As many of you likely know, for the past month and a half I've embarked on raising $500 for the Susan G. Komen Foundation, which does tremendous work for breast cancer.  As an incentive to get donations, I promised that I would wear a running skirt during the BAA 5K if I could raise that amount.  Almost exclusively through the use of Twitter, I was able to raise a little bit over my goal, raising $520.40 total.  I have to say I'm completely blown away by the generosity of quasi-strangers and am very grateful for your support.  Also very deserving of thanks are Marathon Sports, particularly Nick Littlefield, and Brooks Running who combined to donate the outfit I wore.  Here is a picture of the back of the shirt that I wore, featuring the names of loved ones of my supporters:
 
So, now on to the race, to get the suspense over with, here's a picture of me in my final race outfit:

Because we got a late start out the door this morning I drove like a madman into the city, already setting a PR for that drive.  I'll spare you the gory details, but this was not a pretty GI morning, which had me rather anxious about how I would actually be during the race.  In fact, I have been rather anxious about the race in general for about a week.  I still felt like I was coming back from a lousy couple of weeks with hardly any training and have been feeling "heavier than my ideal race weight," to put it mildly.  When asked this morning by a stranger in the elevator whether I was going for a PR today, I simply said that I was looking to have fun and did not expect anything big (note the use of foreshadowing).

The race itself went through the heart of downtown Boston, starting in Copley Square, going around Boston Common and then looping back to take a left (as opposed to the Marathon's right) onto Hereford St. and finishing by crossing the Marathon's finish line, which is pretty cool even for a 5K.  I made it to the start line with about 10 minutes to go and immediately needed to find a port-o-potty for the third time in 10 minutes.  Before any race I always find I have to go, regardless of any liquid I may or may not have had since the last time.  However, with no port-o-potties in sight and being hemmed in by metal barriers, I figured I'd have to just grit my teeth and bear it.
Trying to be a conscientious runner, I lined myself up at the anticipated 7 minute mile pace corral.  You could sense antsiness amongst the runners while the announcer went through introducing the distinguished guests, including Boston Billy Rogers.  Of course, I was very silly for hoping that everyone would be doing the right thing and lining up where they should have been.  As a result, I found myself struggling to cut through children, walkers, and Sunday Joggers while trying to hit my stride.  The need to "go" was so bad within the first half-mile that I considered veering off course at every alley, but the feeling went away eventually and I was able to think more about running than peeing.

My race plan was to try to take it relatively easy for the first mile so I could gauge how I felt and not die, like I tend to do.  I thought maybe a 7:15 first mile would set me up nicely.  Fail.  I glanced down at my watch at the first mile marker, which was located at the only "hill" on the course, going up Beacon Hill around the Park St. T stop, before turning to the only downhill, and found I had gone through mile 1 in 6:54.  Ugh.  I thought that would be the death of me, that I'd never be able to recover.  Well, I was wrong.

Shockingly, I went through Mile 2 in 6:50, aided by the aforementioned downhill portion, but also including 2 tight turns.  It was at this point that I really felt myself laboring.  Having made it this far though, I thought that I might be able to gut through 1.1 more miles without my usual slowing down and quasi-quitting.  I always know exactly when I take my foot off the gas and let myself slow down.  This race, whenever I felt like doing that I did two things: 1. I focused on quickening my turnover, which always makes me feel like I'm being propelled forward, and 2. I made up a new mantra, "There is no slow, there is only running."  Through this mantra, I was able to convince myself that going slow was simply not an option.  As a result, of these adjustments, I went through mile 3 in 6:52.  Seeing the finish line in the distance, I took my mind back to every treadmill run I do where I add an increased speed kick for the last minute of every workout and knew that I could find one final gear to surge into to make it to the finish.

The end result?  An official time of 21:15, good for a nearly 30 second PR from what I ran a little under a year ago.  Maybe it was the lowered expectations and my desire to not waste a good start that led to it, or maybe I was just in better shape than I thought, but either way I was floating at the finish line.

Lessons learned from this race?  First of all, I have to say I liked running in the running skirt.  No, I'm not going to make a habit of it, but it was pretty comfortable.  This was also my first time running in arm warmers, courtesy of Brooks ID, and will definitely make more use of them in the future.  But, gear aside, I learned that I can push through pain and adversity when I dig deep and convince myself that things aren't as bad as they feel.  I hope to carry that lesson with me in the future, both in training and in races.

