USA House and the Men's Marathon

One of our last days in Rio we used the guest passes Jason had for us to enjoy the hospitality at the USA House.  The kids loved the VIP treatment.  Jared made a killing on pins that day.  It seemed like everyone there wanted to trade with him or better yet just give him pins.  There was plenty of food, drinks, treats and TVs to watch everything that was going on around Rio.  We watched Brazil beat Germany in the men's gold medal soccer match.  Everyone in the USA House was definitely cheering on Brazil for redemption from the embarrassment Germany handed Brazil two years ago in the World Cup.  We also had fun cheering on Team USA to another successful night at Track and Field.  The best part of the day though was mingling with the athletes who were there.  We met several athletes with such inspiring stories.  These aren't the ones you hear about on TV and they might not have won any medals but their dedication and hard work to make it to the Olympics were inspiring to hear about.  When we had all grab a plate of dinner we were trying to find a place to all sit together to eat.  I went to a table with some extra chairs and asked to borrow some chairs without really looking at who I was talking to.  Then I looked up and realized it was Desi Linden.  I was a bit tongue tied at first not knowing what to say.  I congratulated her on a great marathon.  Later I got up the courage to go back and chat with her a bit more about my experience at the Olympic Trials, running for Brooks, and ask for a picture.  She was very kind and I loved the good fortune of being there at the same time she was!

We also had the privilege of watching Ryan Crouser who won the gold medal in shot put give an award to his mentor.  We had a few minutes afterward to meet him.  He tried to convince Jared to throw the shot put since we told him he isn't fond of running but we'd love to keep him in the track and field family!  Then he posed for a picture and even let Kaitlyn hold his gold medal!

 It was a lot of fun seeing the amazing atmosphere that Jason had been working in for the last few weeks!  The games were winding up but we were able to catch a few more events.  We watched the bike and run for the men's and women's triathalon on the road.  We also went to the lagoon to watch the canoe sprint finals.  There weren't any US teams in the finals but we enjoyed celebrating with the home crowd when some Brazilian's medaled. The last event was the men's marathon.  Again we went to Botafoga and watched the race come past three times.  Some of the highlights were watching local runner Jared Ward run an outstanding race finishing 6th, Galen Rupp winning the bronze medal and Meb Keflezgi in his last Olympics.

  Later that day a storm was blowing in.  The wind was howling and the beach front was deserted and downright eerie.  The wind was painfully blowing the sand in our faces as we rushed back to our hotel.  We sat safely in the hotel watching the closing ceremony while the storm raged outside, wind howling and rain pelting the windows.  The show was a typical Brazilian party and I found a wave of emotions coming over me as I watched.  Memories from the week flooded my mind, a love for the Brazilian culture and the city of Rio, and sadness that it was all over.  What an incredible experience it was and one that we will never forget!

Is This Really Happening Again?!!

In February after the Olympic Trials I was frustrated and felt like I needed to run another marathon and get it right.  I was tempted to give the Ogden Marathon another shot even though it was only three months away.  Maybe I could get the win I was after last year and if conditions were better, run a great time banking on the fitness level I had built up all winter.  Yet at the same time I was tired from all the intense training and knew that my body needed some time to recover from the ordeal it had been put through not only battling the heat in LA but the intense training period all winter.  With the help of my coach, we decided it would be best to stick with the half marathon for Ogden and give myself a much needed mental and physical break from the long marathon training.  I took a month easy and then set my sights on getting ready for a fast half marathon in May.  I was happy with the fitness I had been able to maintain and yet enjoyed the break from the really long marathon training runs and high weekly mileage.

The two weeks leading up to Ogden were just rough.  Along with some serious concerns that are too personal to share here, I was just in the middle of a bad luck streak.  You know the type of week where your car gets hit, you lose your keys, you can't seem to get anything accomplished that you are trying to, you lose track of time and miss your daughter's program at school...  It just went on and on leaving me thinking what else could possibly happen now?  It was just the feeling of being kicked when you are already down.  Sometimes life just hits you hard and this was one of those times.  On top of all this it is May which means every afternoon and evening my calendar is filled with half a dozen activities and I am constantly running here and there trying to get it all done and not feeling very successful.  I was feeling emotionally and physically exhausted!  I was lacking the excitement that I usually feel leading up to a race.  I felt it could end one of two ways; either I was not mentally ready and this would be a rough race or I had a ton of pent up frustrations to burn off and I could finally channel all this somewhere productive.

I tried to get my head in the game with visualizing the perfect race.  I knew this was going to be an extremely competitive year for the half marathon with several runners that could challenge me.  Everyone seemed to think Sariah Long was the favorite with good reason.  She's an extremely talented runner and in excellent shape right now.  I knew I would need a perfect race to have a chance at beating her but I also knew she was aiming for a 1:17 and so was I.  I felt like I was capable of running that time on that course in the shape I am in as long as conditions cooperated.  At least the weather forecast was looking perfect: windy on Friday, and rainy on Sunday but Saturday was supposed to be cool and partly cloudy.  Finally a good day for running the Ogden Marathon.  At least that's what the forecast was saying all week until Friday.  Then suddenly they were saying there was a storm sticking around they hadn't expected.  Light rain was now expected for Saturday morning, especially in the mountains.  Not good news since we start up in Eden and run down Ogden Canyon.  Light rain wouldn't be bad though. I have had some successful races in light rain and it is better than heat.  I tried to stay positive, knowing I was already a bit weak on the mental side.

Saturday morning the alarm went off at 4 am.  I felt exhausted with not nearly enough sleep in the two weeks leading up to the race.  Jason, Andrew, and I boarded the bus (it was already starting to rain downtown) and headed to Eden.  I was sleepy on the bus and wished I could fall asleep up the winding canyon but knew I would wake up motion sick if I did.  It was raining fairly hard in Eden but I had come prepared with plenty of waterproof layers to keep warm before the start.  When it was time to warm up I actually felt hot in all my layers.  I felt tired on my warm up and hoped I would feel better once the race started.  I noticed the wind would be at our back most of the way around the lake and opted to leave my long sleeve shirt in my bag since I was feeling quite warm with the wind at my back and just wear arm warmers and gloves. (Mistake #1)  I was just finishing my warmup when they announced six minutes until race start.  I still had to change my shoes, drop my clothing bag and fight my way through all of the runners up to the starting line so I forgot to grab my visor out of my bag to keep the rain off my face. (Mistake #2)  As soon as we were started I felt my right shoe was a little loose.  In my rush to get my gear on I hadn't laced up my shoe tight enough which led to a blister later in the race. (Mistake #3)  The first couple miles of the race went about as I expected.  The rain was coming down steadily but we turned south shortly into the first mile and the wind was at our backs.  Sariah went ahead but I expected her to go out faster than me.  I was sticking to my race plan this year after the lesson I learned last year.  I wanted to hold back on the hills the first four miles and pick up the pace once I got to the canyon and hopefully catch her there.  I was aiming for 5:55 average pace but I planned on keeping my miles over six minutes around Pineview figuring I could run 5:45s once we dropped into the canyon.  Jasmine Sessions and Katie Thompson stuck with me as we headed up the biggest hill a half mile into the race.  Jasmine got a few feet ahead of me at the top of the hill but stayed right there the next couple miles.  I wasn't concerned.  I'd wait to make up the distance in the canyon.  I couldn't believe how wet the road was and now with all my sweats off I was starting to realize it was colder than I thought.  As we wound around Pineview it brought back all the bad memories of last year.  The conditions were so similar and I thought of the hypothermia starting to set in and Cynthia starting to pull away from me and realizing that I was losing what I wanted so badly.  I was trying to stay positive but the conditions were bring so many negative thoughts into my mind.  

