This past year, I spent a good portion of the prime running months sidelined with a very unhappy foot. Throughout this time, I tried very hard to just be thankful that it wasn’t something worse. I wasn’t very successful most of the time. The runner brain kicked in and all I could focus on was the fact that I couldn’t run, that I couldn’t train, that I was going to lose fitness, etc.
But as the time went on, and the injury wasn’t getting any better, I found a shift in my attitude for the most part. I started to be thankful for the mornings the foot wasn’t too sore to get in a slow, easy run. I was thankful for the gym, for opening at 5 a.m. so I could at least go for a swim. I was thankful for the people in my life, who would call to check on me, who would find ways to make me laugh and to get my focus to change from what I couldn’t do…to what I still could do.
But there were other things to be thankful for this year. Here is a small list:
I am thankful for my family, who I don’t get to see often enough. I wish I could come visit every weekend, because living so far away makes me feel like I am missing so much. I have seven nieces and nephews…and every time I see them, they’ve grown up more and have changed so much. It’s so hard. But through the distance and over the years, my family’s love and support and constant phone calls and texting have seen me through both good and bad times. I am nothing without my family.
I am thankful for my secondary family…my roommate (Cathy), and her immediate family…Amanda, Judi, Janet, and Richie. For dinner’s out, movies in, and always being up for an adventure. Oh…and for letting me cook for you.
I am thankful for my job. It may not be what I want to be doing, but I am really good at it and I get a lot done. I know I can complain a lot about it, but it’s just because I’m a perfectionist and, as in life, the job isn’t always perfect.
I am thankful for my friends, those I can see on a regular basis, those I can see a few times a year, and those I rarely get to see…because without friendships…life is lonely. And whether we see each other always or never, the fact that you are always there and a part of my life means the world to me. Friendship is one of the single most important things in life. If you find yourself lacking friends, go and rekindle some you thought you lost…or go make some new ones.
I am thankful for the ability to cook. Because nothing makes me feel happier than being able to take a few fresh ingredients and turn it into something new and something, hopefully, delicious. I used to set things on fire when I tried to cook…but when I moved here, it became something I needed to learn. I caught on fast.
I am thankful for fresh foods, and good gluten-free products. Being a gluten-free vegetarian is hard. Add being an athlete to it, and it becomes even more of a challenge. That being said…changing my diet has been a challenge, both budget-wise, and health-wise. But it’s important and it had to be done. I’ve gotten some help this year when I signed up for Cuisine Cube…and thankfully, fresh fruits and veggies are always gluten-free…and are two of my favorite things in life.
I am thankful for each year I can travel up to Minnesota and see my family there. Moments with my grandpa are my most cherished.
I am thankful to be able to travel. Sometimes it’s not far. Sometimes it’s not even somewhere people would call fun or interesting…but nothing makes me happier than exploring somewhere new and stepping away from real life for a little while.
I am thankful to my friends who run…for inspiration, encouragement, and for just being awesome. You all know who you are.
This was a fun little survey thing posted by The Dancing Runner on her blog. I thought it would be something fun to fill out and share with my readers!! Feel free to do it yourself. And enjoy!
Four Names That People Call Me (Other Than My Real Name):
-KJ
-Wonder Woman
-Donkey
-Gael
Four Jobs I’ve Had:
-Starbucks Barista
-Assistant Manager of a CD store
-Loan Processor/Funder
-Assistant to the Alumni Director at a universityFour Movies I’ve Watched More Than Once (and can quote from memory):
-Pirates of the Caribbean
-The Princess Bride
-National Lampoons Christmas Vacation
-Lord of the Rings (the entire trilogy!)
Four Reads I Recommend / Can’t Live Without
-The Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon (yes…the ENTIRE series)
-Runner’s World
-Mile Markers by Kristin Armstrong
-The Dresden Files series by Jim Butcher
Four Places I Have Lived:
-Minneapolis, Minnesota
-Big Flats, New York
-Birmingham, Alabama
-New Albany, Indiana
Four Places I’ve Been:
-Ireland
-Scotland
-Germany
-England
Four Places I’d Rather Be Right Now:
-A beach
-Hawaii
-Ireland
-Australia
Four Things I Don’t Eat:
-Gluten
-Jello
-Anything fried
-Olives
Four of My Favorite Foods:
-Avocados
-Greek Yogurt
-Fruit!!!
-Peanut Butter (and I eat WAY more than I should!)
Four Shows That I Watch(ed):
-Dr. Who
-Master Chef
-The X-Files
-Face Off
Four Things I’m Always Saying:
-“Stop ending your sentence in a preposition!”
-“For real?!”
-“Here…taste this!”
-“Let’s do this thing!”
People I’m Tagging To Do This Next:
-I’m not tagging anyone…do it if you want. If not…no pressure!
Five Random Facts:
-The only person who has ever heard it is my sister, Karla, but I can sing a wicked death metal version of Coldplay’s “Yellow.”
-If I’m having a bad day, one thing that always makes me smile is my sister’s impression of Dracula, because it is just that damn good.
-I was once in a commercial.
-When I was in high school, my artwork was displayed in a few art shows! Did you know I was an artist? Now you do!
-I have a blue belt in karate! If I hadn’t moved away from New York, I’d probably still be practicing.
So, there you have it. A fun little questionnaire. Maybe you already knew this about me…and maybe you didn’t. If you feel like doing it…copy and paste it to your own blog. And if not, well, don’t worry about it. It’s all up to you!!
Me crossing the finish line with Natalie at the Urban Bourbon Half Marathon, Louisville, Kentucky
Race: Urban Bourbon Half Marathon
Place: Louisville, Kentucky
Date: October 25, 2014
Time:2:00:21
It was the weekend before the New York City Marathon…and I had not run over 2 miles. At all. Nope. Coming back after Twin Cities was a struggle. When you run a marathon you don’t train for…you hurt. When your foot already hurts…you hurt longer and more than you thought was humanly possible. I took a full two weeks off after Twin Cities…no nothing. Just recovery. And then, because of inflammation and a bit of lingering soreness in the foot…I picked up some light cardio on the machines, but still hesitated to get out there and pound the pavement. After one more week of cautionary workouts…I decided to try 1 mile. I did this every morning…and I felt like some progress was being made.
The problem with the foot meant that I was out of the Black Cat Chase 5K in Frankfort, Kentucky. I was bummed, because that is a great 5K to run. It’s at night. It’s usually cold. It’s fun. And I always duck into the coffee shop afterwards for apple cider to warm up. It wasn’t happening this year…not with this foot. The people in Frankfort were gracious enough to allow me to use the free entry I won towards next year. So…there it is.
I knew that New York City was looming. It was just…there. And I knew I needed to go for an easy double-digit run…working in some walking because you just don’t go from 1 mile to double digits right away. You just…don’t.
Awhile back, a friend of mine said she was training for the Urban Bourbon Half Marathon…and as I was out all summer, my intention was to show up…with signs…and cheer for her. I wasn’t going to tell her I was doing it. Just show up and surprise her. But…things sort of unraveled the week or so before the race. Needless to say…I ended up scrapping the plans this time.
But then, my friend Natalie, who swore off the Urban Bourbon (because this half marathon meant the end of the Big Hit Quarter and Half Marathons) was suddenly running it because our friend, and fellow runner, Terry, gave her a free entry. She, like me, has been dealing with injuries this year, and she decided since she hadn’t trained for it, she’d just go out there and run what she feels and it would all be grand. She told me, after I teased her about signing up for a race she said she’d never run, that she was going to do a run/walk method.
Which got me thinking about how necessary running over 1 mile a day was for me in order to prepare for New York City. After I texted her to make sure she wasn’t running for time (let’s face it…speed is not something I have right now)…and she confirmed…and that she would do a run/walk method…I said I’d like to run it with her, as a good gauge for how New York City would go. And…she even had a free entry code for me…so…free race. How could I say no?
Answer: I would have been stupid to turn it down.
Unexpected half marathon…registered.
So, after attending the Halloween Party at Annie May’s Sweet Café in Louisville, Kentucky (I went dressed as a “jogger”), where I got my gluten-free pizza (required!!), I went home and had to decide on something to wear. Natalie, in protest, was wearing one of her Big Hit shirts. Long sleeve. I wanted to dress the same as her…but the weather was saying 50 degrees that morning, and I didn’t think, from the picture, that I had that shirt (I do…I pulled it out even, but in my mind, as she had arm warmers with it, I thought it was a short sleeve shirt and the Big Hit short sleeve shirts were tents on me!), so I opted to be Natalie’s Tinkerbell. In other words…GREEN! I pulled out my new running skirt I got on sale at Nike and my bright green BlueMile t-shirt. That would work. I planned on testing out the Adidas Adizero Boston 5 shoes that my friend, and shoe guru, Jackson, put me in the weekend before when I limped into Fleet Feet. I had worn them on a couple of my little 1 mile jaunts…and loved them. They weren’t Newtons…but they do give me a comfortable ride. Adidas seems to be the other shoe I love. Go figure. Anyway, Jackson swore by them and I tested them out with a jog around the building. Foot felt good and comfortable in them. SOLD. They came home with me and that week I spent breaking them in properly…by wearing them everywhere. When the free entry to the Urban Bourbon came around…great way to test them in a race environment, even if I wasn’t racing this half marathon.
So, morning came around and I got dressed up and ate my breakfast – my usual bowl of cereal. Whatever gluten-free kind I have open. I did that…had a spot of coffee…drank some water…and got ready to go. The only thing I needed now was my BondiBand. It’s part of my race uniform. So I ended up going with a green one that said “Marathon Maniacs” on it. It worked. After a quick brush of my teeth, my extra clothes were grabbed and my banana for the start was picked up…I filled up my fuel belt with water and a new flavor of Gu (Vanilla Bean) to take halfway through…to practice some fueling. And then, Cathy and I headed for the car.
Surprisingly, parking was not an issue for this race. We picked the parking garage we parked in when I ran the Sports Commission Half Marathon two years ago, as it is right near the finish line for the race…and also very close to the start. So, it’s ideal, really. We got parked, gathered up everything and headed down to the staging area, in front of the KFC Yum Center. As we were crossing the street to go near the fountain, Natalie and Harry spotted us and yelled at us. We finished crossing and waited for them on the other side. They joined in and hugs were given. It feels like I lifetime since I had seen these two.
We all stood around for a little while…just talking and catching up. We spotted a woman dressed as a flapper (running gear style) and I thought it was fantastic. Then, to avoid port-a-potties…Harry, Natalie and I ducked over to the nearby Marriott to use their bathroom. I told you…I.AM.A.PRINCESS. Anyway…flushing toilets win every time. We met back where Cathy was holding down the fort and I snagged my banana to fuel…as we were 30 minutes out from the start of the race. Natalie had forgotten hers, but Cathy offered hers as she had other snacks for the day. We ate…we stretched…and eventually Harry and Natalie got out of their layers and just in their running gear. I was not wearing layers, LOL. So…I just had to hand over my hoodie.
Gear check was up next for them, so I wandered that way and while Natalie was in line, Harry and I stood to the side to chat a little. I was having a good time. The foot was a little…eh…but not bad. Taking it easy and just having a good run was all I wanted to do. It was all I needed to do. As Harry and I were turning to move onto the sidewalk, my friend who had been training for it was there. Just…there. She said a quick, quiet, “Hi” and turned away before I could utter anything other than “Hi” back. I wanted to at least wish her luck…didn’t have the chance.
From there….it was time to hit that starting corral. I stretched a little more, got a hug from Cathy as she was going to go get positioned at the start line to see us off, and then we stepped inside. The corral system has no system other than everyone gets inside. No pace groups. Nothing. Just find a spot and keep moving. I did a couple more stretches, was found by running friend Dennis (who I knew I couldn’t hang with because he all-out runs everything!), but we talked, waved to other people we knew, and then the National Anthem was played, beautifully, on a horn. I mean…beautiful. And with that…the starting gun went off…and so did we.
