A Marathon Takes Dedication '15

Tomorrow is Nov 14. 
holy f*ck.  Tomorrow is Nov 14?

It is the day I have been waiting for FOR SIX MONTHS. I can't believe it took so long to get here, and yet, I cant believe it's tomorrow already.

Runners are athletes, and athletes are slave to rituals. So today I'll drink Lime NUUN and cranberry all day, I'll have tomato soup for lunch (generic brand, loaded with sodium) and I'll take a nap... Ok, so I already did that.

And tonight I'll eat dinner from the restaurant I always eat at the night before the race. I'll order the same boring meal and I'll pick at it until I feel full enough. I'll lay out my clothes and go to bed.

Rituals. 

I am a slave.

That said, I've never run a marathon without a dedication before, and I'm not going to start now.

I used to rattle off my dedication mile by mile, but that limits me to "about" 26.2 people, so I'm not doing that this time.

I dedicate this marathon to My Wives

T - because you're always here with wisdom, soothing words, and the gentle reminder of BadAssery. #AndAllthethingsUnsaid.

DeNiece - thanks for pushing me on these mid week runs for month after month. I would be a different runner without you beside me. #DamnYouMiriam

Ann - who's never run even a step with me.

SpeeDee - whether we run together or not, no matter where our feet take us, I love knowing you are out there on the same roads I run.

Giulia - just cos I love you babe.

I dedicate this marathon to The Support Crew

Gentlemen British- I don't even have words. If I could pick one I would choose "wholehearted", and hope that conveys all the gratitude I feel.

3R, TheProfessor, and the other GOTR -you guys are with me when I run, whether you know it or not. After all, my mantra to keep running when sh*t gets real is "Tom's tire. Beer."

Shanz - it's the little things in life. I sure am glad our paths crossed.

The rest of The Support Crew who encourage me, read my blog, send messages, inspire me, share your success and your failure, whether near or far, in "Chicago", WA, DC, MD, CA, FL, or three streets away - I love you - Thank You.

I dedicate this marathon to My Coaches.... Ah my lovely wonderful beautiful sexy coaches... I could never do any of this without you.

Karasmatic - the most beautiful coach ever, Thank you for hanging with me for nearly every Sportbackers MTT mile.... You made those miles fly! Thank you for pushing me, making me laugh, and inspiring me to believe in myself. I've never had as much fun at MTT as I did this year. #waiting #TPfromHeaven #Chafing. 

You are a rockstar.

Burch - mmm... Maybe just a simple "Thanks" for reminding me of why I do this the way I do. #TX

Coach Black - you're kinda like the Jedi Master... Or the Sith Lord, you choose. I hear your voice in my head when the miles get tough. And it sucks, but I run anyway. #YouPeople

Q - always on the side lines, and always appreciated. And no matter how much time passes- I love that we still finish each others sentences.

Harry Potter - Gah. Where to start? Maybe we have to go back to last December when you smacked me in the forehead for shelving my own dreams for someone else. Yes. That. Thank You. The handprint lasted all season, and I love you for it.

I dedicate this marathon to My Kids.. 

The three of you together are an unstoppable team with three different strengths combined. You always remind me that our combined efforts are better than our individual endeavors. 

B'nut- thanks for imagining I'm "The Best".

Gfly- thanks for reminding me that "there is no charge for awesomeness".

Charlie Foxtrot- thanks for tucking me in at night when I'm tired and cranky. 

And finally, I dedicate this marathon to The Big Dog... to you I am beyond grateful. I appreciate you, and all that you do for me. I love you. 

Aging Up

My birthday came and went. I celebrated 29 again, for those who wonder. This is getting a bit awkward given that my 15 year old is, in fact, 15. I’m not a person who gets morose about aging up a year, I am a beautiful woman in many respects, and so far I am aging as I expect. My mother is a beautiful woman, this gives me hope for my future. I do think about aging, as I think about health, as I think many badass mother runners must. But I don't fear "getting old".

