Six Years. I am well into my sixth year of running. Working out. Trying to stay fit, eat clean and live a healthy lifestyle. It has been six years of struggles, triumphs and plateaus. Although I have adopted this lifestyle permanently, it still is a deliberate effort on my part to make it happen on a daily basis.
There are many facts I have found to be consistent over time. One that stands out is that there are constantly people and things that will hinder my progress and try to sabatage my goals. Some of them are avoidable. Others...not so much. However, I have also found that when I fight, when I rise above those obstacles, I am better off. Not only in the physical sense, but mentally as well. I develop a toughness...a strength...an endurance that enables me to get up. Every single time I'm knocked down. Sometimes, it takes me a little bit longer to get up. But, man, I will rise. I will get up. Every time.
Running. Fitness. Strength Training. Lifting. Working out. Cross training. Clean living. I don't care what you call it. It works for me. It's not been a fluke. I've worked long and I've worked hard to get wear I am. Down 128 pounds and 10 sizes. That took work. It takes work. I've kept it off.
I am running in my 5th half marathon this spring for a charity I love, Genre's Kids With Cancer Fund. I ran my first full marathon a little over 2 years ago, the Marine Corps Marathon. I was hoping to run Pittsburgh's full marathon this year, but due to circumstances beyond my control, I made the decision to drop down to the half a couple of weeks ago. Tough to swallow, but my attention was needed elsewhere. I will hopefully still run the full in the City of Bridges one day.
I live this lifestyle because I have never felt better my entire life. I simply feel better. However, I run, lift and train for many other reasons as well. This week was a challenging week at school. I broke up a fight between 2 students. Pretty intense and fierce. As soon as it went down, I moved as fast as I could. That morning I woke up with a migraine. Ten minutes before the fight went down, I fell on the stairs...HARD...on my knee and leg...and was sitting at my desk reviewing a lesson... nursing the pain from my knee and leg. Not only did I race to the altercation and break up the fight, I physically restrained the one boy until backup arrived. He was taller than me and weighed more than I do. Muscles? Yeah. Bigger than mine. And let's talk about his adrenaline. Fortunately, it only lasted a few minutes, even though it seemed like forever. And, fortunately, I have a good relationship with him and he responded well to me. The whole time I was trying break up the fight, and then restrain him, I kept thinking, "Crap! I haven't lifted in 2 weeks. I'm so weak. I'm not on top of my game." That may seem silly or funny, but really? It's not. In today's world, whether it be in the schools or work place or the mall or anywhere else...you need to be on top of your game.
I love what I do. I love who I am. I fall down. I get up. I am a work in progress. I have said it a thousand times before. The older I get, the more I realize how screwed up I am. But, also, the older I get, the more and more I realize who I am. What I want and what I don't want. Life is a process and full of challenges. You have to look life square in the eye and move through it. Sometimes a day at a time. Sometimes a moment at a time. No one said life was going to be easy. It's not.
Last night, as I was running, I was thinking about how grateful I was for The Run. It has afforded me the opportunity to Think. To Breathe. To Hope. To Dream. To challenge myself in ways I never thought possible. To achieve goals I never thought were attainable. To Live. To Raise My Game.
Saturday, February 21, 2015
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
GET UP
Fall down. Get back up. Fall down. Get back up. Fall down. Get back up. The cycle. I know very few people in life who are on a constant high. Who ride the waves of life where everything is grand all the time. Well. Sometimes it seems like there are people all around who have it smooth sailing.
Life is beyond challenging. Life is hard. That is life. No one said life was going to be easy. And one must ride the waves. Up and down. Up and down. Really, what choice do you have? There are days. Everything is spinning out of control. Everything. Anything and everything not nailed down. And, sometimes, those days turn into months. Months turn into years. And life seems to settle into this uncomfortable muck that you're stuck in...that you can't get out of...that you find yourself trapped in...and all too often, we don't...or can't, find a way to fight our way out...or back to the simple joys that once were our normal...or what we once thought was our normal.
But, there are some things that are constant in life. There are so many things in life worth fighting for...be a fighter...be a warrior. I don't mean that in the bad sense. It's hard because there's so much stress and tension and frustration and anger in the world and in people's lives these days. So much anger comes from frustration and a feeling of hopelessness. People put up walls and masks and go about their days because they are tired and weary. And life goes on.
But. Still.
You. Must. Fight.
Get Up.
Get Up.
Surround yourself with those individuals that lift you up. Surround yourself with those things that bring you purpose and joy. Surround yourself with a Purpose greater than yourself.
And Get Up.
We all have obstacles. Daily. Hourly. Some days are harder than others. Some days. Just. Don't. Work.
It's Ok.
But. Then.
Get Up.
I have been struggling for well over 8 months with a torn rotator cuff in my right shoulder. I've had my share of challenges over the last several years (more since I've turned 50! WHAT!), however, they really are mild in comparison to others. I am extremely grateful for my health and the ability I have to move my body and to not only exercise, but do something I love, run.
Since my tear is only a partial tear and not a complete tear, surgery was never considered an option. Physical therapy was the way to go, and I fully participated in months of PT, finishing up about 2 months ago. The PT worked well for quite sometime. It was hard work. It was painful. However, I was focused on healing my shoulder. I always had indescribable neck pain along with the shoulder pain...really, more painful than the shoulder. On a pain scale of 1-10 with 10 being the most painful, I was at an 8 most days. Chronic pain.
The shoulder started to get better...the neck...not so much. I persisted in my exercises and physical therapy. I knew the rehabilitation would be long and painful. I was up for the task. About a month before my PT ended, for some reason, things started going the opposite direction and my pain began worsening again. I was in great distress.
All along I was still running. Mainly on the weekends. Not much, but enough to maintain my fitness during the school year. However, about a month ago the pain was such that I could not run. Aside from the shoulder/neck pain, I have never been in better shape...except when I trained for the marathon 2 years ago. I have never been healthier. Frustration.
I was determined to do whatever I needed to do to fully heal my shoulder and get back on track with my fitness and running schedule. I just feel better when I take care of myself. Every spring, for the past 4 years, I have run Pittsburgh's Half Marathon, for my favorite charity, Genre's Kids. I decided sometime ago, since I was healthy and strong, that this next spring I would run the full marathon. But, I needed to heal my shoulder first. I had plenty of time. My physical therapist believed my shoulder was just inflamed and suggested I take some time off. No exercises, no running. Ugh. Ok.
It killed me to do it, but I had a long term goal. So, I rested the shoulder for 3 weeks. No exercises. No running. I walked. And I walked. I tried to walk 3 miles in the morning and 3 miles at night. I did eventually add in my strengthening/PT exercises for my shoulder, arms, neck and back along with my regular strength exercises.
I went out yesterday and ran a little bit. I'm not going to push it. I still have some pain. I don't have to start my formal training for the marathon until December. My goal in the next 4 months is to slowly continue to fully heal my shoulder and to build strength and endurance to prepare my body to start training. I feel healthy. I feel strong. I have a goal and I am grateful.
For the most part, I am a driven, motivated person. Especially the past 5 years. In the same regard, I have faced many challenges. Especially the past 5 years. Good days. Bad days. I still come back to the same two words.
Get Up.