After reading OCG’s race report and seeing those remarkable before and after pictures (we Goon Ladies age well), I felt compelled to write a race report for the Melrose Run For Women.  But I am writing it from the other side.

In 1997, my running partner of 12 years was pregnant and couldn’t run, so she told me about a new running club, the Melrose Running Club, and thought I could find some running partners there.  My kids were 4 and 1 years old, so I joined just to get out the house!  When we decided to start an all women’s race, I figured I could use my “delegation” skills and signed up to volunteer.  It’s the only way I’ve wanted to spend Mother’s Day ever since.

OCG’s story is the reason why we all volunteer for races.  We want to share the joy that we have being part of such a supportive and fun community.  We know one race, and they will be hooked!  You can walk, walk/run, skip, or juggle, but crossing that finish line is euphoric.  You want to come back for one more “hit”.

When I help out at races, I get the most excitement out of seeing people, especially women, seeing themselves as an athlete for the very first time.  They think, “I didn’t finish last!” and “I’m going to be faster next time!”  We sometimes have doubts about our “hobby”, since our running sometimes takes up extra time in our schedules, but it is really an investment.  I got a few of my Weight Watchers members to walk on Sunday and one of them summed up the experience best:

 “I just wanted to thank you so much for all of your support yesterday. I know it took me 57 minutes and 42 seconds, but I cannot put into words how good it felt to do something that made me feel so proud of myself for once. After twenty years of clapping for kids, fingers crossed for college application responses and the never ending driving in circles around Wilmington, it just felt so good to take the time to do something so healthy first and not try and fit it in when others schedules allowed. Julia (her daughter) and I hope to make this a yearly tradition.”

OK, I know my last few race reports have been a little mushy, so I promise in my next one I’ll be my usual sarcastic self!

How does a 12 minute PR become a disappointment?  How does a fellow Goon end up “sleeping with the enemy” on Patriots Day? I’m here to explain my journey, but first I’d like to comment on the latter. There’s a GOON boycott on Codfish this year as well as some heavy sanctions levied against Mr. Rump Swab himself, including but not limited to NO use of GOON LIMO until further notice.

Now, on to my story. My Patriot’s day actually started last fall when I received my postcard from the BAA stating that I would be starting the Boston Marathon from Corral # 9, my very first time as a qualified runner!  No pressure right? Enter January and outdoor winter track with Fernando Braz “The Professor”.    http://www.goingthedistancefb.com/    

I asked PROF  for a tough marathon outline hoping I could simulate the same results as Bay state,  knowing the run from Hopkinton to Boston would be much more difficult. Sticking to his reputation, Fernando delivered another great but tough plan. Sundays was my long run day, most of which had lots of Marathon Pace runs in them. Tuesdays was outdoor track with plenty of speed to test my anaerobic capacity. Thursdays would be another fun day of medium long runs with….that’s right, you guessed it….Marathon Pace runs again. ☺ Running and marathon training would not be the same if I didn’t have my right-hand man with me…..The Judge.

Early training runs included Derry Prep 16M, North Shore 30K and Eastern States 20M. Mother nature was a challenge at the 30K, heavy rains and winds but that couldn’t stop Jack Bauer and his side-kick Tony Almeida….(HillMan and Judge). Similarly, the ES 20M had brutal headwinds, so much so that it would have given a wind farm an orgasm.

I had one minor setback in early May, a right ankle bone contusion, due to a work injury. I missed one week of running (and work) and more importantly a  21 mile long run. This wasn’t my true downfall though, it was something deeper.

Fast forward to Monday morning. I met Doc and he drove us up north to Nashua to meet up with the Gate City Strider Bus. Other GOON notables on the bus were Cougar, OCG, Spanky, Aqua Lung and Steve.  Once in Hopkinton we were entertained by our bus driver trying to straighten out his bus in line with others while at the same time another bus driver standing in the parking lot was yelling at him “somebody get a police officer over here before this asshole takes off my mirror”. As a CDL-A truck driver myself (for Coca-Cola) I found this to be extremely amusing. Yet, it still didn’t take away those anxiety trembles I get before Boston.

