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Boston Marathon – Boston, MA (April 20, 2015)

Boston Marathon jacket, medal, and race bib
Boston Marathon jacket, medal, and race bib

Race: Boston Marathon

Place: Boston, Massachusetts

Date: April 20, 2015

Time: 5:07:08

“This is the story of how I died. Don’t worry, this is actually a very fun story…”

So…here is the preface to this.  If you saw and read my previous post, you’ll know that I’m injured.  Not because of over-training or pushing too hard or running too fast.  This is all about body mechanics.  A torn labrum in the hip is, actually, a very common injury in women in their thirties.  And, for me, because I am active, this happened sooner rather than later.  It just seemed to happen at the worst possible time.  I have a tight lower back…which started the problem. I have short and tight hamstrings, which added to the problem.  This was a cocktail for injury that had been building, then something finally gave.  My anterior labrum tore.  Small tear.  But, mother of Meb…it hurts to move.  Like, literally move.

But I’ve never been good at timing things.

*SIGH*

Anyway…the basic gist of the weeks leading up to Boston is…I did no running from early February.  In fact…every bit of activity ceased due to lower back pain.  Lower back pain soon became hip pain.  And I immediately went to see the top sports orthopedic doctor in the area.  He got me into physical therapy…where I was given stretches and even tried dry needling.  Relief came and went and I found myself back in the doctor’s office with a week to go to Boston.  He sent me in for an MRI.  NOT an experience I ever want to have again.  That was the Tuesday leading into Marathon Monday.  Wednesday morning and the rushed results were brought up and delivered to me in my doctor’s office…torn labrum.  SUCK.  I had him scrambling to find something for my tears.  He gave me a paper towel.  We discussed some options for healing and he said…I could TRY to walk/run Boston.  He sent me for a Cortisone shot and wished me luck.  That night I had the most epic meltdown ever.  I have never cried so hard and so long in my life.  There was no calming me down.  I dreamed of the day I’d run in the Boston Marathon, and while I could still participate, it wasn’t going to be the experience I envisioned.  And I was struggling with accepting that.  I was broken.  Mentally and physically…shattered.

“I learned, for example, that running injuries can be caused by being female, being male, being old, being young, pronating too much, pronating too little, training too much, and training too little.” ~Amby Burfoot in The Top 10 Laws of Injury Prevention

Me with my race bib at the Boston Marathon Race Expo
Me with my race bib at the Boston Marathon Race Expo

Thursday, the Cortisone shot from the day before was causing more pain than anything, but that soon subsided.  Thank God, because I was certain something was wrong.  I got through work, went to a soccer match, then came home and packed things up for Boston.  Late bedtime…then into work…then off to the airport.  Boston bound.

We got in late in the evening and stayed the night at a hotel near the airport.  My friend Heather joined Cathy and I in the hours before midnight, having caught a late flight out.  We got a few hours of sleep and in the morning, got up to head to our actual hotel in downtown Boston, get some coffee, and get to the race expo.

Sorry…I don’t function without my coffee.  And the Starbucks on Tremont was giving out free tall coffees to any Boston Marathon runners.  So for Saturday and Sunday, I got a free Blonde Roast coffee.  Thanks, Starbucks!

We hopped the T to head to the John B. Hynes Convention Center, where the race expo and packet pickup were being held.  This was the most organized expo I have ever been to.  Seriously.  Our bags were checked when we stepped into the center itself, and then we followed the directions of the volunteers and the signs toward where I would pick up my race packet.  I had my Runner’s Passport (which came in the mail) with me and I went up to my designated number area to receive my race bib.  Now, I wasn’t actually allowed to post the bib itself on social media because last year people swiped bibs that were posted and ran with them.  Seriously.  So, we took pictures, but nothing went up.  After that, I went to get my race packet (which had LOTS of goodies and my shirt inside) and then we headed down to the expo.

Matthew and me at the Boston Marathon Race Expo
Matthew and me at the Boston Marathon Race Expo with our Runner’s Passports

The official merch was the first area you are shuttled through.  All the Adidas goodness (I love Adidas!) you could ever want.  I already had purchased (so I would be guaranteed to have my size) my jacket, but I picked up a little (okay…a lot) more, and also a few things for some friends.  So…I have a lot of Boston merchandise.  But this might be my only Boston.  This was one expensive trip and marathon to do…and that was another thing tugging on my heartstrings…all this money and I couldn’t even perform the race the way I wanted.  Life…is not fair at times.  But, I was here to make the most of it.  With those purchases made, my friends and I ventured further into the expo.  I round one corner and immediately see familiar faces – Dawn & Matthew from my running group.  Matthew was running too and we were in the same corral and wave too.  But he was there to run it and I was there to…survive it.  Definitely not the plan we had going into this.  We took pictures and talked and eventually parted ways to check out the different booths, merchandise, and expo stuff.  We finished up at the expo and took the stroll down to the actual Finish Line on Boylston Street.  That…gave me chills and sent my heart fluttering.  I touched the line.  I sat on it.  I goofed around a bit, hoping that the way I was currently feeling would hold through Monday afternoon.  After we wrapped that up, dropped by Trader Joe’s for some water and snacks, then strolled back to the hotel to drop things off.  Our room was ready now, so we got our key and ventured up and…took a load off.  My friend Jenn had landed in Boston at this point and was grabbing a bite to eat before joining us at the hotel.  This meant…time to relax for a little bit.

Jumping for joy at the Boston Marathon Finish Line
Jumping for joy at the Boston Marathon Finish Line

When she arrived, I left to go and bring her up to the room.  We let her get settled and rest for a few moments before getting our stuff together and embarking on a Boston adventure.  This meant, we took a stroll.  Through Boston Common, down some streets, over to the water, up through neighborhoods…until we got to a T stop and hopped it to go out to visit MIT.  From MIT…on to Harvard.  And that night, I was meeting up with a my best friend from my childhood…the girl I met the day I moved to Big Flats, NY…Lydia…who worked and lived in Boston now.  We were hitting up John Harvard’s Pub & Grill for dinner and a lot of catching up.  I hadn’t seen her since high school.  It was a lot of fun catching up over dinner (I had a beet salad, for the record!), before we decided to stroll through Cambridge for awhile.  We ended the evening talking over coffee at a local coffee house until last call.  Then, we parted ways and headed back to the hotel to cycle four girls through the shower.  I think I finally got to bed around 12:30 a.m.  And I had an early morning alarm set.

Why?  Because I needed to get back to the expo.  I discovered that Sunday morning is the best time to go.  It is deserted.  We all had a variety of missions to accomplish at the expo, so we split up.  And…I ran into Geri and Dan from my running group.  I hadn’t seen them in a very long time and we talked and I was told not to hurt myself…more.  HA.  We snapped a picture and went on our different ways for the day.  After we polished off the expo for a second time, we hopped the T back to the hotel to leave things in the room.  And then…we were hitting up Boston by doing the Freedom Trail.  I know…you’re supposed to rest your legs the day before the race, but…I was here to see Boston.  And this was a great way to do it!  We stopped into church yards, churches, saw the site of the Boston Massacre, and so much more.  We grabbed lunch at Faneuil Hall Marketplace, each scattering to get whatever sounded good to us.  I got a salad (again), Heather got a prime rib sandwich, Cathy got a bread bowl of clam chowder, and Jenn got lobster bisque.  We ate, then did some more shopping and site seeing, before winding our way out to Beacon Hill.  Here, it was still too early for dinner (in my book), so we strolled around and ended up stopping into three different local chocolate shops and making purchases from each.  Chocolate score!  It was very spontaneous of us and very fun.  We then made our way back to our dinner destination.  A very tiny place called Upper Crust Pizza (which came highly recommended by two locals I know), due to the fact that they have gluten-free pizzas.

Heather, me, and Lydia - Big Flats, New York reunited!
Heather, me, and Lydia – Big Flats, New York reunited!

Cathy and I were prepared for what to order when we got here.  We got down a menu for Jenn & Heather in case they wanted to split a pizza…but they ended up each doing 2 slices each.  Cathy and I, however, ordered one of their signature pies…The Charles Street, which is described as “a local favorite combining portabella mushrooms, sundried tomatoes, and fresh garlic.”  We asked them to go light on the cheese.  It was awesome.  And Cathy said the gluten-free crust (which I could tell was white rice flour based) was better than the regular crust.  It was just what this marathoner needed the night before the run.  After that, back to the hotel for showers, some pre-race night prep and then…lots of chocolate.

We settled in a bit earlier this time, but I was pretty restless the entire night.  Very little sleep.  I don’t think I was alone.  While the rest of my room dozed…I tossed and turned and went over things in my head.  Sleep would have been nice.  When my alarm went off, I was the first up and into the bathroom…time to get dressed for race day.

Me, highly under-dressed for the weaher for the 2015 Boston Marathon
Me, highly under-dressed for the weaher for the 2015 Boston Marathon

So, let me now preface this by saying, when I packed for Boston…the weather reports were saying it was going to be about 50 degrees at the start line.  After I arrived in Boston, the forecast began to change…and change some more.  We were now looking at 42 degrees at the start with 16-20 mph winds and…yep…100% chance of rain.  Needless to say, I actually forgot the shirt I was going to wear to this marathon at home.  Literally…it was still hanging in my closet.  I also had nothing to wear to the start line to toss.  I realized that when I was packing…so I ended up bringing one of my warm blankets from home and wrapping that around me for the 2-3 hour wait at the Athlete Village.  What I ended up wearing was was my Marathon Maniacs singlet and some arm warmers.  That was going to have to do.  I mean, I could have bought something to wear from a running store, but I hate not testing my clothing out on runs.  No chafing allowed.  Running skirt, compression sleeves, toe socks, and my Newtons.  I put my hair in pigtails, but had to buy them under a hat, with the impending rain. I hate running in hats…so I was not a happy girl.

Cathy, Heather, and Jenn all took turns in the bathroom and I was a complete spaz, trying to get everything else in order to head to the buses to take me to Hopkinton and the start line.  I had made arrangements with my friends Matthew and Jodie to meet them at the Starbucks across from Boston Common (the bus loading spot) the day before.  When I had everything on, including the throw-away gloves with bear head mitten tops (a last minute CVS purchase), we all headed out.  I was carrying my banana and cereal (because I didn’t want to eat too early), and had my fuel belt stocked with GU and my water and Nuun.  We stepped out of the hotel and into the chilly, windy morning.  And we headed for Starbucks.

I spotted Jodie the minute I stepped inside and we gave each other huge hugs.  Matthew was still not around.  We waited for as long as we dared, but we had a narrow window for our corral’s bus time and we didn’t want to miss it.  I texted Matthew to say we were heading for the buses, and then handed off my phone to Cathy.  They walked us over to Boston Common, to the security check point.  We gave hugs all around and then Jodie and I stepped on in.  And we ran into Matthew.  HA!  Perfect.  We headed past most of the bus loading docks because those were filling fast.  We just kept going down further and further until we hit a shorter line.  And that was our shuttle.  We stepped inside, took seats near the back, and settled in for the ride.  As the bus pulled away, we spotted Cathy and the rest standing on the side of the road holding up a sign that read: “RUN LIKE SOMEONE IS SHOUTING GAME OF THRONES SPOILERS!”  FUNNY!  A lot of people got a kick out of it.  I waved…and the journey began.

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do.” ~Mark Twain

It felt like the longest bus ride of my life.  Matthew and I talked.  Jodie and I talked.  We mostly looked out the windows and anticipated our arrival at Hopkinton.  Nerves were high.  Excitement was high.  And for me, I was trying to figure out how I could do this race.  It wasn’t going to be pretty.  When I got the last-minute word that I could run/walk it…I put it out there that I’d love to have some company on the journey.  So many people said they weren’t running this one for time…but for the experience.  No one stepped up to take me up on the offer, and I don’t blame them.  I didn’t want to ruin anyone’s time, expectations, or experience.  But all those times I smiled and said, “No…I don’t want/need/…”…that voice inside my head was pleading, “Please…someone get me through this…someone…say you’ll stick it out with me.”

Heather, me, Cathy and Jenn on race morning before stepping out into the damp cold that would plague us the rest of the day
Heather, me, Cathy and Jenn on race morning before stepping out into the damp cold that would plague us the rest of the day

Anyway…we disembarked at Hopkinton and made our way into the Athlete’s Village.  It was a city of tents and small vendor stations for Gatorade, bagels, and the like.  Unlike NYC, this time, I had my banana with me and the rest of my cereal to polish off.  I ate some of it on the bus there.  Timing is key.  And I also needed to take my Mobic for my pain (I know…this is not a good idea, but it was necessary!).  Matthew, Jodie and I immediately got into the lines for the port-a-potties.  We met some great people behind us and chatted with them for awhile.  We took our turns and then went and found shelter under one of the tents to get off our feet and just try to wrap our head around the experience.  The tents were alive with chatter and they had their phones.  I was wrapped up in my blanket and poncho, huddled in to keep warm.  It was a very breezy morning and I was really regretting my “suck it up, cupcake!” attitude with the start line weather and wishing I had some sleeves on my shirt.  The red corral (or the one that goes off with the elites) was already being loaded up.  I waited until about 30 minutes before we’d have to be in the corrals to eat my banana.  Then, after sitting for a bit more, trying not to tighten up from shivering, the three of us heard the white bibs were being put in their corrals all the way through Wave 8.  We were Wave 8.  We got up…and we headed that way.

Me and Jodie before the Boston Marathon
Me and Jodie before the Boston Marathon

My heart was pounding as we stepped through the different checkpoints with the volunteers.  The Mylar cape I had made out of the wrap they gave us to help keep warm at start village was wrapped tightly around my legs.  My blanket and poncho adorned my upper half.  I was keeping it all in place until 5 minutes before leaving.  And I did.  Matthew branched off to go find a bathroom again and Jodie and I continued on.  We found a spot in the crowd and stood there and shivered, joking around, checking our shoes, and just mentally preparing ourselves.  I knew Jodie was going to kill it.  She’d been doing amazing things in her training.  And she’s super fast.  Hell, she qualified for Boston running a marathon in rain, thunder, lightning, and hail.  YES.  HAIL!  She was badass and this race had nothing on her.  We finally convinced ourselves to ditch our warm gear…tucking the clothing and blankets and poncho into the bags for donation or handing them off to volunteers.  The Mylar went next.  And soon, we were shivering with the rest of them.

Our wave was sent off and for the first 1/4 mile, I hung with Jodie.  The first part of Boston is downhill and she was trying not to go out too fast.  I finally let her go and settled into a pace I thought I could maintain for a little while.  Not going to lie, each step was painful, but I could tolerate it.  Matthew caught up to me before I got through the first mile.  He said, “Well, Karen…we finally got to run a marathon together.” I laughed and told him to enjoy his run.  Everyone would be smoking me this time.  I soon lost him in the crowd ahead.  And then…there was me.

I actually maintained a decent pace (not great…but under the circumstances) for the first 10K.  After I hit that though, I started needing to incorporate short walks in with the running.  I didn’t want to…but I needed to.  I have a torn labrum in the hip…I was hurting.  But…I still managed.  I maintained small walk breaks with running through the next 5-6 miles.  Each move was starting to hurt more and more.  Thankfully, there was a great crowd, and I took all the cheering and high fives I could get.  Around the halfway point is where you hit Wellesley College, and you can hear the screaming from about a half mile away.  It’s insane.  There is a reason that area is called “The Scream Tunnel.”  The women of the college were out and cheering, just like the rest of Boston, despite the horrific weather and cold.  There were a couple of women who had no tops on and were covering up with cardboard signs.  Craziness.  But that was such a rush.  You read about it…but to experience it…that’s another thing.  At about Mile 15, I slowed again, and this was where Tammy, from my running group, tapped me on the shoulder.  She looked at me and asked, sincerely, how I was doing.  I told her I was hurting.  She asked if I needed anything and when I said no, she pulled out, glancing back a couple times at me.  When I ran into her Annie May’s Sweet Cafe back in Louisville the following Wednesday, she gave me a hug and said she should have stayed with me.