Life is beyond challenging. Life is hard. That is life. No one said life was going to be easy. And one must ride the waves. Up and down. Up and down. Really, what choice do you have? There are days. Everything is spinning out of control. Everything. Anything and everything not nailed down. And, sometimes, those days turn into months. Months turn into years. And life seems to settle into this uncomfortable muck that you're stuck in...that you can't get out of...that you find yourself trapped in...and all too often, we don't...or can't, find a way to fight our way out...or back to the simple joys that once were our normal...or what we once thought was our normal.
But, there are some things that are constant in life. There are so many things in life worth fighting for...be a fighter...be a warrior. I don't mean that in the bad sense. It's hard because there's so much stress and tension and frustration and anger in the world and in people's lives these days. So much anger comes from frustration and a feeling of hopelessness. People put up walls and masks and go about their days because they are tired and weary. And life goes on.
But. Still.
You. Must. Fight.
Get Up.
Get Up.
Surround yourself with those individuals that lift you up. Surround yourself with those things that bring you purpose and joy. Surround yourself with a Purpose greater than yourself.
And Get Up.
We all have obstacles. Daily. Hourly. Some days are harder than others. Some days. Just. Don't. Work.
It's Ok.
But. Then.
Get Up.
I have been struggling for well over 8 months with a torn rotator cuff in my right shoulder. I've had my share of challenges over the last several years (more since I've turned 50! WHAT!), however, they really are mild in comparison to others. I am extremely grateful for my health and the ability I have to move my body and to not only exercise, but do something I love, run.
Since my tear is only a partial tear and not a complete tear, surgery was never considered an option. Physical therapy was the way to go, and I fully participated in months of PT, finishing up about 2 months ago. The PT worked well for quite sometime. It was hard work. It was painful. However, I was focused on healing my shoulder. I always had indescribable neck pain along with the shoulder pain...really, more painful than the shoulder. On a pain scale of 1-10 with 10 being the most painful, I was at an 8 most days. Chronic pain.
The shoulder started to get better...the neck...not so much. I persisted in my exercises and physical therapy. I knew the rehabilitation would be long and painful. I was up for the task. About a month before my PT ended, for some reason, things started going the opposite direction and my pain began worsening again. I was in great distress.
All along I was still running. Mainly on the weekends. Not much, but enough to maintain my fitness during the school year. However, about a month ago the pain was such that I could not run. Aside from the shoulder/neck pain, I have never been in better shape...except when I trained for the marathon 2 years ago. I have never been healthier. Frustration.
I was determined to do whatever I needed to do to fully heal my shoulder and get back on track with my fitness and running schedule. I just feel better when I take care of myself. Every spring, for the past 4 years, I have run Pittsburgh's Half Marathon, for my favorite charity, Genre's Kids. I decided sometime ago, since I was healthy and strong, that this next spring I would run the full marathon. But, I needed to heal my shoulder first. I had plenty of time. My physical therapist believed my shoulder was just inflamed and suggested I take some time off. No exercises, no running. Ugh. Ok.
It killed me to do it, but I had a long term goal. So, I rested the shoulder for 3 weeks. No exercises. No running. I walked. And I walked. I tried to walk 3 miles in the morning and 3 miles at night. I did eventually add in my strengthening/PT exercises for my shoulder, arms, neck and back along with my regular strength exercises.
I went out yesterday and ran a little bit. I'm not going to push it. I still have some pain. I don't have to start my formal training for the marathon until December. My goal in the next 4 months is to slowly continue to fully heal my shoulder and to build strength and endurance to prepare my body to start training. I feel healthy. I feel strong. I have a goal and I am grateful.
For the most part, I am a driven, motivated person. Especially the past 5 years. In the same regard, I have faced many challenges. Especially the past 5 years. Good days. Bad days. I still come back to the same two words.
Get Up.
Sunday, April 27, 2014
LOVE ME AGAIN
Today I ran a taper run of 6 miles. The miles were solid. Strong. My endurance was steady and my stamina was surprisingly on target considering some health challenges I've been facing. As I ran, I picked up strength. Power. Endurance. Stamina. Motivation. Determination. Honestly, there was a power and grit in those 6 miles that I haven't felt in a long time. I've hit and gone below the goal weight I've wanted to reach a week before game day. Lighter runners are more efficient runners.
Every runner experiences it. A love/hate relationship with running. When you run and things are going well, then all's right with the world. When you are running and you are facing challenges? Well, let's just say that you face many demons along the way. Taunting you. In 5 years of running I have gone toe to toe with more than a few demons. Anyone who knows me knows I'm a fighter and I have fought those demons. All the way.
As I was running today, I was listening to one of the songs on my playlist, "Love Me Again" by John Newman. I was listening to the words of the song and I was thinking of the love/hate relationship runners often have with the run. I relate a lot of things to running. If you have a problem, a challenge, something taunting you to back off of running or a health issue preventing you from running...the run is almost asking, "Can You Love Me Again?" I always tell people I have found with running you either love it or hate it. There's no in between.
I've had a few tough challenges along the way, just like all runners. Every year, I say I'm not going to do another half marathon. But, every year I do. I am drawn to the long distance runs. I have learned so much about myself since becoming a runner. As a runner, I am definitely a lone wolf. I have gone places on the runs...physically...mentally...emotionally that I never thought I could go. You figure out a lot of things when you're running hundreds of miles. You find strength you never knew you had. There are times I swear I'm not going to do a long distance race again...times I think I am such a fool...think I'm crazy...but then, the run. It calls me. It calls me back. "Can you love me again?"
The Run. It gives me something that nothing or noone can match. And it asks for nothing in return.
John Newman - Love Me Again.
Every runner experiences it. A love/hate relationship with running. When you run and things are going well, then all's right with the world. When you are running and you are facing challenges? Well, let's just say that you face many demons along the way. Taunting you. In 5 years of running I have gone toe to toe with more than a few demons. Anyone who knows me knows I'm a fighter and I have fought those demons. All the way.
As I was running today, I was listening to one of the songs on my playlist, "Love Me Again" by John Newman. I was listening to the words of the song and I was thinking of the love/hate relationship runners often have with the run. I relate a lot of things to running. If you have a problem, a challenge, something taunting you to back off of running or a health issue preventing you from running...the run is almost asking, "Can You Love Me Again?" I always tell people I have found with running you either love it or hate it. There's no in between.
I've had a few tough challenges along the way, just like all runners. Every year, I say I'm not going to do another half marathon. But, every year I do. I am drawn to the long distance runs. I have learned so much about myself since becoming a runner. As a runner, I am definitely a lone wolf. I have gone places on the runs...physically...mentally...emotionally that I never thought I could go. You figure out a lot of things when you're running hundreds of miles. You find strength you never knew you had. There are times I swear I'm not going to do a long distance race again...times I think I am such a fool...think I'm crazy...but then, the run. It calls me. It calls me back. "Can you love me again?"
The Run. It gives me something that nothing or noone can match. And it asks for nothing in return.
John Newman - Love Me Again.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
FREEDOM
It's been 5 years. I don't remember the exact date, but I started my journey to health sometime in 2009 and it is now 2014. It took me 2 years to slowly drop 105 pounds. I dropped 8 sizes. I've kept the weight off. I went from not exercising at all to running a full marathon. I went from hating...and I do mean hating... exercising to become a woman who adores exercising. Running. Lifting. Cross training. Freedom.