The last mile before the dam the wind suddenly shifted.  Instead of being at our backs it was coming straight up and out of the canyon.  Suddenly Jasmine and the men she was running with were getting farther ahead.  I told myself not to panic.  I was almost to the canyon.  Sariah still wasn't even too far ahead.  I was off pace a little but I could still pick up the pace in the canyon and move up.  I had at least saved some energy for the canyon and was ready to start working hard.  I set my sights on Jasmine's group and started reeling them in.  Within a mile I had caught them.  I thought I might just pass Jasmine but when I caught up she picked up her pace and stayed with me.  I was glad to have someone to run down the canyon with.  We kept commenting to each other about how this was just as bad as last year and we so glad we were only running the half marathon this year instead of the full.  The canyon was completely flooded with water.  Every step was a slosh in a puddle.  My feet were heavy.  My hands and legs were cold.  We were running into a head wind the entire way down the canyon which made the rain pelt us in the face.  I was discouraged to keep seeing my mile splits over six minute miles.  I wanted to pick up the pace but I just couldn't get my legs to move any faster.  My thoughts became more negative as the race progressed.  "I can't believe I'm doing this again.  I can't believe this is as bad as last year.  I hate this.  There is nothing fun about this at all.  I just want this to be over.  All I want to do is get home."  Jasmine and I kept each other going down the canyon.  Finally towards the bottom we hit a steep drop off and were finally able to run that mile in 5:53.  The next one was the mouth of the canyon and we were greeted by extremely strong wind gusts coming up the canyon.  The wind blows so hard out of that canyon every morning and I was looking forward to the wind blowing us towards the finish but instead it was fighting us hard.  This is the point where I mentally lost this race.  I simply didn't care anymore.  I was miserable.  Sariah was gone and there was no catching her.  My cold legs that didn't want to move in the canyon were hurting now.  I could feel I was on the verge of hypothermia setting in again.  I really can't remember the last time I just gave up in a race but I did at that point.  Jasmine started to pull away and I could have gone with her but I didn't.  I didn't care enough to fight the pain in my legs.  I just let her go and chose to slow down a bit and hope that would ease the pain. I couldn't win the race and there was no prize money at stake.  The top three in the half marathon only get gift certificates and they all get the same thing so why fight for 2nd when I felt so terrible? (Mistake #4)

I should have remembered there were some fast runners behind me and it wasn't smart to slow down but I wasn't really thinking clearly.  Mile 12 was pathetically slow (6:30) and when I hit the mile marker Katie was suddenly right on my shoulder.  I was surprised but it was just what I needed to get my head back in the race.  I knew I had given up and it was about to cost me third place.  I kicked it into another gear and realized I was actually gaining some ground on Jasmine as well.  I'd let her get too far ahead though.  I didn't have enough ground left to catch her.  The race was for third now and it was everything I could do to hold Katie off that last stretch down Grant.  I obviously had a lot more left than I wanted to admit because my last mile was under six minutes.  Only the second mile of the whole race I ran on pace.  I finished in 1:20:23 in third place, not a fantastic time and well off the 1:17 I was aiming for but not a terrible time considering the conditions.  Shortly after I finished Andrew came across 1:21:26.  He ran a terrific race!  I told him to take it easy the first five miles and save it for the canyon.  He ran the canyon just like I was hoping to, hitting 5:45 pace and passing a ton of runners.  I joked with him that I better enjoy it because it just might be the last race I beat him in...ever!  Jason came in a few minutes later.  He had done the race more as a workout since he's still coming back from an injury.  I didn't stick around any longer to see anything else.  I skipped the food and headed straight for my bag of clothes and car to get home and shower.  I was so cold I was shaking and my teeth were chattering.  The only thing that saved me from ending up in the med tent with hypothermia again is the fact that I was only out there half as long this year.  I was so glad that I had decided to stick with the half marathon this year.  I only had a tiny bit of regret when Jason called to tell me the winner of the full marathon had finished in 2:55.

I have been fortunate to win a lot of races the last couple years against some talented runners but it's frustrating and discouraging that I can't come up with a win in my home town race.  (I did win the 5k one year but I don't think that really counts since no one pays much attention to the 5k.)  Sariah ran a fantastic race in terrible conditions and I was happy for her.  She set a new course record but the ironic thing is that the top four women runners all broke the course record.  If I had run that time any other year besides this year I would have gotten the win and the course record.  And my time in last year's marathon would have won the marathon easily this year and most other years.  There are only a few women that have ever broken 2:50 on that course.  As I was commiserating with a friend he joked, "I always pick to wrong line a the grocery store too."  It did at least put a smile on my face.  It just feels like everything is against me to win this race.  The last three years I have run the half or full it has been a torrential downpour.  Ironically the rain cleared up Saturday by about 10 in the morning.  It was like someone had just dumped a bucket over the Ogden Marathon during the race and then it was done.  As much as I would like to try to conquer this course I'll most likely be sitting this one out the next couple years. I'm sure it can't rain every single year but I feel like this race has become so mentally and emotionally draining on me.  I'm also hoping that the next two years I'll be at the state track meet instead cheering on my son.  He just missed qualifying this year so I'm excited for his chance next year.  Maybe by the time he has graduated from high school I'll be ready to give this course another try although I may be too old by then to get the win I want.

Meanwhile, this is a good time to reevaluate and set some new goals. This was a bit of a wake up call to all the little things I could do better.  Being better about what I eat, getting my core strengthening done, the sleep I need and my mileage where it should be. The good thing about the half marathon is that it doesn't require nearly as much recovery.  I'll give it a try again early this summer and hopefully be able to walk away feeling like I ran the race I was capable of.  I've opted out of a fall marathon because of some exciting news Jason received.  He has been invited by the USOC to be a physician for Team USA at the Olympic Games in Rio de Janeiro!  I'm looking forward to the trip of a lifetime with my family in Brazil in August and just enjoying this amazing experience rather than focusing on my training.  Once we return I'm planning on jumping back into training again for the California International Marathon in December.  I'm just keeping my fingers crossed for some good weather.

Olympic Marathon Trials

In October 2014 when I qualified for the Olympic Trials in Chicago, 16 months seemed like forever. February finally rolled around and I felt like I was on an emotional roller coaster.  Some moments I felt like I was a kid on Christmas Eve and sometimes I found myself breaking down in tears at the realization that my dreams were really coming true.   And then there were those times the dreaded butterflies in my stomach came around.  With the countless hours and effort of preparation I had put in I really wanted to have a good race.  All the waiting and all the training focused on this one race and it was finally here! I know a lot of people think of the Olympic Trials simply as a step to get to the Olympics but for me I had no expectation of making the team and this was my Olympic experience.  I felt privileged to be competing in this kind of an event.  Winter is a tough time to stay in good shape but I had diligently put in the training every day with great results.  My coach and I were in agreement; I was in the best shape I have ever been in.  I was ready to have the race of my life and run with the best marathoners in the country.  My Brooks team had sent out new uniforms and shoes.  My family was packed and ready to go for the experience of a lifetime.  We were headed to LA.  The only problem... the weather forecast.  Record high temperatures in LA with a 10:22 start time planned for the women's race.  All I could do was trust in my training and pray for the best.

I had so many awesome friends and family that were supporting me and wishing me well.  Thoughtful gifts and cards literally brought tears to my eyes.  The day we were leaving I woke up and walked outside to see these signs that my friends had made and surprised me with all over my yard.

We chose to drive to LA instead of fly since I wanted to take the kids and let them experience the Olympic Trials and because I really hate to fly and avoid it when I can.  We drove half way on Wednesday afternoon and pulled into downtown Los Angeles Thursday afternoon.

Here I am, all checked in with my signature on the sign!  This was so real now!