Mile 16, I managed a small surge of speed, but after that, my body was done.  It literally hurt to run.  Walking was easier, so my walking became more of what I was doing.  I had 10 miles to go…and I was determined to get through them.  There were people who would call out to me from the sideline, my race number or “Maniac” for the Marathon Manaic singlet I was wearing.  They said encouraging words to me.  Wrapped an arm around me and told me to keep going.  That I was doing good.  Instead of tackling Heartbreak Hill…I had to walk the entire thing.  My heart was breaking because I had dreamed of taking on these hills.  I had a medic stop me around Mile 22 to ask what was wrong.  I told him I was doing Boston on a torn labrum and that I was run walking.  He asked if I was okay.  I nodded.  I was freezing.  But I was moving.  I had a few runners tell me FMP…Forward Moving Progress.  Every little bit made me keep pushing because every synapse of my body wanted to quit.  I am not a quitter, however.  If I cross that starting line, I’m going to cross that finish line.  Tears were pretty much part of the race outfit by this point.  The rain was coming down.  The cold, icy winds were blowing, and I was walking. WALKING…the Boston Marathon.  My heart was breaking more than my body was at this point.  I was so disappointed and angry…emotions were just bubbling over.  Another medic on the course came to walk at my side and asked if I needed a Mylar blanket or anything.  I shook my head and sobbed a “No.”  I said, “I”m almost there…I just need to get there.”  He wished me luck.  I had two Marathon Maniacs come up to me and take pictures with me.  They were just so uplifting at that moment.  I was told I was adorable.

Me running down Boylston Street toward the finish line of the 2015 Boston Marathon
Me running down Boylston Street toward the finish line of the 2015 Boston Marathon

The mental struggle at this point was more than the physical pain.  I’ve run with pain before.  But knowing that time was ticking away and this race, this race which I had wanted so bad…which I earned…was slipping away…I was WALKING my Boston Marathon…it was more painful than the present limp in my stride.  I saw the famous Citgo sign…and I knew I had just over a mile to go.

In my head, as I walked as fast as I could, I said that when I made the turn onto Hereford Street, I would run that hill and then run as much as I could manage…but RUN…down Boylston Street to that finish line.  And when the time came, that’s what I did.  Mind over matter.  Finish this race strong, even though it was the most disappointing, hardest race I’ve attempted.  I pushed up the hill on Hereford and rounded that corner to Boylston.  I started down the stretch, immediately catching sight of Cathy, Heather and Jenn, who were SCREAMING for me.  Not at me…but for me.  I made a heart with my hands, and waved…and then focused on that finish line.  It felt, literally, like it was 100 miles away.  It hurt to make that dash, if you could call it that, but I didn’t care.  I was running across that finish line.  And when I crossed it, the tears just came down.  The rain is a wonderful thing at moments like that.  I was shivering.  My lips were blue.  I couldn’t feel my fingers at all.  If my hip hadn’t hurt so much, I probably wouldn’t have known if my legs were still attached.

But I finished.

From there, I hobbled through the finishing area.  It actually took a good long while to get to the place where the volunteers were handing out medals.  I was shaking and shivering, but I bowed my head as someone slipped it around my neck.  I didn’t ever want to take it off.  A little further up was the Mylar poncho, which I was helped into.  It did little to help.  My body temperature was very low.  I was then handed some water and a bag of recovery food stuff…and I hobbled along, following the signs that would take me to the family reunion area.  It was a long, hard, cold walk.  Along the way, I had about 5 volunteers stop me to ask if I wanted to get into a bus to get warm.  I was suffering hypothermia at the finish line, but I was so focused on getting to where my friends were.  I said I was going to meet my friends and get to my hotel.  They let me go.

Sometimes, the best thing you can see after a race like that is smiling faces.  I got hugs all around and congratulations.  They told me how proud they were of me.  And I just cried.  I just…couldn’t stop.  I wanted to get to the hotel, so we started to walk that way.  I could barely walk, and Heather offered to carry me.  I told her I’d be fine…I’d just be slow.  I was beyond slow.  It seemed to take forever and the rain and wind weren’t helping.  But I got back to the hotel…freezing…sore as hell…and up to my room.  I got my gear off, got out of wet clothes, and took an amazing hot shower.  After changing and settling in on my bed…I answered texts and Facebook messages…I called my parents, who backed out of coming, and my sister.  I tried very hard to let the accomplishment shine, not the disappointment I was feeling.  I think I managed well enough.

We celebrated with cups of wine (Heather & I went high class with paper cups!) and a piece of chocolate.  We toasted to the Boston Marathon.  And then…Heather had to leave to catch a flight.  Hugs were given.  Cathy fetched me some ice…and we settled in for some peaceful relaxation in a warm hotel room until we wanted to get dinner.

So…in the end…The Boston Marathon wasn’t the dream race I had hoped to have back when I qualified a year and a half ago.  Everything went wrong along the way.  My body fell apart months before the actual event.  And I did everything I could to get to that start line without further damaging myself.  Yes…I am a finisher.  I am proud of myself for not quitting.  I am proud of myself for perservering.  I am not proud of that marathon finishing time.  I am not proud of how much I walked.  I am proud for finding out just how fucking strong I am.  THIS…is Boston Strong.  This limpy-gimpy, frozen, crying soul at the finish line…is BOSTON STRONG!

So…with it all said and done, I hobbled my way through to a finish time of 5:07:08.  I was 25262/26610 finishers overall.  I was the 11262/12022 woman to cross the finish line.  And, I was 5608/6011 in my age division.  Yeah…you can bet these statistics don’t sit well with me.  I actually didn’t want to post them.  But, you know…this is a race I won’t forget.  I struggled.  I cried.  I limped.  I walked.  I would have crawled if it came to that…if it got me to that finish line.  But I finished.  It is my worst, and yet, most memorable marathon.  It is my greatest and my worst moment in the years I have been running.  This is, by no means, the race I wanted nor dreamed of.  I can only hope that, one day, I’ll get a redo.

“Don’t worry about failures, worry about the chances you miss when you don’t even try.” ~Jack Canfield

I find out on Wednesday how my doctor wants to work on getting my hip back into running form.  I want whatever will be the best for me in the end, with the least amount of downtime, and the best option to get me back out there, running stronger than before.  Please…keep me in your thoughts and prayers.  I have a feeling I have a long road ahead of me.

I am a distance runner...
I am a distance runner…
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When Bad Things Happen To Good Runners

Never Give Up! Never Give Up!Sometimes, no matter how closely you follow the recovery rules…your body mechanics catch up with you.  And that…has happened to me.

And it’s pretty devastating.  If you’re a runner…you get it.  If not…you’ll probably find me a bit dramatic.  Hell, you might find me that way regardless…but what it comes down to is…my body is fighting back.

It all started in January.  After I ran the Charleston Marathon, I took a good bit of time off to properly recover.  I had been running myself ragged (literally) over the past year, and instead of my usual 1 week off from all activity, I took a bit longer.  But, one morning, I woke up and had a very unhappy lower back.  The left side of my back was sore…to press on and to move.  I took further time off (because you shouldn’t mess around with the back, honestly).  And then…the hip pain happened…

…and then the hip pain didn’t go away.  It was so much that it was hard to even walk.  No running at all.  After waiting an additional two weeks (missing a marathon due to weather too), I went to see a sports orthopedic doctor.  Xrays turned up nothing…which was good.  So, he sent me to physical therapy, which I started that same week.

My physical therapists are awesome.  I started off with Emily Bullerdick, PT, DPT.  And she took much of the first session to assess what was going on.  Turns out, I have a locked lower back.  AH…back to that lower back.  The entire lower back didn’t want to move, so the rest of my body…shoulders and hips, were trying to balance it out by overcompensating.  Okay…I was given some back exercises and scheduled for 4 sessions in the following two weeks.  I went…I did exercises twice a day at home…I even did them at work…and I wasn’t feeling any better.  Emily was off one day the following week, so I got to meet with another PT.  This time I met with Steven Hnat PT, DP.  He took a look at Emily’s notes and plugged away at some of what she had me doing.  Then, tried a little more, working with my nerves.  He mentioned dry needling and gave me some information on that.  I looked it over and got scheduled for a regular PT appointment and a dry needling appointment the following week.

Dry needling…is painful.  It really is.  It is also known as Intramuscular Manual Therapy (IMT)/Trigger Point Dry Needling (TDN) and is a modern Western medical modality.  Dry Needling is a treatment technique which uses these small filament type needles to release tight muscles with the goal of permanently reducing muscle pain and dysfunction.  With DN, the needle alone and its effects on the tissue is the treatment.  Physical therapists are now using this technique around the world to effectively treat acute and chronic orthopedic and musculoskeletal conditions.  .  My first (yes…first) session, Steven did dry needling in my thigh, my hip, and along my IT band.  The IT band needles he hooked up to an E-stim, which sent pulses of current through the needles and into the knotted muscles.  THAT…didn’t feel good at all.  But I did get a bit of relief from it.

The next week was a follow up with my doctor…and as the pain was subsiding he told me to enjoy Boston and to get some running in.  Emily said the same thing, and before leaving that day, she put me on the treadmill to do some light running.  I kept an easy pace and managed a relatively pain-free 1 mile.  The next day, I went over to the gym and attempted two.  I was fine while running, but when I was done, I was just sore.  It was hard to go down the stairs to do some of my post-run stretches.  And then, that weekend, I set out to do a short run on Saturday morning, and my body hated ever step.  I managed a mile and spent the rest of the day in excruciating pain.  Back to the orthopedic doctor I went…

And that was when the MRI was ordered.

I continued my physical therapy sessions, having one with the actual stretching and another round of dry needling.  This time Steven hit up my hip again, but did the E-stim to my lower back.  That was the most not-fun thing I’ve done in a long time.  I was pretty sore after that for the rest of the week.  Not in my hip…but in my back.  I continued to do my exercises until I decided they weren’t doing much for the problem…and stopped.  I literally just stopped doing anything.

My MRI was on Tuesday afternoon.  My follow-up was on Wednesday (also the 2 year anniversary of the Boston Marathon bombings…and tax day…but…well…).  So, the fate of the Boston Marathon I earned now hung in the results of an MRI.  My orthopedic doctor came in and pulled up the images.  And there…at the top of my hip joint, he pointed out the smallest of soft-tissue tears.  It was an anterior labrum tear.  Super small…but that was the reason for all the pain.

This, by the way, is a very common injury with active women…especially in their 30s.  Weird, I know.  But it’s because we have these things called HIPS!  What caused this?  It wasn’t overuse…because I hadn’t been doing anything when the pain occured.  Turns out that chronically and habitually tight muscles around joints can cause a lack of joint mobility, which, over time, too much compression on those joints can cause structural damage…most commonly labral tears.  This is especially true in young athletes.  Even sitting too much at a computer or in a car can cause habituated muscle tension that won’t go away.  I also have a tilted pelvis which made the soft tissue rub against the joint and bring on the tear sooner as well.  Ah…body mechanics.

Sitting for long periods of time has always been a problem for me.  What this comes down to is the tightness of my lower back through everything else out of whack.  Tie that in with my habitually tight and short hamstrings, and this was basically a problem I was going to face 10 years down the road regardless of whether I was active or not.  It happened to me sooner, rather than later, however.

Am I doing Boston?  I am.  I have been given permission to run/walk the Boston Marathon as I feel.  I was injected with a Cortisone shot on Wednesday as well.  I spent much of yesterday in a great deal of pain from that, but that is wearing off now, thank God.  Upon returning from what will likely be my worst marathon ever…I am going to start working on getting this all fixed.  No surgery.  But lots of hip and core strengthening.  And, we will go from there.

Is this the Boston Marathon that I wanted?  Not one bit.  While I had every intention of not racing here…but just having a good run and drinking in the experience…this was not the result that I wanted.  BUT…at least I can go there and have my race.  Maybe one day I’ll be back to the runner I used to be.  This isn’t going to stop me…it just my hinder and slow me down for awhile.

I do want to say, I did get quite a bit of love and support from people throughout this ordeal, checking in on me, asking how my pain was doing…and letting me know that they missed seeing me out there.  That was nice to know I had that kind of support because being down with an injury is so isolating.  People forget about you…and when you aren’t around…they don’t think to call or text to check in on you.  So, the fact that every now and again, my friends and running mates did, helped.  A lot.

So…Boston is going to be a painful ordeal, I believe.  But, whether it takes me 4 or 8 hours to get to that finish line…I will cross it.  Proudly.  Probably in tears.  And then…I’ll work on getting better.

Think of me on Monday, friends.  I’ll need all the support I can get.

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Product Review: Bumbalooza Gluten Free Pink Lemonade Donut Mix

Bumbalooza Gluten Free Pink Lemonade Donut Mix
Bumbalooza Gluten Free Pink Lemonade Donut Mix

Product: Bumbalooza Gluten Free Pink Lemonade Donut Mix – $7.99

I’m still working my way through some of my older Cuisine Cube products that have just been set aside.  Not that I haven’t been dying to try them…because I have.  I’ve just been so busy lately and have hardly had time to bake/cook/devour my way through every product in the span of a month.  And when a new box arrives, I get so excited that things just get pushed to the back of the pantry.  Well…no more.  I’m making a very dedicated and very focused attempt to get through some of the products I have neglected since signing up for this amazing service.

First of all…let me once again highlight what it is the Cuisine Cube does.  Cuisine Cube is a service that is offered by foodies who have sought out better and lesser-known (often times local) gluten-free products and foods.  So, if you, like me, are a gluten-free foodie…this service will be just perfect for you.  With delivery plans starting as low as $29.99, each month you will receive a box of delicious gluten-free goodness.  Inside are 5-6 items that are from smaller artisan companies.  Sometimes I have heard of them, or even tried them, but more often than not…the product is new to me and I discover a company that prides itself on better-for-you ingredients than the highly processed gluten-free foods you’ll find on the shelves of your local grocery store.

So, back in July 2014, I received an amazing box from Cuisine Cube.  One of the products that seriously caught my eye was the Bumbalooza Gluten Free Pink Lemonade Donut Mix.  First of all…DONUTS!  Hello!!  Secondly…lemony goodness.  Enough said.  I was thrilled to have this.  Not only do I own mini donut pans and regular donut pans, but I love anything lemon flavored.  And so does my roommate.  Even more…we are donut fanatics.  I have pretty much tried every gluten-free donut in the grocery store and beyond.  As far as packaged varieties at my local stores, Katz Gluten Free are, hands down, the finest.  I love the ones that my local allergy-free bakery makes and the ones that Babycakes NYC produces down at Disney World and in NYC.  But, aside from that…I’ve been less than impressed.  Seriously, I grew up in the land of Dunkin’ Donuts and then moved to the land of Krispy Kreme.  Before being diagnosed as Celiac…I loved an occasional donut treat.  But afterwards, nothing seemed to live up to the donuts I had been able to feast on up until that point.  Talk about a disappointment.

And, yes, I have even attempted to make my own, with some success…but mostly failure.  Let’s face it…when you bake donuts, they are best fresh from that oven.  Especially gluten-free versions.

Well, as it happened, my running group was getting together this past Saturday to run a very hard and hilly 10 miles together.  Afterwards, we all get together to eat snacks and just hang out and talk.  This happens once a year.  And a few of my running group do eat gluten-free (although they are not Celiacs and can cheat a little, which I can’t do!), so I figured this would be a good time to see what this product can do.  I decided, for fear of the donuts being…MEH…the following morning, to make these into mini muffins.  I had a back-up plan (gluten-free Madeleine cookies) should the mix not work out to my liking.  But…pink lemonade mini muffins sounded beyond delicious.  I hit up the store in hopes of finding the strawberry juice.  And being that it is not prime strawberry season, I didn’t want to buy strawberries and puree them, so when the strawberry juice hunt turned out nothing…I picked up blueberry juice and decided to roll with it.  That night, I started to get everything together to bake up these mini muffins.

Bumbalooza strives to find the, often difficult, balance between nutrition and taste, while still managing food allergies and sensitivities.  But with Celiac disesase and the public’s increasing consumption of chemically modified ingredients, it’s no wonder food allergies have exploded in society.  Bumbalooza prides it’s products on being made from only all-natural ingredients and as many whole grains as possible.  They use less-refined sugars and produce each mix on dedicated equipment, ensuring that their products are produced and remain completely gluten-free.  Bumbalooza creates mixes in hopes of getting parents and their children back into the kitchen together.  In fact, each recipe on the box includes steps that the kids can help with in the preparation process.

Since I have no children…this was all about me…and my runners.  But…I was the only one baking…so…

Despite owning donut pans, for the sake of the product I would be bringing to the event Saturday morning, I opted for mini muffins.  And I was calling them Blue Lemonade Mini Muffins…as I used blueberry juice.  But, hey, close enough.  Preparing the Bumbalooza Gluten Free Pink Lemonade Donut Mix was super easy.  In a mixing bowl, you simply beat the butter, add the eggs, lemon zest and berry juice and beat it again.  Then add the mix and combine.  Fill the donut pans (or in my case, mini-muffin tins) and bake in a preheated 325°F oven for about 20 minutes.  Once the muffins (or donuts) are cooked through (you can check them with a toothpick), you place them on a wire rack to cool and, should you choose, glaze them.  I made a light lemon glaze for mine, taking confectioners sugar and lemon juice, then spooning it over the top of each muffin.  It made the perfect zippy way to kick them up a bit.