I have become liberated in so many ways in the past 5 years. When I made the choice to become healthy, I dropped the chains that were holding me back for so long. The chains that were holding me back for decades, really. With all the extra restrictions that being unhealthy placed on me, I never knew how great I could really feel. How free I could feel.
Running. I love the run. I am free when I run. I have overcome many obstacles in the past 5 years as I continue to pursue my love of the run... Epilepsy being one of the main ones. I am in my own world when I run and I clearly am a lone wolf. I own my runs and no one and nothing can take that from me. Since discovering running, I have rediscovered myself. Someone I lost a very long time ago.
I have not blogged in almost a year. I ran the Marine Corps Marathon in October of 2012. I blogged in April 2013 before last year's half. A lot has happened since then. I have gone back to work, teaching nearly full time. I am helping my mother who was diagnosed with cancer in September. Many weekends, in addition to trying to catch up with things at my own home, I am at her home, helping her.
This will be my 4th year running in Pittsburgh's Half Marathon. I run for the charity Genre's Kids With Cancer Fund. It is a wonderful organization that helps to raise money for children in the Pittsburgh area who have been diagnosed with pediatric cancer and are being treated at Children's Hospital of Pittsburgh. It is a charity near and dear to my heart. Genre Baker was diagnosed with A.L.L. in 2009 and was one of the main reasons I chose to run. Fortunately, now, he is in remission.
As I train for the half marathon this year, it is tough. Not only am I working and helping mom, I've had some more health issues, just like in years past. Some recent additional seizure medication, along with some BP medication has made me physically exhausted. So, less time for training plus physical challenges equals...some tough days.
And, 5 years has passed. I am 5 years older. I think when you are in your 20's or your 30's or even in your early 40's? It may not make much of a difference. But, let's face it. I am not a young chick. So, with 5 years passing, and going back to work nearly full time, and helping take care of a mother with cancer, and adding 2 medications that add to my exhaustion, and trying to train for a half marathon...well. You get the picture.
But. I am a fighter. Am I tired? Yes. Will I keep going? Yes? Why? Because, I am a fighter. And there are things worth fighting for...and...well, you, know. I love the run.
It's been 5 years. I don't remember the exact date, but I started my journey to health sometime in 2009 and it is now 2014. It took me 2 years to slowly drop 105 pounds. I dropped 8 sizes. I've kept the weight off. I went from not exercising at all to running a full marathon. I went from hating...and I do mean hating... exercising to become a woman who adores exercising. Running. Lifting. Cross training. Freedom.
I have become liberated in so many ways in the past 5 years. When I made the choice to become healthy, I dropped the chains that were holding me back for so long. The chains that were holding me back for decades, really. With all the extra restrictions that being unhealthy placed on me, I never knew how great I could really feel. How free I could feel.
Running. I love the run. I am free when I run. I have overcome many obstacles in the past 5 years as I continue to pursue my love of the run... Epilepsy being one of the main ones. I am in my own world when I run and I clearly am a lone wolf. I own my runs and no one and nothing can take that from me. Since discovering running, I have rediscovered myself. Someone I lost a very long time ago.
I have not blogged in almost a year. I ran the Marine Corps Marathon in October of 2012. I blogged in April 2013 before last year's half. A lot has happened since then. I have gone back to work, teaching nearly full time. I am helping my mother who was diagnosed with cancer in September. Many weekends, in addition to trying to catch up with things at my own home, I am at her home, helping her.
This will be my 4th year running in Pittsburgh's Half Marathon. I run for the charity Genre's Kids With Cancer Fund. It is a wonderful organization that helps to raise money for children in the Pittsburgh area who have been diagnosed with pediatric cancer and are being treated at Children's Hospital of Pittsburgh. It is a charity near and dear to my heart. Genre Baker was diagnosed with A.L.L. in 2009 and was one of the main reasons I chose to run. Fortunately, now, he is in remission.
As I train for the half marathon this year, it is tough. Not only am I working and helping mom, I've had some more health issues, just like in years past. Some recent additional seizure medication, along with some BP medication has made me physically exhausted. So, less time for training plus physical challenges equals...some tough days.
And, 5 years has passed. I am 5 years older. I think when you are in your 20's or your 30's or even in your early 40's? It may not make much of a difference. But, let's face it. I am not a young chick. So, with 5 years passing, and going back to work nearly full time, and helping take care of a mother with cancer, and adding 2 medications that add to my exhaustion, and trying to train for a half marathon...well. You get the picture.
But. I am a fighter. Am I tired? Yes. Will I keep going? Yes? Why? Because, I am a fighter. And there are things worth fighting for...and...well, you, know. I love the run.
Friday, April 26, 2013
BRING IT
Some observations I've made about myself when it gets down to the wire in the days before a big race:
I enter the zone. Any and everything bouncing around in my head has to do with running. Bottom line. I am a woman obsessed. There's no getting around it and there's no erasing it...it is an all consuming fire that is out of control and a thirst that can not be quenched.
I get lazy. For some reason, instead of bumping things up a notch, I seem to want to slow it down...doesn't have anything to do with tapering...the tapering itself makes me crazy. I get lazy in my workouts and slip into a weird fog. Maybe it has something to do with that zone thing.
I want to eat non-stop. I went to an event last night and had a field day. Geez Louise. Caffeine and chocolate. Party central. SPLEEEEEEEEEEEEE..........................
I seem to notice any and every little thing that has bothered, hurt or annoyed my body since 1984. Ping, ping, ping. 8 days before the race? Well, let's start to hurt Amy now and make her paranoid that there will be a problem race day!
Round and around and around we go. The pattern is the same. This is my 3rd half marathon. I noticed these things for the marathon and for all 3 half marathons. Funny.
When push comes to shove, though, I get the job done.
I enter the zone. Any and everything bouncing around in my head has to do with running. Bottom line. I am a woman obsessed. There's no getting around it and there's no erasing it...it is an all consuming fire that is out of control and a thirst that can not be quenched.
I get lazy. For some reason, instead of bumping things up a notch, I seem to want to slow it down...doesn't have anything to do with tapering...the tapering itself makes me crazy. I get lazy in my workouts and slip into a weird fog. Maybe it has something to do with that zone thing.
I want to eat non-stop. I went to an event last night and had a field day. Geez Louise. Caffeine and chocolate. Party central. SPLEEEEEEEEEEEEE..........................
I seem to notice any and every little thing that has bothered, hurt or annoyed my body since 1984. Ping, ping, ping. 8 days before the race? Well, let's start to hurt Amy now and make her paranoid that there will be a problem race day!
Round and around and around we go. The pattern is the same. This is my 3rd half marathon. I noticed these things for the marathon and for all 3 half marathons. Funny.
When push comes to shove, though, I get the job done.
Saturday, April 6, 2013
The Secret Place
It has been forever since I've blogged. Life is a whirlwind and it spins out of control most days. Yet, there is one constant. I run.