We made our way toward the start line before the initial jog started…then after we crossed…it was on. Cathy was on the sideline making noise and we waved as we passed…and immediately went around a turn. I wasn’t expecting that. HA! Usually these races that start in front of the Yum Center go straight down Main Street. Nope…the immediate turn onto 2nd Street sort of threw me for a loop. But…you just move with the crowd and go. We also dodged a police car and ended up hopping up on the sidewalk for some of that first mile. This is typical. The course is always crowded at the start and we just wanted to get into the groove. I let Natalie set the pace and off we went. The foot twinged only a couple of times. But I was laughing and having some fun. That was the point.
We made another turn onto E Mohammad Ali Blvd and the course opened up…a little. This was going to take us over to Lexington Road, sort of on the back side of Cave Hill Cemetery. I never really ran over there that much, so as we are going, I can’t help but comment about how I had no idea where we were, except that we were near Cave Hill. Once the wall disappeared from the scenery, I was totally lost. But, I subscribe to the “just run where everyone else is going” method of racing (I am NEVER the person in the lead!), and that’s always worked out well for me. I knew that at some point we hit Cherokee Park, so I figured things would start to look familiar soon enough.
I was right. We were coming up the Beargrass Creek Greenway…and ahead was the entrance to Cherokee Park, which I have actually run a couple times. Hitting the park was like finally getting back in familiar territory, despite the fact that we run the Scenic Loop backwards. I hate doing the Scenic Loop backwards…but…eh…whatever. So, together we made our way through Mile 4, and then diverge off the Scenic Loop briefly to run to a turn-around spot. Natalie wasn’t carrying a fuel belt, so we were doing water stops for her. She grabbed water at Mile 5 and we continued on. What I didn’t realize was that after we got back onto the normal course, we were sent up Barret Hill Road. I have never run this road. It has the word hill in it…so…heh…you know…
I did not know what I was getting myself into. I hadn’t run hills since Twin Cities (and I walked most of those to save my foot). I told Natalie she was going to have to get me through it. And she was behind me the entire time, telling me to keep going, that I was almost there. This climb was crazy. I didn’t think it was going to end. But when I reached the top, I put my hands up in victory, and she came up a moment later and we were back on track. I was surprised how well I handled the hill, honestly. We eventually were led back to the Scenic Loop and as we followed it around, up the hill toward Hogan’s Fountain…things started to get a little rough for Natalie. She began to have some problems with her hips. Not sure if was a cramping issue or just the whole…battle she has waged this past year…we eased the pace. She was hoping for some Gatorade at the water stop ahead, but they had only water. Because it sounded like she needed electrolytes and stat…I gave her the bottle on my fuel belt with my Nuun in it. We kept on moving, trolling the hills of the park…partying at the top of Dog Hill and curving off, hitting Alexander Road and Mile 7. I hadn’t fueled yet and Natalie needed to fuel…so, I grabbed my Gu pack and my water. I downed my gel as if it were going out of style. Vanilla Bean. Yuck. Too sweet. Glad I discovered that then. Natalie has to take hers in slowly, so we jogged while she took it in doses so as not to upset her stomach. We polished off the fuel and headed out onto Cherokee Parkway.
She was really starting to hurt now. I could tell. We eased the pace some more and kept on pushing. Near the area where Cherokee Parkway meets Grinstead, I spotted Laura. I ran up to her and could see she wasn’t feeling all that well. I asked how she was and she said she was a little lightheaded, so she slowed her pace and took some of her chews to see if that would help. She was hoping to see Michael soon…(he was in 3 different places on the course!)…and would figure things out from there. After making sure she didn’t need anything, Natalie and I turned onto Grinstead and started down the other side of Cave Hill Cemetery.
Then…came her knee pain. It was enough to bring her to a walk. So…we walked a little bit, giving her some time to ease up on the impact, pressure, and allowing a bit of recovery. She chose a sign to pick up the pace again, and we did for as long as she could. She told me to go on without her, but I never leave a runner behind and I was going to see her to that finish line. I wasn’t running this for time…I was running this for distance. So, whatever the clock said was not important to me. Seeing my friend finish…that was important.
We kept this run walk method going throughout much of the last five miles. I would find myself getting ahead of her and I would double back and pick her up…keep moving with her…let her know she was doing well. Focus on anything else but what was bothering her. She had put her headphones in. I think her music was on. I didn’t care. I was going to get her to that finish line. As we rounded onto Baxter Avenue, you would think a party was going on. Mony Mony was blaring, runners were having a blast dancing to it…and we joined in. It was a great pump-you-up song and perfect timing as we were heading toward Mile 10…and the last 5K of the race. Natalie had said if she could get to Mile 10, she knew she could finish. I knew she would finish even if she walked there. But we hit Mile 10 (she was behaving and not looking at timing clocks or her watch the entire time!) and I told her…we were almost home.
We were now running toward downtown now. I knew this course well. I’d done this part a dozen times on training runs. I was bursting with the energy of the race and I found myself up ahead. I would turn my head and locate Natalie. If she had fallen behind…I would loop around…if she was just a bit behind me…I’d jog in place or slow down until she got back to where I was. And this was how it worked for the last 3 miles. She was a trooper. We wanted to cross that finish line together, so it was my duty to make that happen. Run…walk…run…walk…all the way through the turns for Mile 12. One mile to go. I held up 1 finger as encouragement…and we went…down Main Street. I ran…I stopped to wait for her…I got her going. We were close. The crowd was getting louder. The finish line was ahead. I could see it. I could see it. She was struggling, so I reached back and took her hand. And together…we headed to that finish line, one step at a time…and crossed at the same time.
It was the perfect ending to the race. Natalie and I hugged. She stopped her watch and I stopped mine. And she said she PR’d by 5 minutes. Holy freakin’ cow!! I told her, “See what happens when you stop worrying about time and just go out and enjoy the run?” She nodded. She was hurting, but we moved through the finish area, collecting our medals and our foils. More hugs. I dropped her off at the First Aid tent…as she needed some ice for her knee. I continued on to meet up with Cathy, collecting some grapes, water, and chocolate milk along the way.
Harry, Me, and Natalie showing off our bling after running the Urban Bourbon Half Marathon, Louisville, Kentucky
I was so damn proud of Natalie. She really just pushed through and managed to achieve a new personal best without even trying. This is why I run every race for fun. Anything can happen on race day…so going in without high expectations means that I enjoy it and often do better than anticipated. I met up with Cathy and did a bit of stretching. I had the opportunity to talk with my friend Brant (who was pacing a friend of his through his first half marathon!) for a bit…and then we went to find Natalie and Harry for pictures. They were going for pizza afterwards for their recovery lunch. Cathy and I hit up Whole Foods for soup…keeping it light because that evening we were meeting up with her sister, Amanda, to eat Indian food at Shalimar and then go on the Pumpkin Walk at Iroquois Park (which was AMAZING and I want to do it again next year!).
So, as it stands, I finished the Urban Bourbon Half Marathon in 2:00:21, crossing that finish line hand-in-hand with Natalie. Honestly…I still smile. I was 837/2777 finishers. I was 283/1553 women to cross the finish line. And I was 59/298 in my division. I’ll take it. Because this was not a run for time. This was a run to just enjoy…train…see how the foot would hold up. And I ended up helping my friend to an amazing finish. I wouldn’t have traded that for the world.
I am a bit behind on blogging these days…but it just seems everything is spiraling into chaos at the moment. I’ve been so busy. And the main reason is…
…THE NEW YORK CITY MARATHON IS ON SUNDAY!!
Granted, I’ve run a full marathon and a half marathon only since my injury in July. The foot did awful coming out of the marathon, but the half marathon…I felt great. I needed that. I didn’t race it…I ran with a friend…and I got to that finish line without having any issues with the foot.
PROGRESS!
That being said…no training has happened. I took a full 2 weeks off from any activity after I ran Twin Cities…and slowly began to resume gym machines, swimming, and some mild cardio. But not running. The foot was hurting. As it began to ease…I worked in a week of short 1 mile runs…
Then I was given a free entry into a local half marathon…so I decided if I ran easy and just focused on a run/walk plan…I could do it. Besides, I sort of needed a double-digit run before hitting the streets of New York, right? Well…it went well. I’ll write on that more next week…
For now…I’m packing…doing laundry…and just getting things together because tomorrow…I am flying out to New York City because on Sunday…I am going to be running through the 5 boroughs. I will also be taking pictures along the way. I can’t run what I didn’t train for…so time to just take in New York.
On an interesting note, the 1 millionth finisher is expected to cross the finish line this year…around 4:00-4:10. Hmmm…
Until then…THIS…is what keeps me super psyched. Check it out…because I’ve been watching it every day to get psyched to run, run, run!!
A very good friend, Jen Greunke, from one of my running groups randomly posted something today on Facebook. She simply said:
“Here’s the ugly truth: there will be people in your life that will always let you down, people that no matter how much you want something for them, they can’t find the desire and courage within themselves to want it for themselves. You can not help everyone. Sometimes the people you want to help the most are often the most difficult. Sometimes the people you want something for just aren’t ready…they may never be ready. Here’s the part you HAVE to understand: just because you can’t help those people does NOT mean you’re not helping people. There will be people who make promises, people who say they’re going to do something and then break those promises and fail on what they say. Keep trying anyway. Life isn’t about the hurt but about the happiness and joy in the people you CAN help because they WANT to be helped.”
I read her post over a few times and it all just sort of hit home with me. I’m notorious for caring way too much…about people…about what other people think about me…about how I am perceived by others. And all of this came to a stressful and explosive head this past weekend for me. The matter is personal, but the basic gist of the tale is this…
I cared too damn much again. And in the end, all I got was hurt. I trust the wrong people. I believe people won’t be hurtful. And sometimes…I’m wrong. I’m just wrong. When things are said to me…about me…that are so off-base with the person I am…well…it makes me take a good long, hard look at myself and my life. It made me really think…long and hard…about the people in my life…and what they do FOR me. Do they lift me up when I’m down…or simply compare their woes to mine? Do they make me smile or do they pull me further down? Do they support me or do they hold me back? Do they truly know me or did they never bother to look past the surface in the first place? Yes…people let me down and people hurt me…even when I’ve done whatever possible to help them and get them through tough times. But you know what? I also let myself down and I often find myself thinking negatively about who I am…what I do…how I look. It’s a never ending cycle…and it’s also very human.
This has been a pretty damn hard summer for me this year. Starting in July, my foot flared up, for no reason…and has yet to get back to normal. I rested it for two months…I got othodics…I got hurt by the orthodics…I put on weight…I stressed…I went swimming to not put pressure on my foot at all…I gave up my cardio sessions for lifting weights…none of this was as satisfying as the run. It made me cranky…it made me restless…it made me angry…at life…at God…at my body. I felt betrayed by my own body…lost. And it sucked.
And people…very good people…some I know in person and some only via some close groups I met via Facebook…gave me their shoulders, their advice, their love. And while the words they say didn’t always make me smile and didn’t sugar coat the situation, I trusted them. And they helped me believe in myself again.
But demons…they are tricky.
Demons…as in the internal kind. Those little parasites in your mind. Those thoughts and words that make you give up and give in. I SURRENDER!! I can’t do this. I’ll never get back to my racing shape. I hate the person I am right now. I don’t like myself. Say what you like, but self-hatred is a hard beast to slay. And when you grew up with low self-esteem, and as an adult still have issues with how you perceive yourself because a part of you will never see that you’re beautiful, or good at this, or strong at that…well…those little thoughts become a huge problem.
And days like today…that huge problem feels larger than life.
As I was making my initial comeback, I was doing better. Negative thoughts were there, my speed was slower than I liked, but I was out there. And when the custom orthodics created another big problem in my recovery and comeback, the setback was enough to bring me to tears. I was supposed to be getting better…not worse. How can something that was meant to help me end up hurting me?
Yeah…I had some Nancy Kerrigan “Why me?!” syndrome going on. It happens. Thankfully there are people in my life who snapped me out of it. Those are the people I need. The people who know I’m stressed out and take the peanut butter jar and spoon away from me and tell me to do some fucking yoga instead…
The go-getters. The can-doers. The glass is half full so drink it down and start again-ers.
