats, and I love dripping sweat on a hot summer run.  I love the camaraderie of everyone who trains outside all winter, bundled up against the cold.  I love the black hole that is my brain while I run, where I can run for hours and not realize the miles that have flown by.

I love the marathon.  It’s a hard, long distance that requires months of training and commitment.  Even with all of that, you never know what will happen on race day.  I won’t be all high and mighty and claim that marathoners are special…anyone can run a marathon.  But the people who train hard to shave minutes…seconds off their last time.  People who chase that BQ.  You don’t have to be fast or Boston qualified to know what I’m talking about.  It’s just that mentality of a runner who sets goals and times for herself works hard to go after them.  Boston is a special race, and I’m lucky to be a part of it.

When training started to head south a few weeks ago, I never once thought about throwing in my shoes and not heading to the start line.  The marathon is a long road with many ups and downs (mostly downs in Boston…hopefully with a tailwind, please?), and it’s all part of the game.  As I stood at Engineer’s Gate in the pouring rain waiting for signal on my watch, I remembered that I’d rather be out there in the pouring, soaking rain attempting to chase my dreams than throwing in the towel.

I took off and my legs didn’t feel like lead.  I didn’t look at my watch and just went by feel.  In typical “I run everything too fast” fashion, my three miles at “marathon pace” were at 7:05 average.  There were times when rain drops landed in my eye, my legs got red from the cold, and everything I wore was sticking to me.  But…my legs turned over, my hip flexor didn’t bother me at all, and I loved every single wet step.

I cooled down back to my apartment for a mile, and passed by some giant puddles.  The best part about a rain run is that since you’re already soaked from head to toe, nothing really matters.  So when you come to a giant puddle, you better jump in with two feet.  And so I did.

And that’s the same thing I’ll do on Monday.  I’m not suddenly changing my plan to now go out at 7:05 pace.  It’ll still be 7:30 pace (which, let’s be honest, means 7:20-7:25-ish, I know myself).  I know 7:30 pace isn’t that fast, and it’s certainly something I can maintain.  I just need to believe in that.

I came home, immediately took a hot shower, and reread my race report from Boston in 2010.  You know, that race that I was so excited to run because it was my first Boston.  The one that took me three marathons to quality for.  The one I wasn’t sure I’d be able to run because my IT band was acting up and I hadn’t run more than four miles at a time for a few weeks leading up to it.  But I ran without bending my right leg for about twenty miles, and I made it…in 3:46, a respectable time.

There are many parts about that race that I remember.  My favorite, favorite part of that race was around mile 25-ish when you head under a small underpass.  A man running near me said, “This is my favorite part…savor the silence.”  In the midst of all the cheers of those last few miles (Boston does it right, let me tell you), that underpass was so quiet.  Honestly, I might not have noticed had he not said something, but you better believe I’ll be looking for that bridge this time around.

So really…I am excited for Boston.  I’m excited to see Amy, who tells me year after year that she loves Marathon Monday and lets me crash her apartment and puts up with me dragging to her endless running related events.  I’m excited to see runner friends from across the country and meet bloggers who I’ve been reading about.  But most of all, I’m excited to run.  After Twin Cities, I said I couldn’t wait to race again.  This is finally my chance to that, and whatever happens on Monday, I know I’ll give it my all.

I’ll stop referencing my back problems at some point, but being out for nearly six months last year was rough.  Coming back and starting from scratch made me realize why people don’t stick with running.  Slowly but surely, my endurance and speed came back.  I appreciate each and every one of you who stuck around through the times when all I had to say was “my back hurts…still.”  Everyone who asked about it, who cheered when I ran those first pain-free miles.  Who told me I’d get “it” back.

Because you all were right.  I did get it back, and I’m ready to let it go on Monday.  Many people have already mentioned that they’ve signed up to track me, and although I know that I’m the only who can physically move my legs on Monday, I’ll be thinking of everyone with every timing mat.  Sharing my running life and races with all of you makes it that much more special for me, and I appreciate everyone sticking with me and having confidence in me when I don’t have it in myself.

So, I’m excited for this weekend and I’m excited for Marathon Monday.  Last year, I stated that I love Marathon Monday more than Christmas, and it still holds true.  So bring it, Santa Boston, because I’ll sure be bringing it on my end.

See you in Hopkinton…Ashland…Wellesley…Newton…right on Hereford, left on Boylston.  We got this.  I got this.  Let’s do this.