We stayed at a condo about a mile from the start/finish area because there was more space for all the kids rather than staying at the athlete hotel.  It was a bit crazy trying to figure out where it was and how to get checked in but we were finally all settled.  That night Jason and I attended a dinner for all the athletes at the California Science Center.  It was a fun setting at the home of the Space Shuttle Endeavor.  We were greeted at the entrance by Brazilian samba dancers and walked the red carpet into the museum.  The space shuttle was amazing and the excitement in the air was tangible.

The highlight of the night was meeting Meb Keflezighi, Olympic silver medalist and winner of the Boston and New York Marathons.  He was great and we joked about not getting in each other's way when he lapped me on Saturday and his hopes of making the team to Rio.

I planned on a relaxing day Friday but it ended up being filled with preparation for the race.  In the morning we drove to USC to run that part of the course.  It was already hot at 9:00 in the morning and I was starting to realize what I was going to have to deal with the next day in the heat.  I watched other runners running the course and started to feel a little intimidated looking at how good all these athletes were.  USC's campus was gorgeous and the sunshine felt good after a long cold winter at home.  And the Coliseum with the Olympic Rings made the perfect backdrop for everything!  Last shake out run and I was ready to go!

That afternoon was the uniform check and the technical meeting.  It was so amazing to be sitting in the same room and bumping into all my running heroes in the hall.  Finally after what felt like a lot of sitting around we got what we had been waiting for all day.  Our bibs!  Then it was back to the condo to get some dinner, prepare my gear and attempt to get some rest with all the butterflies in my stomach!

Race morning arrived!  I actually had a great night's sleep (rare for me with pre-race nerves) and got up early to eat a good breakfast.  With a later start time I was taking advantage of being able to get in more calories before the race.  We chose to walk to the start line rather than dealing with the hassle of parking.  The temperature felt nice in the shade but it was already feeling warm in the sunshine.  We took a few more pictures at the start area and I was able to find my parents and brother who had come for the race before heading to the athlete area.  The start and finish area was exciting with banners and flags everywhere.  The streets were crowded with fans waiting for the race to start.  It was such a fun atmosphere!

I found my Brooks teammate, Taylor Ward, who is also being coached by Paul Pilkington.  Unfortunately she lives in Alabama so we don't get to train together.  It was nice to have someone to chat with to pass the time until we could warm up.  It was finally time to get started.  I felt great on the warm up!  My legs felt fantastic after the taper!  We changed shoes and went back out on the street to do some strides.  Just then the horn went off for the men's race at 10:06 (timed for the national TV broadcast on NBC.)  I watched them fly out of the start area then after a couple more quick strides headed over to the holding area.  Our start time was 10:22 and they only had a couple minutes to move us all out to the start after the men completed their first two mile loop.  A few final instructions were given, the favorites were announced.  The men came racing past at the end of their first lap and I was standing on the starting line with 202 of the best women marathoners in the country.  I started to tear up again as the horn went off and we made the turn onto the two mile lap to the cheering of all the crowds.  I didn't have too long to get emotional though.  I needed to get my head in the race!

The first lap was 2.2 miles and we headed north for a lap through downtown Los Angeles.  There were a lot of turns in this part course, including a U turn which made it difficult with a big pack.  My plan with the heat was to go out conservative and save something for the end.  I hated to do it knowing I was in PR shape and it might cost me a PR, but I knew I would have to take the heat into account.  I settled in with a pack towards the back that felt comfortable.  It was still early enough that we had shade from the buildings downtown and I felt great!  I hit my first mile in 6:22, a little slow but to account for the pack of runners at the start and the only significant uphill in the course during the first mile I thought it was perfect.  My plan was to average 6:15 for the first half.  We hit the U-turn and were greeted with a head wind.  It wasn't strong enough to notice until we were running straight into it.  I had a good pack to draft off of though and decided to use it on the stretch down to USC.    The next mile was 6:12, a little faster than I wanted but since we went down the hill we had just climbed I still felt like I was right where I wanted to be and feeling fantastic.

At 2.2 miles we crossed the finish line and started the 6 mile loop to the south towards USC that we would have to complete four times.  The six mile loop consisted of a long out and back section on Figueroa St. almost two miles each direction with a loop at USC at the south end and a U turn at the north end before the loop through Gilbert Plaza to the finish line.  It was fun running past all the crowds and my family and mile three ended up being my fastest one, 6:08.  I knew I needed to put on the brakes and save some energy.  I wasn't panicked about being too fast, I was still feeling good and just used it as a sign to back off.  We were leaving downtown and with fewer tall buildings we were in direct sunlight.  It was getting hot.  Mile four was 6:18, perfect.  I started to wonder if I needed to back off the pack I was running with.  It was starting to take a little more effort than I wanted to put in at this point but mile five was a 6:19.  This pack wasn't too fast for me and I made the decision to stay with the pack to help with the wind.  The south end of the loop ran through USC's campus.  It was a gorgeous section of the course and the only part I didn't mind running four times.  People were cheering and taking pictures and the band was even out playing for us.  And the last landmark to pass by was the Coliseum before heading back out on Figueroa.

Thanks Brian Nicholson for the picture!

Back on Figueroa the wind was at our backs but we also had a gradual uphill to finish the lap.  There was a little shade from some of the buildings at the far side of the road but it disappeared in the later laps of the race as we approached noon.  Heading back up Figueroa is when I started to feel like I would be in trouble.  The pack ahead of me started pulling away slightly.  Since the wind was at my back I let them go to conserve energy.  My lap paces had slipped into the 6:20s.  I was worried because it was feeling like I was putting too much effort to run this pace and there was so much running left.  It just kept getting hotter.  I drank every bit from my water bottles trying to stay on top of hydration.  Maybe it was just the slight uphill and I could get my splits back where I needed them on the downhill.  But then I got to the U-turn and remembered the wind I was dealing with the other direction.  I passed the finish line again, not encouraged that I would have to pass it three more times before I was done.  I picked up the pace a little and was able to catch up to the pack I had let go for a wind break.  Mile 9 was a 6:13, right back where I wanted to be but it was my last one on pace.  I slipped right back into the 6:20s after that and realized there was no way I could keep pushing myself under this and make it through 26 miles in these conditions.  

When I was approaching the Coliseum on my second lap I heard the vehicles approaching from behind that were leading the men's race.  While, I knew I would get lapped with the head start the men had, I hadn't anticipated it quite this early.  It was exciting to watch Meb, Galen Rupp, and a runner I didn't recognize race past with Jared Ward close on their heels.  I felt a bit of a surge of energy with the excitement of the race going on for the Olympic team but it didn't last long.  Soon we were back on Figueroa with the relentless sun beating down.  I came through the halfway point at 1:23.  A PR wasn't going to happen but I thought a 2:46 would be a decent time in these conditions.   But I don't know who I was kidding thinking I could run the second half as fast as I had run the first.  I felt done and I had 13 miles left to run in this heat.  The lap course was starting to get mentally tough.  I was approaching the end of my second lap and the thought that I would have to complete that long loop two more times was daunting.  I was starting to catch some of the runners that were struggling but I was slowing down as well.  My splits had slipped into the 6:30s.  I had done my training runs at a faster pace than this with much less effort.  I caught up to Taylor who was having a tough race.  We ran a bit together and I tried to encourage her to keep going.  Little did she know I was talking as much to myself as I was to her.  Each time I approached the water bottle tables there were more water bottles on the tables.  I wasn't passing that many runners.  It could only mean one thing.  Runners were dropping out: a lot of them.  At this point I felt like I went into survival mode.  I just had to finish.  I couldn't go home and face my family and friends that had supported me without finishing and I knew I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I gave up.  Somehow I had to get myself to the finish line and I knew it would be some of the hardest miles I had ever run.