I site my friends Heather Dillon and Cathy Dailey for recent events. I was set to run the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon in Minneapolis, Minnesota. The days leading up to the race left me with no training runs due to the orthodics being wrong and leaving my foot throbbing and aching worse than when it was initially inflamed. All the way to Minnesota and throughout the day before the race, I kept saying I didn’t think I could do it. There was no way I could run it. I wasn’t trained. I hadn’t been able to run or train. I didn’t want to get hurt…
And they nodded and simply said, “You can do it” and “You will do it” and “When you finish…”
Positive reinforcement. Suddenly, not running it didn’t seem like an option. And held together by KT Tape, determination, good friends along the way, and a whole lot of prayer…I toed that start line and even made it to the finish line. It wasn’t the race I wanted it to be. I walked more than I wanted to, but when you can’t train to run that distance, you can’t expect to just go out and run that distance. Lots of walking…but I had no shame in it. I cried a lot on that race course. And when I crossed that finish line, as sore as my body felt, I was really damn proud of myself and so grateful for so many things: the strangers on the sidelines who encouraged me when I had to walk, for my family for being there, for two of my running friends for the hugs on the race course, for Heather and Cathy…because I might not have gotten up that morning without their encouragement and belief in me and my abilities. Or, their belief in me…when I was doubting it all.
The fact of the matter is…we all have dragons to slay and demons to fight. And sometimes…it’s not an easy battle to win. Trust me. I’ve been on a roller coaster of emotions since July. I’m still fighting my way through it. This comeback kid was starting to fall back. The comeback was no longer sweet…but sour. All my fight and perseverance…was turning into just giving up and giving in. It’s hard to fight what seems and feels like a battle that you just can’t win. I make progress…and then fall back. Two steps forward, three steps back. It gets tiresome after awhile. And you finally just have enough.
Thankfully…while I gave up on myself and my abilities…not everyone did. These people HELPED me. And I wouldn’t be typing this today if they hadn’t been there through all the darkness. Some people have turned away, let me fight my own battle, but some people lift their own shields and weapons and stand strong with me…because while I feel like a quitter…I’m not going to quit. And they know that while I might be in a dark place right now…I have a spark inside of me…and when it finally flares…well…the comeback will be complete.
Demons will be banished and dragons slayed…
As for my comeback…the process is slow. I have the New York City Marathon in 19 days…and have yet to feel confident about my run. In fact, wisely enough, I have taken over a week off to allow my body to heal from the strain of the Twin Cities Marathon. My limp is gone. My foot still hurts, but it is manageable. And that’s why I haven’t set out to run…because…I don’t want to make it unmanageable again. I do my ankle exercises and my foot exercises and every day I wake up hoping to feel a little bit better than the day before.
My friend, Julie Larson, a fellow runner who is coming back from surgery, posted a quote this morning on her Facebook page. It struck home. It said:
“At some point you have to stop making a comeback and start running toward who you are meant to be.” – Lauren Fleshman
It really just struck a chord with me. I want to make a comeback, of course, but first…I think I need to rediscover myself. I need to just…do this for me for awhile. Not times, not races, not miles…but just…for me. I let myself down, but it doesn’t mean that I have to stay down. Time to get back up, dust myself off, and try it again. Time to stop letting others and my own self-doubt and self-hate bring me down. Time to learn the art of patience. Because, everything takes time. And the greatest accomplishments aren’t achieved overnight. Patience really is a virtue and it’s something I’m going to work on.
The rest…will all fall into place and come together. Yes…very recently I have felt let down, betrayed, hurt and lost. And some of it has been due to others, but a lot of it has been because of me. Time to refocus. Time to keep believing…in what I do and who I am. And when I falter, because I’m human and it will happen, I at least know I’m in good hands…with friends who know me and take me for who I am…but refuse to let me give up.
Me heading for the Finish Line of the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon, Minneapolis/St. Paul, Minnesota
Race: Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon
Place: Minneapolis/St. Paul, Minnesota
Date: October 5, 2014
Time:3:51:52
“One thing about racing is that it hurts. You better accept that from the beginning or you’re not going anywhere.” – Bob Kennedy
Pushing through the pain is not my style. Doing damage to myself is not something I strive to do. I don’t believe in pushing myself to the point of puking when it comes to running. My body is my temple and I am trying, through this blasted foot injury, to keep it moving, going, and getting strong. The last thing on my to-do list is…get hurt…more/again.
So…this was certainly on my mind when I boarded a plane to Minneapolis, Minnesota last Friday. Honestly. My custom orthodics were doing more damage and causing more pain than they should have been. I had been in to see the podiatrist twice since getting them, and had them readjusted. I was still limping throughout the day…something that got worse as I moved about the Louisville airport. I’m sure part of that was the 15 pound backpack I was carrying around, but it seemed the more I stepped, the worse it got. And thanks to that fire at the air traffic control tower in Chicago, the flight leaving Louisville was delayed by 2 hours. And then…once we got to Midway, we had another delay, which wouldn’t put is in Minneapolis until past midnight. I hated to do this to my aunt, Jan, who graciously was coming out to get us…but that’s how air travel through Chicago is currently working. And it sucked.
That being said, the security line in Louisville was non-existent for a Friday. Barely any wait time. And then the delay meant we had plenty of time to kill. So, Cathy and I decided we would find something to eat for dinner. We were originally going to do that at Midway…but…now it made sense to do it here. Cathy ended up getting some soup from Chili’s and I ate an apple and a gluten-free granola bar that I brought with me. I figured it could at least hold me to Midway, right? Right. Then, I got out my Moji 360 Mini Massager and had Cathy help me roll it across the bottom of my foot, which is where most of the pain was happening at that moment. It hurt…like…a lot. It would have to do for the time being. We walked around a bit more (there is only so much to do at the Louisville airport…trust me)…until we finally got to line up to get on the plane. Guess what? I was A1. HAHA! First on the plane after the special boarding for those traveling alone or in need of assistance. Awesome. On Southwest Airlines…the closer to the front of the plane, the better. Even if I knew we were in no hurry to catch a flight at Midway. It was the fact that for the first (and probably only) time…I was A1.
Thumbs down for left foot pain at the airport on the way to Minneapolis. This is one very unhappy runner…
The flight to Midway was dull and uninteresting, which is how I prefer flights. Even the landing was smooth and perfect. We disembarked and went to check the screen. Yes…definitely delayed. So…time to do more hiking around. As we were doing so, I started limping even more. My foot was killing me. Cathy made a suggestion…telling me to take the orthodic out of my left shoe, since it seemed to be doing more harm than good. I had no inserts for my shoe…but, I figured it couldn’t hurt any worse, and if it did, I could put the orthodic back in. It actually offered a small amount of relief. Just a little. But it was definitely more tolerable. I just want to interject that the orthodics were supposed to help me move pain-free. These particular ones fail. On the Wednesday before leaving, I had gone back in for further adjustment on the orthodic for that foot and my podiatrist ended up calling the orthodic place and telling them he had an elite marathoner and they suggested recasting the orthodic, but with some posts that will give more stability and can be adjusted. Problem…they wouldn’t be in before I left for Minneapolis. So, we went over how to tape the shit out of my foot for stability and he wished me luck. He didn’t tell me not to do it…which I appreciated it…but not being able to do it was definitely weighing heavy on my mind as I hobbled through the terminals of Midway in Chicago. To amuse ourselves, Cathy and I did spot a really cute sailor in the navy…and stalked him for a little while. He was gorgeous. But…we lost him after he ducked into a bakery place. Dang. We grabbed a small snack and settled in on the floor of our gate to wait on the plane coming in so we could then board it and fly to Minnesota.
And when it finally happened, I was tired and cranky. I took the front row of the plane, shoving my bag in the overhead compartment for the extra leg room instead. I fell in and out of consciousness…long day…having been up since 3:30 a.m. to finish packing and get to my spin class at the gym by 5:15 a.m. But…as I drifted back into consciousness…the clouds now looked like some crazy test pattern…and Cathy pointed out that it WAS SNOWING! SNOW! I don’t even like the sound of it. You guys all know that me and cold weather are like oil and water. We just don’t work well together. SNOW!! UGH!! Thankfully, it was only snow above the clouds…because as we finally began our descent into Minneapolis, it was rain. Just rain. Thank goodness. But…DAMN…it was cold. When I had packed for the race, my weather channel app still told me race morning would be in the low 40s. But now it was in the 30s. I wasn’t really prepared for weather in the 30s for running, so I said if I had to I would purchase something to wear at the expo on Saturday morning. That was the plan.
Jan found us at the baggage claim, and thankfully the bags didn’t take too long to come through. We were off to the car, then making our way to my grandpa’s house. She had the room set up, and Cathy took the air mattress. I set an alarm for 7:30 a.m. and made plans with my friend, Heather, to get together for the expo. She was going to pick Cathy and I up at my grandpa’s home in the morning and we would go and get my race packet and check out the expo. I figured we’d go from there…probably returning home. But first…sleep.
Saturday morning came and I was up with my alarm. I heard my grandpa moving about and ended up settling in on the couch. He asked if I wanted to go play Bingo with him at the grocery store. I normally would…but I was still in my pajamas and not in any way ready to go out in public. I hadn’t even had breakfast (which Jan was kind enough to hit up the Cub Foods the night before to get me some gluten-free bagels, vegan cream cheese, and some Greek yogurt)…so he went off without me. I ate some yogurt while toasting the bagels in the oven (no cross-contamination!). Cathy and I ate breakfast, got dressed, brushed teeth and made ourselves presentable. I grabbed the race packet that arrived in the mail with my Bib Number and Corral listed. And then we waited for Heather. Heather texted around the time she was going to leave and said she was running late…so we just sort of settled. Grandpa returned from Bingo, having won a $10 gift card to the grocery store. My aunt emerged from her basement living space and she and Grandpa prepared to head out to some Man Cave car show thing. They gave me a house key, in case we made it back before them, and they went off.
Heather arrived soon after and Cathy and I locked up the house and climbed into the car. Heather took us into Saint Paul and we parked in a street lot, which was supposedly $10, but due to it being the weekend, ended up being only $4. WOOHOO! Love it. We made our way from the car to the Saint Paul RiverCentre where the Health and Wellness Expo was being hosted. We ducked inside and made our way toward the back where the race packets were being handed out. I was…actually surprised. The expo was really massive. Much bigger than any of the much smaller expos I have gone through in Minnesota. This wasn’t quite Chicago size…but it was really massive with a lot of vendors. I spotted the Newton booth and knew I needed some new shoes (not to wear on Sunday…but in general)…and made a note to stop by there. The race packet was important and I stepped up near the first line as I was Bib #1306 and in the first corral to be sent off. NICE! Just wish I felt like I belonged there. Damn foot. The volunteer checked my race information packet and my ID before retrieving my bag, which contained a pair of socks…no race shirt. I was…sad. I really was. All of this and no race shirt??!! I handed the bag over to Cathy and pulled out my envelope with the chip I needed to attach to my shoe so I could go and run it over the sensor to make sure it was activated. It worked. Time to shop.
I actually didn’t go too crazy here. The three of us methodically worked our way up and down the aisles, grabbing free samples and playing a few giveaway games. That’s how I won Minute Rice. And a cowbell. LOL! Cathy actually told me to win the cowbell…and when I spun the wheel…I just happened to land on that spot. Go me. The same thing happened at the Minute Rice booth. I guess I was lucky on Saturday. We stocked up on freebies…checked out some races that were represented, and just kept moving. Since I had no race shirt, I had to duck into the merchandise area and purchase one. I wasn’t really happy with the meager selection left in my size…but found a couple that I liked. I bought one…and, being the awesome BFF that she is, Heather got me the other one as a belated birthday gift. We grabbed some free Caribou Coffee and headed out.
Heather taking me on a drive through the race route the afternoon before. SO helpful!