I ran my first marathon last fall. Marine Corps Marathon. It has been over 5 months. Hard to believe. A week or so ago registration opened for this years MCM. It killed me not to sign up. I made a deal with myself that I would do a marathon every other year, and yet, as I received numerous notices "reminding" me to sign up for this years MCM, I couldn't help but get a sick feeling in my stomach that I needed to...wanted to...had to do one this year. But, I did not sign up. Too many things on my plate this next year. A friend of mine, Debbie, did, though, and I am thrilled for her. It's her first marathon!! Tough broad. You have to be to do MCM. You have to be to do any marathon, really. I will do it again in October of 2014.
In one month I will run in Pittsburgh's Half Marathon for the 3rd time. I love running through the streets of Pittsburgh...my hometown. The people are tremendous, VERY enthusiastic and supportive. The live bands and the groups cheering throughout the neighborhoods are unmatched. I am also running for my favorite charity, Genre's Kids With Cancer Fund. As I said to a fellow runner today, to be able to do something you love is wonderful...to be able to raise money for an outstanding charity that helps raise money for children with pediatric cancer and their families while doing it? Well, that's the icing on the cake.
Today I ran 12 miles at Boston Trail. When I do my longer runs, I hit the trail. An added bonus was seeing my friend Samantha...my running buddy...who is also doing Pittsburgh's Half...for the first time!! She brought along Stacy, who rode alongside Sam on her bike, while Sam knocked out her miles. I'm so proud of Sam...she's a die-hard runner and such an inspiration to so many. Another tough one.
When I run, whether it's 3 miles, 12 miles, or 26.2 miles a million things run through my mind. What I think is particularly funny is all the math calculations I do! I, who detested math in school, am constantly figuring out mileage and pace...adding, subtracting, multiplying, dividing, calculating, calculating, and recalculating!
I think about Genre Baker. When he was diagnosed with A.L.L., a 5k was scheduled to raise funds. I had recently started my journey to get healthy, HOWEVER, I did not exercise. At all. I did not like to exercise. I did not like to sweat. I secretly thought I probably would walk the 3.1 miles. But, I cared deeply for Genre and his family and I was motivated to make a difference for this boy...his family...other families. Thankfully, Genre is doing well. I think about Jodi Fowler. She is a runner. She was one of the first people to inspire me to run. I think about my brother Doug. He's a serious runner. He's getting ready to run Boston in a couple of weeks. I think about many other runners and athletes...friends of mine...who inspire and motivate me on a daily basis. I think about all the children down at Children's Hospital dealing with pediatric cancer. I think about their parents. Their families. I think a lot about my father. I think about my family. I think about my friends. I think about my life...past...present and future. I think about all I've accomplished and I think about all the miserable mistakes I've made. I think about my dreams...those that have come true, those left in the dust...and those I keep secret in the corner of my mind. So many things run through my mind...when I run.
The run. It is my secret place. It is mine. I own it. It is the one place that I go, that I experience, that I get lost in...I adore it.
The run. It brings me peace. It gives me strength even when I am at my weakest. When my feet start hitting that surface, and the rhythm of my feet fall into their pattern, all is right with the world.
The run. In the world of the run, I go places I have never gone before...in my mind, I push myself and achieve things I never dreamed possible. I am constantly amazed at what I am able to achieve. I have a strength...not a physical strength...but a mental and emotional strength that I have never seen. It has helped me in the past 4 years through some take your breath away situations in my life. It has helped me see...that I am...One Strong Woman.
I ran my first marathon last fall. Marine Corps Marathon. It has been over 5 months. Hard to believe. A week or so ago registration opened for this years MCM. It killed me not to sign up. I made a deal with myself that I would do a marathon every other year, and yet, as I received numerous notices "reminding" me to sign up for this years MCM, I couldn't help but get a sick feeling in my stomach that I needed to...wanted to...had to do one this year. But, I did not sign up. Too many things on my plate this next year. A friend of mine, Debbie, did, though, and I am thrilled for her. It's her first marathon!! Tough broad. You have to be to do MCM. You have to be to do any marathon, really. I will do it again in October of 2014.
In one month I will run in Pittsburgh's Half Marathon for the 3rd time. I love running through the streets of Pittsburgh...my hometown. The people are tremendous, VERY enthusiastic and supportive. The live bands and the groups cheering throughout the neighborhoods are unmatched. I am also running for my favorite charity, Genre's Kids With Cancer Fund. As I said to a fellow runner today, to be able to do something you love is wonderful...to be able to raise money for an outstanding charity that helps raise money for children with pediatric cancer and their families while doing it? Well, that's the icing on the cake.
Today I ran 12 miles at Boston Trail. When I do my longer runs, I hit the trail. An added bonus was seeing my friend Samantha...my running buddy...who is also doing Pittsburgh's Half...for the first time!! She brought along Stacy, who rode alongside Sam on her bike, while Sam knocked out her miles. I'm so proud of Sam...she's a die-hard runner and such an inspiration to so many. Another tough one.
When I run, whether it's 3 miles, 12 miles, or 26.2 miles a million things run through my mind. What I think is particularly funny is all the math calculations I do! I, who detested math in school, am constantly figuring out mileage and pace...adding, subtracting, multiplying, dividing, calculating, calculating, and recalculating!
I think about Genre Baker. When he was diagnosed with A.L.L., a 5k was scheduled to raise funds. I had recently started my journey to get healthy, HOWEVER, I did not exercise. At all. I did not like to exercise. I did not like to sweat. I secretly thought I probably would walk the 3.1 miles. But, I cared deeply for Genre and his family and I was motivated to make a difference for this boy...his family...other families. Thankfully, Genre is doing well. I think about Jodi Fowler. She is a runner. She was one of the first people to inspire me to run. I think about my brother Doug. He's a serious runner. He's getting ready to run Boston in a couple of weeks. I think about many other runners and athletes...friends of mine...who inspire and motivate me on a daily basis. I think about all the children down at Children's Hospital dealing with pediatric cancer. I think about their parents. Their families. I think a lot about my father. I think about my family. I think about my friends. I think about my life...past...present and future. I think about all I've accomplished and I think about all the miserable mistakes I've made. I think about my dreams...those that have come true, those left in the dust...and those I keep secret in the corner of my mind. So many things run through my mind...when I run.
The run. It is my secret place. It is mine. I own it. It is the one place that I go, that I experience, that I get lost in...I adore it.
The run. It brings me peace. It gives me strength even when I am at my weakest. When my feet start hitting that surface, and the rhythm of my feet fall into their pattern, all is right with the world.
The run. In the world of the run, I go places I have never gone before...in my mind, I push myself and achieve things I never dreamed possible. I am constantly amazed at what I am able to achieve. I have a strength...not a physical strength...but a mental and emotional strength that I have never seen. It has helped me in the past 4 years through some take your breath away situations in my life. It has helped me see...that I am...One Strong Woman.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
BEYOND SATISFACTION: MARINE CORPS MARATHON 2012
Marine Corps Marathon. Sunday, October 28, 2012. I ran it. 26.2 miles. My first marathon and I now say, with surprising certainty, not my last. Six days deeply embedded in my heart and mind. An experience that has not only touched my very core but become a major part of who I am as a person.