Perhaps that's because I'm young still. Or perhaps it's because I trust my body?

Maybe it’s time to age up? 29 is a ridiculously fast BQ time, and not that I’m attempting a BQ any time soon, it’s still crazy to compare myself to those folks. Maybe I should just embrace my 39^th year as a 39 year old.

This is, as many of you know, The Year of The GBA 5K.

Which is why it’s only logical that I have signed up to run a marathon this fall.

Ummm... yeah. Well. #thathappened.

It’s my last year in my 30’s. I started running in my 30’s. And besides. The marathon and I always have unfinished business. Even when we don’t. There’s always room for discussion and improvement. Even when I meet my goals.

I want to run.

For some reason, I allow myself sometimes to get sucked into other people’s goals to the exclusion of mine. This year, I signed up to run this race alone. And by Alone I mean Alone with 1000 of my BFFs at Sports Backers Marathon Training Team. 

But truly, I am not training with my usual posse. The gang has all gone looking for their own goals. That isn’t to say there won’t be miles run together, but when the fall arrives, it’ll be me on the line.

I think this is good for me. The best races are the ones I remember that I have to run alone.

The marathon training team “group” starts running next week, and I’m looking forward to another year with my favorite coaches and runners. I’m going back to my origins, and rejoining the Green Team. I’ve missed my coaches, and wonder why I allowed myself to get so distracted last year. 

I try not to dwell on that.

I sat tonight with my friends ~  some who run and some who don’t  ~ and we discussed our fall plans, and I mused aloud that I had lost my fecking mind, and prolly I don’t even want to run a marathon in November.

Of course, they laughed at me, claiming I was talking nonsense, even as I shrugged off the moment with “don’t listen to “her”, that must be the wine talking. When I’m sober I feel certain that the marathon is something I love.”

Someone remind me of that in October.

But I seriously do love this sport. Even when I’m loving on my bike, I’m a runner at heart.

And so another birthday has come and gone, and it was a great birthday, celebrated with new friends and young friends and “old friends” who aren’t old. And even though another year has come and gone and my 30’s are 364 days from being a memory, I’m ready to enjoy and savor every single one of the 364 days.

Besides, nothing reminds me of my youth and vitality more than signing up to run 26.2. It’s like my “New Year” all over again.  I can’t picture a life without 20 mile training runs and the juicy hamburgers I celebrate the miles with after. OH! And the beer.

Can’t forget the beer.

Off the Cuff

We were silent at that particular moment.  Rare for us.  Usually when we run there is a stream of conversation that accompanies the steady cadence of our feet.  Maybe we were quiet because we were climbing, or maybe it was because we were enjoying the breathtaking views.  Riverside drive, just south of the James River, is one of the more beautiful and hilly runs you will find in RVA.  Tree limbs stretch over the road in a green canopy as it twists and curves and climbs and rolls like the river it parallels.

I guess we both realized we were listening to the runners ahead of us at the same time, because we both chuckled at something that was said, and I turned to T and said, "We've had that exact conversation."  She agreed.  The runners were stressing about pre-run fueling and recovery fueling and listening to them I'd have to say the one girl is probably starving herself unnecessarily.

What made me chuckle wasn't that she was starving herself, but instead it was that the topic these girls were obsessing over was a topic I have obsessed on, chewed on, rolled around, and rehashed.  I worried over it the way a child pulls the thread dangling from the hem of a sweater, picking and playing until the cuff is opened.  In this case, I finally concluded that running requires calories to prevent injury.  High protein calories are better than cake, but regardless, in my opinion if you run a pile of miles, you better be eating something.

photo credit - TMB

And we were running a pile of miles on Saturday.  T & I had overlapped our twenty miles this past week with Sportsbackers Marathon Training Team's Novice 10 miler.  It wasn't entirely planned, actually.  We just ran a few miles before MTT, and then followed "a route" until we met back up on the MTT route.  And when we got back to the stadium, we refilled our water bottles at the car, and kept running a completely on the fly route.  In fact, the entire run was constructed off the cuff, because we knew about how far certain roads would take us.