Heather had a really great idea…to drive as much of the course that we possibly could…depending on road closures. With my foot not feeling great, I was still not certain I’d be able to race or run…but thought this was a good way to take a look at what lay ahead of me. We quickly ducked into a record store for Cathy to check out some stuff, and then headed out to get back to Minneapolis and drive from start to finish. This was the first time I had ever done this, but it gave me a chance to get a feel for the areas I would be taking on the following morning. We started off, with the understanding that I would walk the hills and run the rest of it. This was the plan. So…off we went. And, let me tell you, there were plenty of hills that awaited me. But the tour of the course was one of the best things I ever did. And with Heather as a guide, I knew when to just really take in my surroundings, which side I needed to be on, and what points she and Cathy were going to attempt to see me along the way the next morning. This took a bit of time, but we got it done and it was really good to have all of that in mind.
My cousin, Molly, was working with Jan to get a dinner together with some of the family. We were going to check out Pizza Luce, which is one of the area’s highest rated pizza place…and yes…they have a gluten-free pizza. Naturally. After the disaster that was Pizza Ranch the last time I raced in Minneapolis…this was hopefully going to be better. We arrived early, so ducked over to Target because I needed some cheap throwaway gloves for the cold morning on Sunday. After that, we returned to Pizza Luce and joined my cousin Molly, her hubby, her three kids, my cousin Andy and his wife…and my aunt arrived last. We were seated (thanks to Molly making a reservation) very quickly and all just started talking. It had been over a year since I was last up there (I ran the Lake Minnetonka Half Marathon the last time) and we had so much to talk about. Molly had just had a baby a couple months ago and Andy had just gotten married. So…yeah…lots happening. We all ordered some food (Cathy, Heather, and I hadn’t had anything since breakfast so we were hungry and it was after 5 pm now). I ended up getting the Gluten Free Wild Mushroom and Arugula Pizza and split it with Cathy. It was really good. We didn’t linger too long afterwards. It had been a long day, I was tired and sore, Heather needed to get home, and I still had to go see my cousin Natalie, who was coming by my grandpa’s house. So we all went our separate ways, with Molly and Co. heading to grandpa’s as well for a little while…YAY! It was good to get together with my cousins. And Natalie wore her “I Run Marathons” shirt (even though she doesn’t…but said it felt appropriate!). We sat and talked and played with the kids…until it was time to turn in. Cathy remembered to really tape the hell out of my foot, ankle, and calf that night…so I was pretty well set for the early morning that awaited us.
Cathy’s mummification of my foot/ankle/leg for better stability. It worked!
At 4:00 a.m. my first alarm went off. I got up and got some stuff together…did my normal first alarm routine…then went back to sleep for a little longer. In that short span of time, I had a dream about the race and being the last person across the start line. Craziness. At 5:00 a.m…the actual alarm went off. I got up to get the oven preheated and to get changed into my race clothes. As it was really flippin’ cold up outside…after I suited up, I put my yoga pants back on and went ahead and put on my hoodie. I changed that out for my fleece I brought, just in case, before we left. I realized that morning that I didn’t have my cereal with me to eat pre-race, so I decided, if this race happened, I would be run-walking it…then having something different that morning couldn’t hurt too much. So, it was Greek yogurt with a gluten-free bagel and vegan cream cheese. I ate slowly, so as not to upset my tummy and just sort of flexed my foot a little…trying to decide if I was going to do it or not. In the end…I was dressed and fed, so I grabbed a banana, my fuel belt, and we left my grandpa’s house in my aunt’s car and headed into the city.
Finding parking was actually not a problem. I was surprised. Cathy located a great parking garage that was close to the start without being one that would be hell to get out of later. Love that. We parked and headed out into the cold Minnesota air, hearing the announcer talk about the start of the 10 Mile race, or as they like to call it…the “Shortcut to the Capitol” was gearing up to leave. Runners for the 10 Miler were getting in their corrals, so we headed over that way to see them off. Got there just as the National Anthem was finishing up and soon…Corral 1 was off. Just like that. We felt a bit in the way…so after a few clangs of a cowbell and some cheering, we meandered back to where the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon was going to start. There was going to be a Marathon Maniac’s picture at the entrance of Corral 3…but I didn’t make it back that way in time. Instead, I peeled my banana…and began moving up again through the corrals. And, just as we were getting up to where the Start Line was…here comes Heather! YAY! She had texted/called my phone, which I had given to Cathy so I didn’t obsess over it, but somehow Cathy missed it. Regardless…she found us just in time. We moved through the onslaught of runners heading in the opposite direction so that she and Cathy could find a spot to stand to see me off. They found a great spot too, just past the media on the corner. We took a few pictures with the Start Line…and then I finally had to shed my warm jacket and pants…and start getting acclimated. I got hugs from both and got some photos snapped so they could post them on Facebook…and then…I was off to get situated in Corral 1.
I am not going to lie…I was freezing. I moved to the back of the corral to start…but then ended up moving up little-by-little until I found an open spot somewhere in the middle near the left side. I promised that I would stretch when I got in my corral, and I kept that promise. If there is one thing I have learned, it is how powerful and important that stretching is. As I was finishing that up, I heard a “Hi Maniac!” coming from behind me. For the record, I was wearing my Marathon Maniac’s singlet. Anyway…it was a very nice guy, also a member of the Marathon Maniacs, and he said that I looked cold. I told him I was cold and he laughed and said I must not be from Minnesota. Very observant. HA! We chatted for a bit, and then he went in search of more Maniacs. I decided I didn’t like being that far back in the corral and moved up some more…and then some more…and a little bit more. I just got settled in a new spot when the announcer came on and welcomed us to the race. The National Anthem was sung, off key, but it was there…and then…we were sent off at exactly 8:00 a.m.
It didn’t take too long for me to cross that start line and I immediately hung at the left so I could see Cathy and Heather. I did…and they were loud and cheered just as loud for me. This was the first time in over a week that I had ventured out for a run. Seriously. And I wasn’t sure what my foot would do. The anti-inflammatory I took that morning seemed to be doing its job. There was a slight bit of pain…but nothing I hadn’t run through before. I was off…and starting the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon – which is known as The Most Beautiful Urban Marathon in America.
My strategy was simple…run when I could…walk when I had to…and if I had to crawl…I’d do that…but I committed to running this by crossing that start line, and I would do my best to see the race to the finish. I told Cathy that morning, I wasn’t sure I could finish…and not to get mad if I dropped out. She said she wouldn’t be mad, but she wanted to be sure I wouldn’t be mad at myself. I was certain I would be…but if I hurt, I wasn’t going to do further damage to myself. The goal was to treat this as training…and that was my entire goal. In fact, I started off at a very easy pace, I thought…but I realized my first mile was sub-8…so I backed off on that second mile and relaxed. I didn’t worry about pace or anything else…I just ran how I felt. That was the only thing I could do.
Prior to this race, I had managed to do one training run of 13.1 miles, on the day after my birthday. That was a good 3 weeks prior to this run. I struggled, having not run any double digit runs since July. I told myself I would go mile-by-mile and just assess how I was feeling. If anything, I could at least get halfway through. I had done it before…albeit on a foot that hurt less…but the more I was out there, the more I loosened up and the better I felt. I hit the 5K mark at 25:23…not great, but not bad for someone who has barely run. The next gauge was the 10K mark and that came just after we ran around the second lake on the course. Let me take a moment here to say that this course is stunning. Gorgeous. The leaves are changing in Minnesota…bright oranges and reds…all canopied overhead as you take to the streets of the city. People were everywhere to cheer. There wasn’t really a lull in the crowds at all throughout the entire thing. And the energy was just what I needed that morning. I hit the 10K mark at 50:02. And kept on going. I was really just loving the run. I was feeling okay…minor pain if any…and taking it all in. I just kept moving…and as I was making the turn at Mile 11…Heather and Cathy were there…and they were just screaming! That was just what I needed then, and I smiled, waved, and on I went. They were heading to Mile 17…as we previously discussed. Mile 11 was a nice surprise.
Mile 17 Cheer Squad: Paul, Heather, Grandpa, Jan (not pictured: Cathy…who took the pic)
Perseverance and sheer stubbornness propelled me through to the halfway point. I hit the 13.1 mile mark at 1:46:10…which is rather good, if you’re asking me. I knew that had been the furthest I had managed to train, so my common sense kicked in, and I chose to run the second half with my head…not my heart. This meant, slow the pace, walk the hills, just keep going forward. And, I immediately did just that. I turned what had started as a beautiful and nearly perfect run into a walk-run. I walked the hills. I walked when my feet hurt. I ran in between. I just started to push myself to play this smart. The last thing I needed to do was get injured again or aggravate something even further. Yes…I am aware that running a marathon was probably not the best way to avoid this…but this one was important. And as I ran…then walked…then ran through the next few miles…the reason I was out there finally made an appearance.
It was Mile 17. I knew Heather and Cathy were going to be there. But what I saw as I headed just past the Clif Shot Energy Zone was more than this little bucket of emotions could handle. There, clapping, making some noise…and just being the epitome of awesome…was my peeps. Cathy, Heather, my friend Paul, my aunt Jan…and yes…grandpa! Finally, my grandpa was well enough to make it out to see me run. I was just thankful that at that point I was running. HAHA! I picked up the pace when I saw them. I picked it up more as I heard them. And I touched my heart and held my arms up to them as I ran past. It wasn’t sunny at that point, but I was thankful to have my sunglasses on, because when I saw my grandpa standing there, I cried. Tears. Just…gone. I took a few deep breaths and regained my composure. I had 9 more miles ahead of me until I saw my peeps again…as I knew that at least Cathy and Heather would be at the finish line. Time to dig deep, dig in, and finish what I started.
The next two miles ran parallel to the Mississippi River. At Mile 19, we crossed over the river via a bridge and started down the other side. I knew that at Mile 20.5, my friend Kristen was stationed, having run the 10 miler that morning. She said she’d watch for me, and knowing that she was waiting was what propelled me onward. I also knew that around Mile 20, the beginning of epic 200 foot climb over the next 3 miles was about to begin. I saw the water station ahead and suddenly, Kristen, clad all in green, shouted. I was thrilled and ran over to her. We hugged…and she told me I looked great and to keep going. I did. How could I not after getting a hug when I was feeling so down? It lifted my spirits and my mood. I really needed that.
But the hugging and love didn’t stop there. Nope. Another friend of mine, Julie, was a course marshal between Miles 22-23. And she somehow managed to spot me in the crowd as well. I heard her shout and looked up…and rushed over to her for more hugs. She again sent me on my way, saying that I looked good and was doing great. I love my friends. Honestly. When I was struggling…when I was beating myself up…someone…a friend or a stranger…was there to encourage me. Even those simply spectating…when I’d start to walk a hill, I would hear, “Good job 1306! One foot in front of the other. Keep going. You’re almost there. Proud of you!” I teared up a few times. This race was an emotional roller coaster for me.
But, I was close now. I was within the last 5K. I kept saying I would just run the entire way, but the run-walk intervals had taken their toll and my legs were really starting to feel it. My feet hurt…and I was just determined at this point to finish. I wasn’t doing this one for time…this one was for me. This one was for my grandpa! This one was training. It had to be! The next few miles ticked by…slow and steady…and as I came into the heart of St. Paul, the crowds lifted me up and carried me that last mile. I was getting closer. I could hear the announcer. Down a hill and straight on to the finish line. I saw Heather and Cathy on my right and they were screaming for me. I held my hands up against my chest in the shape of a heart as I started to cry again. Honestly, friends see you through so much in life. I was hoping to see my grandpa there again, but my aunt took him home. The finish was ahead, so after I passed them I focused on making it to that line. I crossed…in a miraculous 3:51:52.