Therefore, time has been flying and Boston is on Monday.  Four days away.  It’s a bit baffling because it seemed like it was so far off, and now it’s here…so I guess it’s time to talk about it. 

Start line in Hopkinton…

mentally

To say I’m nervous for this marathon would be an understatement.  It’ll be my first marathon in a year and a half.  (Last being NYC 2011.)  My first marathon back post-back injury.  I started running again from scratch after I got back from Africa in October, so I built up a base from there before I started “real” training in January.

I’ve had some great training runs which gave me great mental boosts, but the last five-ish weeks of training have left much to be desired.  The half marathon in March, while it was a PR, didn’t give me much mental confidence because my head wasn’t in it for most of it.  The marathon is a long way to go, and I’m worried about not being mentally prepared.  For both of my twenty milers (was going to do three, but canceled the last one since I was sick), I listened to music/podcasts.  I never do this, but I needed distraction to get through the miles.  Not sure why this is happening.

physically

I don’t feel like I’ve been running well for weeks.  WEEKS.  The last solid workout I seemed to have was the first week in March (!!), and even then I bailed with one mile to go in the workout part.  I ran a half marathon in March and fell apart and can’t say I’ve run well since.  Combine that with an ongoing cold (maybe allergies now?)…it’s hard to run well when you don’t feel great.

Sometimes I feel better and I head out for a run, but my legs feel like lead.  The watch doesn’t lie, and my times don’t look that bad.  I have plenty of sub-8 paces that look nice on paper, but when I consider the effort that I put in, I’m not that thrilled about it.  Eight minute pace should feel easy, not like lead.

That being said, I did have some awesome workouts and long runs, so it’s not like I didn’t train.  I’ve just been tapering for about five weeks…gah.

the plan

Get it together mentally.  When I was coming back from injury and still had thoughts of running NYC last fall, someone told me, “You don’t run a marathon on the last four months of training, you do it on the last four years of training.”  Whether that’s actually true or not, I’ve been doing this running thing for awhile.  This will be my 11th marathon.  I know it’s been awhile since I’ve raced, but it should come back to me.  I hope.  And the excitement of race weekend and race day should bring me right back to where I need to be.

Run a smart race.  Despite having big plans for a race, I usually throw them out the window and just go once I cross the start line.  I don’t currently have the confidence to do that…I felt amazing and ready to run before Twin Cities (my last goal race), but I don’t feel like that at all right now.  I think sticking to a plan might be better. 

As of right now, I’d like to go out at 7:30 pace.  Maybe I should bump that back to 7:40…we’ll see how I feel on race day.  My cold seems to have gotten worse, so hoping it goes away on race day.  Anyway, I usually go out fast and try to hold on.  So maybe going out easier-ish will be better in the long run.  I’ve never raced that way soooo it might work.  It might be a disaster.  I’ve done several long runs at 7:35-ish pace and felt like I could run forever.  (See also:  this might be why my training fell apart.  Long runs too fast!)

So basically, go out at a slower-ish pace (not that 7:30 is slow by any means…), and hope to be able to pick up the pace later.  It makes me nervous to run like this, but I guess we’ll see.

the goals

If you had asked me about six weeks ago, I would have told you that I’d be going after that 3:10 goal.  I hit great workouts and confidence boosting long runs.  I’m not feeling that right now.  Instead, I’m questioning my ability to even run the full 26.2 distance.  I would break down my goals for you, but I’m not really sure what they are.

Of course, I would love to PR.  If I go out at 7:30 pace and hold that, then it’ll be a PR as my current PR pace is 7:35.  But I have no idea what will happen come race day.  I definitely don’t think that 3:10 will happen this time around.

So basically, my goal is to run a smart race.  And hopefully not die.  (Not literally…moreso, not fall apart at the end.)

tracking

What’s that?  You want to track the disaster as it unfolds on Monday?  Text RUNNER to 345678, then respond with my bib number, 9013:

Based on the past few weeks, you all have more confidence in my running than I do, so it’ll mean a lot to have you track me.  If you don’t want text updates, I’m pretty sure you can track online on Monday.  (Who needs to work??)

plans for the weekend

Boston weekend is my favorite weekend of the year…I love running more than just about anything, and the weekend brings runners from all over the country, whether they’re running or watching.  In my opinion, the weekend has a bit more excitement than other marathons.  I know I was excited for my first Boston since it took three marathons to qualify, and I think that’s what people feel.  It is a special race for many runners, and I love being a part of it whether I’m running or not.