We finished 20 miles exactly where we started, without any intentional planning at all.  Certainly our on the run routing system included "There's water along here at X point if we need it", so we weren't running without attention to detail.  We were just enjoying a stress free - route free run.  I would guess that the less seasoned "me" would have never done that.  I would have planned until I was blue in the face, needlessly fretting around trivial details.

This week we were worry free.  The twenty miles vanished under our feet.  We ran negative splits, even with the hills of Bryant Park tossed in for the last miles.

Today I reflected that I am so glad that I am a more seasoned runner, and I know when, and when not, to stress about a training run.  The 20 we finished this weekend was completely relaxed, and color me not surprised, faster than I was anticipating running.  It goes to show that when you listen to your body instead of your worries, amazing things can happen.

~savor the run~

Intolerable Rudeness

I recently read a blog post about how people will tolerate bad behavior in the person they love because they love them, and that a true test of a healthy relationship is to say, "would I tolerate this language from my friend?"  I'm very fortunate to be in a loving relationship with a person who treats me with respect, and I never have to ask this question, however, I caught myself listening to a voice in my life the other day and wondering why I tolerate that negative language.

I ran a Half Marathon in just a sports bra and skirt last week.  It was 96% humidity and 88 degrees.  Needless to say, I wasn't the only person out on the course who was only half dressed, and I figured it was OK.  As I crossed the finish line, however, there were photographers snapping photos as we were draped in our medals, and I laughed and said, "Oh Lord, I won't be buying THAT photo.  That is a lot of squish for a finishers pic!"

Of course, I was laughing.  I actually think I look Ok.

But later I thought back and wondered why it was OK for me to be so rude to myself.  If someone - a friend - had said that to me, I would have been very sad.  When I realized that, it made me want to buy the picture and save it, knowing that there may be a time in my life when I will look back and think, "Hey, when I was 38, I was very fit."

So women, and men, reading this - please be kind to yourselves.  Appreciate that life is a process, and that just because we are so often always striving toward a bigger goal, it doesn't mean we should dismiss our current greatness.

I know I'm going to try harder to celebrate my current self.

Also, next to me happens to be one of
my favorite Nursing School professors.
We didn't run together, but she caught
me in the last mile.  Great job Prof W.

Today was a GOOD day

Yesterday I ran my long run for the week with Sports Backers Marathon Training Team.

HELLZ TO THE YEAH!  

I haven't RUN MTT in a long time.  Wow.  A long time.  I forgot how cool it feels to join a pack and run with 890 other like minded people.  I forgot how fun it is to listen to the people around you talk about running.  To see 100 familiar faces.  To search through a thousand and miss one.  To yell at Those People.

And yesterday I remembered what it feels like to borrow the collective energy of a thousand people to run through the streets.

I ran with TMB, SpeeDee, and Amy.  T & I share a brain.  We run in step.  If one of us pulls away, the other knows they'll be back.  If one of us walks, the other walks without comment usually because we are thankful to be walking for a few steps.  And there were a few walk breaks - thank god.

The air was thick yesterday.

We had some course discussions and such.  We made new friends... sort of...  In fact, some DUDE offered to give me ADVICE on cutting THIRTY MINUTES OFF MY MARATHON PR. (insert laughing here)
He said this without asking my current PR.
He said this knowing nothing about me or my running history.
Maybe I should have given him my number... I guess, I mean, after all, who wouldn't want to get a BQ in October... also, there will be a follow up post for the men folk who read this blog on "how not to pick up a runner at marathon training team".

Moving forward, I'm not 100% sure I'm convinced that my SATURDAY TEAM is the RIGHT TEAM for me, but I'm going to give it a try for a few weeks.  I intentionally chose a team that is training to race SLOWER than my original GOAL.