How I pulled that off is beyond me…but as I walked away from the camera…the tears flowed. Yep…I cried…and hobbled through the finisher’s area. I was handed my medal, which was placed around my neck. I was given a Mylar blanket and some water. A banana. Salty snacks…and urged toward the area for the finisher photographs. From there…I got my Finisher’s t-shirt. Yes…this is brilliant. At the Twin Cities Marathon, you don’t get your finisher’s shirt until you…*gasp*…FINISH! Great incentive, yes? I got through with that and managed to find the Caribou Coffee tent. I got a cup of coffee…because it’s Caribou Coffee and I was still cold. You know I am still cold when I cross a marathon finish line still wearing my makeshift arm warmers and my toss away gloves. HA! And then, I slowly started to make my way to the Family Reunion Area. My feet hurt. My entire body hurt. But I was done. I had done it…despite having my own doubts about my abilities.
As I was making my way up the incline toward the Letter X (our standard go-to for meeting), a man handed me a plastic bag to put all the stuff that runners get in the finishing area. I thanked him and was able to make my way up a little easier now. Cathy spotted me, dropped her sign and came running my way to give me a hug. I started crying again. She said she was so proud of me and we walked up to where Heather was holding down the fort. More hugs and high praise! I was on Cloud Nine! We laid out my Mylar blanket and I sat down. Cathy went to work changing my shoes from my Newtons to my Adidas Boosts and getting me straight into compression socks.
Cathy, Me, and Heather after the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon in Minneapolis/St. Paul, Minnesota
And, for a moment, my elation…my joy…went away. A quick glance at my cell phone…where I was showered with so many words of encouragement and love and people telling me how proud they were of me…and one person made it all seem so…meaningless. I set my phone down…took a deep breath…and listened to Heather and Cathy about letting it go. I did something remarkable…and to focus only on that. Then they started bragging about me to people. Seriously, these two are awesome! Heather helped stretch me out and get my legs up after she called the restaurant we were looking at for a possible place to eat lunch. My stomach wanted nothing to do with food at the moment, but I knew in about 30 minutes I’d need something. Perfect timing…they said they were in between rushes.
We hung on the lawn for a moment more, then headed down the streets of St. Paul to meet up with…Paul…who was back from his Mile 17 appearance and ready to join us for some celebratory pub grub (which is starting to become a tradition…either that or Mexican). I went into the bathroom and changed and joined my friends for some amazing food. Recovery was happening. After we ate and split THE BEST DESSERT EVER…we went our separate ways. I went back to grandpa’s house to shower and then we headed to the Mall of America…because I needed to keep moving and what better place to get your walk on? I ended up treating myself to a new dress from the former Bettie Page store (now called Tatyana). I rock this dress! Thanks for making me try it on, Heather! After shopping, we went our separate ways. It was, honestly, worth every doubt that ever came into my mind.
My official time for the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon was 3:51:52. I was 2351 out of 8852 finishers overall. I was the 712/3996 female to cross the finish line. And I was 145/703 in my age division to finish. Not too shabby at all. Is it the race I wanted? Certainly not. But it was my favorite marathon to date for so many reasons. Mostly…because despite being unable to perform up to my potential…I never gave up…and there were people who saw me through. Not just those I knew…but strangers too. And there is something so uplifting and so…amazing about that in the end. Most of all, I’m glad that the third time was the charm, and my grandpa finally had a chance to see me run. He has run the Twin Cities Marathon quite a few times, so this one was special in that aspect too!
And now…it’s all about recovery…because NYC awaits…
My grandpa, Howard A. Brady, in his 1993 Twin Cities Marathon Finisher’s shirt and medal and me in my 2014 gear! Running…it’s a generational thing!
“It’s very hard in the beginning to understand that the whole idea is not to beat the other runners. Eventually you learn that the competition is against the little voice inside you that wants you to quit.” -George Sheehan
I am a beautiful work in progress.
Right?
I try to keep telling myself this, but there are moments of the day, when the doubts about my ability to run…run like the wind…run like I used to…they all just creep into my brain and it’s hard to get past that negativity. I guess I got so used to people telling me as of late that “I can’t” do this and “I shouldn’t” do this…and those little bits of negative talk are really starting to take hold in my brain. The fighter inside me has been struggling. I’m starting to hear those “can’ts and “won’ts” and…you know…I’m starting to really believe that any sort of comeback…isn’t going to happen.
This…is it.
For anyone who has suffered an athletic injury (or an injury of any sort), you may know what I’m talking about. I get discouraged so easily these days. I go out for a run, and at the slightest inkling of pain, I slow…I stop…I don’t push. I don’t want to be where I was 2 months ago. I don’t want to be able to only lift weights and swim. I don’t love weights or swimming. I love to run. But, right now, it’s hard to love something when most everyone tells you that you’re going about it wrong or that you just shouldn’t be doing it. I should be running…because I can run. My podiatrist gave me permission to run. I’m building into it via an altered training plan from the NYRR…with much slower paces and much easier distances/runs. And I thought I was okay with this…until I was told I wasn’t being smart about my comeback.
Lately, every post I have made has been followed by the simple sentiment of “#comebackkid.” Because, honestly, this injury warrants its own hashtag. In a sense, it’s not even an injury. My foot became inflamed. No stress fracture, like originally thought…just pain. Enough that I couldn’t run and sometimes could hardly walk. I’ve never been off running for that long and it was hard. I felt like I was losing fitness, because any cardio save for laps in the swimming pool was not allowed. I was placed on an anti-inflammatory and after a week…I was told I could resume running. It was painful. Every single run for 30 days was still twinging and hurting. I wasn’t running as fast…or as hard…or even really following the altered plan. I was just…doing some miles. And this past Friday, as my prescription was coming up for refill, I called my podiatrist and told him the prescription wasn’t working. I was still hurting. He gave me samples of a different medicine to try. I started it on Saturday morning.
Saturday morning…
I was meeting up with my friends Matthew, Patrick, and Brant for a 13.1 mile run. Birthday half marathon, woohoo! No medal…just a run. A simple…easy…run. I had purchased new shoes…because so many people said that when they had foot pain, this particular brand, Hoka’s, helped. I wore them out…my feet felt unwieldy and…rather clown-like. I tried to ignore the Bozo-factor and just see if these did anything to help my foot. The four of us set out…and I immediately fell behind. Matthew was gracious enough to stick it out at my pace. By Mile 5, I told him I was ready to stop and call my roommate to come and pick me up…but he talked me through it and in the end…with only one walk break around Mile 11, he got me through all of those miles. Honestly, I couldn’t have finished that run without him. Sweaty hugs followed. I was so glad he was there. I would have been left in the dust by Patrick and Bryant. I’m not there yet. I hope to get there soon.
Saturday morning was heart-wrenching. A half marathon used to be nothing for me. And here I was, struggling to make it. Fighting my own thoughts that were telling me to quit and give up. Two months off from running does take a toll on your fitness…it does. Regardless of how active I managed to be and the cross-training I worked in…it wasn’t the same as running, so running has naturally felt harder as I’ve gotten back into it. I don’t know what it was about Saturday…but the level of accomplishment for running 13.1 miles in 1:51:36 was completely shadowed by the fact that I wasn’t running it as I felt I should be. I felt like I was making excuses. I wasn’t. I was stating facts. I have been injured. I haven’t run for 2 months. I can’t immediately hop into a sub-8 minute pace. But, runners are so numbers oriented. We’re perfectionists. We base so much of our training on those numbers…and the numbers I am now assigned are back to the paces I would have run three years ago…back when I started.
It’s like starting over. And that’s what has been nagging at my mind. I have a marathon coming up…and I’m struggling sometimes with 4 miles. Not because I hurt…nope…because in my mind, because so many times I was told I can’t…I am starting to believe…I can’t. And that’s what hurts the most.
For the record, I came out of the run with no foot pain…just a little stiffness in the quads. I figured that was from new shoes. I took all of Sunday off to recover (no gym either!). And this morning, I laced up the Hoka’s again for my three mile easy paced run. By Mile 2, I was done with them. I love the soft landing they provide and the stability…but they feel so heavy and my steps and stride and feet feel so clunky. I paused my run, went up to my apartment and switched into my Newton’s for the final mile. I felt so much better, lighter, and confident in those. So…guess what’s getting sent back for a full refund?
Bye, bye Hoka’s.
My goals have definitely shifted since this injury, but that doesn’t mean that I’m okay with them. I’m disappointed…naturally. And I think it’s only right that I feel this way. I’m upset at my body…for not only not being in marathon shape, but for betraying me like it did. I’m mad at myself…because, despite having done everything right…everything I was supposed to be doing…I, mentally, am a mess. Physically, I’m getting there. Well…some days are better than others. But…it’s a slow process. But those voices…the ones that have told me all this time that I can’t and that I shouldn’t…they’re winning. The proof came in my last two runs. I’ve tried to shake it off, but when I can feel tears in my eyes, not due to pain, but due to that little voice in my head now echoing those can’ts and shouldn’ts…I realize…they’ve won. And all those negative thoughts are now my own. I can ignore the voices of others to a point…but when their words start to become my own…confidence takes a nosedive…and I start questioning my own abilities.
Comebacks are hard…but I’m a fighter. Right now, the important thing is to put one foot in front of the other. The perfectionist in me…that competitive voice…it looks at my numbers and I immediately want to compare them to where I was last year…and I know I can’t. But I do. Like I said…runner’s live their lives off of numbers and statistics. It’s hard to separate myself from the statistics I recorded last year. It’s hard not to compare myself, not just to where I was last year, but to others, who are getting stronger and faster…where as I feel 3 easy miles at a pace that would have been easy a year ago…now feels hard. It messes with the mind…which then messes with the confidence…which then only leads me down this path of depression and low self-esteem. And a definite drop in confidence.
A change in goals doesn’t always make for a happy runner. But it’s necessary. The hard part is wrapping my brain around it…and understanding that it’s time to focus on myself…not on others. It’s time to tune out the negativity…from other people, but mostly from myself. It’s time to take charge…and just focus on building myself back up. The confidence will come back…as will the speed. Patience and positivity is what I need most. Because it will help get me back on track…even if that road is a little rocky along the way.
It’s International Talk Like A Pirate Day, mateys!!
But…it also means that it’s my birthday. I didn’t have anything planned for the occasion…except having my friend Jenn come down for the weekend. Which is awesome, because she’s one of my favorite peeps. Travel buddy…race spectator…professional cheer section! WOOT!
And it was a good day. After work, we all went out for Indian food at Shalimar (my favorite!) and then to the mall. Cathy bought me a new wallet and some socks for an upcoming race outfit. The socks…the wallet is for everyday use, obviously.
And then, we came back to the apartment…stuffed ourselves with slices of my gluten-free and vegan birthday cake, made by Annie May’s Sweet Café, in Louisville, Kentucky. And we settled in for a little while to chat, get caught up, watch some crazy stuff on television, and then get some rest. Long day for the traveler and an early morning in the works for the morning.
I couldn’t have asked for a better day. This morning, I was gifted with a gift card to purchase either the Frozen Soundtrack or Sherlock Series 3 on Blu-Ray. I got some great new running gear from Amanda. I went to work with goodies for the office and they were devoured. Cathy’s mom brought me balloons and roses and a watermelon! Then, home for food. The waiter at Shalimar was taking our order, and I got my favorite, the Broccoli Masala. And he said, “It’s your birthday…you should do something different!” But I said it was my favorite…so that is what I wanted. After the meal, they brought out complimentary rice pudding for the three of us. I love that place SO much. As you can tell…I go there often! Then shopping. Then cake. Now relaxing. Oh yeah…good day!!
Speaking of cake…check out what Cathy and Annie May’s Sweet Café worked up for me:
Birthday Cake
Which brings me to the next order of business…
On September 12, 2014, at exactly 10:00 a.m., I was able to register for my chance to run the Boston Marathon. On Sunday night…I was pulling up my e-mail on my phone and…there it was…
Boston Marathon Confirmation of Entry Acceptance
OFFICIAL!!