So anyway, if you’re in Boston, let me know!  I’ll be attending a Runner’s World shakeout run on Saturday morning, as well as a party on Saturday night.  Probably hitting the expo on Saturday afternoon-ish where my credit card might die.  Watching the 5k on Sunday morning, followed by arts and crafts in the afternoon.  I’m staying with Amy for the fourth year running, and it wouldn’t be Boston weekend if we didn’t get crafty.

Let me know what you’re up to if you’re in town…I’d love to meet you!

Are you running Boston?  First time?  26th time?  Tell me your bib number and your goal time (if you’re brave!).  Especially let me know if you’re in my corral or wave!

And it’s Friday!  And I don’t have to work until Sunday night, so high fives for that.  Let’s get on with this Five for Friday business.

SPRING IS HERE!  SPRING IS HERE!

I could do the entire five this week by saying how excited I am that spring is here.  It’s sixty degrees and sunny, and for the first time in months, I actually felt sweaty after my run today.  There may have been a line of salt on my face.  (And I didn’t even run that far!)  Thank you, spring, I have been longing for you for far too long.

I will state that I have no idea why people are running in full on tights and long sleeves.  Someone was even wearing a winter hat and mittens!  Who are these people?  They certainly weren’t out when it was 15 degrees…

i have a new favorite nuun flavor

I’ve been a strawberry lemonade nuun girl for awhile.  Last year at Hood to Coast, we got a sneak sample of some new flavors.  I know Lauren was super excited for the arrival of watermelon nuun (I believe is the founding member of Team Watermelon), but I’m always up to try something new.  I remember thinking it was good, but not being OMG AMAZED back in August.

Tides have turned, everyone.  I ordered some (okay, a lot) of nuun when the new flavors came out and have been chugging along on the new lemonade flavor.  After my run today, I decided to break out the watermelon since it reminds me of warmer weather.  (Okay, not that lemonade doesn’t…)  Nuun, you are a genius.  Watermelon is officially at the top of my list.

Side note:  Want to try the new nuun flavors?  You can get a special summer sampler of the new cherry limeade, lemonade, and watermelon flavors here.  Do it!

running almost feels normal again

I don’t think I’ve had a good week of running in about a month.  I felt sick for about two weeks, then just kind of run down/exhausted.  And work has been crazy busy.  (And when nursing is busy, it’s very physically exhausting too!)  Eight minute miles have felt like a drag, which is a little rough.  And my hip/groin (the same spot the precipitated the back pain last year, yikes!) has been acting up, so I’ve been extra careful.

I took two days off (well “off” in the sense that I didn’t run, I worked like crazy instead…) to give my hip a rest and tried some yoga in the comfort of my apartment.  Yesterday, I took it out for a run and took it easy…and it felt about 90% better.

Today I wanted to do some marathon pace work since I haven’t seen speed since the half marathon.  I wanted to see if my legs could actually move.  (Fine…I know I ran 7:10’s last weekend.  That wasn’t on purpose.)  So I set out for five miles…mile warm up, three at marathon pace, one cool down.

I’ll get into my marathon plan next week, but absolute fastest goal pace should be 7:15.  I ran these three miles at 7:00 and it didn’t feel that fast.  Given the fact that I haven’t really moved like that in a few weeks, I figured it’d feel like death.  But seven minute pace isn’t shabby and I’ll take it for now.  Just not on marathon day, but more on that later.

It felt good to sweat and although my legs still felt a little like lead, it was nice for them to turnover without me wanting to die.  I love being dramatic.

i paid my grad school deposit!

I guess this should read, “I officially accepted my grad school offer,” but the truth is no one really cares if you accept or not unless they have your money.  I’m now officially $500 poorer, but will soon be academically richer.  (See what I did there?)

In other news, I’ll be in DC for a couple days in August for orientation.  If you live in DC, let me know!  We’ll run the monuments.  (Please?)

Just so you know, in three years I’ll be singing, “No more bedpans, no more books, no more doctor’s dirty looks!”  Suddenly 2016 sounds so far away…

ten days til marathon monday

You don’t what isn’t far away?  This guy:

Ten days until my favorite day of the year….Marathon Monday!  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified to be running my first marathon back from injury, and my first marathon in a year and a half.  But, I love marathon weekend, I get to see Amy (hostess with the mostest), drink some Harpoon, and put myself to the test.  And you better believe I’ve been eying that weather forecast…

Have you tried watermelon nuun?  Are you running Boston?  Are you cheering at Boston?  Is it spring where you are or did you get snow today?