How were they?  AMAZING!!  Say it with me.  AMAZING!!  These were very light and fluffy.  I loved that the lemon didn’t overpower the rest of the muffin itself.  In fact, the blueberry flavor shined through with the lemon hitting you in that glaze.  I loved that these weren’t heavy or dense.  They were soft and bouncy and just…WOW!!  I mean WOW!!  And, the rest of the group who had to or at least ventured into the gluten-free goodies seemed to like them as well.  Even my roommate is a bit addicted to them.  We have only a few leftover…but…yeah…SO good.  Now I kind of which I had used the mix to actually make donuts.  I bet they would have been out-of-this-world.  Next time.  Trust me…there will be a next time!!

The ingredients that go into making the Bumbalooza Gluten Free Pink Lemonade Donut Mix are: white rice flour, evaporated cane sugar, tapioca flour, brown rice flour, millet, coconut palm sugar, aluminum-free baking powder, xanthan gum, and salt.  That’s it.  This mix contains no gluten, no GMOs, no soy, no dairy, no nuts, and no refined white sugar.

As for the nutrition facts…this box will make 24 servings.  In that serving, this mix provides 110 calories and 0 grams of fat.  This mix contains 180 mg sodium and only 10 grams of sugar per serving.  And, these are small and fluffy for a reason, as you will not fill up on just one.  Each one only has 1 gram of fiber and 1 gram of protein.  Depending on how you prepare the mix…these will change.  I figured up the nutrition info on MyFitnessPal and figured that each mini muffin was 164 calories, 4 grams of fat, 10 mg cholesterol, 181 mg sodium, 13 grams sugar, 1 gram of fiber and 2 grams of protein.  Which, I do find pretty high for a two-bite muffin (or one bite if you aren’t a delicate princess like me).  Regardless…I don’t indulge in muffins or donuts much…so I’ll take it!

Bumbalooza has a great sounding line of gluten-free products that go beyond the Gluten Free Pink Lemonade Donut Mix.  These include Chocolate Chip Cookies, Gooey Oatmeal Bars, Sugar Cookies, Bumba Bakers Cookies, Banana Bread, Cookies & Cream Cake, and Chocolate Pudding.  All of which I am now DYING to try.  Seriously.  I want it all.

And to think, without Cuisine Cube…I never would have even known of the existence of Bumbalooza.  I now want to get another box of the Gluten Free Pink Lemonade Donut Mix and make actual donuts.  Because now I see how amazing this mix bakes up, I don’t think the donuts would lose their integrity if not eaten straight away.  So, a huge win from both Cuisine Cube and Bumbalooza.  If you are curious and want to check them out yourself…follow the links and place an order.  You will not be disappointed.

Blueberry Lemonade Mini Muffins made from Bumbalooza Gluten Free Pink Lemonade Donut Mix
Blueberry Lemonade Mini Muffins made from Bumbalooza Gluten Free Pink Lemonade Donut Mix
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Update: Charleston Marathon Official Time

Charleston Marathon - Charleston, South Carolina
Charleston Marathon – Charleston, South Carolina

It’s no secret anymore…nor was it after runners crossed that finish line on Saturday…the Charleston Marathon ran…long.  Yes.  Long.  My Garmin showed me running exactly 26.69 miles when I crossed the finish line.  It has been all over the news about the marathon that went long when the lead car took us down the wrong road and added, according to the official measurements on the tangents, an additional .1918 of a mile to the course.  (Yep, I was almost exactly .5 over!  But you take the official measurement of almost .2 miles).

Anyway, the race directors of the Charleston Marathon have adjusted all of the finisher’s times to reflect what would have been had the course not gone long.  So, my new official time for the Charleston Marathon is:

3:39:05

I am very pleased with this result, as I was when I finished on the longer course.  I went into this race not to race it, but to use it as a training run.  Time on my feet.  No goals.  No must-hit time.  Just relax and run.  Magic!

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Charleston Marathon – Charleston, South Carolina (January 17, 2015)

Me crossing the finish line of the Charleston Marathon - Charleston, South Carolina
Me crossing the finish line of the Charleston Marathon – Charleston, South Carolina

Race: Charleston Marathon

Place: Charleston, South Carolina

Date: January 17, 2015

Time: 3:40:54

First race of the year.  Why not make it a marathon, right?  Right!  Actually, I had this one on the radar since last year…so, I was very excited to finally register for it (which I did late…like in December…whoops!).  I already had a place to stay (thanks Janet Dailey!) and two amazing tour guides (shout-out to Richie and Amanda!) who spend as much time as they can in Charleston, South Carolina, taking out any sort of travel apprehension because…they know everything!  So things were definitely falling into place.

The only thing that wasn’t was, naturally, my foot.  It had been doing so well, but the week before the race, my plantar fasciitis decided it wanted to flare up again.  Not the foot that caused me issues this past summer.  Original foot.  The one with the plantar issue to begin with.  I think I need to get some new shoes…because I have worn the hell out of both pairs that I am wearing currently.

Anyway, I’d continued to train, easing up on pace and doing my speed work slower.  And it seemed that after the first two miles, it stopped hurting.  I didn’t tempt fate though…just did what I could while maintaining my training.  Foot was no bueno…but it wasn’t knocking me out.  Nope.  I could still run.  Granted 7 treadmill miles is definitely different from 26.2 miles on the road (tready running is VERY different from road running…and I prefer the road!), but for now I’m keeping speed work inside on the treadmill.  Most of my runs leading up to this marathon have been indoors due to the extreme cold.  Call me a wimp, but once the temps fall below 20 degrees, I don’t consider it safe for my body to be out running, even if it is a couple of miles.  My longest run leading into this race was back before Christmas…14 miles…after that, nothing went over 10.  Not the best way to train, but I think subconsciously, I was ignoring the fact that I signed up for a marathon.

That’s what happens when you deal with a debilitating injury for 3 months.  You get…a little nervous.  Nevermind that I ran the TCS NYC Marathon back in November.  I have a goal this year to make it out injury free.  I’m doing what I can to maintain that goal.  So, definitely under-trained for this one, for sure.

On Friday, I got up and did an easy 3-mile shakeout, still babying the foot.  I wasn’t worried about speed.  I went outside and just did 3 miles.  Home, shower, breakfast, finish packing, and then Cathy and I went to work.  We weren’t there long.  Only for a few hours, to close out accounts and enter as much as we could before the clock hit 10:30 a.m.  Then, we were out the door, to the bank, and then on the way to the Louisville airport.  Parked the car, headed inside.  I checked my bag, praying that it would get to Charleston as it had all my race gear in it (I know…never do that, but I had no choice!), and we got into the security line.  I was randomly selected to do TSA Pre-Screen…which meant I got the shorter security line, didn’t have to take off my shoes, my hoodie, or remove my laptop from my backpack.  LOVE IT!  Cathy was not as fortunate, and it took her quite a bit longer to navigate the regular TSA security line.  But, she eventually made it through.  We got to our gate and she went to grab some loaded baked potato soup from Chili’s and grabbed me a fruit cup.  We ate lunch and polished it all off just before we had to board the plane.  Good timing!  Our first stop was Atlanta…ugh.  We were also boarding in Zone 3…and had a feeling Cathy would have to check her bag due to lack of overhead space.  She did…but at least she got to do it for free.  It would meet us in Charleston as well.  With that done, we hopped on our flight and found our seats.

First stop…Atlanta.  Very brief stop at that.  We had long enough to get off the plane, go to the train, take it from A to B gates…find our gate…go to the bathroom…eat a snack bar…and then get ready to board.  At least we had time for that.  We took our seats, took flight…and read until we hit the runway at the Charleston International Airport.  The airport was really small for being an international hub, but we made our way to Baggage Claim…got our luggage than headed to Enterprise for the rental car.  Longest line ever.  For real.  It took us longer to get a rental car than it did to do anything else in any of the airports that day.  None of the other car rental places had lines, but we had already reserved a car with Enterprise, and we trust Enterprise.  So…we stuck it out.  Finally, it was our turn and we ended up with a Hyundai Elantra.  We went out to retrieve said car, piled our stuff inside, and made our way to Burke High School for the Health & Fitness Expo and Packet Pick-up.  It took us about 15 minutes to navigate to the high school, following horrible Google Map directions.  But, we made it…parked…and had to walk all the way around the building to get inside the area where the expo was being held.

That being said…we made it.  I immediately headed over to the packet pickup for the full marathon.  I got out my wallet to show my ID and was just asked for my bib number.  This was sent to me via e-mail earlier and was really easy to remember.  I replied with “Bib 113.”  And they got it down from their system of hanging bibs and handed it to me.  No ID check or anything.  They said that the t-shirt and bag pick-up were across the auditorium.  Awesome.  I went down to the end of the table to scan my chip and ensure that it was, indeed, functioning.  Then…off I went to retrieve my race shirt and bag.  The bag only contained some pamphlets for local businesses and races.  The shirt was white with a painting of Rainbow Row houses on it.  Gorgeous.  I tucked the shirt inside the bag and then went on the hunt for some GU.  Luckily the Fleet Feet booth had some for sale, and I snagged 2 Strawberry Banana, 1 Triple Berry, and 1 Mandarin Orange.  I had one with me in my luggage…so that would do.  After I left, I spotted the rack of CEP Compression Gear…and had noted that I had forgotten my recovery socks…so I went to see if they had anything in my size.  They had a pair of black and grey CEP socks…so I went back to the Fleet Feet booth and purchased those as well.  HA!  They were getting my money for sure.  With that done, Cathy went to see where she could get shuttle tickets to get from the start to the finish and then from the finish back to the start (runners got to do this for free)…and I went in search of my NYC Marathon Hard Core Runner buddy, Jennie.  We met up near the Community Coffee booth and had hugs all around and discussed how the weather would be chilly, but after NYC…eh…this was nothing.  We talked about running, families, training, outfits, and even our injuries.  She was doing a run/walk method due to an issue with her back.  We hung around and talked and Cathy returned to steal my phone and place a delivery order with the Charleston Mellow Mushroom for a gluten-free and vegan Cosmic Karma pizza for that night.  She returned and we talked a bit more with Jennie before we all said goodbye.  Cathy and I needed to hit up the local grocery store (and race sponsor), Harris Teeter, for some things for the hotel room (fruit, water, yogurt) and then get to the hotel before the pizza did.  So, we left the expo and then headed to the grocery store, following even worse Google Map directions.  I got out my cell phone and directed her.

Me with Jennie at the Charleston Marathon Expo! So great to meet one of my Hard Core Runners!
Me with Jennie at the Charleston Marathon Expo! So great to meet one of my Hard Core Runners!

We made it to the Harris Teeter and started loading up a basket with bananas, apples, Greek yogurt, water, and a Sprite Zero.  After I run a marathon, it helps calm my stomach.  It’s the only time I drink soda anymore.  We checked out at the grocery store and hopped back into the car.  And went the wrong way to the Lodge Alley Inn, where we were staying.  So, we turned around, and just as we pulled up in front of the hotel on East Bay Street, Mellow Mushroom’s delivery guy called.  He was outside of the hotel.  I told him we just pulled up and he met me on the corner.  We did some shady (not really) dealings and I gave him money and tip for the pizza and thanked him very much.  Cathy wasn’t sure what to do with the car now that we were there and put on the blinkers and left me standing there with the pizza while she went inside.  It took her about 5 minutes…and here I am with a car that was definitely not parked well and all that…just waiting.  She returned, said we were good to go, and the valet met us with a cart to put our luggage and groceries on.  He then took the keys and went with us up to our room on the third floor.  We got inside…got things put down…and gave the valet a tip.  He left to go park the car after unloading our stuff.  And I put away what needed to go in the fridge.  Then, as it was nearing 7 p.m…I said, “Can we eat pizza now?  It’s getting SO late.”  I don’t like to eat too late when I have a race.  I like everything to be digested.  So, we went into the living room, turned on Diners, Drive-In’s & Dives, and dove into the pizza.  I think I devoured it in record time.  It is so much better at the restaurant.  With it getting a little cooled off on the delivery and the wait for the room, the crust got a little soggy.  MEH.  Oh well…I ate it.  Fuel for the following morning.

Cathy’s sister and brother-in-law, Amanda and Richie, stopped by after we finished eating to make sure we were settled in.  We stood around and talked for awhile, but Amanda said she knew we had an early morning.  She said she would try to make it down to the finish, but no promises.  I told her no worries either way.  Hugs all around and promises of lots of site seeing after I ran.  I went to brush my teeth and get into my pajamas so I could climb into bed and zonk out for the night.  I didn’t sleep well that night.  I kept worrying that the two alarms I set to wake me up for the race wouldn’t go off.  And, at some point, Cathy had gotten out of her bed and turned the clock down because it “emitted too much light.”  So, as I was tossing and turning, I went to check the time and couldn’t find it.  I thought she unplugged it and was now pissed because I couldn’t reassure myself that I wouldn’t oversleep.  UGH!  The alarm went off a bit later…I got up…did my usual first alarm stuff…then climbed back into bed for less than an hour.  More tossing and turning.  Second alarm.  Up to change and get ready for the race.  I never felt so tired and unenthusiastic in my life.  I grumbled a bit at her after I woke her up so she could get ready about the clock thing.  The next few nights, the clock was left untouched.

We were up…and I ate my  serving of cereal, as I often due on race morning.  She had a breakfast bar.  I filled up my water bottles with my water and electrolyte drinks, tucked my GU packets into pockets, and got pinned up with my race bib.  It was 36 degrees that morning and I went back and forth on wearing a tank top or a short sleeve shirt.  Given it was in the 30s, I opted for the shirt.  I made sure my anklet with wings on it that my mom and dad got me for Christmas was on my ankle, then put on my hat, gloves, and coat.  I was as ready as I was going to be.  Grabbing two bananas for the road, we headed out.  The valet had our car ready and we got inside, heading off to the start line, near where packet pickup was at Burke High School.  We parked in one of the nearby parking lots with over an hour in time to spare, so I leaned the seat back and took a nap.  Seriously.  I was grumpy and tired and my foot had been bugging me slightly, so I said, “Screw it…I’m napping.”

Me taking a nap before the Charleston Marathon
Me taking a nap before the Charleston Marathon

No argument from Cathy, although she took a picture on my phone and put it up on Facebook. HA!  She made me open my eyes around 7:15 to get out, stretch, eat my banana, and get acclimated.  So…I reluctantly peeled myself out of the car.  It was chilly, but not too bad.  I walked over to the starting area where runners for both the marathon and half marathon were clustering.  Some were being interviewed on camera.  Some were talking with friends.  I handed Cathy my banana and did some actual stretching.  Especially with the foot…although it really didn’t help.  Meh.  Then, at about 7:30, I ate my banana and then continued to stretch until I decided I was done with that.  We then looked around at all the runners, noting that most of them were doing the half marathon.  I saw some great running tights that I now need to find and purchase for myself.  And I noticed a guy near where I was standing who was going to go running in…sandals.  Ouch.  But, hey, to each their own.

The announcer said we were getting close to go time and that there were 49 states and 7 countries.  The holdout state who didn’t show up…Hawaii.  Naturally.  Cathy said she was going to go get her spot to watch the start…so she wished me luck and I went to move further back into the pack.  My goal for this race was to run it smart, run what I felt, and to run the entire way.  With the foot acting up as of late though, I wasn’t sure how much of this I could accomplish.  In the end, it’s just about crossing that finish line.  No time goal for me…just to run well.  I was also dedicating this race to a friend of mine, who I won’t list by name, but simply call her out by her first initial – N – who is going through a rough patch and I wanted to just run this for her.

The Charleston Marathon benefits the arts, so two students of a local school of the arts beautifully sang the National Anthem.  And, moments after that…we were told to get ready…and GO!

We were off!

I started my Garmin as I crossed the start line, flashed a wave at Cathy as I ran by, and joined the very crowded start for an easy pace.  It had to be an easy pace…which was good.  Everything at the start was just crowded with both the marathon and half marathon runners, that it was just a slow start.  Perfect.  This kept me from going out too fast.

And that sort of set the pace (literally) for the remainder of the race.  With one little glitch.  After perfectly hitting that first mile, something went wrong.  My watch beeped heading into Mile 2…and it was .25 miles further down the road that the mile marker stood.  Um…perhaps they were getting a perfect 26 mile marking?  I was trying to figure it out, but my brain wasn’t wrapping around it.  Ah well…sometimes this happens and it fixes itself later on.  I just kept on going.  Miles 2 – 3 were spent on the beautiful coat line, with the palmeto trees, the battery, and the gorgeous mansion houses.  I was just loving the scenery.  Beautiful morning and a beautiful run.

Miles 3 – 9 were all spent on King Street.  The first part of King Street being the shops and stores that you would find around most downtowns.  There were clutches of people there to cheer on runners.  I even noticed a Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams shop just before my watch beeped to Mile 5.  I love Jeni’s…

Ahem.