Thanks Andrew for the pictures!  Cool effects with the color on this one!

At mile 16 I was approaching USC again.  I couldn't wait for the only stretch of shade left on the course.  I looked at my watch hoping maybe I had picked it up a little but it was a 6:45.  It was the last split I looked at.  It wasn't helping to watch my pace.  I just couldn't make my legs move any faster.  A lot of the men farther back in the race were lapping me now.  It was another mental blow to look at them and realize they were just a few miles from the finish and I would have to do another entire lap after this.  I broke the race into small pieces and tackled them one at a time.  I would tell myself just get to the water bottles.  Just make it to the wet towels, a relief that didn't last long enough.  Then just make it to the U-turn and past the finish.  Finally I was on my last lap.  It felt so long and so hot but at least with everything I passed I could tell myself it was the last time!  By now the temperature was in the low 80s.  I didn't need to look at my watch to know I was continuing to slow down.  This had turned into a fight just to make it to the finish.  I continued to watch runners drop out and I was surprised to still even be passing a few.  Usually when I die at the end of a race like this I started getting passed like crazy.  A few runners did pass me but not many.  Everyone else was struggling as much as me.  I remember getting to USC, only 3 miles left to go, and having the thought pass through my head, "Am I in last place?"  But I looked behind me to see a long string of runners as far as I could see doing exactly what I was doing, struggling just to keep going.  The scorching sun beat down relentlessly as I made my way out of the relief of the trees on campus and onto the 8th and final stretch down Figueroa.  I was starting to get cramping in my calves and I worried that if I cramped any more I would have to stop.  The Staples Center was up ahead but seemed so far.  It was a grueling last two miles but eventually I was making the final U-turn and headed into Gilbert Plaza to cross the finish line for the last time.   They were awarding the top three women finishers as I crossed.  The attention was all on them instead of on me as I struggled to make my way across but it didn't matter.  A volunteer grabbed me to keep me from collapsing.  I could finally stop running.  The tears came as soon as I was across.  I cried because I made it.  I cried because it was over.  I cried because it was the hardest race I have ever run.  And I cried as a huge wave of disappointment washed over me.  This wasn't the way this experience was supposed to end.  I was better than this and this wasn't what I spent all winter training for.  I thought of the runs I did through blizzards, on Christmas, miles and miles alone out in West Haven in 20 degrees, mile repeats on the indoor track, and how strong I had felt through it all.  At that moment I didn't feel strong at all.  I felt beat, not by myself and not by the other runners, just beat by the heat.  But I finished and they hung the finisher's medal around my neck.  I'll never wear an Olympic medal but to me this was just as good.

Taylor finished just behind me.  I gave her a hug and was so glad she had finished as well.  I made my way through the finish chute, downed a couple bottles of water and poweraid, gratefully grabbed a bag of ice and put it on my neck to try to cool off.  Then I found the only small open spot of grass I could and laid down.  There was no shade.  The only hope of cooling off was the bag of ice on top of me but at least I didn't have to move.  I'm really not sure how long I stayed there.  I finally realized my family was probably looking for me and I should at least go grab my bag and phone.  So I retrieved my gear and sure enough had a few panicked texts from Jason asking if I was okay.  I was surprised to see they were already tearing down the finish area.  There were a few stragglers coming in but that was it.  I found my way to my family and a hug from my kids made me feel a lot better.  And a hug from my mom, you're never too old for that.  My family puts up with so much during my training.  The older kids are great helpers and pick up a lot of the slack when I'm gone helping with their younger siblings.  This has truly been a team effort to get me where I am and I couldn't do it without their support!  You should have seen the looks on some of the athletes faces when I told them I had four kids and that the oldest is 16.  It was so great to have my family here cheering me on.  They moved down the street away from the crowds so I could see them and it really kept me going at the end of the race when it was so tough.

 I loved having my parents and my "little" brother there cheering me on!

 And a huge thank you to my sponsors.  Brooks has been a great team to be a part of and their sponsorship is a huge help.  Also a shout out for USA Track and Field Utah for the generous travel stipend.  It's so great to have organizations like these supporting me in chasing my dreams.

This journey I have taken over the last six years since I started running competitively again has been incredible.  I owe so much of my success to my Coach Paul Pilkington.  I was reflecting this weekend on how far I've come.  When I started working with him I was a 3:11 marathon runner that was happy to win an age group prize.  He found in me a lot of potential that I had given up on decades ago when I was struggling in college.  I also found a great group of training partners when I started working with Paul.  Some of my best friends are those that I put countless miles in with.  They are the ones who motivate me to get out of bed when it's cold and I'd rather turn off the alram.  They get me through the hard workouts and long runs.  It has truly been a team effort to get me here.

And most of all I owe so much to Jason for his never ending support.  He works just as hard as I do in his running and has struggled with injuries and illness that have kept him from achieving what he wants. It would be easy for him to be jealous of what I have accomplished but he has been my best friend and support the whole time.  I wouldn't be who I am without him!

At first I was embarrassed at my time, 2:55:35.  How could I be part of such a prestigious competition and perform so poorly?  But as I looked at the results I realized that I was far from being alone.  A few statistics from the day: Out of 202 women who started the race only 149 finished.  That's a whopping 25% DNF for the women and for the men it was worse. 1/3 of the men dropped out.  Just that figure alone makes me awfully glad I just made it to the finish line.  Only 23 women ran under 2:43, the qualifying mark when most of us qualified for the trials.  On the men's side only 14 ran under the 2:18 qualifying mark.  I finished 104th, right in the middle.  Before the trials I felt a good race for me would put me in the top 100 although I thought it would take 2:40 or faster to do that.  My seed was 107 and considering all the half marathon qualifiers were seeded at the end (many of whom could run faster than me) I finished higher than expected.  There were a few exceptions that ran outstanding races but I think the majority of the athletes went home feeling just like I did.  They were capable of so much better.  I ran with the best of the best and even they struggled.  I can't help but feel most of the blame falls on USATF and NBC for running us in the heat of the day.  While no one can predict record high temperatures months in advance it would have been a completely different race if we had started at 6:00 or 7:00 like most marathons do.  The 10:22 start time to accommodate a live TV broadcast was a foolish decision which I'm assuming was made for monetary benefit and it hurt the athletes tremendously. I hope that in the future USATF will take the athletes needs into more serious consideration.

A couple days after the race one of my kids asked if I would try to go to the trials again in 2020.  That depends a lot on what USATF sets as the qualifying mark and how I'm running in a year and a half or so when the qualifying period opens.  Right now I feel like I would love another chance at doing this the right way but I'll be pushing 40 by the time qualifying opens again.  This may have been my only chance but I'm so grateful I had this experience.  I have memories I will treasure for a lifetime!

A Picture Says a Thousand Words

Cold, wet, relief, exhaustion, defeat, dissapointment, finished, comfort, love, compassion, safe, hard work, dedication...  The list goes on and on and this picture says it all to me.  I think you can see exactly how I felt at this moment.  Saturday was the hardest race I have ever run and not one that I want to look back on.

The day started with such high hopes.  I had trained all winter for this.  This was the only marathon I was planning on running this year and I had picked Ogden for one reason.  I wanted a win at home.  I poured my heart into training this winter all with this goal in mind, and a second goal or running 2:45 or faster to break the course record.  I felt like I was in the best shape I had ever been in and capable of achieving both of these goals.  Over the past few weeks I had a lot of people say to me that Ogden should be an "easy" win for me.  My response was always the same.  There is nothing easy about a marathon.  I felt confident that I had as good of a chance as anyone at breaking the tape but I knew that there would be a few women there with the ability to challenge me.  The weather forecast was looking terrible.  Heavy rain just like two years ago, the last time I ran Ogden, only colder.  I tried to prepare for the worst and hoped for the best.