I am so excited. And with the recent injury, I am really just focusing on recovery, regaining strength, and just getting myself to Boston in perfect marathon shape and form. I know it can happen. I have to break some of the habits I have fallen into since the injury. When this e-mail came over, I would have jumped up and down…if I could. But my foot wouldn’t allow that. So, I did this happy dance thing, and Cathy just ignored me. Law & Order was on. I finally said, “Ask me why I’m dancing…just ask me why I’m dancing.” Much screaming and excitement followed.
I still feel that way. So, for now…my plan for NYC is to take in the experience, but not race it. I just can’t. Not with that amount of time off. Not with my foot still bugging me when I take a step. My podiatrist changed up my prescription today…so hopefully something will get better.
Me, holding my niece Baileigh Kendyl, and with my nephew Chace Tanner
It’s Sunday morning, August 31, 2014.
I should be out on the course, probably around Mile 16-ish of the Tupelo Marathon in Tupelo, Mississippi.
I should be logging a finish this morning…in just slightly over an hour from the typing of these words…of my 7th marathon this year.
I should be tired, slogging through heat and rain (it is SO raining there), my mind focused on that finish line.
I should be putting all my hard training over the past few weeks to work to accomplish a goal that I signed up for and got myself in shape for, right?
*crickets chirp*
Well…I’m not.
I’m not doing any of those things.
Instead, I am sitting in my room at my parents home in Birmingham, Alabama. I have an exercise mat spread out on the floor and a cold bottle of water at my side. I just completed a set of some of the things that have been my day-in-and-day-out for the past month and a half. Push-ups, crunches, squats, and some ab toning exercises.
My feet are currently “booted” (it’s the best description) in KT Tape that is being used to stabilize my ankles and my feet in general. I sort of look like I have racing strips up my calf muscles. It’s not a good look. It definitely doesn’t go well with dress clothes. But it will surely be the look of next spring. Just…take my word on this, okay? HA!
Why?
No one and no test can tell me. Honestly. I have become yet another marvel to my podiatrist and the radiologist. But I am, as usual, getting ahead of myself. Let me rewind to a month and a half ago. It was a warm Tuesday morning, around 3:30 a.m. My NYC training plan called for 6×800 meters with a 45 second break in between each one. I have no track nearby so I was going to just have to do circles in my parking lot and just really watch the distance on my Garmin. I hated that…but you do what you have to with the circumstances you are given. In my case – no track…dark parking lot…3:30 a.m. darkness…and a whole lot of hate for speed work. Let’s face it…these short legs are made for distance and endurance…not so much speed! But…I set to it, doing my 1 mile warm up and then hitting those intervals the best I could manage and being diligent about that 45 second recovery. I stopped for water on a couple, because hydration is important to me. Anyway…I finished those up and went on my cool down mileage to round it off to the planned 7 miles on my plan.
And that’s where it all went to hell.
I was finishing up the last mile, not even a quarter of a mile through it when my foot started to hurt. It hurt so bad that I could hardly run a few steps without just pain. My immediate reaction was to stop running. So…I did. I think I differ from a lot of my running compatriots in that when something hurts…I don’t “push through the pain” nor “push myself to the point of puking.” I stop. I can’t fathom pushing through something and damaging my body further or worse. My brain can’t wrap around that mentality. I hobbled home, feeling defeated and more than a little worried about my foot. That morning, I called my podiatrist’s office and tried to get in for an appointment. The earliest one they had was 2 weeks away. I explained my problem and they said that if they had something open up sooner, they’d call me. I sighed…and said okay. That afternoon, they called and said they had a 9:00 a.m. opening on the following morning…Wednesday. I took it.
Long story made as short as I can manage…
The initial X-Rays showed what he called my foot “thinking” about fracturing. So it wasn’t quite a stress fracture…but the foot was right on the cusp. I was ordered into 2 weeks of no running, no spinning, no fierce walking…just upper body weights and swimming. I was going to get fitted for some new orthodics as well…ones that were more flexible so I would be okay running in them. My feet had changed. My orthodics no longer fit my feet right. It was causing problems. Big problems, apparently. I took my 2 week running/gym/spinning hiatus with much misery and complaining. I bought some hand weights and a kettlebell. I went to the gym every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning at 5 a.m. to swim laps in the pool. I’m not a strong nor a fast swimmer so my goal began to be to at least get in 1800 yards…or 1 mile…which would take me between 50-55 minutes. Told you…I’m slow. After my required time off, I went back in and had my feet molded for the new orthodics and X-rayed again. The foot looked much better and I was given the okay to start running again…only 2-4 miles. If it hurt…I was to back off. I could start that the very next day. It was a Thursday. That morning, I got out of bed and donned my running and reflective gear. The foot was still sore, but I chocked that up to being because of being poked and prodded by the podiatrist the previous afternoon. I put on my Adidas Boosts…I took in some water…and I turned on my Garmin, heading down my apartment stairs to get in 2 miles. I’d start small and build. I went about 3 steps before I started to feel pain. I thought maybe I was stiff and managed to get to the very end of my parking lot before pausing my Garmin and turning around. Maybe I should put my orthodics in. Second verse…same as the first. Maybe if I wore my Newtons instead. Third time wasn’t the charm. I managed 1/4 mile of excruciating pain. Feeling defeated and deflated…I hobbled back inside, cried, and put on shoes to head to the gym and hit the weight machines. I tried the next few mornings…and couldn’t get more than 10 steps. After a week of this and no improvement, I called my podiatrist back. They had me come in on that Thursday in the morning. Another round of X-Rays were taken…and again showed nothing. So, my podiatrist taped up my feet again and scheduled me for an MRI. They were hoping for that very same day…but it wasn’t happening until Monday. Another weekend of nothing but swimming and weights. I was not happy.
MRI day came and went and that following Thursday, I was back in my podiatrist’s office to get the results. The MRI showed nothing…nothing at all. No fractures. Nothing wrong with the bones. When my podiatrist got the results on Tuesday, he phoned the radiologist and they went slide-by-slide through my MRI because, as he said to the radiologist…”I have an elite runner who wants to get back to running yesterday and she can’t because her foot is hurting. We need to find out why.” And so…after 25 minutes working together, they decided it had to do with the fluid in my foot and the inflammation it was causing. Joy. I was delegated to more rest. Another week of no running and this new tape job. I was prescribed Celebrex, which my insurance refused, so 2 days later, that mess got resolved and I was put on Mobic for the inflammation. I was told I could walk, I could bike, I could (finally) get back on the eliptical, I could swim, I could do more upper body weights…just no running for a week. I went back to spin class that Friday. It was tough. I feel out of shape. I feel that time off did mess with my fitness despite doing my best to stay active with slower than a snail swimming and weights. I could tell I hadn’t been sweating it out or doing cardio. I was happy to be there. I was happy to be sweating again.
Tupelo Marathon was this coming weekend. On Friday…I ran 1 mile. Slowly. With minimal pain. It was there…it just wasn’t the stabby ow ow ow I am going to die pain I had been feeling. It was slow…and steady…and just a mile.
I had already resigned myself to the fact that I was going to DNS my second marathon this year (the first one being Mercedes back in February due to a severely sprained ankle). There was no way that Tupelo could happen. I was a month and a half without running. No. I wasn’t going to go from 0 miles to 26.2 miles when a mile was still not perfect.
But I also believe things happen for a reason…
On Wednesday, August 27, 2014, at 1:37 p.m., my sister welcomed into the world a beautiful baby girl, Baileigh Kendyl, weighing 8 pounds 2 ounces. She was beautiful and perfect. And now that I didn’t have a commitment to be in Tupelo to run a marathon…I could slip down to Birmingham, Alabama and see my niece. For the first time, hold one of the new babies in my family (this makes my sister’s 3rd child, my brother has 4)…when they were brand new. The best part was…only my parents knew I was coming down. I wanted to surprise my sister. I left Friday after work, the same day she and Baileigh were released from the hospital to go home. I got to my parents house late…due to Labor Day traffic…around 11 p.m.
The following day, after lunch, I was walking into my sister’s house…no one having a clue I was there…and getting to meet my beautiful and perfect new niece. It topped packet pickup and trying to find somewhere to get a gluten-free pizza in Tupelo, Mississippi…any day. I was smitten and in love with the newest addition to the family for sure. And every chance I had to hold her…I totally did.
I paused there, without you knowing it (which, now you do…because I told on myself) to go out for another slow run. I managed 2 miles here in my parents neighborhood, but I’m feeling it. I definitely feel like I’ve lost a good amount of fitness with the 1.5 month hiatus I’ve been on. My foot still twinges…though not debilitating when it does so. And I fight for each step more than I normally would have to. If I feel pain…yes…I stop. I couldn’t fathom risking further or worse injury to myself and pressing on. Do I hate that a majority of my friends are running half marathons, marathons, or some semblance of miles this weekend…and I can barely squeak in 2 miles? Yep. I don’t hate them for it…I hate my body for breaking on me. I hate that I can’t be joining them on these hard-earned and fought for miles.
But…my 26.2 miles was not meant to be. I was needed in Birmingham. I was supposed to be here…with my family…as we welcome Baileigh Kendyl to our humble, fun, and quirky lives. I was meant to be loved on and spend a lot of time with my nephew, Chace, who usually shies away from me…because I’m hardly here. He was all about me yesterday and I ate up every moment he spent clinging to me. I love him so much. I loved seeing Landon…ride his bike, play games, and watch the Auburn game. I loved talking with him…and getting hugs and love. Yes…this was way better than any race…even if the medal at the end was pretty stellar.
What this brings me to is this…
LIFE IS A MARATHON.
It’s not meant to be a sprint. So…slow down. It’s okay to set high standards and goals, but understand these don’t have to be accomplished right away. Give it and yourself time. You’re in it for the long run. Things shouldn’t and won’t happen right away. There will be obstacles and setbacks…but they will only make you stronger. Strive for greatness, but be prepared to fall and to fail. Just don’t give up. Aim for the stars…you will eventually get there. Pace yourself. Don’t overtrain. Don’t overdo it. Be bold. Be daring. But be kind to yourself. Don’t miss out on special moments and amazing events because of a training schedule or a diet or a race. You can hit a reset the next day…or the day after that. Keep your eye on the prize, but also your mind and heart on the important things in life. Know that change doesn’t happen overnight. And, yes…life is hard. It’s meant to be hard. We wouldn’t grow or overcome anything if it were easy. So…take it one step at a time. You come into this life a perfect baby…but you leave it with imperfections. It’s okay to have flaws and to fall short…never give up…never stop trying…but try within reason and don’t miss out on life’s most precious moments. Slow down. Take it in. Breathe. Stretch. And love. Love life and everything you do in life. Don’t obsess and don’t try to control the outcomes of things you have no control over. If it’s meant to be, it will be. If not…you will always have other opportunities. The finish line, regardless of how quickly you get there, is always right ahead. You aren’t finished yet…because in the marathon of life…you have a lot more than 26.2 miles. But each step…each breath…each time you push yourself just a little more…you get a little stronger…and a little better. And when you do reach that finish line, you’ll know it was all worth it in the end. Even if it took longer than you thought.
Welcome to my world, Baileigh Kendyl Morrow. I can’t wait to take your hand and guide you through some of it with me.
Me and Kat crossing the finish line at the Buffalo Marathon – Buffalo, New York. This picture encapsulates everything about the marathon. (Photo Credit: Diane Sardes)
Race: Buffalo Marathon
Place: Buffalo, New York
Date: May 25, 2014
Time:4:32:44*
“When you cross the finish line, no matter how slow or fast, it will change your life forever.” – Spirit of the Marathon
I want to point out the asterisks above, as this race was not one that I was running at my normal marathon pace. Nope. I agreed back in March to pace two of my friends, Kat and Janelle, to their hopes of a sub-4 finish in the Buffalo Marathon. This race was not about me or my goals…this was all about them. And I took this responsibility very seriously, mind you! I trained as I would if I were going to be the one racing…meaning all of my training runs I did as though I were running this race at my pace. I didn’t want to over-train or get cocky and think that I could run more because this race wasn’t going to be done at my “normal” pace. Nope. Like I said…I take my job as a pacer very, very seriously.