Why
would 
you 
do 
that?

Well.  When I decided to race a marathon in 2014 I didn't realize I wasn't going to get "better".  I had some idea that I was chasing a SUB 4:00 GOAL.  Right now I am chasing a FINISH WITHOUT HATING YOURSELF FOR RUNNING A MARATHON GOAL.

I don't know what I can and can't do with my lungs in this condition, and being left behind by the pack week after week while gasping for air is scary, disheartening and depressing.  Or is it defeating?  Regardless, I'm not going to be d'anything'd when I have the power to make new friends and run a touch slower on my long runs each week as needed.

Sometimes when you put 80 people who run in a group, everyone spends their long runs RACING each other.  I'm not even kidding.  I love MTT, but this is a truth of Marathon Training Team.  I chose my team because I have a prayer of keeping up with Team En Feugo, and I don't want to be sucking wind on my long runs trying catch up to people who are determined to leave me.  A slower team will ensure that I am running my long pace runs at a slower pace.

In theory.  Yesterday around mile 5 I had a break away where I maybe got a little ahead of myself.  whoops.  By mile 6 I was sad...

So yesterday I ran 9 miles on my road to my October marathon.  I struggled a little, but my chest never hurt.  It wasn't the best run ever, but it was a good run because it was with people I love.  It was "The Previously stated Goal" MRP + 50 seconds.  Not bad, considering the walk breaks sprinkled in.

Today I couldn't sleep.  I'm studying for boards and I woke up really early.  I thought, I know what to do with this energy.  I hopped in my car and headed downtown to meet the SUNDAY teams of MTT for 6 miles.

And here is why today was SO VERY VERY GOOD:
I ran hard, and didn't have any kind of breathing trauma or crisis afterwards.  NONE.  I didn't feel like I was straining beyond the stretch of a hard run.  I didn't feel like an asthmatic.  I didn't feel my airway collapsing or narrowing.

I felt like a runner!

I averaged an (insert pace here) for 6 miles!!!  I ran in the (insert pace here)'s for the first 3 miles with a fast friend, and then I backed off and ran the rest with a new friend, Not Clinton, who said, "Yay!  You can run with me next week!"  She was supportive, unbothered by my loud breathing, and likes dogs - which since I have a new puppy - works for me.  It was Original Goal MRP - 29 seconds.

Part of me is like, I can't wait for next week, to hop on the MTT train and ride the wave.  But the other part, the part that knows today was special, says, make sure you savor what it felt like today.

And I do.

~Savor the Run~

In a City of Runners sits an Oasis

RVA is a city of runners.

I see Runners everywhere. In fact, there has only been one time in my entire running life that I have run in RVA and not seen another runner. That was this year, on Christmas Day. I ran 4.98 miles, and it was the loneliest Christmas Day 8K ever.

That’s the one exception though. ‘Cos seriously, RVA RUNS.

Down in the city, along a historic tree lined street called Grove Ave, there sits a blue water cooler on a metal table. The round wire structure barely has room for the container and one small bowl. A shelf of Dixie cups is nestled underneath.

I’ve probably run past the legendary Grove Ave Water Stop 600 times in the last 5 years. I’m not sure how long it’s been there, to be honest. I never paid it much attention. But I suspect its been there a long, long time.

On my long run this week, I was once again reminded that a long run requires planning. For some reason, I forgot that detail. I never used to forget that detail.

I’m not much of a “GU” user. I rarely eat the Gummy Bears offered by Marathon Training Team. Mid-run Food is not my thing. But the morning of my 14 miler this week I did not eat enough breakfast. About a half a banana and a tbl of peanut butter was all I managed to ingest. I just wasn’t hungry.

So. About that....

 By mile 11 I was plodding along, a solid 3 miles from my car. My head was spinning a little, and I felt wonky. Definitely wonky, with a small dose of woozy creeping in. Not good things for the typical runner with 3 miles left to run. I turned onto Grove Ave, with the thought that I might be able to hit Starbucks and beg a packet of honey off them. With as much money as I spend in that Starbucks I thought “maybe”.