The other half of King Street was more industrial and a lot quieter.  Once all the people and the shops were passed…and the houses gone…there was only the industrial district.  Granted, there were race volunteers, police, and even entertainment scattered throughout, but much of this was definitely out of the way and going to be a bit of a lull in the small crowd that had been spectating before.

Just before Mile 10 there was the split for the half marathon and full marathon happened.  This was slightly confusing as the race official said, “Split after the water station.”  It meant…right after the water station.  I was running along and both half and full marathoners were weaving over to get the water/Gatorade…and quite a few of us thought that the turn was up ahead where the half marathon continued on.  But a race volunteer saw my yellow bib and said, “Full marathon turn here…RIGHT HERE!”  Sharp pivot and off I went in the correct direction where some orange cones were set up.  This was sort of a gravely area that gave way to broken pavement and then made a bit of a turn to an area that was an old Navy base.  It was really fun to run in an area where all the signs said that proper identification was needed to enter.  HA!  This section of the run was pretty brutal…just because there was no one out there.  Up until you make a turn to head out to Cooper River Marina.  There was a group of cheerleaders out there as you headed onto the marina.  This section was hard because about 3/4 of the way up the marina, there was a sign that had you turn around.  Pinpoint turn.  One of those turns my friend, Natalie, hates.  I hate them too.  This totally messed with the cadence and pace I had at the time, but I turned…and then took back off the other way.  As we came off the marina, our time chips were read off.  This was supposed to be around Mile 11.9…but as we know…I was ahead of the mile markers.

As I was around my halfway point, I saw Jennie, heading toward the old Navy base where I had just come from.  We high-fived as we passed and I told her she was doing great.  She was.  And I hoped I would get to see her at another point.  With this being said, let me point out that at this point, we have runners running one way and then the other way…in the same area…without cones up to keep the groups apart.  In straightaways, like this part…it was fine.  But when you’re trying to make turns on the tangents…this made for a right mess.  Seriously.  You had runners going opposite ways trying to occupy the same area.  It was messy.  Just before my watch beeped for Mile 15, we rejoined the half marathon route and headed up towards North Charleston.

Me heading into Mile 18 of the Charleston Marathon - Charleston, South Carolina
Me heading into Mile 18 of the Charleston Marathon – Charleston, South Carolina

Just before Mile 16, we branch off once again from the half marathon runners.  The half marathon runners kept going straight.  The marathon runners turned left onto McMillan Avenue.  Now, Cathy had said she was going to try to catch me somewhere between Mile 17 and Mile 18…so I started looking for her as my watch hit Mile 17…and then further up the road…the Mile 17 marker was standing.  There were a few clumps of people here and there…but not many.  But as I was heading into Mile 18, there she was…under a bridge with a small clump of people.  She started yelling, “GO TWIN!  GO MY SON!”  It was awesome.  As she snapped a picture, I flashed some thumbs up and she said, “Come on…look happy!”  LOL!!  But, it turned out to be a great photo.  And as I was heading out she shouted, “SEE YOU AT THE FINISH!”

So started the miles of looping through neighborhoods and schools.  No…seriously.  It was just this back and forth through turns and twists and it was just mind boggling.  As I was heading into Mile 19, I saw runners come back my way, which meant…more doubling back was ahead.  I heard the photographers complaining about having a race that criss-crosses like this.  And I totally saw the validity in their point.  It just became chaotic at points with runners occupying the same space, once again, going different directions.  So, we wound up and around these roundabouts, of what I think they call Park Circle.  As the miles ticked down, we ran past Academic Magnet School.  So many twists and turns and out and backs.  It was dizzying.  Thank goodness for the arrows to direct us the correct way.

It was about Mile 22 that my pace started to slow.  And it wasn’t that I was tired.  It was that my foot started to act up.  It had behaved for the most part all the way up to that point, but now each step was starting to hurt.  I wasn’t going to give up.  I was four miles away and hadn’t walked yet. I was doing this thing.  So, I gritted my teeth, literally, and just focused on getting to that finish line.  Mile 23 was much the same, and I eased up a bit more.  Mile 24 felt like it had a bit of a downhill to it, but I slowed up some more, while still keeping with my plan to run the entire race.  The course turns back toward the old Navy base and to the Noisette Park.  This area was stunning, with views of the Cooper River, huge houses, the old base, etc.  We were back on the same course as the half marathon runners.  And there were a few still out there.  Two miles.  I told myself two miles.

Before I knew it, I was making a turn and being told that I had one more turn ahead to the finish.  My watch had long since beeped Mile 26.  I had no idea how much further I had to go, but I knew I had to be almost to the finish line, which was located in front of North Charleston High School.  There was a definite crowd down here.  And as I spotted one more final turn, I saw Cathy right on the corner, screaming for me to GO!  I dug deep, and pushed it.  That finish line was right ahead.  And as I crossed that finish line, I threw my arms up in the air and just…took in the moment.  I had finished my 9th marathon!  Charleston Marathon…done.  I paused my Garmin and moved through the chute to obtain my medal.  I grabbed some water and made a turn and saw Cathy heading my way.  She gave me a hug and told me how well I did.  I told her I was hurting really bad.  But…I felt good.  I checked my Garmin…26.69 miles it said.

We meandered out of the crowd toward where the after party was happening.  Runners were given free beer (not my thing…for obvious reasons) and free shrimp and grits (also not my thing, for obvious reasons).  I went to go elevate my feet and call my mom and dad to tell them how I did…but as we were heading that way, I said we needed to get my official time at the results booth.  We doubled back a little and went to do just that.

And there it was…3:40:54.

Me after finishing the Charleston Marathon - Charleston, South Carolina
Me after finishing the Charleston Marathon – Charleston, South Carolina

BRILLIANT!  I couldn’t believe it.  I was so happy with the time for my first Ultra Marathon (HAHAHA!).  Well, it was my first marathon I went into feeling semi-ready.  The only problem was my nagging plantar fasciitis, which I only aggravated in those last 4 miles.  But hitting that finish line still feeling strong was an amazing feeling.  With my official results now listed, I went to get my feet up and call my parents.  Cathy went to claim the free shrimp and grits, which she said were watery and not all that good.  She picked out the shrimp and ditched the rest.  After I got off the phone with my parents, I was ready to head out.  Amanda hadn’t made it to the finish…but after a shower and a change of clothes, we were all heading out for some sushi and then sight seeing.  So, Cathy and I hopped onto the shuttle bus to go back to the start where the car was parked.  I was moving slow, each step a little painful.  But we got on the bus and found a seat.  We were near the emergency exit and when we sat down, the seat pretty much sank.  Leave it to us.  Also, apparently after hitting a hard bump, the lever lifted up on the emergency door and the buzzer and alarm started sounding.  Cathy managed to get that turned off eventually.

We were returned to the start line and I hobbled with Cathy’s help back to the car.  I settled in, turned on the heat, and she drove us back to the hotel.  I got cleaned up, Amanda came over, and we went out for the rest of the day.  It was an amazing day.  I couldn’t have asked for a better time.

So, the official results of the Charleston Marathon are that I ran 26.69 miles in 3:40:54.  I was 112/1230 finishers over all.  I was 26/580 females to cross the line.  And I was 10/464 in my age division.  I am over-the-moon with these results.  I felt so good (save for the last four miles) for this entire race.  And I feel it’s because I’ve taken a step back on the intensity of my training.  I am resting and recovering better.  It’s been awhile since I felt I could even do that.  It was a great confidence booster.

Later, it came out that the lead vehicle took a wrong turn after Mile 1 and that’s what tacked on the extra .25 miles to the race.  The race directors at the Charleston Marathon are remeasuring the race and adjusting everyone’s time to the 26.2 miles.  But that might not happen until next week.  So stay tuned for a new official time.  Regardless…I’m damn proud of my performance and how I did on this run.  Long, slow distance.  Gorgeous scenery.  Not perfect…but not bad either.  It was great to run in Charleston.  What a fantastic way to explore this historic city.

And N…(you know who you are!)…this one was for you!

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Too much of a good thing…

Too much of a good thing...
Too much of a good thing…

In the U2 song, Numb, Bono croons the words “Too much is not enough…” repeatedly over the monotone and droning vocals of the Edge as he lists off things that society, or you, the listener, should not do.

Too much is not enough…

But…what happens when too much is, really, too much?  What happens when you cave to the pressures of society, of the media, of work, of your peers, of yourself?  What happens when you get into what, you think, are healthy habits…but in reality, you’re only doing yourself more harm?  What happens when too much is more than enough?

Welcome to the world, sweetheart!  It’s abusive.  It’s judgmental.  And, if you let it, it will get the best of you.  It will get inside your head and tell you that you aren’t good enough, smart enough, fast enough, thin enough…even if, in reality you are.  You simply start believing that your best…or, you, in general, are just not enough.

And that’s when it gets dangerous.  Because there are many ways this scenario could play out…but the common three are:

  1. You believe those inner demons…and you start taking things to excess.
  2. You ignore it all – you’re happy…no one and nothing should make you feel otherwise.
  3. You become depressed…and stop everything that once made you feel good.

We, as society, and especially women, feel like we have high standards to live up to in this world.  Look at what the media feeds us.  How many times are we bombarded with beauty magazine covers telling us how we can be thinner, prettier, loved, and why on our own, we just aren’t good enough?

The worst part is…we begin to believe it. We find flaws and faults in our lives, our bodies, our families, our friends, our homes, our food, etc.

So…we turn to things we believe will make us happy.  Some of us join fitness clubs, or diet, or join Weight Watchers, or workout from home.  And some of us believe we take matters into our own hands.  And we pay out $100+ for the latest technology gizmo…to be worn to tell you how lazy you are being and to get up and move your ass.

Yes, friends…I am speaking of those evil activity trackers.  Be it the Nike Fuel Band, Jawbone, Garmin, Misfit, Fitbit…or any other item out there…we are shackling ourselves and training our brains to believe that if we don’t rack up enough steps or enough points or get all the lights to flash, then, ultimately, we have failed the day.

THIS…was my life for the last 2 years.  And, while these little bands you wear around your wrist are good to, perhaps, provide a usually inactive person with incentive to get active…it becomes a whole new demon when you are already active.

My foray into the world of activity trackers began just after Christmas back in 2012.  My roommate had heard me, countless times, say that I wanted a Nike Fuel Band for Christmas.  At first, she thought I was interested in another fuel belt for my long runs.  That was until I pointed out the commercial that was, literally, everywhere that year during the holidays.  Lo and behold…when I returned home from visiting my family for the holidays…a Nike Fuel Band awaited me.  I immediately charged it and got it set up to begin tracking my activity.

Meeting goals was easy for me.  I am a runner.  When I would go out for my morning runs, 5 miles would get me to the pre-set goal.  I upped the goal for Fuel Points (yeah…Fuel Points earn you nothing…just bragging rights…or something…which no one really cares about anyway!) and still would meet it, often before the sun came up.  I loved my Nike Fuel Band.  It was my watch.  It tracked my steps (kind of!), it showed me how active I was by lighting up lights.  I would start each morning with one red dot.  Well…that’s not good.  I need to get to the fireworks and the word GOAL.  I would get dressed.  Head out to run or go to the gym.  And, yes, usually by the time I was settling in for coffee…most, if not all, of the lights would be lit up.  Goal met…and I still had the rest of the day to go.

It became an obsession.  I should have seen the warning signs, but in my head, I was doing something good for me.  I was visiting my friend Jenn for New Years that first year.  The weather was hideous.  Seriously.  So, that morning I just sort of…ran in place in her kitchen for what I estimated would be a 5 mile run.  My Nike Fuel Band didn’t budge much.  But we still had a few stores to hit, a movie to see, and then return home for dinner.  But, once we returned home, I was still shy on my Fuel Points, by about 2000 points.  I couldn’t believe how often I thought walking around Half Price Books was giving me a good workout, but in reality, it wasn’t doing much.  Frustrated that my streak of consecutive days that I hit my goal would be broken, I helped get dinner prepped and in the oven…and then proceeded to run up and down her steps.  Yes.  I did this probably about 50 times in order to meet my goal.  It was the first time it hadn’t been hit by lunch.  It was after 7 p.m.  But…goal met.  My Nike Fuel Band display erupted into the fireworks of red, orange, yellow and green.  GOAL blinked at me.  I could now relax.  I could now actually enjoy my stay.  Because…running up and down your friend’s steps is SO much more important than time spent with said friend, right?

Same thing happened when I went to Uitica, New York, to run in The Boilermaker 15K.  I was in the car most of the day, and despite little walk/jog sessions at rest stops and lunch stops, and the stroll to and from and around the expo…my goal hadn’t been hit.  And it was getting late.  My friend, Jean, who I was staying with, was prepping the futon and air mattress for myself and my friends to crash out on.  My best friend from high school, Jenn, was visiting that night.  We were talking and having a great time getting caught up.  but as the evening was winding down, I hit the button on my Fuel Band to check my progress.  I wasn’t even in the green lights yet.  Goal wasn’t even close to being hit.  So, I honest-to-God, stood up and started doing jumping jacks in Jean’s living room.  My friends put up with it.  Jean even suggested a move she learned in her weight lifting class…seal jacks.  I should have been relaxing before a race, enjoying the company with my friends and all, but I was so focused on making that word GOAL flash up on the face of that shackle around my wrist.  I got there…finally…and Jenn had to leave and the rest of us had to get some sleep.  I felt I could do that now…with a clear conscience.  I hit my Fuel Points goal.

Needless to say, my Nike Fuel Band didn’t last 6 months before it literally crapped out on me.  It just stopped working.  I contacted Nike and they had me send it back to them.  I was frustrated that they couldn’t just overnight me a new one because, “how was I supposed to hit my fuel point goal if I didn’t have one to wear?”  I was told to use the Nike+ app on my phone, which would help keep my streak alive.  I refuse to walk around with my phone attached to me at all times, so I grumbled and groused and mailed off my dead Fuel Band, being told that if it couldn’t be fixed…a new one would be sent my way.

A couple of weeks later, a shiny, new Fuel Band arrived.  I had to set everything back up and now start my streak over.  It was frustrating.  The entire time I was without my little shackle, I didn’t live life any differently.  I still went to the gym.  I still ran.  I did everything I was doing before, I was just doing it without a wristlet to congratulate me on a good effort and a job well done.  But, I couldn’t even begin to count the times I said, “I wish I had my Fuel Band.”

That is NOT normal behavior.

But, now I could get back on track.  I could earn those worthless and pointless Fuel Points and just kill each day with my activity.  I was back.

Until…the Fuel Band choked on me again.  This time, I gave up on it.  I didn’t want to send it back and wait weeks to receive a new one.  I couldn’t fathom being without my little handcuff of activity.  I tossed it.  And immediately hopped on the Fitbit bandwagon.  Because, I obviously wasn’t being active at all…and needed some sort of reinforcement that I was, actually, doing something.

See how this gets into your head?

So, Fitbit it was.  The only problem was…this wrist accessory didn’t have a watch.  The Fitbit Force hadn’t hit stores yet…so I got the Fitbit Flex, which worked on 5 lights lighting up to let me know if I hit my activity goal.  It wasn’t what I was used to…and I hated not having a time option, but…eh…the price I would pay to have something tell me if I was moving or not.  I wore this around for a little while, tracking my activities and effort through those lights.  The bad part, much like the Nike Fuel Band, was that I’d have to remove it to charge it every couple of days.  But, small price to pay.

And, you better believe I picked up the FitBit Force when it hit stores.  Now I did have a clock.  And it could tell me how many flights of stairs my activity would equal out to be.  Yes…this was new and different and fun and…every day I wanted to make sure I hit my steps goal, and see how many flights of stairs that would equal out to be.  It was my new thing.

Until I had an allergic reaction to it.  Bye-bye Fitbit Force.  Back to the Fitbit Flex I still owned.  Because, I obviously needed something to tell me how active I was being, right?  Right?!  Because as a runner and a three-times-a-week gym rat…I certainly wasn’t being active enough.  That was how my brain was ticking.  I needed to have that extra visual now.  I was like an addict…and these activity trackers were my drug.  I couldn’t live without it.  Even when the tracker broke my wrist out in a rash…I couldn’t go without it.

I started taking spin classes at the gym, and in order to get my activity tracker to realize I was doing something on a bike, I would take it off my wrist and attach it to my shoe.  I did this religiously.  God forbid I take a fitness class and not get credit for it, right?  This is how programmed I had become.  I would do things like walk back and forth in a small area in order to get all those lights lit up.