I know what you’re doing. You’re looking at that finish time and wondering what went wrong.
Well…I will get to that. And then I will reflect on what this race has taught me, in general, about the human spirit and the spirit of the marathon. But…let me start at the very beginning.
Fridays are usually hectic as it is, but this Friday just put me out-of-my-mind. I had tried to do most of my packing on Thursday, but I still had plenty to do that morning…plus a date with my spinning class at 5:30 a.m. Go figure. As I was racing on Sunday, I went to class, but kept the heavy down and just did what I was comfortable with. I didn’t want to wear out these legs. I had two people counting on me and I wasn’t about to let them down. I thought about skipping my class, but I figured I’d be in a car most of Saturday, so as long as I didn’t put too much resistance on the bike…I’d be fine.
I did manage to get everything packed up and loaded into the car. But I wasn’t Buffalo bound yet. New York was going to have to wait. I had to go to work for the entire day first. Then…then I could start my journey toward my sixth marathon this year. Whew. I headed into the office and made little to no use of my standing desk, once again, trying to keep as much pressure off these legs as possible. I wanted to get to that start line feeling ready and relaxed. It worked. I got through the entire work day without any issues, then packed up and headed out at 4:30 p.m. to head up to Columbus, Ohio. Jenn was going to make this journey with us for the marathon, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. YAY! But…this meant enduring the ride up to Columbus. But first…I stopped off at my local gluten-free bakery to pick up a pizza crust. I promised Kat, back when she was in town for the Kentucky Derby Festival Mini Marathon that I’d bring her one of Annie May’s Sweet Café’s amazing gluten-free pizza crusts. And…while we were there, Cathy and I each ordered a sandwich to go to eat in the car on the way up to Jenn’s. We might have also picked up one of her vegan and gluten-free chocolate chip cookies too. Maybe. Anyway, this plan to grab dinner worked out perfectly. An Annie May’s sandwich might be a new travel after work tradition.
Soon, we were on the road and making good time up to Columbus, Ohio. As we came through Cincinnati, Ohio, I asked Cathy if we were going to stop soon because the unsweetened iced tea and the water I had with dinner had gone right through me and I “really needed to pee.” TMI? Nah. Anyway, she said we’d stop at somewhere up the road…which turned into about an hour wait. Seriously. The information center she had wanted to stop at was closed…and already way further than I had hoped to go before I got my break. So…I was not happy. We finally pulled over at a gas station on the exit you would take if you were going to the Ohio Renaissance Festival. I went inside the BP and took care of business, only to be interrupted by a woman pounding on the door, declaring she had an emergency. Um…yeah…kinda busy…gotta wait. I peed as fast as I could…but she kept pounding and pissing me off. Do NOT piss off a runner who has been tapering. I washed my hands and hurried out of the bathroom, having her blow past me like I was doing it on purpose. UGH!! People suck.
Back on the road…and no more stops until we hit Jenn’s house somewhere around 9 p.m. Cathy and I changed out into more comfortable clothes and then we settled in to talk a bit and eat Jenn’s infamous (but to me it’s famous) Pink Salad. Mmmmm…just what I needed. Hit the freakin’ spot. I knew I needed to get up around 4 a.m. to do a shakeout run, stretch, shower, eat breakfast, and get out of the door in a timely manner to continue the journey up to Buffalo, New York on Saturday morning…so we were turning in earlier than normal.
My alarm went off at 4 a.m. and I immediately dropped my iPhone before I could turn it off. Whoops. I got up and got changed into my running clothes and headed out Jenn’s garage to do 3 very easy miles as a shakeout before my drive up for the marathon. I forgot that Jenn’s roads have storm drains in the center of the road, so those were some fun obstacles at first. HAHA! I finally just got off to the side, and ran a loop around her inner circle until I hit my miles for the day. I actually did it faster than I intended or felt like I was running…so my legs were definitely feeling good. I ducked back inside, shed the reflective gear and went to do my stretching. Jenn came down as I was finishing that up. And soon I was headed up to shower, wake up Cathy, and we were settling in for some gluten-free bagels for breakfast. Topped off with a Garlic and Herb cream cheese of deliciousness. It was like eating garlic bread. The car was loaded back up and we piled in…heading out for the long road to Buffalo, New York.
I was already tired from not sleeping much, so Jenn passed my pillow up and I dozed up until we made our first stop to put in some gas. There was a nice Starbucks attached to the gas station, so we all got one of their refreshers…mine…the Cool Lime (YUMMY!) before piling back into the car and making our way up to Erie, Pennsylvania. That was going to be our stop for lunch. Back when I ran the Hershey Half Marathon, we found a place called Picasso’s to eat dinner at on our way back to Jenn’s. They specialize in very unique sandwiches…and we fell in love with them. This was our lunch destination…and we got there just after they opened. We each got a sandwich and drink and settled in at a table. My Gluten-Free Venus de Milo Sandwich was fantastic. It was a combination of hummus, onions, baby spinach, tomato, muffaletta spread, carrots, avocado, and a roasted red pepper mayo, toasted on gluten-free bread (in the oven to keep it from being cross-contaminated). Seriously…delicious. Then, we ducked over to Wegmans (an awesome grocery store for those not familiar) to grab a few necessities for Sunday…like bananas and water and watermelon. Then…back on the road. Next stop…the Hyatt Regency Buffalo (the host hotel) where we were staying.
I had hoped to meet up with both Kat and Janelle at the the expo, but Kat was there earlier in the day and Janelle, honestly, was leaving as I was pulling in. Dang it. I was seeing Kat later that evening for dinner, but Janelle was not going to be able to make it. So, we all planned to meet up on Sunday morning with the 4 hour pace group. Deal. We pulled into the hotel and valet parked the car, hauling our stuff inside. I went to check in, and as I was running the marathon was gifted with a bottle of Gatorade. I signed a sneaker with how many marathons I had run and my best finishing time, was given two keys to the room (I gave them to Jenn and Cathy to handle…I am a zen runner on race weekends and want no responsibilities). We took our stuff up to the hotel room to drop it off and then headed out to walk through the walkways from the hotel to the expo center. Weirdly enough, there were no signs really directing anyone to where to find the expo…so we randomly followed some people and ended up making our way there. Let’s hear it for the blind leading the visually challenged!
Bart Yasso and me at the Buffalo Marathon Expo – Buffalo, New York
The expo was small. We stepped inside and I got in line to get a plastic bag that contained some race information and my safety pins. From there, I had to wind my way through the vendors and other races there to find the tables in the back where packet pickup was happening. I went over to the side for the marathon (there is also a 5K and a half marathon), and gave my name. The teenager behind the table looked me up, grabbed my race bib and race shirt and passed it over to me. I thanked him, tucked it into the plastic bag and went to meet Jenn and Cathy over at the BondiBand table. HA! They knew I’d want to make a stop there. We didn’t spend too long digging through the BondiBands as I own most of them (it’s a sickness…I know!)…but I found two that fit my personality and I ended up getting those. It’s tradition! You never break tradition. We wound our way back through, stopping off at a few interesting sounding races…all of which are on weekends that don’t work for me…this year…and ended up at Bart Yasso’s talk.
I LOVE Bart Yasso and really want to incorporate the Yasso 800’s into my training…eventually. We listened to him talk, and when he finished up, I went to see if he would sign my book (I brought it with me!) and maybe get a picture with him. There wasn’t a long line…and before long I was up there and talking with him. He remembered me from Facebook (HA!) and just asked if I spelled Karen with a “K.” That was awesome. He was very kind and wrote me a nice message before taking a picture with me and wishing me luck on Sunday. With that…we made our way out of the expo and back to our hotel room, where we crashed until about 4:15 p.m., watching Food Network (Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives was on, followed by Guy’s Grocery Games). I took the time to do my evening stretches and some foam rolling so I wouldn’t have to worry about it after dinner and could focus more on getting race morning stuff together and getting to bed at a decent time.
All that did get accomplished before we headed back out to the streets of Buffalo and walked to our dinner destination, Merge, located on Delaware Avenue. We were early. The restaurant hadn’t even opened yet. But, we knew that would probably be the case. We left early to give us time to get lost and all. But at the first sense of us not knowing which way to go, Cathy asked the valet guys and we were immediately on track without the whole wander around town mess. Love nipping something in the bud. At 5 p.m., Kat and Adam (Kat’s boyfriend) arrived and we went inside for our dinner reservation. We were immediately seated and asked if we wanted something other than water to drink. I don’t do anything but water these days as it is…so I stuck with that. Then…it was menu time. I had looked at this menu DOZENS of times before…and I knew there was a gluten-free and vegan pizza option. That’s my traditional food before a race…but there were so many enticing dishes on this menu that I couldn’t get anywhere else…and I get good gluten-free pizza in Louisville. SO…now I was waffling on what I wanted for dinner and everyone else was ready. With the assistance of the waiter, I bucked tradition again and went with the Gluten-Free and Vegan Arugula Pesto Pasta, which was a basic brown rice fusilli pasta with local tomato, red onion, spinach and tossed with toasted walnuts. It was as amazing as it looked. Got a Gluten-Free and Vegan Chocolate Mousse with Spiced Berry Compote for dessert, which I split with Cathy. All of us talked for awhile, not much about running but about other stuff, until we were told they needed the table. So, with that, we parted ways. Cathy, Jenn and I walked back to the hotel room. and I changed into my pajamas, brushed my teeth, put out my race clothes for the morning, plugged in my Garmin to charge, set the two wake-up alarms, and then…went to bed.
My first alarm got me up and I went through my routine before hitting the sack again for another hour. The second alarm rang and I was up and into the bathroom to change into my race gear. I had opted for a tank top, despite the 47 degree weather that morning. I had my homemade arm warmers for the start, figuring I’d shed them sometime in the race. My running skirt, my CEP calf sleeves, my Newton’s. I was ready to run. I put on my sunscreen and got my “epic race hair” done up before stretching. Jenn woke up just before I was to wake up both her and Cathy to get ready…so I just needed to worry about getting Cathy moving. I woke her up and then settled in to eat my cereal (a pre-race tradition for EVERY race). I took my time, relaxed, and occupied my mind with things other than the race. Both Cathy and Jenn grabbed the free granola from the expo and got something in their stomachs and soon, I was grabbing my banana and we were heading down to the lobby and outside to the starting area.
The start area hadn’t been opened to the runners in the full or half marathon yet…so everyone was sort of behind a barrier on the other side of the street. I saw pacers walk by and really wanted to go find my girls, but Cathy was like…”Um…good luck with that!” Which, sort of annoyed me so I was in a huff when the starting area was finally opened. But, she called me back and I settled down. I got hugs and was told to have a good race. Jenn told me that “The Power of Dean [Karnazes] Compelled Me” and not to “pants my poop.” This is tradition. It has to happen. With that, I left them to go find a spot near the start line and I went to hopefully find Janelle (who I hadn’t met yet in person) and Kat.
Kat (green arm warmers), Me, and Janelle (pink shirt) heading out at the start of the Buffalo Marathon – Buffalo, New York (Photo Credit: Jennifer Mariani)
Janelle found me, actually…which was awesome. We were about 15 minutes away from race time. I was so happy to see her. She looked rested and ready to run. Perfect. I asked if she had seen Kat…and she hadn’t. But a few minutes later, miss Bright Green Arm Warmers was at our sides. We attempted to do some stretching in the start area but it was really crowded and moving around was not much of an option. Kat was talking to pretty much everyone…because I really think she knows everyone in Buffalo…and we did our best to keep our legs loose and limber in the chilly morning air. I pointed out that the girl in front of me had her shirt on inside out and we agreed that if it wasn’t three minutes to start time, we might have informed her…but it was too late now. The National Anthem was sung…and we were right in line with the 4-hour pace group. Right where I wanted to start. One moment later…runners were off. And we were making the march toward the start line. Kat doesn’t like to start running until she crosses that mat, so we kept a fast walk until we hit that start gate…and we were off. I spotted Cathy and Jenn immediately, flashed a peace sign…and fell into pace.