I worked hard to get to that race. Really, I like to say that I'd been training for that very moment, that very race, since I started running 3 years ago. Ever since I became a runner, I have always set before me a race, a goal. If I don't have a goal in front me, I don't seem to perform as aggressively. The thrill of training for a race must be like the thrill of a hunt. The challenge propels me to do my very best and often pushes me beyond limits even I knew I possessed...whether those limits be physical, mental or emotional.
When I first started getting fit, first started working towards losing those 100 (now almost 105) pounds, I didn't exercise at all...let alone run. I hated exercising. Hated sweating. Training for my first 5k, I couldn't run 1/4 of 1/4 mile. I couldn't run more than 5-10 minutes at a time. I chipped away at it. I added cross training and strength training, got stronger and developed endurance. Now? If need be, I can run for 3 hours straight. I've become smarter in my training. I love long distance running, but I've learned to work in walk breaks on very long runs...not only to avoid injury, but to alleviate exhaustion. I've learned how to add hydration and fuel properly. 1/4 mile turned into 1 mile...1 mile turned into a 5k (3.1 miles).... a 5k turned into a 10k (6.2 miles)...a 10k turned into 2 Half Marathons (13.1 miles).... and the Half Marathons turned into the Marine Corps Marathon.
I had been planning for the Marine Corps for well over a year. I had actually planned on running it last year, but health issues prevented me from running it last October. I left a few days early to spend some time with my good friend Lynn from college that I hadn't seen in decades, and to just take time preparing and adjusting to the days before the race.
I had a wonderful time with Lynn. She was my best friend in college and we spend 4 close, fun years together and kept in touch for some time afterwards. We lost touch for many years, and facebook reconnected us a couple of years ago. I had the pleasure of staying with her family, meeting her wonderful husband and great kids and was even able to go back one day and have lunch with her and her mom. Lynn and I spend time catching up and it was so good! It really made me miss her all the more and wish we lived closer.
Before my brother Doug arrived in town, I spent time settling in my hotel room, exploring the area a little bit and getting ready for the race. I even went to Chinatown for lunch one day. Best lunch I've had in a long time. I walked around, went to a mall that was within walking distance a couple of times and just enjoyed myself. I have to admit, words can not even begin to describe how nice it was to be pampered in the hotel...Relaxation totally washed over me every time I stepped into my room. Now, driving in D.C.? Well...that's another story. I went to the Expo and picked up my race bib and took a few more pictures. Always love picking up race bibs!
Race Day. There was this little issue of Hurricane Sandy. Ended up being a horrific disaster for many, many people in the days to follow. Very sad. The day I got down there, and the days that followed, the weather forecast fluctuated back and forth between 30% chance of rain to 90% chance of rain. Runners were glued to the television and at the Expo, the buzz was about how everyone was going to prepare for game day. How was everyone going to dress if it was storming aggressively? Generally, I won't even run in the rain, because, frankly... why? If I have to, I will, but I'm at the age where if I don't have to be uncomfortable, I won't. I bought a baseball cap to help block the rain and thought..."Well, it is what it is and I can't do anything about it." Sunday morning they called for 30% chance of rain. IT DID NOT RAIN. At all. Nice. Now, the wind? The wind picked up significantly about halfway through the race. Made it a bit more challenging. But, thank God, it did not rain. Truth be told, I don't know if I would have been able to finish the race if it had been raining non-stop for 26 miles.
The night before the race I switched hotels to the Ritz Carlton to be in the same hotel as Doug. Very nice. Because of a comedy of errors, that were not so funny to me, my plans to be in bed early the night before the race did not materialize. I got to bed late and ended up racing the marathon on FOUR AND A HALF hours of sleep. That's right. Fortunately, adrenaline kicks in somewhat, but seriously, for a race this big, you need to be rested. Hmph.
Doug and I got up at 5:00 a.m. and I hoped and prayed I had everything packed (to take to the car to check out for the ride home), hoped I had everything in my UPS gear check bag (to take to Runner's Village) and hoped I was rested enough to complete this race. The hotel lobby was buzzing with runners awake and ready to go. Many of the runners were taking the Metro to Runner's Village, the gathering place, where runners drop off their gear bags and hang out until it was time go to the start line. Doug and I decided to walk. We began the trek in the dark to Runner's Village. We walked, walked, walked down Army Navy Drive and the other various streets, following the packs of runners towards Runner's Village. I love the camaraderie among runners...we're like a family...everyone enthusiastic, everyone encouraging each other, everyone so excited, sharing stories.
Runner's Village. We found gear check and checked our bags. Now began the wait in the porta potty lines. You get in line whether you think you have to go or not. The lines are always so long. If you don't have to go when you get in line, you will by the time it's your turn. Then, if you're smart, you'll hit that line at least one more time before the race begins.
It's still pitch black outside and it's getting close to the time to begin the second part of the journey. The walk to the corrals. What are the corrals? When you sign up for a race, you determine how long it will take you to complete the race. They place marked "corrals" where runners gather until the gun goes off. On the walk to the corrals, some runners, mainly guys, decide they need to take a leak in the bushes alongside the road. Just a fact in runners' land...a perk of being a guy. Occasionally, you'll see a determined, extremely rushed and focused (crazy) woman squatting alongside the road in the bushes...usually she's a bit more discreet than the men.
Finally, we get to the corrals. Doug is MUCH faster than I am. He does a sub-8 minute mile...which means he'll be done 6 days before me...we hug each other goodbye and I am standing among thousands of people ready for the adventure of their lives.
The start line was located between the Pentagon and Arlington National Cemetery. The howitzer fired at 7:55 a.m. officially starting the 37th MCM. Some of the highlights that runners passed were the Lincoln Memorial, the Jefferson Memorial, the Martin Luther King Jr. National Memorial, the FDR Memorial, the Korean Memorial, the WWII Memorial, the National Monument, the U.S. Capitol, and the National 9/11 Pentagon Memorial. The finish line was alongside the Arlington National Cemetery then offered a final uphill challenge to the finish at the Marine Corps War Memorial.
The race was amazing. Unforgettable. I can not explain to you the feeling of pure joy I felt to even be standing at the starting point. So, so overwhelmed with feelings of happiness and gratitude that I had even made it to that point, I had to hold back tears.
While waiting for the howitzer to blow, I looked around me. Runners of all ages. Runners in costumes. Very serious runners. Very nervous runners. Very excited runners. The howitzer fired. Because I was at a corral with a slower pace mark, I did not actually cross the start line until close to 8:30 a.m. There were over 33,000 runners registered.
I tried to stay focused. This is just another long run I told myself. Another REALLY long run. Don't start out too fast. Pay attention to your pace. Fuel every 5-7 miles. Hydrate. Hydrate. Hydrate. Pay attention to your knees. Enjoy the scenery. Enjoy the crowd. Appreciate. Appreciate. Appreciate.