And when I was sidelined with an injury…it became a much more difficult task.  I continued to do everything I could to get those lights up without the use of my mileage from running.  And I managed it.  Up until one day when I was heading out of town for a weekend away.  The battery power on my Fitbit was low.  I needed to charge it but…oops…I was at the office, needing to get on the road immediately…and my charger was at home.  I knew some of the ladies at the office used Fitbit…but none of them had the charger that I needed for mine.  I literally was in a frantic panic.  I was close to tears.  And my roommate sighed and said, “Well…I guess we could swing by the apartment…”

And that was when it hit me.

How blind was I that I couldn’t see this before?  This little cuff around my wrist was making me a slave.  A slave to normal, everyday, fun activities.  My goal wasn’t that I was moving, it was how much I could move and would my bracelet actually pick up on said activity.  Would I be the most active person of my group of friends?  I had to, and I mean, had to hit that goal every single day.  No questions about it.  If not, I got frustrated with myself.

Beyond that…an 8 mile tempo run was no longer good enough.  If I didn’t hit my goal with run, I had to do more.  I was gorging myself on exercise.  I was making every waking moment and every movement that I made a competition.  One between me and my activity tracker.  It was a sickness…and it took my battery dying before a long trip to make me realize just how addicted and how stupid I had become.

I threw it away.  That very moment, that very day.  I threw it away.

And suddenly…I felt so free.  I felt like a huge burden had been lifted from me.  Life just…felt so much better.  I could breathe again.  I could go to spin class and not stress over how fast I could move my feet to get in the “steps” that I felt I needed in order for my active life to have meaning.  I no longer dreaded yoga.  You don’t get much credit on these trackers for activities like yoga and weights…sure…you’re being active but…HA…you aren’t moving enough for these activity trackers to really register it.  All of the pressure I was putting on myself…all of the stress of having to meet a goal each and every day…*POOF*…gone.  Just like that.

I have never looked back.  My life returned.  Suddenly…my hard 8 mile tempo run was enough.  I mean, for crying out loud, I had just run 8 miles.  That was all I needed.

It also began to occur to me that if I really looked around…it was the weekend warriors who were the ones tied down by their activity trackers.  Those who defined themselves as any sort of athlete…professional or simply someone who was active in a particular activity…was not wearing a damn shackle to alert them as to how active they are.  They didn’t care how many steps they took or how many flights of stairs that equaled out to.  They didn’t care how many inaccurate calories it told them they burned or how many inaccurate miles they had walked/ran/skipped/hopped/biked/slithered/frolicked/somersaulted, etc.  They did their activity and it was enough.  They cross-trained and it was enough.

I fell into this group.  I wasn’t a weekend warrior.  I was active throughout the week.  I didn’t need a device to judge me or leave me feeling judged.  I didn’t need a device to lay a guilt trip on me.  Being an athlete means that I live life by the numbers.  Pace.  Miles.  Speed.  Distance.  Time.  I didn’t need to add something else to the mix.  Something that, obviously, was putting more stress and more pressure on me.  Life is hard enough.  Sports are hard enough.  Adding more pressure on yourself leads to overdoing it and pushing beyond what you are capable of…sometimes causing injuries.

I didn’t need that kind of pressure in my life anymore.  I was doing more than enough as it was.  Why become a slave to a stupid little bracelet that either said I was enough or I was a loser.  I am an athlete.  Not a weekend warrior.  I didn’t need it.  And, after giving it up, I no longer wanted it either.

Exorcise anorexia…is real.  And I was on the very brink of becoming a victim of this serious disease.  I wasn’t excessively exercising, but I was doing more than I needed to in my training.  I felt my self-worth was only based on my physical performance.  When I didn’t place in a race, I was beyond hard on myself.  It didn’t matter that I had a good run, maybe even PR’d…I didn’t feel like I was successful because I didn’t live up to the high bar I set for myself.

There is certainly a time and a place for activity trackers, but I think people who already lead active lives don’t need to even bother with them.  Weekend warriors or those simply starting to find a way to get fit and active, sure…lock yourself into one of these little wrist shackles.  It may or may not make any difference.  But if you, like me, are already active…this little device not only adds pressure to your already stressful and difficult routine throughout the week…but it also can lead to damage to your body, poor performance, and…even even disordered eating.

Before you decide to purchase or live your life based off a little activity tracker, I ask you to really ask if it is something you need in your life.  Be active.  Eat well.  Life for yourself.  Not lights on a little bracelet.  Ditch it…and find your freedom again.  It will be the best thing you will ever do for yourself as an athlete.

Trust me.

I had to find this out for myself.

I began this blog with lyrics…I’ll sum it up with lyrics…this time by the amazing Sam Smith.

“Too much of a good thing won’t be good for long…Too much of a good thing won’t be good anymore…”

Everything in moderation. Even the good things.  Yes…even the good things.

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Looking back…and looking ahead…

I am, literally, a few hours away from entering 2015.  It is often a tradition of mine to lay out my mileage goal for the upcoming year.  I did this the past couple of years, surpassing my goal the first year…and falling short in 2014.  I had hoped to run 2014 miles in 2014.  Then, I was injured for about 3 months, and running wasn’t even an option.  So, with my final run of the year logged this morning in the bitter cold (my water bottles froze)…my total mileage this year came out to be 1543.86…leaving me exactly 470.14 miles shy of my goal.

I hate it when I don’t meat goals.  It’s aggravating and my perfectionist Virgo self doesn’t handle that well.  Not one bit.  This goal was definitely obtainable…until my foot was injured.  So, this year…I’m doing something a little different.

No mileage goals.  I can’t handle another year of disappointment should I, once again, fail to meet them.  Part of having goals is obtaining them.  In 2014…I just couldn’t hit the mark.  It was impossible when I was out for as long as I was.

Get used to disappointment, right?

The thing is…I’m not built that way.  This girl is a go-getter.  This girl is a fighter.  This girl likes results.  This girl…is literally falling apart these days.  Not physically.  But mentally.

You know that book PostSecret?

Well…I have my very own RunSecrets to share…

RunSecret #1
RunSecret #1

 

RunSecret #2
RunSecret #2

 

RunSecret #3
RunSecret #3

 

RunSecret #4
RunSecret #4

 

RunSecret #5
RunSecret#5

 

RunSecret #6
RunSecret #6

So…there it is.  A look into what has been rolling around in my brain as of late.  I’ve slowed down.  And, I won’t lie…this bothers me.  It bothers me a lot.  I feel like I lost quite a bit of fitness and endurance when I had to take a hiatus from running.  So…this coming year, I don’t want to set myself up for failure and disappointment.  So, I have a few simple goals in mind:

  1. Remain injury free
  2. Run the hell out of the Boston Marathon
  3. Try out a new distance
  4. Travel far and run there
  5. Eat better
  6. Train harder, but smarter
  7. Run with different people at different paces – challenge myself!
  8. Remember that can’t run like anyone else but me…so stop comparing my speeds against my peers
  9. Run a race on my birthday with some friends to celebrate going up an age division
  10. Have more confidence

Overall, 2014 wasn’t a bad year for me.  But it sort of just brought about new challenges and some very unexpected rough spots with my running.  But, there were high points too.  And I came out of 2014 with 6 marathons under my belt, bringing me to 8 full marathons total.  I became a Marathon Maniac.  I learned how to push myself to my limits in the Dopey Challenge at Disney World.  I deepened some friendships (you couldn’t even begin to know how much a text or phone call from my friend Kelsey would lift my spirits during my injury) both on the roads and off.  I discovered that marathon running slows you down.  I spent a few great races with some of my best friends cheering me on from the sidelines.  My grandpa finally got to come to a race and see me run.  I only wish I had been in better shape at that point (foot injury was not completely healed).  I ran a mile with my 8 year old nephew.  He’s amazing.  I ran a half marathon on a broken toe.

The difficult part leading into 2015 is going to be overcoming my fears and learning how to just focus on me and not compare myself to others.  I can only run as well as I can run.  I can’t run like anyone else.  What I have lost in speed and fitness…I will gain back.  It might be a slow process…but I’ll get there.  If there is anything I learned about myself in 2014 it’s that I’m tough…and I am determined.  I’ve just fallen a bit off track.  But with a little focus and a lot of self-control…I’ll get back to where I’m comfortable.  I might even overcome some of my fears.

For all of you who have stuck with me…thank you.  Here’s to a wonderful 2015.

 

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Fast Freddie Five Mile Foot Feast – New Albany, IN (November 27, 2014)

Me after finishing the Fast Freddie Five Mile Foot Feast - New Albany, Indiana
Me after finishing the Fast Freddie Five Mile Foot Feast – New Albany, Indiana

Race: Fast Freddie Five Mile Foot Feast

Place: New Albany, Indiana

Date: November 27, 2014

Time: 38:15

One does not simply Turkey Trot in New Albany, Indiana.  Oh no.  Not here.  In New Albany…we have what is known as a “Foot Feast.”  What, pray tell, is the difference?  Nothing.  But, why trot for turkey or dash for drumsticks when you can simply feast on everything!

I love the Fast Freddie Five Mile Foot Feast.  Regardless of the weather being atrociously cold most Thanksgiving mornings around here, when all is said and done…I adore this race.  It is, literally, right outside my door.  Held at the 4-H Fairgrounds right across the street from my apartment complex.  It doesn’t get any more convenient than that.  It remains the least stressful race that I run…every year.

So, leave it to me and my Type A, Virgo mind to stress me out.

First of all, the night before Thanksgiving is always…I repeat…always super busy for me.  This year, I was preparing desserts to take to dinner.  But first, I needed to pick up my packet at the 4-H Fairgrounds (which I did on my lunch break), then, after work, traverse traffic over to Frankfort Avenue in Louisville, Kentucky to pick up my special holiday order from Annie May’s Sweet Café.  Gluten-free stuffing and gluten-free croissant rolls awaited.  There was no holding me back.  And…it was the eve of a race.  And while Cathy and I almost went to Jason’s Deli for soup that evening, we instead ended up across the parking lot at Blaze Pizza.  Keeping with tradition…gluten-free pizza the night before a race.  I think, in the end, it made me feel a little more at ease noshing on a thin-crust gluten-free and vegan pizza.

Afterwards, we were winging back to the apartment so that I could start baking my gluten-free and vegan marbled pumpkin cheesecake and start putting together pink salad…for desserts the following day.  It took up the rest of the night and I found myself shifting things in the fridge much later than I would have liked, but getting both the cheesecake and the pink salad inside.  Tight fit…but they were in and chilling.  That was the important thing.

Tea…then sleep.

I slept really well, waking up around 6 a.m. with the coffee brewing.  As I didn’t really need to be in any big rush I just sort of ducked into my closet and started pulling out what I was going to wear.  Capri pants, my thermal top with the turtle neck, and compression sleeves.  Done.  I dressed.  I glanced out the window to see if I could see the finish line set-up going on.  What greeted me next, however, was SNOW.  S-N-O-W.

“Awww…hell!” I said.

I think I kept hoping that it was an illusion or a dream…but each time I checked…the white stuff was still there.  I ate breakfast when my roomie staggered out…which consisted of cereal.  Then, after puttering around for a little while (which I should have been stretching), my roomie went to go and prepare herself for spectating.  She came back out and walked over to the front door, pulling it open.

In rushed this cold, wintery gust of air that literally blew right through me.  I sat up from the rug I was just lounging on.  “Oh. My. God.  Do I need another layer?”

She shrugged and went back into her room.  And I was left to ponder the age-old…how to dress for this race problem.

Joy.

After a lot of back and forth, while Cathy suited up in 5 layers to stay warm…I decided to suck it up (gluten-free) cupcake and just wear the top I had on.  I could keep my fleece on until go time.  And with Cathy bundled up and me really not wanting to step outside…the time had come to make our way down to the 4-H Fairgrounds.  Just a short walk across the parking lot of our apartment building.  But in the cold air…not as much fun.

Our downstairs neighbor was unloading stuff from her car and she saw us and asked if I was running this morning.  I told her I was doing the 5 miler right across the street.  She wished me luck.  We continued down toward the road and a window of one of the vehicles parked in the drive of the apartment complex rolled down the window.  It was Art from my spin class.  He and his family were doing the run too.  We talked briefly and he introduced me to his wife who was really curious about my marathon running.  And then…he went to stay warm for a few more minutes and I went over to the base camp…the fairgrounds.

Runners were huddled together trying to keep warm.  I noted who the elite runners were.  This is evident by their lack of clothing on seriously cold days…the singlets with the short-shorts.  And walking around like it’s really 90 degrees out and we’re just all big babies.  These, friends, are people who win races.  I am NOT one of these people!  Remember, I debated an extra layer.  So, I stretched, because I forgot to do it in the warmth of my apartment, and not soon after, Freddie was having everyone fill up the street because this race starts at 9 a.m. SHARP.  I joined the masses and moved up toward the front of the line, without being in front.  There was still some traffic trying to come through, so we made room.  Some brave souls ran sprints through the cars.  I just stayed off to the side and tried to stay warm.  I had shed my fleece jacket at this point.  And with the wind, it was biting cold that morning.

Finally, the cars cleared and we spread out.  I moved more toward the other side of the road.  Fred let us know that he would give us the on your marks command and a whistle.  This year…he blew the whistle.

We were off.

I was not running this year for time. I couldn’t.  Not with the foot problem, the broken toe, and the lack of running (except for crazy distance races) since July.  Honestly…I took so much time off this year, I felt like a freakin’ tortoise as we started up the first hill to go over the overpass.  I usually incorporate this route in some way, shape, or form, in my training in the summer.  But as I wasn’t allowed to run all freakin’ summer…the route felt brand new to me.  You’d think my legs would remember it.  Well…maybe it was the icy cold morning, but…they felt like they had never run it before.

As we crossed over the interstate, there was a patch of ice on the overpass.  Everyone near me started yelling “ICE!,” so I did the logical thing and quickly moved away.  I sprained my ankle last year and required physical therapy after slipping on ice.  I’m done with injuries, okay?  Freakin’ done.  I’m still working on the recovery.  So…yeah…I moved.  Down the hill and to the light where we make our first turn.  One mile…done.

The rolling ups and downs of Mount Tabor road are what we are greeted with.  It feels good, now that my legs have warmed up that first mile.  I wish I could say the same for me.  I could no longer feel my face.  I wasn’t even sure it was still attached.  Pressing on, I took the hills as I usually do…with power.  I figure, I want to earn the downhill recovery, I’m going to best the hills.  And these weren’t bad.  Nope.  Mile 2…done after turning onto Grant Line Road.

Grant Line Road takes us to Sam Peden Community Park.  We duck inside near the fire department.  This is where the water stop is located.  I think most people decided it was too cold to deal with water as more people than usual just ran right past the group manning the table.  We head up an incline and it levels off (no downhill) to take us around the park.  At the path where the 2-mile walk cuts across…is Mile 3.  Two more to go.  And we now get to the most difficult part.

After Mile 3, you get this small, steady incline to take you to another leveled off spot.  Here, you round the corner and go through the gate at the other end of the park.  A lot of people who live in the apartments there came out to cheer.  One guy shouted, “All the kings horses and all the kings men…”  I don’t know what that means, but he was clapping and shouting, and it was needed.  Exit park on a nice downhill.  Then start your first of three hills.  Schell Lane is a beast.  A freakin’ BEAST!

I actually have always embraced the challenge of Schell Lane.  I don’t know why.  I hate running hills…and that’s all this road is.  Three uphills and two downhills with a nice downhill waiting as you turn the corner and hit Daisy Lane.  I ran Schell Lane like I always do – with intention.  And, I loved heading up that last hill and seeing these kids out in the yard screaming, “GO RUNNERS!” as we all worked our way up the steepest of the climbs, to earn our reward…a flat segment leading into the turn…then the nice downhill.

Running down Daisy Lane makes you feel so free and alive.  It feels so easy because it is one hell of a downhill.  It takes you right into that 4th mile.  I actually peeked at the clock as I ran past the mile marker.  I knew I was going to have a slower time this year.  But, I figured that going into it.  Time to just make that last mile count.

Down to the traffic light and make the turn onto Green Valley Road.  You’ve come full circle almost.  Only half a mile away is the finish line, back at the 4-H Fairgrounds.  I run this stretch a lot.  I know where the rolling hills are.  And yet…at this point, my feet wanted to do little in regards to getting me to that finish line.  It was the cold weather.  My body hates cold weather.  My muscles just don’t fire the same.  But, I turned it on and gave it my best push and soon, I was rounding the corner to the drive of the 4-H Fairgrounds and pushing hard to the finish line, with Cathy screaming at me from the sidelines.  There were very few spectators out this year.  I think the cold weather kept them inside.

But…finish I did.  I dropped the bottom tag of my bib into the raffle box and went to grab some water.  Cathy met me on the other side of the main hall and we debated whether to stick around for awards or not.  Traditionally, we do.  And if you do place in your age division, Freddie says you have to be there to claim your award.  That’s just how he does it.  So…after debating on whether to go shower and get ready for the drive to Corydon for Thanksgiving or to stick around, I finally decided to stick around…at least for a little while.