(Adam always has my coffee ready by the time I get to the front to pay...#itslikethat)

But about a block and half before the starbucks, I spotted The Grove Avenue Water Stop. And I thought, water might help. GAWS is advertised among runners as being open to the public, for the public runner. It’s like a little piece of runner mecca right here in RVA.

Still, I approached with trepidation, unsure of what I was going to find.

Well. I found clean cold water and a bowl of Clif Blocks.

Yes. Whole unopened packages of chews were waiting for the passing runner.

At first I hesitated. And then I thought about it and decided that if they didn’t want people to use them, they wouldn’t leave them here, AND that they’re runners, they would understand that I was in a pinch.

The nutrition made a huge difference for the finish of my run.

I got a little schmoopy as I ran away from the table about the fact that I live in a city of runners. Now, I don’t know that it SAVED MY LIFE. I can tell you, it saved my run.

This afternoon, I wrote to GAWS and thanked them on their Facebook Page. 

And next time I run, if I remember, I’ll drop an unopened package of Honey Stingers or Blocks in the bowl on the table for the next runner in a pinch.

'Cos RVA... yeah, we're a city of runners.

~savor the run~

MOJO Running Loose

I lost my mojo. Again.

It’s happened before, so I know I will find it.  Eventually.  The thing is, it’s never really where I found it last time.  Once I found it in a book.  One time I found it in a pair of shoes.  Oh, then there was that time that I found it in the e-mail that read, “Sportsbackers Marathon Training Team Registration Confirmation”.

SO I’m out here pounding the pavement, looking and looking.  Barely hanging on in some respects because without mojo, you have to do a lot of mental work to keep forward momentum. 

I kept thinking that this time I’m going to find it in my Brooks, on my bike as I'm out riding with The Ladies of the Lanes, or in a blank Word document.  Odd how Word has the ability to wipe my mind completely clean of all inspiration and thought...

I’m pretty sure I’m not going to find it in my SPEEDO, because even though SPEEDO and MOJO look a lot alike in the ‘words that make sense to no one’ department, most people would agree that finding extra anything in a speedo is kind of difficult, or even disappointing, for the average swimmer.  And then there’s the point that I’m certainly not looking at anyone else’s speedo for my mojo... there’s a fail just waiting to happen....

I thought I MIGHT have found my MOJO a few weeks ago running loose on the streets of Richmond.  It was an early morning MTT run, and we passed a woman in platform stiletto heels on the corner saying, “Here ‘tis.  Here ‘tis!”.  Upon closer inspection of the situation I determined it wasn’t my mojo she was advertising.

So, I kept pushing on without it.  And Tuesday night, I had a breakthrough.  A  development that is making me wonder if this time I will find it in my grocery store.

True story. 

See, I had a glimmer of my mojo the other night on a hard effort bike ride.  There’s a hill on the route we took that freaking scares me.  Not the down part.  I mean, yes its steep but I’m not afraid of the drop.  That I can control.  I can choose my speed of descent.  My rate, my pace, and my position are my choice. 

No... what scares me on that hill is the climb.  What if I fail?

So, on Tuesday I dropped to the back of the pack and was patient.  And then when I felt the balance was right, I took a risk and attacked the hill.  I realized on the way up that I was riding completely free of fear.  I trusted my bike, my legs, and my ability to handle myself... 

Aha!  MOJO!

And the only thing I really changed on Tuesday was that I ate a calorie dense high protein high carb meal around midday with Biolabud.  It was a ridiculous amount of food, but I was starving.  And I felt great afterwards.  The midday beer might have helped my mood too.

Huh.  I have to wonder...

What if I went back to eating like an elite athlete, instead of eating like a girl-scout cookie ingredient list?  

Could my mojo be found in a proper amount of protein?  

Possibly my mojo is searching for a better carb balance?  