The first 20 miles weren't too bad. Long about mile 13-14 I did seem to hit a bit of a wall. I remember thinking I needed to get my act together because I had a long way to go. I remember thinking not to panic. I was determined to remain on pace as much as possible. The second half of the race the wind kicked up and that made it a little more challenging. I knew I had to get to the Gauntlet by mile 17.5 and I needed to reach it by the shut off time of 12:20 p.m. Runners who didn't get to the Gauntlet in time would be rerouted off the official marathon course. They would be allowed to complete the run, but it wouldn't be considered an official marathon. They also would be asked to not take a finisher's medal. That first 20 miles, I took one bathroom break. Stopped at a bathroom area similar to a park bathroom...better than a porta potty...took about 10-12 minutes off my time because of waiting in line. I debated going off into the woods, as I knew I needed to get to the Gauntlet, but I thought I could make my time. I probably took a few 5-10 minute walk breaks as well during that 20 miles. A bunch of us got to the Gauntlet. 12:15. A Marine hollered at us, "Reroute! Reroute! Shut off! Shut off! You didn't make it! Take the alternate course!" WHAT?!?!? We were yelling we had a couple of minutes to go, but the guy made us go the other way. We were angry. We stopped running and couldn't believe we busted it to get there and they shut us off. As we stopped to catch our breath and tried to figure out what was going on, the same Marine started screaming at us, "WAIT! WAIT! COME BACK! COME BACK! You have 5 more minutes!!" We went nuts, booking it back to the Gauntlet. We were like, "No kidding!!!" We flew. We made it in time. They shut off the people behind us.
Now, there was no time to rest. We needed to Beat the Bridge. This was what I was lying awake at night worrying about for months. Beating the Bridge. Runners had to successfully Beat the Bridge just before mile marker 20 by 1:05 p.m. The 14th Street Bridge would then reopen to vehicular traffic making it unavailable to runners. If you didn't make it to the bridge by 1:05 p.m., you'd be required to board a straggler (LOSER...my words!!!) bus and would be driven to the event finish area. I ran. I ran like crazy. I had to get to the bridge. I had really upped my pace to get to the Gauntlet and sure shootin' I wasn't going to be a loser on that bus. I heard so many people at the start of the race, in the corrals saying, "I do NOT want to board the bus of shame, I do NOT want to board the bus of shame...". I ran and ran and ran. Man. Sometimes I have issues with my knees. My knees did not hurt. At all! Thank God. I've had major surgery on my one knee and my other knee has been scoped. I wear knee bands when I run, I strength train to make my legs stronger and strength train to make the muscles, tendons and ligaments around the knees stronger and I do anti-inflammatories when needed. Sometimes around mile 6 I start getting little ping...ping...pings...and that is NOT COOL. During the race? No pain. I ran like the wind. I was going to get to that bridge if it killed me. Especially after the Gauntlet fiasco. I made it. 12:50 p.m. 15 minutes to spare. Thank God. A bunch of us hit the bridge and stopped cold. Catching our breath. Yelling. Hooting. Hollering. Dancing. High fiving each other.
And then. I hit that wall. I should have fueled one more time. I knew better. I was carrying my own fuel...I trained with the same fuel they were using on the course. They had fuel and hydration on the course. I carried my own fuel and used theirs as backup. I should have fueled one more time...for that last 6 miles. But, I was so sick of all the fuel, all the hydration in my system. I just stopped. Once I hit that 20 miles, I started to walk some. I walked. I ran. I walked way more than I wanted to walk. I was mad at myself because I just wanted to close out that last 6 miles.
The spectators were wonderful. So enthusiastic. So encouraging. The volunteers were great. The Marines. Well, anyone who knows a Marine...they know how to get the job done.
I had a mixture of feelings as I wound down the race. Excitement. Weariness. Exhilaration. Satisfaction. Freedom.
I looked forward to seeing my brother Aaron at the finish line. Aaron is an FBI agent. For his job he has to be very fit. And he is...Very fit. Very healthy. To a T...He has encouraged me and coached me through my fitness journey. He came to watch me cross the finish line. I looked forward to seeing my brother Doug at the finish line. Doug ran this race with me. Actually, he ran it WELL ahead of me...finishing it in under 4 hours. Doug has also been a great mentor and coach in my short running career. He has run many marathons...has done 3 marathons in 5 months and qualified for, and is running in, the Boston marathon in April. He also competes in triathlons. Doug's wife Patti (also a runner and a coach to me) and my nephew and 2 nieces also came to cheer us on and to watch me cross the finish line on my first marathon. My niece Megan took some great pictures!
There was one last hill to climb before I hit the finish line. There were signs painted on the hill saying "Can You Take The Hill?" I took it. As I ran towards the finish line, I heard my brothers and Patti and the kids screaming my name and waving wildly. The kids were jumping up and down and they were taking pictures. There was a line of Marines on both sides of the finish line hooting and hollering, cheering people on as they crossed the line, high fiving the finishers.
I finished. 26.2 miles.
I didn't see Aaron and Doug for about 30 minutes or so. Patti and the kids had to head back home. I didn't even actually get to talk to Patti and the kids, spend time with them or see them. But, one of the reasons they drove all the way down from Philadelphia was to see me cross that finish line. I will never forget that. I appreciated that. I appreciated them standing for hours, especially after Doug finished...just to watch me finish. I proceeded to a group of Marines and received my finisher's medal. A Marine shook my hand, place the medal over my head and said, "Congratulations, Ma'am...Great job". I got my picture taken with my medal and got a box full of food and something to drink. We got a jacket to cover up with...the air was cool and the wind was kicking up from Hurricane Sandy. Once you stop running, chills begin to set in...I began the long walk to the FedEx truck to pick up my gear bag. It was a long walk. A million thoughts raced through my mind. I thought about what I had just done. I thought about a few important people that got me to that point that weren't with me. My official chip time...meaning the time I crossed the start line until the time I crossed the finish line was 6 hours and 17 minutes. I was mad at myself because I thought, "If I just hadn't walked so much that last 6 miles, I could have shaved 18 minutes off of my time and had a sub 6 hour time". But, I'm not going to beat myself up too much.
I wanted to do one marathon before I turned 50 on December 20th. I remember thinking as I crossed the finish line, "I liked that. I could do that again. Maybe not tomorrow, but I could do that again." And I will.
I was going to spend the night with my brother Aaron in Annapolis and go home the next day. But, literally, as I was following Aaron back to his place in my car, he and I talked on the phone and decided the weather from Hurricane Sandy was too much of a threat and I should head back home immediately. So, after getting only 4 1/2 hours of sleep the night before, and running 26.2 miles, I drove 4 1/2 hours home in the dark. I was a little tired.
Needless to say, my body was sore. I was tired. That is to be expected when you do a 26.2 mile race. I took a week off from running and going to the gym. I worked long and hard training for this race and it paid off. I had the time of my life those 6 days and the Marine Corps Marathon was everything I expected it to be and more.
Now? I think, I'd like to maybe run a marathon every other year. I loved it. Training for, and running a marathon is challenging on the body if you don't train properly. It also is very time consuming. In the meantime, I have fitness and health goals in mind. I love the journey I have been taking over the past 3 years. I love being healthy. I feel great. I have more energy, strength, endurance and stamina than I did in my 20's. I get a lot more done than I used to get done.
I am happy and proud to say that I am an athlete. I am happy and proud to say that I am healthy. I am happy and proud to say that I am fit. I am happy and proud to say that I am a runner.
But, I still don't think I'm going to be one of those crazy runners that wears a diaper...and then drops it on the road...used...in the middle of the course...just sayin'...