This turned out to be…of little use this year.  There was a timing mat issue…which they were working on resolving.  So, they went ahead and gave out some of the raffle drawing awards.  And then they did the top three male and female finishers.  No new faces there.  Not this year.  The first male finisher, Ben Hubers, finished in 25:05.  The first female, Sarah Peace, finished in 28:14.  The times were slower this year and a lot of that was on account of the cold weather.

Me with Santa after the Fast Freddie Five Mile Foot Feast - New Albany, Indiana
Me with Santa after the Fast Freddie Five Mile Foot Feast – New Albany, Indiana

Anyway…they finished up the raffle and then Fred announced that they were still sorting out age division awards, so they would have that posted on the Web site and if you won an age division award, you could pick up your award at Pacers & Racers on Grant Line Road for a week.  After that…they were gone.

So…as it turns out, I ran this years Fast Freddie Festive Five Mile Foot Feast almost 2 minutes slower than last year, finishing with a time of 38:15.  I was 152/928 finishers this year.  I was the 26th female to cross the finish line.  And lo and behold…I was 3rd in my age division.  Go figure.  So, the one year they aren’t able to do the awards at the race is the year I actually place.  And I did it running slower.  How does that even happen?!  Needless to say, I went over to Pacers & Racers that Sunday to pick up my award.  It was a mug.  AWESOME!

Anyway, I am already looking forward to next year’s Fast Freddie Five Mile Foot Feast and can’t wait to see what I can accomplish.  Maybe I can at least beat this year’s time.  HA!  Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving!!

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Disney Wine & Dine Half Marathon – Orlando, FL (November 8, 2014)

Me, dressed as Venellope von Schweetz, at the staging area of the Disney Wine & Dine Half Marathon - Orlando, Florida
Me, dressed as Venellope von Schweetz, at the staging area of the Disney Wine & Dine Half Marathon – Orlando, Florida

Race: Disney Wine & Dine Half Marathon

Place: Walt Disney World, Orlando, Florida

Date: November 8, 2014

Time: 1:50:09

I’m starting to think I angered the running gods somewhere along the way this year.

Seriously.

Because before I go any further, let me start with these two words for you:

BROKEN TOE!

You read that right.  My first night at Disney World this time around…and what do I do?  I BREAK A FREAKIN’ TOE!  And you know, broken toe stories never really are a good story…because they always just happen randomly and in such a stupid and simple manner.  For me…climbing into the shower at my resort.  No joke.  Jammed it on the tub.  Yeah…

So…running gods and goddesses…whatever it is…I apologize.  Please, please show me some mercy from here on out…

*COUGH*

That being said…not even a week removed from the New York City Marathon and I find myself up in Columbus, Ohio.  Yes…this journey starts in Columbus, because my roomie and I were taking our good friend, Jenn, with us to Walt Disney World this time around.  And, believe it or not, it was cheaper to drive up to Columbus and fly out of there on Friday morning than it was to do it from Louisville.  Worked out in the end.  The three of us could now travel together.  YAY!!  But…this also meant a very early morning after a night spent on the road to get there.  We didn’t get in too late, but we didn’t want to stay up too late either, as our ride would be coming in between 4:15 a.m. and 4:20 a.m. Friday morning.  Our flight out was at 6:30 a.m.  Early flight…nonstop…meant…in to Disney early.  WOOT! Jenn’s dad came and got us, drove us to the Columbus Airport, and dropped us off.  Cathy and I checked our bags…Jenn carried hers on…and we went through security.  Our first stop…Starbucks.  Caffeine was needed for sure at this hour.  And I had a tall soy salted caramel mocha calling my name.  With coffees in hand, we settled in at our gate and just started discussing the plans for that day.

And…it ran smoothly.  We boarded the plane on time and were in the air without any sort of delay.  This was a new thing for me.  And, believe it or not, our flight team got us in to Orlando a full 20 minutes early.  HELLO!  This is my happy dance.  Cathy went to get the rental car while Jenn and I waited for luggage.  The bags came through really quickly, actually, so Jenn and I headed out the way we were directed for rental cars and ended up at the Enterprise kiosk outside.  Cathy was inside.  Figures.  So, she had to come to us.  The representative took us out to the midsize cars and pointed out the Prius, as we are accustomed to Toyota vehicles as both Jenn and I own Toyotas.  We were sold.  Hello amazing as mileage!!  Car acquired, we were now setting out to make our required Publix stop, to pick up some fruit, snacks, and some water.  Jenn and I also replenished our protein bar stores.  I am glad we did this, because I ate my way through all of mine this trip.  After that, we headed to the resort and got checked in at…where else?…Port Orleans Riverside.

Yes.  Again.  Why change up the resort when we love this one so much.  I mean…it’s one of my favorite Disney Princess’ place…Tiana, of course!  And I know the layout and the rooms (or so I thought, HA!).  We got our room…which was…a maze to find.  Opposite end of the elevator, all the way around by the pool…second floor.  We just had to do some exploring to find it.  But, heh, we managed.  We settled into the room for a moment…Jenn cooling off by the air conditioner, while I got out my tiara (requirement at Disney…because they call me Princess if I wear it…and I LOVE being called Princess).  I had to get my waiver in order to pick up my race packet at the expo.  And we grabbed a snack prior to heading out for the day.

First up…the expo.  And thankfully, the resorts on Disney property run shuttles to the event.  The expo was held at the ESPN Wild World of Sports Complex.  Just like it normally is.  Well, it was for the Dopey Challenge anyway.  Love this venue.  It’s really easy to navigate now…but at first it was slightly confusing.

The most amazing thing happened with this race though.  In New York City, I met running legend Kathrine Switzer.  When she ran the Boston Marathon, she was the now famous Bib 261.  Well, my bib number at the Disney Wine & Dine was…261.  Having this race bib number has been a dream of mine…Disney Magic made it happen!  I love surprises like that.  As I was one of the lower numbers, I had virtually no line to stand in.  This is usually the case with Disney races for me.  I was going to be in Corral A, which anyone with the numbers between 21-500 will be in.  They gave me my commemorative pin, which I ordered ahead of time, and then sent me across the way to the actual expo, where I would pick up my t-shirt.

I avoided the vendors upon entering and made my way over to the area in the back for my t-shirts.  Not too many people were in line for a women’s small either, so I stepped up and handed my bib over to the lady at the counter.  She looked at it as she tore the t-shirt tab off and said, “WOW!  You’re the lowest number I’ve seen…how fast can you run a half marathon?”  I told her my fastest time and she asked if I was going to try to beat it here.  I told her, in my mind, I’d love to, but I had just run a marathon on Sunday, so it wasn’t likely.  The body was still recovering.  I said I intended to have some fun and just enjoy it.  And take pictures with characters this time around.  Next time…  She laughed and handed me my shirt.  Time to shop!

I really intended not to purchase anything.  Just look.  But…heh…that didn’t work out as planned.  I didn’t get a BondiBand here either, for the record.  My mojo is off.  My usual customs aren’t happening.  ACK!  But I didn’t see a booth, honestly.  Cathy found me the race specific equivalent though in the Official Merchandise area…so we went with that.  It would do.  One thing I did do, however, was visit the Garmin booth and ended up getting a watch I could wear so I didn’t have to wear my Garmin running watch if I needed to know what time it was.  After all, I was at Disney World and I was NOT going to live on my cell phone.  Nope!  This was vacation!  With that purchase…I said I wasn’t allowed to spend any more money…so I avoided the Newton booth and tried to ignore all the cute running clothes.  I made it out of there with only that purchase and a wine glass (Disney Wine & Dine…get it!) from Official Merchandise.  I did well!

We wrapped things up and took the shuttle back to our resort to drop off our bags.  Then…with no pausing, we were back out and this time hopping the regular shuttle bus to take us to Animal Kingdom, our park of choice for our first day there.  We had things planned…like Jenn and I were going to ride Expedition Everest, the roller coaster there in Animal Kingdom.  We did.  And it was epic fun.  It was nice to have a ride buddy this time around, as Cathy refuses to do any of those rides…because she somehow became less fun at amusement parks between when we first went to Disney in February 2013…to today.  BUT…before any attractions or rides…we needed more coffee…and a snack.  So…I hit up the allergy friendly Gardens Kiosk in the park for some hummus and vegetables and Cathy and Jenn grabbed some fries at a restaurant there.  We noshed and then…went to grab the infamous COFFEE!!  You see, Animal Kingdom has this one place that serves up this fantastic iced coffee in either a French Vanilla or Mocha flavor.  I have always done, and will always do, the French Vanilla.  But it tastes like a light milkshake.  Seriously.  It is the best thing ever.  My favorite coffee at any Disney park.  And…I might be addicted to it.  With coffee now acquired and caffeine hitting the system…we had the roller coaster to do and the Kilimanjaro Safari.  LOVE dong the safari at Animal Kingdom because the guides are fun, the animals are RIGHT THERE…and it’s just a nice way to relax and see some wild animals.  LOVED it.  While there, we also did the “It’s Tough To Be A Bug” show and rode on Dinosaur.  By the time we wrapped things up, we were running just a tiny bit late to the shuttle to get to the Animal Kingdom Lodge…home of our traditional first meal at Disney World feast…Sanaa.

Sanaa is African food that sort of borrows from the flavors of India.  Can you see why I love eating here so much?  After talking with the chef, I ended up getting the Vegetarian Sampler, which is Basmati Rice and the choice of two of five of their vegetarian entrees.  I went with the Chickpea Wat and the Seasonal Greens and Tomatoes.  It was…beyond fantastic as always.  For the record, Cathy ordered the Lamb Shank and Jenn got the Slow Cooked Dinner Sampler, which was Basmati Rice with a choice of two of the five plate offerings.  She went with Butter Chicken and Goan Seafood Curry.  We ended up splitting the dessert…as usual…we ordered the Seasonal Kulfi, which was pumpkin this time.  And it was delicious.  The couple next to us made conversation with us the entire time, and he ended up getting the trio of desserts, which included the kulfi that we were raving about.  He took a bite and his wife said, “That was your sex face.”  Hilarity ensued.  Anyway, with dinner wrapped up, we had a full day and we knew the race was the following night, so we headed back to the resort to take our turn through the shower and get some much needed sleep.

Broken toe...*sigh*
Broken toe…*sigh*

And this…is where it all went down.  I was first up to shower, so I went into the bathroom and got the water going.  And as I was climbing into the bathtub…BAM…jammed my foot on the edge of the tub.  Hard.  And bad.  I doubled over for about a minute before toughing it up and finishing the shower.  After I was dressed, I hobbled out and pointed to my foot.  “I think I broke a toe!”  Cathy and Jenn looked up at me with big eyes and Cathy said, “SERIOUSLY!?”  It was confirmed the next morning…when I woke up to find it swollen and a pretty shade of black-ish purple.

*SIGH*

Being proactive, we decided to use the athletic tape that we brought with us (because my feet are delicate things and I apparently need to wrap the hell out of them these days) and Cathy taped my broken toe (the 4th one)…to the middle toe.  And that was how I managed to get through a full day at Hollywood Studios.  For real.  Being that the race started at 10 p.m., today was going to be a bit strange for me…because…I had to eat backwards.  I also was not going to be having gluten-free pizza prior to this race.  Night races…they screw everything up.  So, we were having a character breakfast at Cape May (Minnie Mouse, Goofy, and Donald, FTW!).  And this was going to be our biggest meal of the day.  Honestly.  The chef came out to talk to me and she ended up making me GLUTEN FREE MICKEY WAFFLES!!  These are a requirement when I go to Disney World and Disneyland.  I have to have them at least once.  I paired that up with scrambled eggs for protein and a big heaping bowl of fruit.  Because…it was there and really delicious!  And that was breakfast.  Off to Hollywood Studios.  Cathy had somehow managed to get the times wrong for the fast passes we had for both the Aerosmith Rock ‘N Roller Coaster and the Tower of Terror.  But, we begged and pleaded and after being treated like children, Jenn and I were allowed on our thrill rides that Cathy refuses to even try.  We also did Star Tours (always fun!) and Muppet Vision 3-D.  LOVE THE MUPPETS.  We had some time, so we headed over to The Magic of Disney Animation and sat in on one of the drawing classes, where we were taught how to draw Donald Duck this time.  This made me happy…I hadn’t done a Donald Duck before.  My lunch was my protein bar and a clementine, which I ate on the go.  And after we wrapped up everything…we went back to the hotel, because I had a race to get dressed for…and to get to…broken toe or not.

I actually took the tape off my toes for the race, fearing blisters.  We also had weather moving in (even though I was told on numerous occasions that Orlando didn’t have rain for months!).  So…yeah…there was that.  I was dressing up as Vanellope von Schweetz from Wreck it Ralph this time around.  Why?  Because Vanellope is awesome.  HA!  A co-worker of mine even sewed the top for me and it looked fantastic.  I was pretty excited about the costume.  Not so happy with my toe.  And definitely not happy about the impending rain.  But, you just suck it up cupcake and get it done.  Right?  Right!  So, I got dressed, and went ahead and ate my cereal (treating my dinner as how I would eat on a race morning…because I was eating backwards all day!).  Cathy put all the little candy bits in my hair and I packed a set of dry clothes (but not shoes) for after the race…just in case.  The best part about Wine & Dine is the after party in Epcot.  You get to try foods and drinks from different countries.  And included in the race bag is a $10 gift card to put towards those purchases and samples.  So, dinner for Cathy and Jenn was going to be tasting around the world.  For me…probably a protein bar because there isn’t too much there for a gluten-free vegetarian.  But…I figured I would take in the experience.

So, I grabbed the banana we purchased at the grocery store when we got there on Friday and we headed out to the shuttle to take us to the start of the race, which would be near the ESPN Wide World of Sports Complex.  The staging area was mostly in the grass, and it started to sprinkle a bit.  The first thing we did was head to information to figure out the best way for Cathy and Jenn to get from the start to the finish.  They were told, especially since I was a Corral A runner, that they needed to leave and get a shuttle before I started the race.  So…after dancing around and helping me put a garbage bag over my head to keep my body warm as the wind picked up and the weather started to roll in…they gave me hugs…I was told that the “power of Dean compels me” and not to “pants my poop.”  TRADITION!  And they were gone.  So…I just sort of plopped myself down somewhere and tried to stay warm.  I ate my banana.  I watched people expend a lot of energy by jumping and dancing…and it was fun!!  But soon…it was time to get in those corrals.  And I made the short hike from the staging area to the corrals, moving all the way up to Corral A.

One thing I loved was seeing so many people in this corral in costume.  Disney race or not, a lot of times the higher up corrals don’t get into the Disney spirit.  I have always and will always costume for Disney races.  They are Disney races.  If you run Disney for time, you’re missing the point!  I stayed in the black garbage bag until after the wheelchair racers were sent off.  The elite runners and Corral A were then moved up to the start line.  I shed it then…and that’s when it started to rain.  Lightly at first.  So, when they sent us off with the fireworks and all…it was like a spring shower.  But soon after that first mile, where I met a fellow runner who had just done New York City in that horrible, awful, crazy wind…the rain started to pick up.  And then…it was just…a downpour.

The first three miles of this race are done on the highway…and this race also embraces the most hills of any Disney race I have run yet at Disney World.  But…after New York City…these didn’t seem too bad.  Not really.  After the 5K mark, we come into Animal Kingdom.  Running through the parks is the best part because you get to have the park employees cheer you on.  That and this is normally a key place to snap pictures with characters.  The problem was…with the downpour…many of the characters weren’t out.  BUMMER!  But, you go on.  We run around the Tree of Life just after Mile 4 and then duck outside of the park before hitting 5 Miles.

The rain was relentless and my shoes were full of water.  The good thing was, my feet were so cold and numb that I couldn’t tell if my toe was hurting or not at this point.  But, I knew it was hindering me.  There just comes a point where you just can’t do anything about it…so you just stop worrying about it.  The next few miles were back on the roads, part of the path we ran for the Disney World Marathon.  I recognized it.  I was about halfway through and running down the street parallel to those just getting started.  On the opposite side of the highway…the later corrals were just getting underway.  And we got a lot of cheers from them as we went on.

It’s around Mile 10 that we get filtered into Hollywood Studios.  Great park to run through.  It was decorated for Christmas and everything was lit up.  This has great scenes to run past and the support there is nothing but phenomenal from the cast members.  Honestly.  Despite running in the shadow of the Tower of Terror and through the various lots that they feature, my absolute favorite part of Hollywood Studios involved disco balls and the Costuming Tunnel in the Backlot.  Honestly…I loved looking through the windows, while disco balls are sending lights everywhere in this small tunnel, and seeing people pressing and prepping the costumes for the following day.  It was spectacular.  I wanted to stop and linger…because…well…it was dry in there…and…IT WAS FLIPPIN’ COOL!  But, I was nearing the end of the race and the after party and two very soggy spectators awaited my arrival at that finish line.