Regardless, the MOJO is gone again.  

I know because I was wimpy, whining, complaining and somewhat b*tchy by the end of my Wednesday morning ride.  It’ll come back eventually.  I’ll find it.

In the mean time, I’m off to the grocery store for some eggs, whole grains and produce.  Because even if the MOJO isn’t in the food, I’m still ravished and need to find a way to fuel myself responsibly.  Like the athlete I am.

~savor the Mojo~

Uniform Rules

Dear "Those People",

Please accept my sincere apologies for not properly calling "You People" out when I passed you while I was running a few weeks ago.

I consider myself a SHINING example of the ART of using proper run etiquette.  For me to have missed an opportunity to call You People out in a loud early morning mock-up of good cheer is very unlike me.  very.

I can appreciate that it must have been devastating for You People.

Please allow me to recommend a good Therapist to help you overcome the rejection.

And, not to make excuses, but I think I know the source of the problem....

Have you ever run into someone you run with, near, or past at a social event and not recognized them?  It happens to me all the time.

When I run, I wear outfits that look like this....

or

this....

and because my uniform is so well known, my fans friends are able to find me in a crowd.

But when people run into me wearing "real clothes", they don't usually know what to think.  Occasionally they've been known to walk right past me without even saying "hello".

Well, "Those People", when "Us People" ran past you the other day, you looked like a group of runners who were familiar but unknown to me.  So I believe I gave the standard low key 3/4 wave and nod, but I guess "You People" didn't see it....

The problem being, when you're The Richmond Elites known for running around RVA in black shorts and running shoes and nothing else, you're completely unrecognizable wearing clothing....

(Huh, that sounded so much less interesting in my head...)

Bray modeling the new
threads

I mean seriously, if This Reflective Person had run into me on the street I'm pretty sure I would have never recognized him, despite the fact that he's mocked me on too many occasions to count...


because now that the weather has turned, he's wearing a shirt....  

So I don't want to make excuses for my etiquette fail, because I usually wave at all runners.  I will do my best to modify my behavior.  And, to be clear, I appreciate the efforts You People have gone through to ensure that You will not be denied a GBA_gf greeting with the adoption of your new Uniform.

Of course, I fully recognize that You People were so inspired by my Dress Code Rules that you selected an appropriate and ~epic~ Uniform of your own.

In the mean time, again, please accept my very sincere apologies.

I promise, you will not escape unnoticed again.

and yes, the
new uniform rules.

regards,
gba_gf

(yeah, I know.  That last sentence reads like a little like a threat...)

And Then What Happened....

Richmond Marathon Race Report 2011

Slept in a hotel down town with Pixie Green the night before my race (scantily clad pillow fights aside, I slept really well...).  I woke up early and walked to the meet point.  I had connected with a runner on the SunTrust Marathon Facebook Page who needed someone to please pick up his packet.  5 emails and three weeks later, I handed him his race packet on the steps of SunTrust Bank.

I got some pre-race love from SpeeDee.  Connected with the posse.  And got a hug from Coach Black that made me feel down right warm.  At this point, I was pretty sure that TODAY WAS MY DAY. I had a goal, a back up goal, and a basket goal.

In the start corral there was snuggling, it was cozy, Jess & Jodi joined the fun, and we all saw DeNiece “off to find her group”.  It was the last time I would see DeNiece until we finished, and as she walked away I thought – go get it Denise.  Go get that BQ.

Miles 1 – 5 Karasmatic & Q, 3L & KC, & I had way too much fun talking about… well, NOT talking about Lickable Abs, Cycling, and other random sh*t.  There was hazing, razzing, and general love in the air.  I felt PERFECT.  I am certain I drank at least 8 oz. of water in the first 6 miles.  Stingers on schedule.  I felt great, and when it was time to decide on my pace for the next 6 miles, I decided to go for the UBER goal pace.  It wasn't blistering, I run 8:50's all the time.