I worked hard to get to that race. Really, I like to say that I'd been training for that very moment, that very race, since I started running 3 years ago. Ever since I became a runner, I have always set before me a race, a goal. If I don't have a goal in front me, I don't seem to perform as aggressively. The thrill of training for a race must be like the thrill of a hunt. The challenge propels me to do my very best and often pushes me beyond limits even I knew I possessed...whether those limits be physical, mental or emotional.
When I first started getting fit, first started working towards losing those 100 (now almost 105) pounds, I didn't exercise at all...let alone run. I hated exercising. Hated sweating. Training for my first 5k, I couldn't run 1/4 of 1/4 mile. I couldn't run more than 5-10 minutes at a time. I chipped away at it. I added cross training and strength training, got stronger and developed endurance. Now? If need be, I can run for 3 hours straight. I've become smarter in my training. I love long distance running, but I've learned to work in walk breaks on very long runs...not only to avoid injury, but to alleviate exhaustion. I've learned how to add hydration and fuel properly. 1/4 mile turned into 1 mile...1 mile turned into a 5k (3.1 miles).... a 5k turned into a 10k (6.2 miles)...a 10k turned into 2 Half Marathons (13.1 miles).... and the Half Marathons turned into the Marine Corps Marathon.
I had been planning for the Marine Corps for well over a year. I had actually planned on running it last year, but health issues prevented me from running it last October. I left a few days early to spend some time with my good friend Lynn from college that I hadn't seen in decades, and to just take time preparing and adjusting to the days before the race.
I had a wonderful time with Lynn. She was my best friend in college and we spend 4 close, fun years together and kept in touch for some time afterwards. We lost touch for many years, and facebook reconnected us a couple of years ago. I had the pleasure of staying with her family, meeting her wonderful husband and great kids and was even able to go back one day and have lunch with her and her mom. Lynn and I spend time catching up and it was so good! It really made me miss her all the more and wish we lived closer.
Before my brother Doug arrived in town, I spent time settling in my hotel room, exploring the area a little bit and getting ready for the race. I even went to Chinatown for lunch one day. Best lunch I've had in a long time. I walked around, went to a mall that was within walking distance a couple of times and just enjoyed myself. I have to admit, words can not even begin to describe how nice it was to be pampered in the hotel...Relaxation totally washed over me every time I stepped into my room. Now, driving in D.C.? Well...that's another story. I went to the Expo and picked up my race bib and took a few more pictures. Always love picking up race bibs!
Race Day. There was this little issue of Hurricane Sandy. Ended up being a horrific disaster for many, many people in the days to follow. Very sad. The day I got down there, and the days that followed, the weather forecast fluctuated back and forth between 30% chance of rain to 90% chance of rain. Runners were glued to the television and at the Expo, the buzz was about how everyone was going to prepare for game day. How was everyone going to dress if it was storming aggressively? Generally, I won't even run in the rain, because, frankly... why? If I have to, I will, but I'm at the age where if I don't have to be uncomfortable, I won't. I bought a baseball cap to help block the rain and thought..."Well, it is what it is and I can't do anything about it." Sunday morning they called for 30% chance of rain. IT DID NOT RAIN. At all. Nice. Now, the wind? The wind picked up significantly about halfway through the race. Made it a bit more challenging. But, thank God, it did not rain. Truth be told, I don't know if I would have been able to finish the race if it had been raining non-stop for 26 miles.
The night before the race I switched hotels to the Ritz Carlton to be in the same hotel as Doug. Very nice. Because of a comedy of errors, that were not so funny to me, my plans to be in bed early the night before the race did not materialize. I got to bed late and ended up racing the marathon on FOUR AND A HALF hours of sleep. That's right. Fortunately, adrenaline kicks in somewhat, but seriously, for a race this big, you need to be rested. Hmph.
Doug and I got up at 5:00 a.m. and I hoped and prayed I had everything packed (to take to the car to check out for the ride home), hoped I had everything in my UPS gear check bag (to take to Runner's Village) and hoped I was rested enough to complete this race. The hotel lobby was buzzing with runners awake and ready to go. Many of the runners were taking the Metro to Runner's Village, the gathering place, where runners drop off their gear bags and hang out until it was time go to the start line. Doug and I decided to walk. We began the trek in the dark to Runner's Village. We walked, walked, walked down Army Navy Drive and the other various streets, following the packs of runners towards Runner's Village. I love the camaraderie among runners...we're like a family...everyone enthusiastic, everyone encouraging each other, everyone so excited, sharing stories.
Runner's Village. We found gear check and checked our bags. Now began the wait in the porta potty lines. You get in line whether you think you have to go or not. The lines are always so long. If you don't have to go when you get in line, you will by the time it's your turn. Then, if you're smart, you'll hit that line at least one more time before the race begins.
It's still pitch black outside and it's getting close to the time to begin the second part of the journey. The walk to the corrals. What are the corrals? When you sign up for a race, you determine how long it will take you to complete the race. They place marked "corrals" where runners gather until the gun goes off. On the walk to the corrals, some runners, mainly guys, decide they need to take a leak in the bushes alongside the road. Just a fact in runners' land...a perk of being a guy. Occasionally, you'll see a determined, extremely rushed and focused (crazy) woman squatting alongside the road in the bushes...usually she's a bit more discreet than the men.
Finally, we get to the corrals. Doug is MUCH faster than I am. He does a sub-8 minute mile...which means he'll be done 6 days before me...we hug each other goodbye and I am standing among thousands of people ready for the adventure of their lives.
The start line was located between the Pentagon and Arlington National Cemetery. The howitzer fired at 7:55 a.m. officially starting the 37th MCM. Some of the highlights that runners passed were the Lincoln Memorial, the Jefferson Memorial, the Martin Luther King Jr. National Memorial, the FDR Memorial, the Korean Memorial, the WWII Memorial, the National Monument, the U.S. Capitol, and the National 9/11 Pentagon Memorial. The finish line was alongside the Arlington National Cemetery then offered a final uphill challenge to the finish at the Marine Corps War Memorial.
The race was amazing. Unforgettable. I can not explain to you the feeling of pure joy I felt to even be standing at the starting point. So, so overwhelmed with feelings of happiness and gratitude that I had even made it to that point, I had to hold back tears.
While waiting for the howitzer to blow, I looked around me. Runners of all ages. Runners in costumes. Very serious runners. Very nervous runners. Very excited runners. The howitzer fired. Because I was at a corral with a slower pace mark, I did not actually cross the start line until close to 8:30 a.m. There were over 33,000 runners registered.
I tried to stay focused. This is just another long run I told myself. Another REALLY long run. Don't start out too fast. Pay attention to your pace. Fuel every 5-7 miles. Hydrate. Hydrate. Hydrate. Pay attention to your knees. Enjoy the scenery. Enjoy the crowd. Appreciate. Appreciate. Appreciate.