At 5:40 a.m. the buses dropped us off at the start up near Causey Reservoir it was chilly but no rain or snow was falling yet.  I went across the street from the start area to a friend's house and took advantage of a warm place to sit and rest.  This was a huge help since there was still an hour and a half until the start of the race.  While I was waiting for the start a few snow flurries started to fall but there were still patches of blue sky above us.  However to the west ominous black clouds were looming.  We were headed straight into the storm.  7:15 was start time and it was still dry where we were.  The first couple miles felt great.  I warmed up quickly and started discarding some of my warmer clothes that I had been wearing over my uniform at the side of the road.  A couple miles into the race a light rain started to fall but it felt nice.  I started thinking that this was a storm that I could handle.  I shouldn't have ignored the black clouds that were up ahead.  Cynthia Fowler and Jasmine Sessions were in the lead with me.  I was grateful for some company and felt fantastic.  I was hitting the mile splits exactly as I planned between 6:10 and 6:15 while we were running the gradual downhill through South Fork Canyon.  Jasmine dropped back a few miles in feeling the pace was too fast for her but Cynthia stayed right with me.  Up to mile nine the race was going exactly how I wanted it to.  By now the rain was coming down heavy and I was getting soaked through.   At mile nine the course turns north and heads through Eden around Pineview reservoir. My race plan was to slow these miles down to about 6:30 pace and save something for Ogden Canyon later in the race since this is the hilly part of the course.  Cynthia was feeling good though and started pushing the pace.  We were hitting miles around 6:07.  It was too fast and I knew it.  I had a debate going on in my head the next few miles about what to do.  I was afraid if I slowed down and let Cynthia go I would never see her again.  How could I give up my hope of winning so early in the race?  I had heard from Cynthia herself and several others that she wasn't nearly as prepared as I was for the marathon distance.  Maybe if I could just stay with her I would outlast her when it got to the later miles in the race.  In hindsight this was my biggest mistake.  I ignored the warning signs my body was giving me that I was expending too much energy on the hills.  I convinced myself that the one who was mentally tough would win this race and I had to find that strength so I stayed with her.

By the half marathon I was starting to get cold.  My arm warmers and gloves were soaked and not doing anything for me anymore.  I was hoping to come through the half at 1:23 then have enough left to negative split and run the second half faster.  We came through the half at 1:21 (average 6:12 mile pace).  Shortly after the half is the biggest hill in the course.  I worked hard to stay right with Cynthia up the hill but by about mile 16 she was starting to pull away.  I was freezing cold and my legs were tired.  She didn't have much of a lead and we were almost to the canyon.  If I could just use the downhill to recover maybe I could catch up to her.  I hadn't slowed down much yet.  And maybe it would warm up a bit as we dropped altitude.  Mile 18 should have been one of my fastest.  It's a steep downhill dropoff at the top of Ogden Canyon.  I ran it in 6:30.  Instead of finding relief in the canyon it was just colder.  The rain was coming down relentlessly and the wind had picked up.  The road was flooded with puddles that were impossible to avoid.  My feet were soaked and heavy.  Cynthia disappeared ahead of me and mile 19 was another one in the 6:30s.  I was fading fast and I still had a long way to run.  I tried to focus on the canyon, one of the most scenic parts of the course to take my mind off what I was feeling.  I knew I'd lost the race but I could still finish in a really good time if I could stick with a 6:30 pace.

Over the past couple days I've tried to figure out what hurt me the most.  Was it the cold or pushing myself too hard through Huntsville?  I've decided it's impossible to separate the two factors but it was a bad combination.  I was slowing down so much that I stopped taking mile splits.  In fact I was hardly even seeing mile markers anymore.  I was just trying to keep putting one foot in front of the other.  My body temperature was dropping and for the first time ever I really didn't know if I would make it to the finish line.  I was catching up to the half marathon walkers.  I could hardly weave my way in and out of them.  I had planned on the lead bike to get me through this section but it had disappeared with Cynthia.  The last four miles were the most miserable miles I have ever run.  I knew I was going to start getting passed as I kept slowing down. A few men passed me in the canyon and on the parkway.  I made the final turn onto Grant and there was a mile left to go.  I wanted to cry and was so scared I was going to collapse on the road.  I was running so slow that I was barely passing the half marathon walkers.  With two blocks to go Jasmine caught up to me.  I was really surprised she hadn't caught me earlier.  She tried to encourage me to stay with her but all I could get out is that I didn't know if I could even make it.  Somehow I managed to cross the finish line in 3rd place in 2:49:59.  Two years ago I was thrilled with a 3rd place finish in 2:55.  This year I ran over 5 minutes faster, finished in the same place and I cried.  And they weren't happy tears.

Jason was helping in the medical tent and waiting for me as I crossed the finish line.  I literally collapsed into his arms.  Of all the questions I've asked myself since then I've never questioned if I gave it everything I had Saturday.  There was simply nothing left when I got to the finish line.  I was so grateful that Jason was there waiting for me.  He understands better than anyone how I'm feeling and everything that I have poured into this race.  I have always managed to avoid the medical tent but I spent the next hour in there recovering from hypothermia.  I have never been so cold in my life.  It was a heartbreaking race for me.  I was frustrated with myself for making  a mistake that an experienced marathon runner should never make.  I cost myself 2nd place, not that it mattered because I didn't want 2nd any more than I wanted 3rd.  And I don't say that to take away from Jasmine.  She ran a much smarter race than I did Saturday and earned 2nd place.  I didn't.  But I do know that I lost several minutes off my finish time by pushing myself too hard early in the race.  I could have avoided a lot of the trouble I had at the end of the race if I had slowed down earlier.  Could I have caught Cynthia if I had run a smarter race?  Probably not.  She had an outstanding race.  It just wasn't my day.  I do know that I was in shape to run a much faster marathon than I did.  I'm a fiercely competitive person.  I think it suits me well most of the time and gives me the drive to achieve a lot of the things I have accomplished.  Yet it also means I am really hard on myself when I don't perform well.  I know I was capable of running a better race on Saturday.  There are a lot of what ifs.  What if the weather had been better?  What if I had run my race instead of following Cynthia?  I'll never know but I learned some valuable lessons the hard way.

I'm anxious to leave this race behind me but the soreness in my legs is a constant reminder.  I wish I could head out tomorrow and start training for the next race but I know my body needs time to recover.  I ran 18 miles really fast on Saturday and pushed myself through the next 8 when there was nothing left and that takes a toll.  So I'll rest of a bit. The sting of this race will fade over time.  I have the Olympic Trials to look forward to in February. Hopefully this has made me a wiser and better runner.

A Perfect Day in Chicago!

"Some things take longer than we want to achieve or accomplish, but just because they don’t happen in your time, doesn’t mean they will never happen. Never give up on your dreams, but also never give up working to make your dream become a reality." Meb Keflezighi

A year ago I ran a fantastic race at the St. George Marathon.  I ran a nine minute PR in 2:46:13.  It was a huge accomplishment and part of me thought I would never run that fast again.  Conditions were perfect with cool temperatures, a downhill course, and a strong tailwind.  Yet there was something else inside of me that was shouting that if I could just drop a little more than three minutes off that time I would qualify for the US Olympic Marathon Trials.  If I had run a 2:46 a few years earlier the race at St George would have qualified me, but the standards had been tightened.  Not only had the qualifying time been lowered to 2:43:00 but downhill courses were no longer qualifying courses.  I'd have to do it on a flat course, something I'd never even tried before since most Utah race courses go down a canyon.  Yet the opportunity of running in a race at that level was something I had always dreamed of.  I always felt like I ended my high school and college careers unfulfilled with potential I had never reached.  I'll be 38 by the time the trials take place.  My fast running days are numbered but this was one last chance.

