Boston Musings

In a weird way that I can’t explain, watching the Boston Marathon is like watching the Super Bowl. I cheer, clap, laugh, cry, love the victor and sympathize with the also rans, knowing full well that the last runner is still faster and stronger than me. For most runners, Boston is unattainable, the unicorn of races but seeing someone do something well is always amazing.

Last night we ate dinner while watching the recorded race from 9am on Monday. In Massachusetts and Maine April 15 is a state holiday, Patriots Day, commemorating the Battles of Lexington and Concord. I am not a history buff, but as a runner I associate Patriots Day with the Boston Marathon and more recently a movie by the same name, about the horrific Boston Marathon bombing in 2013.

In small eastern Massachusetts towns, in suburbs heading into Boston, people use their day off to line the streets or volunteer and watch superhuman (in my opinion) athletes conquer nerves, hills and the weather (see last year’s pictures) to prove to themselves that they are capable of greatness.

The whole thing is awe inspiring, from the elite runners who weigh less than I have since I was 10 (yes, you, Des Linden!) to the runner who literally crawled across the finish line, running to remember 3 friends who’d died in front of him in Afghanistan. While his body didn’t cooperate his will was strong enough to propel him forward on all fours. Profoundly moving and indicative of the kind of people who make this country great. He was surrounded by supporters who stopped feet from the finish to cheer him on and help him will himself across that finish line.

This is running. You’ll never find another sport full of such supportive people.

Running and I have had a love/hate relationship for as long as I can remember. When I’m healthy enough to run I actively hate it (though I do like having run); arguing with myself just to get out the door. When I’m injured it’s the one thing I miss the most, the social aspect of friends and shared misery, the outdoors (nature), being able to move and break a sweat, feel the way it clears your mind. They say that you can eat to run (treat your body like a temple, consume clean foods that will ultimately make you a faster runner and healthy and fit) or you can run to eat. I am firmly in the second camp. The Man and I view anything over 10 miles as the perfect reason to break out the Bloody Marys, make a batch of queso dip and/or Long Run Victory Brownies, and Netflix and chill the rest of the day since we’ve already worked so hard. This is not the mentality that will get you to Boston, and I’m okay with that. Treat yoself!

If I’m still running when I’m 75 (or 80?) maybe I’ll have a shot. My thinking is there’ll be fewer women in my age group and the qualifying time will be so much longer that I’m bound to get in. Until then I’ll continue to marvel at the human condition and what grace in motion this thing called running can be, and will try to appreciate the fact that I GET to do it. Pretty sure that what all of those runners did yesterday in Boston and what I did this morning are 2 different sports, but a girl can dream…

Boston logo

Cold, rainy Des Linden

Bloody Marys!

Mmmm Brownies

Never say never again.

3 years ago at this very moment, I was preparing for something life altering and was terrified and excited. After several years of running half marathons (13.1 miles), for some reason I decided it was my time to run my first (and only) marathon. After years of being a single parent and dog mom, I was finally at the point where my kids were grown and could cope on their own when I was on long runs (or on the couch after a hard run), and the dog had passed so there was actually free time for me. I committed to doing my one and only and threw my hat in to the Marine Corps Marathon lottery. The idea of actually being selected and having to (getting to) run the race was thrilling, but scared me to death and I assumed I wouldn’t be selected. When I got the email that I’d gotten in – headline Official 41^st MCM Registration – I was stunned and immediately registered for my running club’s First Time Marathoners (FTM) program which entailed SIX MONTHS of hard but gradual training. It was an out of body experience registering for that; I saw it happening but didn’t fully appreciate what I was doing.

Through 6 long, hot months (summer running is NO joke) of training, and several 18-20 mile runs I battled on, thinking one and done. One and done. Everyone said, oh we all said that. I said no, really, one and done.

Which brings us to the present. On a blustery Saturday in late March 2019 I ran the Marine Corps 17.75k race, the race that’s called the Golden Ticket because just finishing gets you entry into the Marine Corps Marathon, no lottery. But wait, you say, what happened to one and done?

The Man. The Man was my awesome support at MCM, he traveled around Washington DC with my kids and a silver star balloon (which I still have) to see and cheer for me at various points throughout the race. MCM also has an app that allows you to track a runner so they could see my split times, knew when I was approaching, and it allowed my daughter to run Hains Point and the Blue Mile with me. That was amazing, and although the GoPro videos and photos that they captured were stolen a few days later, those moments are engrained in my heart.

Those moments also apparently inspired The Man. He’d run as a Marine back in his teens, but through a variety of health and life issues he’d not run since. Here we were 30 years later and he decided he wanted to start running. We made it through 2017 and my year of physical therapy post MCM (moral of that story? Piriformis issues are literally a pain in the butt, and you need to treat them ASAP or it will take a year of your life to sort through the mess), took our epic cross-country motorcycle trip, then got down to business. I designed a 5k plan for The Man to dip his toe into the running world, and he ran the Big Sur 5k last April. From there he was hooked, an announced to me (and the world; check his blog https://runningitsallaboutsacrifice.wordpress.com/) that he intended to do MCM 2019.

As someone who’s run pretty consistently for the past 10 years, I think this is a very ambitious goal. Having said that, The Man has tenacity. He has drive and determination. He is going to do this. Because of that attitude, we sat by our computers on a fortuitous snow day in late February and along with a good running friend of mine, D, managed to make it through various server issues and register for the 2019 MCM 17.75k, so named because the Marine Corps was founded in 1775. Fun fact for the day!

(D and another friend met me on The Bridge for my MCM and ran with me through miles 20-26. I am convinced they are the only reason I finished that day. I might still be walking.)

I’ve heard and been curious about MCM 17.75k for years. What most people comment on is the hills. Oh, the hills. So many hills. Really, how bad could they be, I thought? HA. Worse than you can imagine. How is it ALL uphill? Having done this race once, with its hills and gravel, I don’t know why people ever run it more than once. I know, never say never. But really, there are other ways to enter the marathon. Lottery, bib transfer, running for a charity are just a few. This race is so far down on my list it’s really not even on the list.

Then the email came. THE email. The Congratulations, you are officially registered for the 44^th Marine Corps Marathon email.

So on Darling Daughter’s 25^th birthday (she will hopefully escort people around to various vantage points), The Man, D and I will line up with 30,000 of our closest friends and do the do. He and D for the first time, me for the second, as running support. The first time was for me, this time is with him. Never say never.

Once the nausea fades, this’ll be quite a thing!

 

17.75k elevation map (OMG); MCM elevation map (THAT’S what I’m talking bout!)

17.75k elevation map 3/2019

MCM elevation map 10/2019