The first 20 miles weren't too bad. Long about mile 13-14 I did seem to hit a bit of a wall. I remember thinking I needed to get my act together because I had a long way to go. I remember thinking not to panic. I was determined to remain on pace as much as possible. The second half of the race the wind kicked up and that made it a little more challenging. I knew I had to get to the Gauntlet by mile 17.5 and I needed to reach it by the shut off time of 12:20 p.m. Runners who didn't get to the Gauntlet in time would be rerouted off the official marathon course. They would be allowed to complete the run, but it wouldn't be considered an official marathon. They also would be asked to not take a finisher's medal. That first 20 miles, I took one bathroom break. Stopped at a bathroom area similar to a park bathroom...better than a porta potty...took about 10-12 minutes off my time because of waiting in line. I debated going off into the woods, as I knew I needed to get to the Gauntlet, but I thought I could make my time. I probably took a few 5-10 minute walk breaks as well during that 20 miles. A bunch of us got to the Gauntlet. 12:15. A Marine hollered at us, "Reroute! Reroute! Shut off! Shut off! You didn't make it! Take the alternate course!" WHAT?!?!? We were yelling we had a couple of minutes to go, but the guy made us go the other way. We were angry. We stopped running and couldn't believe we busted it to get there and they shut us off. As we stopped to catch our breath and tried to figure out what was going on, the same Marine started screaming at us, "WAIT! WAIT! COME BACK! COME BACK! You have 5 more minutes!!" We went nuts, booking it back to the Gauntlet. We were like, "No kidding!!!" We flew. We made it in time. They shut off the people behind us.
Now, there was no time to rest. We needed to Beat the Bridge. This was what I was lying awake at night worrying about for months. Beating the Bridge. Runners had to successfully Beat the Bridge just before mile marker 20 by 1:05 p.m. The 14th Street Bridge would then reopen to vehicular traffic making it unavailable to runners. If you didn't make it to the bridge by 1:05 p.m., you'd be required to board a straggler (LOSER...my words!!!) bus and would be driven to the event finish area. I ran. I ran like crazy. I had to get to the bridge. I had really upped my pace to get to the Gauntlet and sure shootin' I wasn't going to be a loser on that bus. I heard so many people at the start of the race, in the corrals saying, "I do NOT want to board the bus of shame, I do NOT want to board the bus of shame...". I ran and ran and ran. Man. Sometimes I have issues with my knees. My knees did not hurt. At all! Thank God. I've had major surgery on my one knee and my other knee has been scoped. I wear knee bands when I run, I strength train to make my legs stronger and strength train to make the muscles, tendons and ligaments around the knees stronger and I do anti-inflammatories when needed. Sometimes around mile 6 I start getting little ping...ping...pings...and that is NOT COOL. During the race? No pain. I ran like the wind. I was going to get to that bridge if it killed me. Especially after the Gauntlet fiasco. I made it. 12:50 p.m. 15 minutes to spare. Thank God. A bunch of us hit the bridge and stopped cold. Catching our breath. Yelling. Hooting. Hollering. Dancing. High fiving each other.
And then. I hit that wall. I should have fueled one more time. I knew better. I was carrying my own fuel...I trained with the same fuel they were using on the course. They had fuel and hydration on the course. I carried my own fuel and used theirs as backup. I should have fueled one more time...for that last 6 miles. But, I was so sick of all the fuel, all the hydration in my system. I just stopped. Once I hit that 20 miles, I started to walk some. I walked. I ran. I walked way more than I wanted to walk. I was mad at myself because I just wanted to close out that last 6 miles.
The spectators were wonderful. So enthusiastic. So encouraging. The volunteers were great. The Marines. Well, anyone who knows a Marine...they know how to get the job done.
I had a mixture of feelings as I wound down the race. Excitement. Weariness. Exhilaration. Satisfaction. Freedom.
I looked forward to seeing my brother Aaron at the finish line. Aaron is an FBI agent. For his job he has to be very fit. And he is...Very fit. Very healthy. To a T...He has encouraged me and coached me through my fitness journey. He came to watch me cross the finish line. I looked forward to seeing my brother Doug at the finish line. Doug ran this race with me. Actually, he ran it WELL ahead of me...finishing it in under 4 hours. Doug has also been a great mentor and coach in my short running career. He has run many marathons...has done 3 marathons in 5 months and qualified for, and is running in, the Boston marathon in April. He also competes in triathlons. Doug's wife Patti (also a runner and a coach to me) and my nephew and 2 nieces also came to cheer us on and to watch me cross the finish line on my first marathon. My niece Megan took some great pictures!
There was one last hill to climb before I hit the finish line. There were signs painted on the hill saying "Can You Take The Hill?" I took it. As I ran towards the finish line, I heard my brothers and Patti and the kids screaming my name and waving wildly. The kids were jumping up and down and they were taking pictures. There was a line of Marines on both sides of the finish line hooting and hollering, cheering people on as they crossed the line, high fiving the finishers.
I finished. 26.2 miles.
I didn't see Aaron and Doug for about 30 minutes or so. Patti and the kids had to head back home. I didn't even actually get to talk to Patti and the kids, spend time with them or see them. But, one of the reasons they drove all the way down from Philadelphia was to see me cross that finish line. I will never forget that. I appreciated that. I appreciated them standing for hours, especially after Doug finished...just to watch me finish. I proceeded to a group of Marines and received my finisher's medal. A Marine shook my hand, place the medal over my head and said, "Congratulations, Ma'am...Great job". I got my picture taken with my medal and got a box full of food and something to drink. We got a jacket to cover up with...the air was cool and the wind was kicking up from Hurricane Sandy. Once you stop running, chills begin to set in...I began the long walk to the FedEx truck to pick up my gear bag. It was a long walk. A million thoughts raced through my mind. I thought about what I had just done. I thought about a few important people that got me to that point that weren't with me. My official chip time...meaning the time I crossed the start line until the time I crossed the finish line was 6 hours and 17 minutes. I was mad at myself because I thought, "If I just hadn't walked so much that last 6 miles, I could have shaved 18 minutes off of my time and had a sub 6 hour time". But, I'm not going to beat myself up too much.
I wanted to do one marathon before I turned 50 on December 20th. I remember thinking as I crossed the finish line, "I liked that. I could do that again. Maybe not tomorrow, but I could do that again." And I will.
I was going to spend the night with my brother Aaron in Annapolis and go home the next day. But, literally, as I was following Aaron back to his place in my car, he and I talked on the phone and decided the weather from Hurricane Sandy was too much of a threat and I should head back home immediately. So, after getting only 4 1/2 hours of sleep the night before, and running 26.2 miles, I drove 4 1/2 hours home in the dark. I was a little tired.
Needless to say, my body was sore. I was tired. That is to be expected when you do a 26.2 mile race. I took a week off from running and going to the gym. I worked long and hard training for this race and it paid off. I had the time of my life those 6 days and the Marine Corps Marathon was everything I expected it to be and more.
Now? I think, I'd like to maybe run a marathon every other year. I loved it. Training for, and running a marathon is challenging on the body if you don't train properly. It also is very time consuming. In the meantime, I have fitness and health goals in mind. I love the journey I have been taking over the past 3 years. I love being healthy. I feel great. I have more energy, strength, endurance and stamina than I did in my 20's. I get a lot more done than I used to get done.
I am happy and proud to say that I am an athlete. I am happy and proud to say that I am healthy. I am happy and proud to say that I am fit. I am happy and proud to say that I am a runner.
But, I still don't think I'm going to be one of those crazy runners that wears a diaper...and then drops it on the road...used...in the middle of the course...just sayin'...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)