Along with my own doubts, I had others who thought I couldn't do it.  St. George is too fast, I was told.  I'd never run that fast on a flat course.  I knew that in spite of my own doubts and those of others, there was really only one opinion that mattered to me.  That was the opinion of my coach, Paul Pilkington.  I knew he'd be honest with me and that he'd know if I had what it took to reach that kind of elite level. Because of that I was scared to ask.  When I finally got brave enough to ask his excitement was contagious.  He didn't tell me he thought I'd do it, but he thought it was worth a try and that was all the encouragement I needed.  And I knew one thing, if I never attempted it I would always wonder if I could have done it.  Even if I failed I would be glad I tried.  I didn't want to spend the rest of my life wondering, what if?

Before I could even get the next question out of my mouth, "Which race?" Paul was answering.  Chicago.   It was flat, low elevation and a lot of fast runners to push me.  So suddenly I scrapped all my other racing plans for the year and focused on what would have to be a perfect race in October.  I increased my mileage and started running twice a lot of days.  Running seemed to be taking over my summer but if I was going to go for this goal I was going to give it 100%.  I didn't race a lot but from the few races I ran I knew I was in the best shape I'd ever been in.  There wasn't a better time for me to try.  In the weeks before the race I started to realize how badly I really wanted this opportunity to run at the trials.  It was more than anything I've ever wanted in my athletic career.  I thought back to other things I had wanted so much: a top ten finish at state in high school, an individual conference championship in college that I was favored to win, a chance to compete in nationals and how I had cracked under the pressure each time.  Could I handle the pressure this time without breaking down?  As race day approached I worried about the things I couldn't control.  What if I got sick and was the weather going to cooperate?  I studied pace charts even though I knew exactly what I needed to do.  In the days leading up to the race I found myself panicking wondering if I could really hold a 6:13/mile (or faster) pace for 26.2 miles.  I had never pushed myself to this level before and I had no idea how it was going to feel.  The only thing I knew was that I was going for it. I would go out at that pace and hold on as long as I could.  The game plan was run as even of a pace as I could.  Coach gave me a three second window to try to keep my mile pace in.  I needed to hit the halfway point in a low 1:21 to finish somewhere in the 2:42s.  The only question was, could I find that pace and how long could I run it?

The night before was a restless night sleep with butterflies in my stomach.  By 3 a.m. I was up eating breakfast because I couldn't sleep.  I managed to drift off to sleep for a bit longer before it was time to get up.  I had a short walk from our hotel to Grant Park where the race started.  The temperature was perfect for running, 46 degrees and it was only expected to get into the low 50s by the end of the race.  But as I walked out of the hotel I was greeted by a strong wind hitting me in the face.  I would have to deal with 10-15 mile per hour winds.  Chicago is a world record eligible course, meaning it's a loop course that finishes near the start.  This prevents a tailwind the whole way.  For every mile with the wind at our backs we'd have a mile running into it.  I actually said out loud, I can't run a 2:42 in this wind!  I tried to get rid of my negative thoughts.  I'd have to find someone a little taller than me to run behind.  I wasn't going to use any excuses.  I just had to run my pace.

After fighting with the crowds (45,000 people) trying to get through security into Grant Park, I was able to get away from all the people to the American Development tent.  The Chicago Marathon offered this program where we were able to receive a lot of the benefits the elite runners, such as a separate warm up area and bag check and we got to start right behind the elite runners. I found a friend, Rosy Lee, who was also running and started warming up right next to the elite runners.  I was in awe to be running right next to Rita Jeptoo (winner of this year, and last year's Chicago Marathon as well as the last two Boston Marathons.)  This was my first marathon that didn't require a bus ride to the start and I really liked just warming up, checking my bag and heading to the starting line. Shortly after the American Development group was escorted in we stood back as the elites came in, were introduced and listened to the national anthem.  Rosy and I were about 10 feet back from the starting line and it was fun to be so close to front at a big race.  We had to get out quick because unlike most big races that give chip time (your time doesn't start until you cross the starting line) the American Development Program and Olympic Trials would only take gun time.  My time started when the air horn went off.

It only took a few seconds to get across the starting line.  Rosy and I were shooting for the same pace and working together.  We started heading north and the wind was at our backs.  Our first mile split was a 6:17.  It was a few seconds off but I figured since we lost a few seconds at the start we were right where we wanted to be.  Mile two was 6:11.  Perfect.  There were a lot of runners but not so many that we couldn't keep the pace we wanted.  Starting up front made a huge difference with having enough space to run the pace I needed and take the shorter path around the turns (and there are a lot of them in Chicago.)  The first few miles winds through downtown and the streets were full of people cheering us on.  The excitement made this fast pace seem easy and I made an effort not to speed up with the energy of the crowd.  Jason was at the three mile mark to cheer me on and we turned north again to head away from downtown.  The next few miles the wind was at our backs and we went a little quicker than I had planned.  I didn't want any miles faster than 6:10 but some of these were around 6:05.  I needed to save energy for later in the race but the wind was altering my plan a bit.  I knew we'd be turning into the wind in a few miles so maybe a few fast miles here was ok.  I loved the course!  Once we left downtown we ran through parks along the lake shore and neighborhoods where people were out with bands and loudspeakers to cheer us along.  A few miles into the race I noticed a few women that were staying right with us.  One of them said to me, "It looks like you are trying to do the same thing we are."  They were also trying to run an Olympic Trials Qualifying time and soon we had a good pack working together.  Unlike most races where I view other women as competitors I had decided the only thing I was racing against was the clock.  I was glad to have some other women to help us along.  Shortly after seven miles we made the turn I was worried about.  We were going to be headed back into the wind for the next several miles.  I was still slightly ahead of pace.  I found a tall guy and tucked in behind him to block some of the wind.  My goal now was to try to maintain my pace and not waste too much energy on the wind this early in the race.  This worked well for a few miles but I was starting to fall off pace a bit with a couple miles at 6:15.  At this point one of the ladies I was running with, I found out later her name was Sasha, made a move and picked up the pace a bit.  I hated to leave behind the guy I was drafting off of but I was scared that if I stayed behind him I would fall too far off the pace.  So I went with Sasha and had to take more of the wind myself.  But soon we were hitting mile splits just under 6:10 again.  I felt fantastic even with the wind in my face.  This was exactly how I had pictured this was going to feel but I knew I still had a lot of running left.

At the half way point we were back to down town.  Jason was waiting there again for me.  I had been afraid I wouldn't find him in the middle of the crowd but it turned out that I didn't have to worry about that.  He was yelling so loud I could hear him from 100 meters away!  We crossed the mats at halfway and I looked at the clock. 1:21:00!  I couldn't have run the first half more perfectly, even with the wind altering my pace.  I just hoped I could hold it.  Up to this point it had felt really good but by 13 miles in it was taking more effort.  My legs were starting to feel tired.  This was five minutes faster than I had ever come through the half marathon split before.  I knew I would really be testing myself the second half of the race to see if I could keep this pace.  But I remembered my plan.  I was just going to keep holding this pace as long as I could.  At the halfway point we finally had the wind at our backs again for a couple miles as we turned west.  There was a lot of enthusiasm in the big crowd along the streets of downtown.  Some of the ladies we were running with had dropped back but Rosy and Sasha were still right with me.  We were starting to pass a lot of people who had started out too fast and were slowing down.  It made it hard not to start speeding up especially with the wind at our backs.  We had some miles in the low six minutes and were having a harder time keeping a consistent pace.  There were a lot of turns in this portion of the course so the wind was making it difficult to keep the steady pace I wanted.  We were passing people quickly enough there wasn't anyone to draft off of.  As soon as we caught someone we passed them and couldn't stay behind them to take a break from the wind.

