Olympic Trials Baby!

(Photo courtesy of Scott Mason)

First off, a fire alarm is not the best way to awaken the morning of a marathon. My first response (and thank goodness I had laid everything out the previous morning) was to throw on my racing gear, pack up my stuff, and get the hell out of the hotel. This was my thinking: a. if there was in fact a fire, I was not going to miss the fucking race and b. there is no way I wanted to be climbing up 11 flights of stairs after a false alarm. So I headed out with my personal belongings and descended the stairwell along with all the other hotel occupants. ‘In the end, it definitely worked out for me. I was able to head towards the Fairmont Hotel (where the elite buses would be arriving/boarding), enjoy a bagel and peanut butter in the lobby, and then mingle a little before heading out towards the start via bus.

At the start area, my nerves and heartbeat were humming with their usual nervous energy, but I just kept reminding myself that all I needed to do was run. As I toed the line, I was excited. After a year I was getting to finally take a shot at the Trials standard. When the gun went off I reminded myself that there was no urgency and to just stay relaxed. I felt good and tried to trust my body versus the various mile splits I had written on my arm. At some point I knew every one of them was going to be four minutes faster than intended, but I still kept glancing at them. Luckily I only had them written for every five miles. I’ve typically been better at listening to my body versus numbers. Anyhow, I latched on to number 37, Kasie Enman, for a while. But after mile 15, I had become one lonesome girl and was out by myself with only the Boston suburbanites and the tarmac for company. I got some blurred vision around this point. Thank goodness for vanilla GU and the cute little kid that I high fived for bringing me back into focus. I just kept on moving one foot in front of the other.

Around mile 21, the elite men caught up with me. The noise of the sirens was a bit irritating and I got distracted. One nice bicyclist encouraged me to run the tangents and not hug the shoulder. He also confirmed that I looked strong (In fact, he found me in the tent afterwards and made a point to congratulate me! People are so great!). Other than the fact that the men made me feel like I was standing still, I found the whole experience kind of neat. Around this point I started to realize that I probably would accomplish my goal from 2010 and qualify for the Olympic Marathon Trials.

But, for some reason over the next four miles I worried. What if I cramp up? What if I started too fast? What if I have to walk? What if I keel over? This is when I realized being alone has its faults. I thought of a text I had received from Heather Macfalls the night before the race, which ended by saying “you are so strong and ready.” I just kept saying that to myself. When I hit the sign saying there was a mile left, I knew that this was it. I had done what I set out to do and I was feeling strong and happy! Seeing the finish, hearing the crowd, and crossing that finish in 2:41:37 felt surreal. I was as happy as a jelly bean!

There was something that really struck me in those last ten miles. Even though I was out there running by myself I felt supported by the people I know and don’t know. The crowd carried me. Staying relaxed and trusting myself carried me. All the pre-race wishes I got from my friends and family carried me. You all carried me! I just can’t thank those that high-fived, screamed for #41 (that was me in case you were confused), who eagerly held out water for me, who loved my red shoes (or race cars according to Griffin Brown), and that clapped their hands. I can’t thank those of you that know me enough. It’s my friends and family that believe in me even when I don’t believe in myself. I am just so grateful to have the support and encouragement from you all. So yeah I guess I am getting a little sappy, but it’s true!

So what do you do after a 17+ minute marathon PR? You smile a lot. You get lots of super nice Facebook comments/messages. You can’t really sleep. You wonder how it all went by so fast. You realize you’re capable of anything if you work hard and listen. You hop on a late flight home to give your boyfriend a big hug and eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. You sit here writing this blog still in awe. You have slight difficulty descending stairs. And of course, you look forward to the continuation of the journey…. Olympic Trials…. Whoohoooo!

Boston

The Boston count down has begun, nine days to go. I am nervous, excited, and open to how it unfolds. The last month I've been far too busy to focus on it. I am literally just trying to get through one day at a time. I've been traveling, first to New York for the half marathon then to France for Salomon's Advanced Week. In the mix of being in and out of town, babies are being born, teaching has been crazy, and I am of course squeezing in runs, sleep, and meals. Plain and simple, I am way busier than I'd like to be. Life hasn't been feeling particularly rhythmic, but my runs have been keeping my heart and feet in tempo.

I ran Boston Marathon in 2003. It was my second marathon. I qualified via Grandma's Marathon in 2002. I figured I would never have the opportunity to do it again. It took me until 2009 to run another marathon, San Francisco Nike Women's Marathon. I just didn't feel called to racing. Sure Boston was a unique experience eight years ago, but it also felt overwhelming and chaotic. It also left me with a semi-permanent tattoo of my name down my right arm. When someone says to write your name with permanent marker down your arm, don't listen, particularly when it's sunny and you're pale from living in Northern Michigan. I ran Boston in 3:31:07 and I finished 4391 overall. I've come a long way since that nervous 22 year old.

Sure I have goals for this race. Ideally, I'll sneak in under 2:46. But in the end, I'm grateful seeing how far I've come. How far I've come since that twelve year old that could barely make it one lap around the track. Or since that high schooler that would run randomly to her best friend's house, nearly 13 miles aways. Or since 2008 when I finally got over my race anxieties and set out on the trails racing. Or since last year when I experienced my worst injury to date and learned to except my limitations. I have only been back running for three and a half months. I finally feel good and strong, but there are always doubts. This will be my fourth marathon. The first with specific training. I will actually wear appropriate shoes and hopefully not end with bloody knees like I did in SF Nike.

So here I come Boston 2011.