I packed my shorts with the appropriate salt tabs and Gu, chugged down my tomato juice and joined Doc and OCG for the long awaited walk to Corral # 9. After a good luck hug from OCG I entered my corral and stood tightly packed in with my herd. The two  F-15’s  flyover sent chills down my arms. I’m really here…I’m really in the first wave …this is so much different than starting way in the back.

The plan was to take 5 mile splits, run a 7:35 pace, make it through the hills of Newton and my running buddy Judge would be waiting at BC to run me in. If I was close to a BQ by the time I got to the Judge he would get me to the promised land, if not, he would help me to the finish.

I checked my watch the first 2 miles just to make sure I did not go out too fast… steady as she goes…right on target. The crowds were GREAT this year and it was a pleasure to be able to settle into “my” pace right along with runners of similar ability. Mile 5 was right on. I took Gatorade every water stop and my salt tabs every ½ hour. The weather was partly sunny, cool but with a bone chilling north east wind. Miles 6-10 seemed like it took forever. You know when you’re running well and the miles seem to fly by..? Well, this day was not one of them. I reached Mile 10 and bingo! Right on target. So what’s the worry…? I don’t know, I can’t explain it. Performance anxiety… probably.

Next checkpoint for me was the Half. I was enjoying the run, the crowds, the other runners and sticking to the plan. I reach the Half in 1:40…perfect….even if I slow through the Newton Hills (which is highly likely) I am a late kicker and having Judge and a downhill last 5 miles,  I can do it ! Mile 15, check my watch and I am 90 seconds behind schedule…Uhmm  SHIT.  I fight the good fight (mentally) until I reach the Newton Firehouse and bang a right turn and here we go. I just ran the Newton Hills one week prior as a final training run so this terrain is fresh in my memory. I try to use the crowds to my advantage but no such luck. I even smiled as I saw this huge GOON flag waving in the wind, held by John Murphy. My mind quit and my body slowed to a jog. This is going to get ugly. “Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor”? A phrase Judge and I commonly use didn’t even work.  It felt as if all my energy was sucked out of my body and I was relegated to jogger status.

It was somewhere on heartbreak hill (I think) where OCG came blazing by me running strong and focused. I make it up and over heartbreak but not after a couple of short walk breaks, and downhill we go. I finally make it to BC and spot the Judge in his BIG G singlet and a new skull and crossbones headband. Alongside him was Warrior with a sign that read GO HillMan.

Judge jumps in next to me and says “what pace do you want to run?” I reply 8:30-9:00 if I’m lucky. He looks at me all deranged and confused. Yes Judge, you are bringing home a wounded soldier. I do my best to keep with him as he tries his best to pull me along but it’s just not in the cards today. I frequently have to blurt out “stop” as my calves start their dehydration dance. Once this scenario starts I am demoted to a run/walk status for the remaining 3 miles. NICE….how are you?

As I am eventually passed  by my GOON peers Glamour Hammer, OCG, Doc and Enforcer,  Judge reinforces the positive and says ” you have nothing to prove…you made it here…you worked hard”.  Some days you have it and some days you don’t. Running down Boylston I invariably try to kick it in for a strong finish but my calves scream no and it is time for one final walk break before I jog it in to finish line of the 2010 Boston Marathon smiling, pretending that I am pleased with my finish time of 3hr 38min.

Doc, Judge and I walk together to get our medals, drinks, snacks and tinfoil towels LOL. We made our way leisurely back to the Buckminster Hotel, located at Mile 25, watching some of the finishers and taking in the sights and sounds of the crowds, while getting congratulatory comments from viewers in Boston. That did give me some sense of accomplishment today.

So what went wrong? I didn’t eat a big enough breakfast…? Probably. I changed my strategy…? Probably. I put too much pressure on myself..? Probably. The chilly wind wiped the sweat off my body causing dehydration…? Probably. First Boston as a qualified runner = anxiety..? Probably.  In retrospect, I did my best and didn’t completely quit.

Next up is Mohawk  http://www.mohawkhudsonmarathon.com/   that’s where to look for the BIG G.

Hillchecka