Before the race I had told Jason that 18 to 20 miles would be a critical point in the race.  By now I had been going at this pace for two hours but with several miles still to the finish I would need to dig deep.  Yes, my legs were tired but I still felt like I could keep this pace a while longer.  My average pace was still right where it needed to be.  We were still fighting the wind and headed south but I knew that the last few miles we would turn north back towards downtown and that the wind would push us to the finish.  I knew I was going to need that.

We turned onto Michigan Avenue with three miles to go.  Suddenly Rosy and Sasha had both dropped back and I was running alone.  My legs were killing me.  They were hurting so bad and it was so hard to just keep them moving.  All I could think about was that I just couldn't slow down.  I was pushing myself to a limit I never had before.  I was so close but I knew that the slightest mistake here could cost me everything I came here for.  Somehow I had to find a little bit left to make it to the finish.  With every clock, mile and kilometer marking I passed I was calculating in my head how long it would take to cover the remaining distance and if I would make it before the clock turned over to 2:43.  I was trying so hard not to slow down but I just couldn't seem to make my legs go any faster.  A couple times I started to panic and thought I had fallen off pace.  Besides my legs being dead tired I think my brain was having a hard time doing the math at this point.  I wasn't sure I had it until I got to the sign one mile to go.  Jason was there again and he was so excited to see me there still on pace. Another spectator shouted to me that I was in 21st place for the women and I should try to catch the one in front of me.  But all I could do was keep moving.  I had a little over seven minutes to run one mile and I would qualify for the Olympic Trials!

Soon I was passing the 800 meters to go sign and I still had over four minutes.  This was really going to happen!  And then I turned the final corner and had to go up the only hill in the race.  I had heard about this hill and laughed about how a little hill could be such a big deal but with 400 meters to go I honestly felt like I came to a stand still when I got to that hill.  All I had to do was get up that little hill and around the corner was the finish.  My legs burned; my lungs burned.  Really everything for the last three miles seemed like a blur.  I wasn't going to sprint to the finish if I was under 2:43, I told myself.  I just couldn't do it.  There was nothing left.  But then I turned the corner and saw the clock in the high 2:41s.  With every last bit of energy I could come up with I picked it up a bit to try to beat 2:42.  I didn't even know if I did it or not but later I found out my official finish time was 2:41:59.  I ran the second half of the race one second faster than the first.  My average mile pace was 6:11.  It was exactly as I had planned.  A medical volunteer grabbed on to me to keep me from collapsing after I crossed the finish. I was so excited but there was no one I knew around to celebrate with.  I kept glancing behind me hoping to see Rosy or Sasha coming in right behind.  I was so sad for them later to hear they had both just missed qualifying times by a few seconds.  But all I could think about is that I really did it.  All the countless hours of training had paid off in a way I had always dreamed but never experienced.

Meb Kefllezighi became a hero of mine this year when at just a few days before he turned 39 became the first American to win Boston in over 30 years.  A friend posted his quote a few weeks ago and it struck me how much I related to waiting so long to achieve your goals but never giving up on making them happen.  Going to the Olympic Trials for me fulfills years of hard work and goals that just never seemed to work out.  It was a long walk back to the tent to retrieve my gear but I had tears streaming down my face the whole way.  It really is a dream come true.

I finished 21st in the women's race with a field of over 18,000 and 3rd in my age group.  Although I went to Chicago with the intent of only racing the clock I was thrilled to finish that high in a major marathon.   It was a difficult decision for me to pursue this goal.  I knew it would take a lot of time, effort and money.  As a mom, I wasn't sure if I should really expect that much out of my family.  In the end it was a prayerful decision but I felt like the Lord had blessed me with this opportunity and the ability to do this.  There were so many people who helped make this dream come true. My husband and children have been so supportive of this journey.  They never complained that the house wasn't clean and the yard was let go a bit this summer.  Dinner was often late because I had to get another run in for the day.  Andrew and Jared spent countless hours babysitting while I trained.  Jason did many training runs with me and was the best fan I could ask for running all over Chicago to cheer for me.  My coach, Paul Pilkington, taught me to run at a level that a few years ago I didn't dream was possible.  His advise and training has been priceless.  There are so many running friends and training partners that have gotten me out of bed in the morning and spent hours on the road with me making the difficult workouts more enjoyable and sometimes even a bit easier.  I've had a lot of fun with my utahrunning.com team and appreciate the support of our sponsors, What Doctors Know, Nate Graven, and Tim Spleicher.

The night before the race I was reading Isaiah. "But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint."
Maybe I'm taking this scripture too literally but I know I was not alone on the streets of Chicago that day.

The night of the marathon I was completely exhausted and yet I lay in bed so excited I couldn't sleep.  I just kept replaying in my mind the events of the day.  I realized that in all my years of marathon running, as great as so many races have been, I have never felt like I had a perfect race before.  There has always been something I would like to go back and change, something I would do differently next time to maybe get a bit faster.  Chicago was completely different.  I finally felt like I had run the perfect race!  Everything went exactly the way I wanted to!  I am thrilled for the opportunity to run at the Olympic Trials.  It will be such a privilege to stand on the starting line with the best marathon runners in the country.  I am anxiously awaiting a trip to Los Angeles in February 2016 and anticipating what it has in store for me.

Boston Marathon 2014

Last year on the third Monday in April, Patriots' Day in Massachusetts,  I woke up wishing I was at the starting line for the Boston Marathon. Since I'd had a baby in 2012 I hadn't run a qualifying marathon so I would have to wait a year.  Little did I know the terror that would unfold that day in Boston.  I listened in horror to the news reports and phone calls I was receiving.  News of senseless acts of violence is always troubling but this one seemed so much more personal.  This was an attack on my sport and a race that I loved and was anxiously waiting to return to.  I worried about friends who were running the race.  I grieved with the people of Boston that a day which should have been one of celebration had turned darker than any of us could imagine.  My heart ached with the spectators, athletes and the city of Boston for those whose lives were changed forever that day.  Yet I knew immediately that I would be standing on the starting line in 2014.  There was no doubt in my mind that the world's greatest race would go on and I would continue to be a part of it.

Our family arrived in Boston Friday afternoon.  We had decided to bring the kids along this time to experience the thrill of the Boston Marathon and my mother-in-law came to help.  Everywhere we turned there were signs welcoming marathon runners to the city.  Boston Strong was plastered on road signs, store windows, sidewalks, and t-shirts everywhere we looked.  I think the only people more anxious than me for marathon day to arrive were the people of Boston.  We were treated as heroes walking the streets the days before the marathon in our jackets.  Waiting for dinner one night I felt a tap on shoulder, "Excuse me.  Are you running the marathon?"  When I answered yes, the man shook my hand and wished me luck.  The expanded field size (36,000 entrants as opposed to 27,000 in the past) made getting around the city with four children quite the experience.  Crowds of people were everywhere, waiting for dinner, at the expo, and especially on Boylston street trying to take pictures of the finish line.  Yet the masses were something we were all willing to put up with to be part of this historic race.  In spite of the inconvenience it seemed to add that much more anticipation to air as we awaited marathon day.

At the expo with our numbers- ready to go!

I had several people ask me why I wanted to run the marathon or if I was scared in the weeks leading up to the race.  A friend asked, if it was checked off my "bucket list" why go back?  Or if I have no chance of winning what is the point?  To me the Boston Marathon means so much more.  It is the spirit of overcoming difficulty to achieve something great.  Every runner there has a story of how they got there, many with much more inspiring stories than mine.  I've noticed both times I have run that at the end of the day no one, other than myself, cares how fast I ran.  The question is always simply, "Did you finish?"  Running the Boston Marathon is about the journey to get there and pushing yourself in a way that you never thought possible to achieve something great and that spirit lives in the hearts of over a million spectators that line the streets from Hopkinton to Boston.  And this year we were celebrating a city that had overcome so much in the past year to become greater than it ever had.