Onward.

Out of Hollywood Studios and onto the slick and slippery boardwalk, which runs past the Disney Yacht Club and Disney Beach Club Resorts.  Even with the hard rain and cool air, people staying there still came out to cheer.  I love the vibe I get at every Disney race.  But the electricity through these last two miles was fantastic.  Honestly.

From the Boardwalk we took a turn through Epcot, past the giant ball, and out into the parking lot.  I know this finish area well, trust me.  Around the corner and BAM…there was the finish line.  I pressed hard to that finish line, ignoring my foot and toe, just wanting to get over that mat.  And I cleared it, soaking wet and dripping with rain and pure determination and stubbornness.  Broken toe…check.  Half marathon…check.  BEAST MODE, BABY!

As I recieved my medal and my mylar blanket, I saw Cathy and Jenn waving to me from the bleachers.  They were as wet as I was.  They started down while I got the finisher’s photo, some water, and, of course, the goodie box that RunDisney hands you at the end of every race, filled with goodies like Skittles, Clif Bars, Craisins, Fruit Snacks, and Tortilla Chips with a Cheese spread.  I wasn’t ready for food.  What I was ready for was getting out of the chute and meeting up with my friends.  I sipped on some water and went to where I was directed to exit.

There they were.  Cathy came up to me and gave me a hug.  Jenn came over to do the same and said, “You can tell I love you…”  LOL!!  I really do have amazing friends.  And I give a lot of props and love to the spectators and volunteers who stood or sat out in that downpour for as long as they did.

But now…it was time to check out the after party, which meant an uncrowded spin around the World Showcase with some tasting portions of food at the different country booths and kiosks.  But first…I was freezing…and I wanted hot tea.  We got that immediately and set out to see what each country had to offer.  If something sounded good…devour.  If not…move on.  I probably should have changed clothes, but at that point, it was still raining, so I didn’t see the point.

Cathy tried foods from 7 countries: Mexico, Singapore, China, Brazil, Belgium, France, Canada.  Jenn tried food from China, Brazil, and France.  Me…I had tea.  And after stopping at France, I decided I REALLY needed to be in dry clothes.  I was shaking more than walking.  And since it was just an intermittent drizzle, I figured it was the best time to get out of my cold, wet costume and into my long pants and running jacket.

Me, in dry clothes, after walking the World Showcase and enjoying the after party at Epcot after the Disney Wine & Dine Half Marathon
Me, in dry clothes, after walking the World Showcase and enjoying the after party at Epcot after the Disney Wine & Dine Half Marathon

BEST FEELING EVER!

I was dry and now…warm.  I also ate one of my protein bars to help with recovery.  And we finished up the World Showcase that night and called it a morning.  Because by the time we got on the shuttle and returned to the hotel, it was 2:35 a.m.  And we all still had to shower.  I went first, making it quick.  Then Jenn.  Then Cathy.  We didn’t have any reason to be up early the following morning, so we slept in until 9:30-ish.  It was Magic Kingdom day that day…which meant Dole Whip for dessert that night.  We ended up having Dole Whip for breakfast the following morning before hitting up Epcot on our last day there.

I even randomly was found by my friend Michele, who also did the half marathon.  She found me in Morocco of all places.  HA!  And we ended up talking about a lot of things for awhile, before she and her group moved on to try more foods from the showcase, and we went to continue on around the other way, killing time before dinner that night.

So, my official results for the Disney Wine & Dine Half Marathon are that I finished with an official time of 1:50:09.  ON A BROKEN TOE! IN THE POURING RAIN!  I was 418/11,941 overall.  I was the 97/7928 woman to cross the finish line.  And I was 15/1442 in my division to finish.  Disney Magic.  Had to be.  Not my best half marathon by a long shot, but given the circumstances…just…amazing to me.

Now, really, I need to show some mercy on my poor foot and toe.  Time to heal.

Once again, Disney…you were expensive…but totally worth every bit of money I poured into you for those 4 days I was there.  Despite not having the characters out on the course for much of the race, I have every desire to come back and do this one again.  This time…without the downpour and preferably without the broken toe.

Disney…as always…you are my happy place.  Thanks for another great race (and another great reason to dress up in costume to run!).

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TCS New York City Marathon – New York, New York (November 2, 2014)

Me crossing the finish line of the TCS New York City Marathon - New York, New York
Me crossing the finish line of the TCS New York City Marathon – New York, New York

Race: TCS New York City Marathon

Place: New York, New York

Date: November 2, 2014

Time: 3:50:32

There is just something about New York City!  I have always loved this city. Seriously.  And that was only reaffirmed two weekends ago when I was there to participate in the TCS New York City Marathon!  Talk about an exciting, overwhelming, and interesting adventure.

Interesting, you say?  Well…yes.  Because this adventure started off with quite a few hiccups.  And the first one was the flight there.  For one thing, without being told, our American Airlines flight was changed.  Yep.  Changed.  In fact, it was now a USAirways flight.  Which, for reasons dating back to Ireland 2010…pissed me off.  But, I guess it was a good thing I sent my roomie over to their site to check us into our flight, or we would have been 2 full hours late to the airport.  Instead of leaving at 6 p.m., our flight was changed to 4 p.m.  I never got word of this change…so…thankfully we checked.  YIKES!

Now having to leave work earlier for the airport, we had to tie up things at work sooner.  But the fun didn’t stop there.  Our flight was delayed.  And when the call came through (at least they let me know this time!), we found out that now we couldn’t make our connecting flight at Charlotte to get to LaGuardia, where we’d be meeting up with Heather to get to the hotel together.  UGH.  Cathy got on the phone and finally got to talk to someone who managed to get us on a flight that would get into Newark.  Now we needed to get from New Jersey to Manhattan.  So…now Cathy had to call and hire a car.  I was stressed out.  Very much not a zen runner at this time.  So, that afternoon, we left work earlier than planned to get to the Louisville airport.  We arrived…checked my bag (I had to…I actually had foam rollers, water, and even a protein shake)…and got through security without a line.  The TSA agent was cracking me up.  He asked where I was traveling to and me, wearing my TCS New York City Marathon pullover said, “New York City.”  And he did the old Pace Picante Sauce commercial where he said, “New York City?…Get a rope.”  I giggled.  At least TSA was in a good mood on Halloween.

Now, we had time to kill.  So, Cathy and I began our endless meandering between the two terminals at the Louisville airport.  And on one of our circuits, we ran into our boss from the office and her husband, who were supposed to have left earlier that morning for London.  Turns out their flight got cancelled and they had to come back to catch a later one…which was also flying to Charlotte (like ours!), but it was the flight following us.  I have never run into anyone I know at any airport, so this kind of made my day.  We talked for a bit and then we went to charge my phone and wait on our plane.

Me with the Horse Head Guy at Charlotte Airport
Me with the Horse Head Guy at Charlotte Airport

It arrived late.  We boarded.  We got into Charlotte and noticed that one of the passengers on our flight (I said he looked like he was in the mafia), was now walking around with a horse mask on his head.  It cracked me up for some reason.  And the double takes he would get on the moving sidewalk was priceless.  Seriously.  When he paused to look at the connection screens, I went up and asked if I could get a photo with him.  He kindly did so.  God, I love Halloween.

Anyway, while at Charlotte we got something to eat.  I devoured a protein bar and a fruit cup I went and bought at Starbucks.  Cathy got Burger King, something she hasn’t had in awhile.  I think it was a good choice for her.  After we ate and relaxed, we headed over to our gate to fly out to Newark.  We boarded, we took off, we landed.  Cathy called the car people while I snagged my bag from baggage claim.  And then…we were picked up and taken to The Manhattan Club in downtown Manhattan, our home away from home for the rest of the weekend.

Heather got there about 4 hours before we did.  They were nice enough to let her check into the room.  She went out exploring and to grab dinner while we were still on our way.  But, we arrived.  Cathy switched the credit card over to hers and Heather came down to take us up to our room.  Second floor.  No long elevator rides and the option to take the stairs if needed.  We talked for a little bit, but it was very early and we needed some rest.  We all got ready for bed and I set an alarm to wake us up so we could head over to the expo in a couple of hours.

The alarm went off too early for my liking, but I got up, shut it off, and we were got dressed and headed out into the windy, chilly, and damp New York City morning.  The shuttle to the expo was picking up not too far from our hotel.  We were early, and happened to stroll past a Fresh & Co.  We noted the gluten-free and vegetarian offerings, so we ducked inside to eat some breakfast as the shuttle was about a 30 minute wait and we had the time.  The breakfast was good.  Not great.  But good.  And filling.  And as I had no lunch plans, that was the important thing.  I ended up getting the Zen Quinoa Bowl, which had 2 eggs over easy, with chickpeas, kale, portobello mushrooms, and onions.  I topped it off with hot sauce and…yeah…it saw me through.  Cathy got one of their breakfast wraps and Heather got a Nutella Croissant.

Now fortified and with the shuttle scheduled to arrive at any time…we headed out to hop aboard and get to the Javits Center and get our expo on!  I had heard amazing things about this expo…and being New York City…you just know it’s going to be HUGE.  I was hoping to have a chance to catch a couple of the elites, but it was the day before the race…so it wasn’t happening.  It was nice, however, to get out of the rain for a little while.  We arrived via shuttle bus and disembarked, heading inside and following the crowds to the escalators that took us up…to a camera/photography expo.  Walk around to another set of escalators and BAM…marathon heaven.  And immediately you see the official merchandise booth.  I had to hit this up.

Me with my race bib...#11415 - Orange - Wave 1 - Corral C!
Me with my race bib…#11415 – Orange – Wave 1 – Corral C!

For one thing, I was dedicating my race to a very brave young lady battling her second bout of brain cancer.  I wanted to get Cailin something from the expo and my friend (her mom), Joanne, said that she loves hats…and they would keep her head warm during the winter as she went through treatments.  Perfect.  So, I purchased a hat for her…then arm warmers, gloves, and a t-shirt for me.  Done.  On to the rest of the expo.  Packet pickup.  Smooth and easy.  No problems at all.  And no line!  Back to exploring.  No BondiBands…so no purchasing of those as is tradition.  But I got to sample a few products and know (for 100% sure) that I want a Yonana machine.  I avoided the Newton tent…because I knew I’d purchase shoes that I didn’t currently need (I have a pair in the box still!).  I did purchase a couple flavors of GU for the marathon, as I was in need of fuel.  Aside from that, we strolled the aisles, sampled things, and then…went upstairs to do the passport thing to get a free poster.  I love race posters.  So, we traveled through the different boroughs of New York via the expo, got this little booklet stamped at each one, took pictures, pretended to cross the finish line…and then…then…

I met a legend.

Kathrine Switzer.

Heather, Me, Kathrine Switzer, and Cathy at the TCS New York City Marathon Race Expo
Heather, Me, Kathrine Switzer, and Cathy at the TCS New York City Marathon Race Expo

If you do not know who Kathrine Switzer is…shame on you.  In case you are living in shame…she is the first female to run the Boston Marathon as a registered number.  Albeit, she was registered under the name of K. Switzer and race officials thought she was a man.  When they saw her running, they tried to forcefully remove her from the race.  She slipped from their grasps and went on to finish the race.  What an inspiration to women everywhere.  Especially women runners.

I wanted to meet her.  So…I got into her line.  Her time was running short, as she was about to go and give a talk, and we were warned that she might not get to us.  But…we decided to at least try.  And…we were the last people to get to talk to her.  She was very kind, giving all three of us hugs.  And as she called me over to sign a copy of her book…this man from Mexico came over and tried to talk to her.  He said he didn’t understand English, but her assistant spoke Spanish.  I don’t think he expected that.  This kind of shit always happens to me.  I was having a moment…and then…someone sort of…ruins it for me.  Kathrine, being Kathrine, indulged him and signed his book and snapped a photo with him, but now she was feeling even more hurried.  She apologized so many times.  We took a picture and then she insisted that Cathy and Heather get in the shot too.  It has always been a dream of mine to run under her Boson number: 261.  She told me to “be fearless” and to have a great marathon.  Such a wonderful woman.

And then…we were done with the expo.  Just like that.  We hopped back on a shuttle to head back to the Manhattan Club, after grabbing some Starbucks.  Mmmm…much needed caffeine.  Upon returning, we went to Walgreens to purchase umbrellas and some water to have in the room.  Hydration is very important!  Heather had plans to meet up with her cousin for lunch, so she hopped into a taxi and went to do that.  Cathy and I decided to go exploring.  I know…the day before the race is not the time to be on your feet, but my time in NYC was so limited as it was, I needed to get out there.  Even if it was pouring rain on us and just windy and gross.  Off we went.  First stop…Times Square!  And from there…wherever our feet took us.  And we literally pounded that pavement for hours.  We went up Broadway…and I spotted the Phantom of the Opera in a window of a theater showing…Phantom of the Opera.  He waved…and I waved back.  We hiked around to various stores, ducking in to wherever looked interesting.  We took in some famous sites.  Cathy went and got cannoli from The Cake Boss store…something she had been dying to do.  And then, we reconnected with Heather, and went to Rockerfeller Center.  The ice rink was up, but I couldn’t justify paying $30 to skate…and that was without the skate rental fee.  We went to the Lego store.  We grabbed chocolates at Teuscher Chocolates (to have as dessert that night).  And then, we finally wrapped everything up and went back to the hotel room to drop things off and head off to dinner.

Me in Times Square, New York, New York
Me in Times Square, New York, New York

Night before a race means…gluten-free pizza!!

And we had originally planned to go to a place called Nizza.  But, the only reservation slot available was 4 pm.  WAY too early.  So, around 6 p.m., we went down to Don Antonio by Starita, a few blocks down from our hotel, instead.  They didn’t take reservations, but said that there was never more than a 45 minute wait, even on weekends.  We took them at their word.  Upon arriving, I went in to put my name on the list.  I was told…45 minutes.  So we waited.  Inside.  This tiny little restaurant.  It. Was. Worth. It.

Cathy and Heather actually got their first sample of the food as, because of the number of people, a sample pizza was sliced up and sent out.  Cathy was impressed by what she tried.  And soon after, the very Italian man (whom we nicknamed the Italian Adam Levine) called out my name.  And he could have said it a few more times and I would not have minded at all.  *DROOL*  We were seated and given menus to browse.  Because it had no cheese on it at all…Cathy and I opted to split the Gluten Free Marinara Pizza.  She also decided to try one of their famous fried dough balls…opting for the Montanarine Genovese, which is a fried dough puff topped with onion, pancetta and pecorino romano.  Heather ordered a pizza as well (she needed meat and cheese and took half of it back to the hotel, although we never got back around to it) and also tried one of the fried dough balls.  Order in.  Order out.  I actually had to look VERY closely at the pizza to make sure it was gluten free.  It actually had a CRUST.  No cracker crust here.  This was a substantial, real pizza crust.  The only difference between it and the regular crust was that this was obviously cooked in a pan as the edges were very clean.  It was fantastic.  And filling.  And after eating…we returned to the hotel, ate our chocolates, rotated through showers, and got to bed.

Underneath that fashionable robe is a girl ready to run the streets of NYC
Underneath that fashionable robe is a girl ready to run the streets of NYC

THANK GOD FOR DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME.  We fell back that night.  Extra hour of sleep.  Which was good, because the alarm at 4 a.m. for me to get up and get dressed for the race came earlier than I wanted.  I turned it off, went into the bathroom and started to get ready.  And then I heard the alarm go off again (appropriately it was “New York Groove” by Kiss).  I had only hit snooze.  Whoops.  It did that twice more…so by the time Heather and Cathy were supposed to get up…they were already up.  They went to get ready and soon I was pinned up, donning the toss-away bathrobe to keep me warm at the start for hours, and we were heading out of the room to make the walk to the subway to get to the New York Public Library where I would catch a shuttle bus to the start.

We stepped outside and were immediately battered by a strong wind gust.  I mean, it practically knocked us over.  Very high winds.  As we headed to the subway I said, “And I’m supposed to run in this?!”  It would be interesting if nothing else.  The underground subway terminal was a nice reprieve from the wind and soon we found ourselves on a train with other runners heading to the same place.  We got off the train and headed up to the street to the library.  We were all guided into this little chute, which we walked until we hit the security checkpoint where only people with a race bib could enter.  I gave hugs to Cathy and Heather, and sent them off to get their breakfast…a NYC bagel…while I got into the madness of the bus queue.  Oh…wow…this was insanity.  So many people…all trying to get on their shuttles.  WOW.  It was…an adventure to say the least.  But I picked a line further up and climbed into the bus to make the drive from the library to the start camp at the Verrazano–Narrows Bridge.  I only had with me a change of shoes (I heard the grass could get wet so I was ditching an old pair in my corral and putting on my race shoes then), a banana and some cereal.  My fuel belt was around my waist…and that was it.  I was bundled up in a robe and gloves…but it was no match for the bitter wind that morning.