Janelle, Me, and Kat love seeing familiar faces around Mile 6.3 in the Buffalo Marathon – Buffalo, New York
We stayed behind the pace group for the first mile, wanting to make sure we didn’t have the “fly and die” technique…wanting to go into this easy and work our way up. Kat and Janelle both liked this plan and that was what we worked at doing. But somewhere before we hit Mile 2, we got ahead of the pace group. I asked my girls how they felt about pace, and both agreed it was good. I told them that whenever they wanted to back off, just to say the word and we would. So, Kat did that every now and again, terrified of going out too fast and wanting to have that 4 hour pace group not too much behind or ahead of us at any time. As both seemed comfortable…we continued on. We hit that 5K mark feeling strong, and I once again checked on the pace. We backed it off a little per Kat’s request and continued on. I ditched my arm warmers somewhere around here as well. HA! Looking at my Garmin…we actually were keeping a very level, even pace for a good stretch of this race. It was awesome. It felt good. We all felt good. Kat gave me a bit of a tour as we were running, as this is where she grew up. I’m a history buff, so I found every bit of this fascinating. And…it made the miles fly by without us really paying attention to them at all. Before we knew it, we were at the 10K mark…feeling good. We rounded a corner, and Kat spotted Adam and went over to see him, but he told her to keep going as she was right on pace. And just a few feet up…was Cathy and Jenn. I spotted the donkey sign! I gave a big wave and a smile. It’s always nice to see familiar faces during a race…and we were only 1/4 of the way done. But…we were feeling amazing. So, on we went.
We kept this great pace (just under sub-9) up through the LaSalle Park area. We hit the waterfront, where the road narrowed quite a bit. The slow-up was welcome though…so we took the break and eased our way through the crowds. The waterfront was gorgeous! Honestly. I loved running this part of the race. Great breeze. Great views. The lake was stunning. We knew as we were going to be leaving the waterfront that photographers were stationed. And we spotted them up ahead. The three of us raised our arms for the shot…and that was when some jackass pushed Kat. Like…literally pushed her. RUDE! So, not sure how that shot is going to turn out. Asshat. We had now hit the 15K mark…and all of us were still feeling good and strong. My girls were rockstars! I asked about pace every now and again, wanting them to feel comfortable with it…and so far, they were.
Janelle, Me, and Kat at the 13.1 mile point of the Buffalo Marathon! Feeling strong. Looking strong!
Kat continued her guided tour as we ran around the Erie Basin Marina and back into town. She was elated when she noticed the course was going to take us past the First Niagara Center, where the Buffalo Sabers play hockey. She has season tickets…so she was glad the new course still ran past there. The sun was up now and there were no clouds in the sky. None. So it was warming up fast. We came through town, loving the shade that the buildings provided, but the heat was there. We hit the halfway point…and were pleasantly surprised to see both Jenn and Cathy standing right at the 13.1 marker to cheer us on. We were powering through that first half, maintaining a relatively even pace…backing off where necessary…and feeling awesome. We were just where we needed to be…right in between the 3:50:00 pacers and the 4-hour pace group. We were right on target.
But as we headed a few miles further in, the heat started to really affect Kat. She came to a walk on a hill around Mile 15, taking out her inhaler. We were ahead of schedule and the walk break was a welcome one on the hill, and once she fueled and took in some liquid, we were back on our way. We knocked out another mile back on our pace, but the 4-hour pace group had caught up to us. We decided to run just behind them for a little while. Good strategy. But as we came into Mile 16, going into 17…Kat slowed again and the pace group moved ahead. She was getting angry and frustrated with herself, but we were still ahead of the pace group so that was of some help to get her focused again. The fuel belt she was wearing wasn’t sitting right on her body, so Janelle asked if she wanted to try holding her bottle with Nuun in it and ditching the belt with her husband at Mile 17. Kat agreed so Janelle ran up ahead to find her husband, dump water out of one of her bottles, and get one ready for Kat. Kat was really struggling here and as we walked a bit through Mile 16.55, with her in tears and angry at having to walk, one of the volunteers checked to make sure she was okay, letting us know where we were in the race and asking if she needed any sort of attention. She waved him off and we both thanked him, and when we hit some road signs, we started to pick up the pace again, maintaining that until we met up with Janelle and her husband near Mile 17. We changed out the fuel pack for the handheld water and we were back on our way.
We were now in Delaware Park, which would last for a mile, where we then would enter back onto the streets and re-enter the park around Mile 20.5. As we were heading up the hill, Kat went to fuel with her Craisins. But they didn’t stay down. The heat was really getting to her…as she hadn’t had warm weather this year to train in. Buffalo was 40 degrees all day on Friday…and Saturday was slightly warmer, but with a cool breeze that made it feel cooler. We had a slight breeze, but the air was hot and the sun was relentless. Kat handed me the handheld bottle and tried to fuel again, this time to keep it down. I gave her one of my bottles on my fuel belt that had water inside. She took it…and this time…it all stayed down. She asked if I was okay holding onto the handheld bottle for her…and I said that was fine. Mind you, I hate running with things in my hands, but this was definitely more important. And…it would help me keep a steadier pace for Kat. But then the 4:10 pace group past and I saw that fight go out of her. She felt defeated, but I did what I could to get her to press on. We could at least try for her next goal of a PR. We came out of the park and it was a run walk method, with Janelle and I just wanting to keep Kat going. Finally, Janelle said she was starting to hurt, so she was going to put on her headphones and head for the finish line. We had tried to get her to do that earlier…but she stuck it out with us for some of it, even giving up her sub-4 finish to make sure Kat was okay. But we wished her luck and sent her on, telling her to let Cathy and Jenn know that we would be behind her.
I did my best to keep Kat going. The heat was really doing a number on her. She was getting dizzy and suffering from a headache. In addition, she said at some points she felt like she was going to pass out. I didn’t want that to happen, so I told her to walk when she needed. We were coming up around Mile 20 when one lone woman was standing on the road, shouting support to everyone. She saw Kat, who was crying, and honed in on her. It made me smile when I heard her say to Kat…”I see you, 890! You look so strong. Come on 890…you can do this. Push through, 890! I know you can do this. I know you want to run.” Kat started crying more, but this time tears of happiness, and her pace…picked up. It was the push she needed…from a random stranger. And as she ran up the hill…the woman said, “That’s it 890! Keep going!!” and other inspiring and motivating words. She was a rockstar. And, honestly, was able to do what I couldn’t. As we came back into Delaware Park, Kat said she had to use the bathroom and maybe that would help. The problem was…there were no port-a-potties on the course winding through the park. So, it was run, walk, run…until we were heading out of the park where there were some port-a-potties. Luckily one was not in use. I waited on the corner while she ducked into one. A minute later, we were back on the road and back to running. She felt better. And we now had just over 4 more miles to go. We were getting there. When the 4:20 pace group passed, she started crying again. And…she handed over her Garmin, saying she didn’t want it on anymore. Is trapped it onto my wrist and we moved on. It was better this way. She had been so focused on that pace and now…her disappointment was setting in. I kept assuring her that her primary goal was to finish…and I was going to get her to that line.
With only a few miles left, we were determined to go without stopping. Kat was determined now, despite the heat. She was sweating out salt, so I was trying to get her to take in as much water and electrolytes as possible. Her compression socks were starting to bother her, so she stopped to roll them down. Only, that felt worse as we started up again, so she pulled them back up. We ran and walked for the next few miles, doing what she needed. I pushed her here and there, telling her what landmarks we would hit and start jogging and picking up the pace…easing back into it. She listened to me…and did as I said…and she’d slow and walk when she needed to. Around Mile 24, she was done with the compression socks. So she pulled over to the side of the road and sat down, taking off her shoes and removing the socks. I ended up tying them to my fuel belt and she put her shoes back on and decided to finish the race without socks on. I told her she’d blister…and she said blisters already happened. Might as well be comfortable. A woman who was cheering on runners across the street asked if she was okay…and we said she was…and within moments, she was back on her feet and we were heading down into the next mile…slapping hands with college boys at the water stop. We walked a bit coming into Mile 25 and I could hear that crowd ahead. The finish line was getting closer. We picked it up…we backed it off…we walked when she needed it. She finished off her Nuun…she took in one last water stop…and we pressed on…walking to the edge of a building I pointed out…and then picking up that pace. We were in the home stretch and she was going to run it in.
We had made a deal to cross that finish line together. I was wrapped up in the excitement and my finisher’s kick was already there. She called me back, saying she wasn’t ready yet. She wanted to see that finish line. So…I fell back and we rounded through Niagara Square. And then…there it was…the finisher’s chute! We picked up our pace and sprinted…as fast as our legs could go. As we neared that finish line, we took each other’s hands…and crossed together. It was…by far…one of the most rewarding and memorable finishes I have had in my life. We hugged tightly and I told her how proud I was of her. And we moved out of the way so that she could try to catch her breath, regain her strength…get her medal…and get some ice from the medical tent.
Kat, Me, and Janelle proudly displaying our finisher’s medals at the finish of the Buffalo Marathon – Buffalo, New York. So proud of these ladies!
After snagging an ice pack to put on the back of her neck, we headed back out, retrieving Mylar blankets and started down the chute. She spotted Adam and her mom and went to talk to them for a moment. And then…we went to get our picture taken for finishing. We moved further down the chute, retrieving water bottles and any snacks needed. She snagged an orange…good choice. And then we met up with Janelle, Cathy, Jenn, Janelle’s husband, Janelle’s dog (Domino), and Adam and Kat’s mom at the very end. We stood around talking for a little while and snapped a picture of the three of us with our medals. But then I needed to get up to the hotel room to shower off and change (as they were not allowing any late check-outs. Nope. Not at the host hotel!). Kat came with us because I forgot to give her the pizza the night before…and she changed while I went to shower. Cathy and Jenn packed everything up and when I stepped out of the shower…we were ready to head out.
Hugs all around and we were off.
So…my official results for the Buffalo Marathon are that I finished in a time of 4:32:44 (gun time) and 4:31: 36 (chip time) (for 26.49 miles). I was 832/1287 finishers overall. I was the 311/548 women to cross the finish line. And I was 64/108 in my age division. I can honestly say that this was the first time I ever crossed the finish line carrying more gear than I left with. HA! First time for everything!
Yes…there was a twinge of disappointment that came with this finish. But it wasn’t with the finishing time. It was watching a goal slip away from a good friend of mine, who worked her ass off to achieve it. Her body wasn’t ready for the heat, as she hadn’t trained in it yet. There were a few other factors as well. And the relentless sun did her in that day. But…she was not defeated. No matter how she felt, no matter how much she wanted to collapse and give up…she didn’t. Kat is a fighter. She’s strong and determined and stubborn as hell. And every time she fell back…I saw that flame in her eyes spark up…and she’d start to move again. There were plenty of tears shed at goals that weren’t reached, but ultimately, she proved not only her strength and her determination, but her worth out there on that course. I was so proud of her at that finish line. There was nowhere else I wanted to be than at her side that entire race, seeing her push through her own doubts. She is a fighter and she fought for this finish. She gave everything she had to reach that finish line. She finished strong. And every ounce of me has been inspired by her sheer determination and will to push through and see herself to that finish line. Her original goals fell to the wayside…but she finished. And ultimately...it’s not about finish times…it’s about finish lines. So often, as runners, we put so much emphasis on a new PR, a better time, faster, better, perfection. Those are all nice to accomplish and to have as goals, but we get so focused on that and sometimes we lose the actual joy of the run. We forget to have some fun. To enjoy it. To just take it in. When Kat crossed her finish line that morning…and when I gave her a tight hug, I told her just how proud I was of her. I still am. Best finish for me…ever.
Thank you, Kat…for inspiring me to push on when my self-doubts want me to stop. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for. This is one race I will always point to and say…”She wanted to give up…but she never did.” For that…you are more than an inspiration. You’re my hero!
When you can’t walk, you crawl. When you can’t do that, you find someone to carry you. – Firefly
The Celiathlete 