After some chilly days leading up to the race, marathon morning was sunny and beautiful.  It was Patriots' Day commemorating the start of the Revolutionary War in Lexington and Concord and the excitement in the air was almost tangible.  This was the day Boston was taking their race, their holiday and their city back.  We walked almost a mile to Boston Common at 6 a. m. and boarded a bus in the never ending line of school buses.   Even though the race didn't start until 10:00 it takes several hours to transport that many runners.  Since we were in the first wave we were some of the first runners to arrive at the athlete's village in Hopkinton.  We found a place in the sun on the grass to rest until it was time to head to the starting corrals. I laid down and pulled a blanket around myself to keep warm and imagined the perfect race.  Half an hour later I opened my eyes and thought I better make one last trip to the bathroom before we left the village and to my dismay the lines stretched all the way across the village.  It was hard to even walk with people sitting all over the grass.  I realized I would never get through the line in time so we headed to the exit instead hoping there would be some bathrooms closer to the start (and luckily there were.)  We had a three quarter mile walk to the starting corrals.  Jason figured with all the walking we would get close to 30 miles in for the day.  As we walked through the streets of Hopkinton the residents were all out on their front porches cheering us on before the race even started.  Some even had tables set up with sunscreen, Vaseline, water, and any other last minute things we might need.  We left all our sweats in piles of clothing being donated to charity since with the security measures this year there was no baggage check at the start.  I realized the temperature was warming up quickly and we were quite comfortable with only our tank top and shorts: not a good sign with 26 miles ahead.

Jason was assigned to corral one and I was in two based on our qualifying times.  I convinced him he should move back to two and start with me.  Based on the way our training had been going I thought we could run close to the same time and wanted to run at least part of the race with him.  After the star spangled banner, a flyover of military helicopters and an introduction of the men's elite field (the elite women had started half an hour earlier) it was time to start.  With 1,000 runners ahead of us in corral one it took us a full minute to reach the starting line.  We were running but it was difficult to control the pace.  The road was so packed with runners that the only choice was to run the pace everyone else was running.  The beginning of the race runs through more rural parts outside of Boston.  The towns were packed with spectators but in between the towns it was forested area and the only sound was thousands of footsteps hitting the pavement.  The road was filled with runners stretching in each direction as far as we could see and this was only the first wave of four to start.   I was afraid of losing Jason a couple times in the crowd but after a few miles it was spreading out just enough that we could keep our pace better.  We were running most of the miles in the 6:30s with a few downhill ones in the 6:20s.  I had put our names on the tank tops we were wearing and soon spectators in the towns were cheering for us by name.  The crowds didn't disappoint at all.  They were there in bigger numbers and louder than ever.  Kids were offering high fives, cups of water, popsicles and licorice.  Jason quickly noticed that every time we got to a town and the crowds were cheering loudly we would start to speed up.  We tried to be more mindful of our pace and not go too fast.  We were hitting all our 5K splits just a few seconds over 20 minutes, just where we wanted to be.  We knew we would need to save some energy for the hills in the second half.  We hit the halfway point at 1:26:12.  We were on pace to run in the low to mid 2:50s if we didn't slow down too much on the hills.  The temperature was getting hotter though.  We were taking a lot of water and the crowded water stops were slowing us down a bit but we had to stay hydrated.  As we moved into the second half of the race and closer to the city the throng of spectators just kept getting bigger.

Around mile 16 is where the Boston Marathon gets really tough.  That's where we hit the Newton hills.  While they may not be as big as some of the hills we run at home there are several significant climbs between mile 16 and 21 and it's late enough in the race that our muscles were getting tired.  We were both starting to hurt but knew we still had a long way to go.  I reminded Jason that everyone was feeling like we were at this point so let's just focus on one hill at a time.  We were able to keep our 5K splits around 21:30.  We had slowed down a little but that was expected.   It was really great to have each other to help through this tough part of the race.  The infamous heartbreak hill comes last  between miles 20 and 21.  If we can just get to the top, I kept thinking, we can just coast through the last five miles to the finish.  We arrived at the top together and I reached over and grabbed Jason's hand.  "We did it!  Let's go!" I said.  I was wanting to take off at this point but Jason was wanting to recover from the hills.  Jason told me to just go ahead of him.  At the time it felt like the right thing to do but later I regretted it.  Five downhill miles I was telling myself.  That's easy.  I took off and started passing other runners and Jason hung back a little trying to recover.  My plan worked great for a mile or two but suddenly with about three miles left I was running out of steam and I realized three miles was still a pretty good distance to go.  I'm not sure if it was the heat or just hitting the dreaded wall but I struggled through the last three miles.  Suddenly I wasn't passing anyone and I was just trying my best to keep up with the group around me.  It was hot.  It was the only warm day we had the entire week in Boston.  The temperature reached 68 degrees.  That might not seem too bad but in the spring when runners aren't used to the heat and with the later start time in Boston, it definitely became a factor in the race.  Meanwhile Jason had dropped back a bit.  At the 40K I had about a 30 second lead on him but he was wise enough to save a little for the end.

The crowds were amazing the last few miles to the finish.  They really carried me to the end.  I got to the last mile and was looking for my kids.  I was afraid I would miss them since both sides of the street were lined with people.  I knew I'd never hear them with the crowd so loud.  I turned the corner onto Hereford and was looking ahead to the next turn onto the final stretch on Boylston when I saw them, with cowbells and signs in hand, cheering as loudly as everyone else.  They had a great front row spot to watch and although they were on the wrong side of the street and it cost me an extra few steps I ran over to give them all high five. Then I turned onto Boylston street and with a little over 600 meters to go the finish line was in sight.  My body was totally done and it seemed like I would never get there but at the same time the feeling there was almost too much too describe. I didn't want it to be over.  The crowds in the grandstands were jubilant, enjoying this day of celebration the way it was meant to be.  Running down Boylston street I waved to the spectators with tears in my eyes.  I crossed the finish line in 2:55:22.  I turned around hoping Jason wasn't too far behind and saw he had crossed the finish line just a few seconds behind me.  He had a strong finish and almost caught up to me but through the crowd of runners neither of us had any idea we were that close or we would have crossed together.

I finished in 86th place in the women's race reaching both my goals of finishing in the top 100 and breaking three hours.  (The women's race was the biggest and fastest it's ever been with over 14,000 and a new course record as well as American record being set.)  It was 13 minutes faster than my previous time on the course.  Jason also beat his time on the course by five minutes.  It wasn't either of our fastest marathons, but I think it's the one I enjoyed the most.  A highlight of the day was finding out that Meb Keflezighi had become the first American to win the men's race since 1983.  I was slightly jealous that my kids got to see him win.  The excitement of an American finally winning Boston again just added to the festivity of the spectacular day.  What a great day for Boston!

I'm enjoying a little down time the last couple weeks as I've been recovering.  The trails I run on are gorgeous in the spring and it's a great time to just get out and run for fun without caring how fast I'm going.  Soon enough I'll be training hard again.  I'm running the Chicago Marathon in the fall with much loftier goals.  I'm hoping to break 2:43 and qualify for the 2016 Olympic Trials.  It's going to take a summer of intense training, even by my standards, and a perfect race in the fall for it to happen.  Yet, I feel like I'm so close that if I never try on a qualifying course I'll always wonder if I could have done it.  Boston taught me a lot.  Dreams really do come true and people can overcome the most tremendous obstacles if they just believe.