Saw the fam in the Party Zone at 6, cruised through to the hill at 10.  We held each other in check, I refilled my empty bottle.  There was something on the edge of my mind that wondered why my joints were achy at mile 10.  I brushed it back with a positive thought about not thinking negative thoughts.

Miles 10 – 12 Blair! The KING of Pink Nation. It was GREAT to see him, he has the most epic smile – but I admitted to him, I didn’t feel quite right at this point.  I couldn’t put my finger on the “why” of it.  I dropped back into a slightly more “easy” pace around a 9.  I wasn’t looking at my watch, just running on feel.

So then what happened?  Well, I GOT A HALF MARATHON PR – 1:56:48.

After the half mats I saw Cozy & 3L for the last time and I thought to myself – go get it girls.

Around 14 I had a bad moment where the entire world spun.  This is a distance I normally find pretty easy… so… I was weirded out.  I couldn’t walk a straight line & stumbled a few times.  My head came back to me, and I started jogging.  MTT Coach Val spotted me…  “I’m dizzy”… and so we started walking together.  She was so sweet.  “I had to stop 3 times at Chicago” ~ awe, thanks Val. 

I left her, and turned for the bridge.  I think I was running again, but maybe not.  Who knows, the entire run at this point became a play of "how long can you run before the world spins?" SpeeDee jumped in with me.  I told her that I was chomping down honey stingers and drinking, but something wasn’t on track. 

And then what happened?  “GBA_GF, WHY ARE YOU WALKING?”  And T and I connected again. 

I said, “Oh good, I was waiting for you.”  We left SpeeDee, and I thought, I’m with T now, I’m invincible.

MCM found me on the course at the junk food stop. I was going to refill my hand held.  Uh, that only works if you haven’t lost the lid… so I tossed my hand held away.  Along with my white Nike visor, which, was the enemy at that point.  Not sure why I thought that, but ~ what ev.  Runners are weird.

T, to be honest, I don't remember feeling as strong as we
look right here.

T & I made the turn onto Main Street together.

Oh, and remember that time we made running a marathon look easy?  Yeah, me too.

I gave T a salt pill, and she suddenly couldn’t hang.  Hindsight:  I should have walked with her then.  But I didn’t know how long until my next dizzy spell, so I was afraid to walk when my head was OK.  A bad decision that seemed sane in the moment.

I kept plugging forward until on Main Street at an intersection somewhere near the pastel houses, the Richmond Marathon course actually spun. 

Like, a 360. 

And so when it stopped spinning I was standing on the side of the course with my hands on my knees.  I stood up took two steps, staggered, and reached out as the course spun again.  My hand connected with something metal, the rusty paint bit into my fingers, and I held on for dear life.  I was on the sidewalk, holding a street sign.  When I lifted my head a cop in the intersection pointed at me.  I waved him off and gave him a thumbs up.

I was lying, but ~ runners are weird.

After a minute, I started walking again.  And then jogging again.  Connected with Karen.  And then El.  El gave me her drink & lots of advice.

I made the turn to Boulevard, and then, out of nowhere, Wine Not Whine was with me.  I don’t know how it happened or where she came from.  She ~ shoot I’m all teary thinking back on it ~ she says, “I’m feeling a little super hero formation here…”.  And then Pants Guy joined us for a few steps (Thanks Pants Guy).  So WnW and I made our way to the Party Zone and my head spun again.  I was so happy she looked so strong and amazing as she ran off… and I thought – go get it WnW.

Then I saw H, and said, “hey, it’s not my day.  Its going to take me a while to get there from here”.  I kissed my kids, ate ½ a banana, a salt pill & took a bottle of water.  Got some love from my BFF PAULIE!  (thanks Paulie) Something made me glance back here, and T had caught up.  I waited, we did a GU exchange and T and I, with our bottle of water in hand, set out to finish this race. 