Heather, me, and Cathy in the subway waiting on the train to get to the New York City Library shuttles. We are very sleep deprived.
Heather, me, and Cathy in the subway waiting on the train to get to the New York City Library shuttles. We are very sleep deprived.

The ride over was uneventful.  It was super early…my shuttle departed at 6 a.m.  Everyone was I think just…sleeping or dozing or looking out the window.  I did a lot of looking out the window on the ride to the bridge.  I was in a calm place.  I thought I was going to be a nervous wreck, especially since I wouldn’t know anyone at the start line.  But I was as zen as could be expected…because the unexpected awaited.  I will remind everyone…my training for this race fell to pieces back in July…when what was thought to be the start of a stress fracture turned out to be…inflammation…that still is rearing its ugly head.  So, I knew this race had the potential to be…really, really, really bad.  But I was going into it with my foot feeling…okay…and a lot of support.

The bus parked on the side of the road with a long line of other buses.  And here, we all disembarked.  There were volunteers out, directing all runners toward the staging area of Fort Wadsworth…where I would now have a 3 hour wait before my wave and corral would be sent off.  Three long, cold, and windy hours.  It was during this slow procession to the staging area and start villages that I realized my banana had fallen out of my robe pocket on the bus.  Now…all that I had with me to eat…was a serving size of my cereal.  And my GU packets for the run.  I knew the start villages were going to have some items for runners to enjoy, including coffee, tea, and bagels.  I was hoping bananas or something gluten-free might be there as well.

But first…I had to contend with the security.  All runners had to show their bibs as they entered the staging area.  Then…metal detectors.  I had my clear starting area bag with just my shoes in it (and in hindsight, should have put my snacks in there as well!) so I was ushered through.  I handed my stuff off to one of the officers, went through the metal detector, and then proceeded to get wanded because I was wearing my long robe.  Ah well.  No biggie.  The wind was already brutal.  In fact, race officials had to reduce the number of tents at the staging area because of the strong wind gusts.  This meant, when I made it to the orange start village…there was one tent…and a lot…A LOT of people.

Me sitting in the tent for the Orange Start Village before the TCS New York City Marathon...rocking the free Dunkin Donuts Hat. I was, honestly, freezing!
Me sitting in the tent for the Orange Start Village before the TCS New York City Marathon…rocking the free Dunkin Donuts Hat. I was, honestly, freezing!

Entering the staging area for my color was an experience.  Lines of people were everywhere.  But, by the grace of the running gods, Dunkin Donuts was there and they were passing out these hats to all the runners.  Thank goodness, because the winds were not only gusting, but they were chilling.  Down to the bone.  And my head was cold.  I immediately threw it onto my head (as so many others did as well) and made one circuit of the start village offerings.  Tea, spring water, coffee (supplied by Dunkin Donuts), Gatorade Endurance products, bagels and PowerBars were all there were.  I went up to the PowerBar people and asked if any of the bars were gluten-free.  None of them were.  I was about to have a mild panic attack.  I had yet to eat something…because I didn’t want to eat too early…but I knew it would be impossible to go very far on just a serving of my gluten-free cereal.  Yep.  Panic.  Not much I could do about it though…so taking the advice of my friend, Courtney, who ran New York City last year, I made my way to the one tent that they had up in my start village and ducked inside, spotting somewhere sort of near the middle and settled in.  Maybe I could make friends.  Maybe someone would have an extra banana.  Maybe…

But…no one around me spoke English.  No joke.  Not very well, anyway.  So, making friends was not going well for me.  I finally just gave up, decided to eat bits of my cereal intermittently until I had to get to my corral, and just…try not to panic.  I had one extra GU pack on me, which I would take 20 minutes before the run.  It had to be good enough.  So I began reading through Dean Koontz’s “Frankenstein” and would every now and again nibble on a bit of my cereal.  My nerves were now way up.

After awhile, I started hearing some announcements over the loud speaker…but couldn’t make any of them out.  I decided to risk losing my spot in the tent to step outside and see if I could get a clearer idea of what was being said.  I am so glad I did.  Because Wave 1 was being sent to their corrals and we had 20 minutes to make the walk there and get inside before we would be cut off and forced to start in the second wave instead.  That was not going to happen to me.  I made my way with the masses toward the corrals, now traipsing over a field with hay laid out on the ground.  And I made it to the Orange Wave…Corral C.  With only a few minutes to spare.  Whew.

I admit…I think I was expecting something closer to the start corrals of the Chicago Marathon.  But I was on a little side street, alleyway of some sort…with port-a-potties lining one entire side and the masses of runners in the Orange Wave Corral C all huddled together or in line to pee.  It was…not glamorous at all.  I made small talk with some people around me…a woman from Australia who commented on my dressing gown…a freezing guy who was dressed in shorts and a long sleeve shirt…not at all prepared for all the hours spent at the staging area in this kind of weather.  And others.  As the time got nearer, I changed my shoes and ditched the robe…to now freeze.  Soon…the corral strings were dropped and we were all marched forward, up toward the Verrazano–Narrows Bridge.

The view of the Verrazano–Narrows Bridge from my corral on Staten Island
The view of the Verrazano–Narrows Bridge from my corral on Staten Island

It is a beautiful bridge…but it is intimidating for sure.  I saw a Marathon Maniac walking only a few steps ahead of me, so I called out to him and we were talking on the way up near the bridge.  He asked where my Marathon Maniac gear was and I explained that my company sponsored me so I was wearing their uniform.  Then, the loud speaker booted up again and we were hearing the names of the elite men (my wave started with them!) and we would all cheer.  I mean…we were running with Wilson Kipsang, Geoffrey Mutai, and Meb Keflezighi.  Legends.  Then we were informed that was the dress rehearsal and the next time it would be live…so we were to cheer loudly again.  HA.  The magic of television.

They were announced.  Again.  And we cheered.  Again.  I removed the Dunkin Donuts hat and tucked it into my fuel belt.  If it stayed…free hat.  If not…eh…it was a free hat.  The National Anthem was played and then…cannons.  I knew that was how we were sent off…but it still scared the living daylights out of me.  My heart skipped a beat, my feet began to move toward the start…and up we all started, crossing the first sensor pad at the start line…and taking the 3.6% grade of the Verrazano–Narrows Bridge.  And that was when we got our first taste of the winds that we would be battling that morning.  No joke, there were gusts that made me feel like my feet were going to come out from under me.  We all put our heads down…our race bibs sounding like sails in hurricane force winds.  The helicopters circled us overhead.  The world was watching.  And we must have looked like we were on the biggest treadmill in the wold.

The first mile is straight up the bridge and the second mile…you come back down and hit the streets.  Everything is loud.  After the bridge…it’s just people.  So many people.  And they are out there…cheering…and if you had your name on your shirt (I didn’t)…they would shout out your name.  It was uplifting.  It almost made you forget you were cold.  And battling wind gusts between 40 mph and 60 mph.  So, we left Staten Island and were immediately welcomed into…BROOKLYN!

I won’t lie…I had the Beastie Boys song “No Sleep Till Brooklyn” drumming through my mind.  It was part of the music playlist I put together to get me excited for the NYC Marathon in the first place.  We honestly rounded that corner and heard “WELCOME TO BROOKLYN!”  Awesome.

The elite men on First Avenue around Mile 17.5. Meb is in the white arm warmers behind the second guy in orange.
The elite men on First Avenue around Mile 17.5. Meb is in the white arm warmers behind the second guy in orange.

Brooklyn is, honestly, the longest stretch of the five boroughs.  Staten Island…we’re there for the start village and the bridge…then…up until the halfway point…honestly.  And there was a lot going on for that first half.  Rows of people lining the streets.  Runners either pushing hard from the start or easing up to save it for the finish.  I knew running the entire 26.2 miles wasn’t happening for me.  I can’t run what I didn’t train for…but I was going to do my best.  I dedicated this race to a brave young woman who was fighting the hardest battle of her life…and I was going to honor her as best I could.  I was going to just give this race the best of me.

At mile 5…I ditched my gloves.

Brooklyn was interesting.  It is also where, around Mile 10, we enter Bedford Avenue…Williamsburg…where the Orthodox Jews reside.  While there were some scattered throughout this mile…watching…it was silent.  No cheering.  And hardly anyone out.  It made Mile 10 one of the more challenging to get through in the race.  The crowds carry you when you feel like you can’t take one more step.  Here…you just had to get through.  It was early though…and most of us still felt good.  I did.

I hit the halfway point…and then…”WELCOME TO QUEENS!”

Pretty much every borough had someone that would scream a fantastic welcome to you as you ran through.  LOVE.  The Queensboro Bridge was ahead…and as I started to make my way inside…yes…we ran a lower deck…I saw many a male marathoner pull off to the side to pee.  This was also the bridge where I lost my GPS signal for about .3 of a mile.  I didn’t know it at the time, but it happened.  I noticed as I came to Mile 16 and my watch didn’t beep.  It did…a little later after I passed.  I was now ahead of my watch.  That is okay…I wear that as a backup for my time more than anything else.  The zen runner does live on…sometimes.  Exiting the bridge, which was just a cavern that echoed and amplified our breathing and footfalls, we were once again greeted by the masses.  That rush you get when that crowd returns…when you get the shouting and the cowbells and the encouragement…it is the best feeling in the world.  And it was what started to carry me.

Me waving to Heather and Cathy at Mile 17.5. Still smiling and feeling good!
Me waving to Heather and Cathy at Mile 17.5. Still smiling and feeling good!

Cathy and Heather had told me that they were going to try to catch me at Mile 17.  As I crossed the Mile 17 marker, I began searching the crowd on the left for them.  This was made even more challenging as we were now climbing another hill.  I didn’t see them and had all but given up.  The downside of the hill greeted me and as I crest it and begin my descent, there they are, screaming for me over the crowd.  I run by, throwing them a huge smile and a wave.  I love seeing my friends when I’m running.  It is just…uplifting.  It is.

I was running First Avenue now…and I remained on there through Mile 20 about.  But before leaving this street…I still had to go over the Willis Avenue Bridge.  The inclines were starting to get to my untrained legs, so I slowed a little.  I hated to do it…but if I was going to make that last 10K, I had to.  But I took the bridge like a champ, pushing myself through the strong headwinds and thinking of Cailin…wanting to finish this strong.  I came off the bridge…

“WELCOME TO THE BRONX!”

We weren’t in The Bronx for long through…and soon the streets wound us through Harlem and the crowds were loud and it was exciting.  I loved hearing people get called out.  I loved hearing, “You’re looking strong, girl!” Even though I knew I looked anything but strong.  It helped.  A lot.  This was around where runners hit the dreaded wall.  With the strong wind gusts that day, I was battling this run harder than any other.  I think this might be as close as I have ever gotten to hitting…”The Wall.”  I fought it though…because I knew…I was close now.  I was so close.

We make the turn onto Fifth Avenue and soon I hear the shout I’ve been waiting to hear…

“WELCOME BACK TO MANHATTAN!”

Love.  I could see the city.  I could hear the city.  And here, the runners were pushing themselves toward Central Park.  We get to duck inside the park around Mile 22, only to reemerge briefly.  But when we return to the park…we are two miles away from glory.  Just two miles.  The crowds inside the park are amazing.  They had to go through security checkpoints to be there.  They were loud and giving us the “You’re so close!  You’re almost there!” And you believe it…because it’s true.  Two miles…

My selfie after crossing the finish line of the TCS New York City Marathon
My selfie after crossing the finish line of the TCS New York City Marathon

The park is beautiful this time of year.  Still green, but shading to those perfect fall colors.  The wind…was brutal that day.  And I focused more on pushing through those gusts.  I could taste the finish line.  I could almost feel it with each step I willed myself to take.  I was on my way.  I came up hill at Mile 25…and I knew…I was close.  Pushing on, the crowds became louder.  I could hear the announcer at the finish line.  And there it was.  These arching towers…those little blue mats at our feet.  I pushed with what I could find left in my tank.  I pushed.  And I crossed that finish line feeling like I just won the damn thing.  My time…was my third fastest, although I felt like this one beat me up the most.  I was tired and drained…but I felt so alive.  There were no tears at this finish line.  Smiles.  Just smiles.  I did it!  I took a moment…and snapped a selfie.

From here…the long walk ensued.  We were funneled through the finishing area, our medals placed around our necks and mylar blankets wrapped around us.  There were people out there who attached stickers to hold the mylar in place as we continued up through Central Park.  Finisher’s photos were taken…and the food goodie bag was passed out.  Water and Gatorade were offered.  I took some water.  I was in the group of runners that had a bracelet on because I didn’t check a bag.  This meant I got a free TCS New York City Marathon poncho.  But my trek there was long…I had to get to 77th Street.  Here, volunteers would wrap and secure the lined and heavy-duty poncho around the runners and send us up toward 72nd Street.  This…was where we were out of the race zone.

I had through I’d be going straight up 77th street to rendezvous with Heather, Cathy and my friend Marisa…but now I was 5 blocks down.  I checked the printed map Cathy had given me and this worked out better.  The hot dog place they were grabbing lunch at (Gray’s Papaya) was closer to 72nd Street.  So, I headed up that way.  I was handed some tea and congratulated.  Many people who walked by congratulated all the runners making their way up there.

Marisa, me, and Heather after the TCS New York City Marathon
Marisa, me, and Heather after the TCS New York City Marathon

And then…there was Heather.  She hurried over and gave me a hug.  She said, “You finished in 3:50-something.”  I was beaming.  Then…Cathy and Marisa were there…hugs all around.  I wanted to get back to the hotel to shower because we had some things to do before dinner that night, and our reservation was at 6 p.m.  So, we made the short walk back to The Manhattan Club.  We went up to the hotel room and I took a nice hot shower.  Nothing in the world felt better than that.  After I was changed and my hair was dried…I gave another attempt at consuming a protein shake post-marathon.  It didn’t sit well.  Not one bit.  I ended up throwing it up.  But I felt better.  We headed out…to walk to Tiffany’s because I needed to get a pendant engraved and do a bit of shopping.  On the way, Cathy ducked into the place we had breakfast on Saturday morning and snagged me a bottle of Sprite Zero to settle my stomach.  It helped.  A lot.

We had a great time at Tiffany’s…but it took longer than anticipated.  Back to the hotel to change for dinner. Then a fantastic and

Me, with Cathy, in my fancy dress, compression socks, and heels...because this is how a marathoner dresses up for dinner!
Me, with Cathy, in my fancy dress, compression socks, and heels…because this is how a marathoner dresses up for dinner!

celebratory dinner at Red Rooster in Harlem.  For any non-foodies…this is Marcus Samuelsson’s restaurant.  Usually we do pubs…but I requested this.  I think the most epic moment of the night was as we were heading down to the subway, some girls were just coming up the steps with their mylar wrapped around them.  They looked at me and said…”She’s in heels.  She just ran a marathon…and she’s in heels.  With compression socks!”  Their eyes met mine and they said…”You’re my hero!”  It made me laugh.  I tend to recover well and fast after a marathon.  I hope it stays like that.  So…dinner in Harlem and then…we parted.  Marisa had to return to New Jersey and the three of us went to retire to the hotel.  Heather and I decided to head back out (I move as much as possible after a marathon) and see Ground Zero.  We saw the new tower, which was opening the following morning.  It was still bitter cold out and we ended up having a snafu with one of our trains back to Manhattan.  So, we got in really late…and had to all get up super early to get a taxi to the airport.  But every moment of this trip was worth it.

My official time for the TCS New York City Marathon was 3:50:32.  I was 9984 out of 50,875 finishers overall.  I was the 1970/20,414 female to cross the finish line.  And I was 403/3740 in  my age division to finish.  When I look at the overall results…I am beyond impressed with my performance.  This still wasn’t the race I wanted.  But the winds…they were relentless.  I heard on the news that all but 6 miles of the marathon were with a headwind.  I believe it. It sucked.  A lot.  But, you can’t change the weather…you just adapt.  That’s what I did.  I would LOVE to run this one again, believe it or not.  Minus the wind trying to take my feet out from under me.  As a side note, the wheelchair racers were started at Mile 3…due to the heavy winds on the bridge.  The race officials were afraid they would be blown over or off.  It was honestly that bad.  I had a fantastic time and a fantastic race given the circumstances…and I was once again reminded of the many reasons that I always have and continue to love New York.