How Sweet It Is

After an inauspicious start to the race weekend that involved forgotten contact lenses (and a hurried eye exam here in Eugene to facilitate the purchase of more), diapers, wipes, stroller raincovers and more, the race itself went off without a hitch. Other than the rain. I woke up at 5:00 am this morning to a steady rain and thought, 'wouldn't it just be better to stay in bed?'. Instead, I showered, fueled myself and fretted over whether to wear a singlet or a Tshirt. Mainly, I wondered, 'what am I doing?'.

My first major race in 3 years and after a pregnancy, and I was nervous. Very nervous. I had set a goal of 3:25-3:30, but had no recent proof of what I was actually capable of. And my husband and daughter flew down here with me just for the race. He surprised me with matching T-shirts for himself and our daughter that said "Run, Mom, Run" so they could cheer from the sidelines. It all felt like a lot of hullabaloo, and I had performance anxiety.

It's generally not a good sign when you have to dig deep before the race even begins. A friend sent an email last night wishing me good luck today, and the words he quoted came to mind this morning as I questioned my sanity :

You have to wonder at times what you're doing out there. Over the years, I've given myself a thousand reasons to keep running, but it always comes back to where it started. It comes down to self-satisfaction and a sense of achievement. - Steve Prefontaine

Pre got me out the door this morning and on the road to a fantastic race. It began with gatorade and ibuprofen and a prayer for the guts to get to the finish line. So the marathon started, full of anticipation and nerves and a hundred bathroom breaks up until the gun went off. Every race I have run I am always in awe of the collective energy of thousands of people running together. I am moved that we would all get out of bed this morning and put on our running shoes and run our individual races alongside one another in solidarity. And so, off I went to create a part of the story of my daughter's life. All to tell her when she gets older that I did this for her. That it's possible. And qualified for Boston at the same time. And she was there to cheer me on.

A woman I have trained with all season, Nicole and I chatted and smiled our way through the first 31 km together. Our coach, Janice, came down to Eugene to support her runners and her smiling face at various points along the course kept me upbeat. Around the halfway mark, she called out to us, "Does it feel easy? It's supposed to feel easy at this point!" We were running faster than planned, and I was aware of the time-bomb this might be. I worried I could throw away all my hard work over the last four months all because we were running 5 seconds faster per kilometer. 5 measly seconds could ruin my race. But it did feel easy. In fact, it felt fantastic and I knew somewhere in my core that this was going to be my day. I wouldn't admit it out loud or even in a formed thought, but I felt it.

Thankfully, the gods that overlook running nutrition and hydration were smiling on me, and I kept my pace until the finish, even when it felt like twice the effort. The rain let up at some point (I don't really remember when), and I felt like I was cruising the course, feeling smooth. At 32 km I felt so good, I picked up the pace for about 5km, but had to ease up to my original pace for the last 3km. I forgot how hard the end can be; all kilometers are not created equal. That's why the race begins in the last 10 km of a marathon. As my coach tells me, anyone can run the first half of anything. It's the last half that really counts. And count it did. I must have repeated the mantra, "This is my race, today is my day" a thousand times in the last 3 kilometers, each time feeling the strength of the words drive my body forward.

By some miracle, I crossed the finish in a personal best of 3:23 and neither vomited nor passed out. I didn't even cry. I usually cry at the end of races because I find them so inspiring. I just felt elated and unbelievably satisfied. And fantastic. I'm not saying I'd run another one tomorrow, but what a difference physical and mental preparation made to my running.

And now I recover with a well-deserved glass of red in hand. I will raise that glass in thanks to Janice, Aric and Maya for getting me to the finish line.


My biggest cheerleader decked out in her custom T-shirt.

What is that thing?

My running partner Nicole and our coach, Janice.

Mile 26 "Run Run Run"




And Aric battles it out with the Pancake in the 5k. If you beat the pancake, you won 40lbs of pancake mix. Aric did beat one of the forks, though...