“We’ve run this 100 times.”  Stadium to the Arch.  We saw Cherine (thanks Cherine) and then Illusive at a water stop; (thanks Illusive, you were great).  Into Bellevue, through the arch  (Yeah, Blair, I saw the sign… and Coach Black, was that the Black Team’s sign tacked onto the bottom?) and I let T go… and I thought to myself, “She can still get it… I SO hope she can get it". - go get it T.

I turned my watch screen so it only showed "time of day."  See, I had another spell that stopped me in my tracks and I thought, “Your race is over.  You’re now in survival.  Stop trying to kill yourself and be smart.”    

I walked a water stop keeping strictly to the shade, ate a stinger, and walked while I waited for the spinning to stop.  I started running again at a slow jog with the hopes that I could catch Young Stephanie (who I could see in the distance).  I thought, the sooner you finish, the sooner you can go to bed. 

My head ached.  My body ached.  I was sleepy.  I could not imagine why I felt this way, but I thought, “It’s a marathon, it’s supposed to hurt.”

I saw The White Rabbit on Brook Rd… and when the white rabbit took my hand and said, “com’on you’re running” I started running, and then I ran until Lombardy, AKA, The Lombardy Wind Tunnel.

El, Young Stephane, (me in the back), and Karasmatic

I don’t know if I was walking or running when I heard my BiolaBud (I pretty much love you) with yet ANOTHER Stephanie on the course inviting me to join them.  We picked up some random runners, and ran together past the Lululemon corner!  (Cheers to you all, you really know how spectate runners).  And then we caught Young Stephanie and gathered her into the fold, and I was determined we were going finish this together.

Chronologically things are a bit blurry.  It was running punctuated by world spinning.  

I looked down Grace and saw a pair of Viking horns. I thought, “oh, I’ve really disappointed Q.”  (hey, we’re honest here on the blog).  I heard his voice all the way down the street, “I thought I’d missed someone!”  He ran back to me and fell in beside me to run with me…  “What happened?”  Not accusatory, more... curiosity.

“Well.  It wasn’t my day. I got dizzy, and walked through the dizzy parts…  I think that added a lot time to my run today.”

He looked/sounded a bit shocked.  “Well, I think it probably subtracted a lot of time from your hospital stay…” I laughed as he continued, “so yeah.  If you run through dizziness they get to scrape you off the ground.”

We chatted a minute and he left me in the capable hands of beautiful Karasmatic! Young Stephanie, Karasmatic, El & I made our way in SUPER HERO FORMATION down the street.

Southern Comfort joined us and I realized:  Today wasn’t my day, but THIS was how it was meant to be.  

I was running in with my posse, I was with 2 of my favorite coaches. We were laughing about my disastrous marathon.  We were laughing, and I can prove it.  (Photo credit to Kty J) 

 

And then what happened?  I made peace with my day at mile 26.  It wasn’t my day.  But it was a great day for a run.  And well, we all know how much I love my run.

I have a saying I came up with a few years ago…

“When something goes wrong in a marathon, it doesn't go wrong by 2 minutes.  It goes wrong by 26+ minutes.”

Well I missed my goal by 26+ minutes.

10K 55:57

Half 1:56:48

20 mile split 3:09:57

Chip Time 4:26:19

At the finish, when I connected to H, my son G was laying on the sidewalk “spectating”.  He was asleep in a sunny patch.  Turns out G was pretty sick all day.  

And late last night, after the race, I joined The Vom- Squad complete with fever, chills, & body aches.  So there’s an explanation as to why it wasn’t my day, or an excuse, however you want to look at it.

meddling kids

In 1969 Hanna-Barbera premiered what would become one of my all time favorite TV shows, Scooby Doo.


I idolized the characters, loving how smart they were, and as a small child, was always impressed at how the BIG REVEAL went down at the conclusion of every show.  And I would have gotten away with it too if it wasn't for you meddling kids.  My phases of adoration went through the series characters, from Scooby, of course, to Daphne because of her awesome clothing choices, and onto Velma because she was so super smart...  I was never a fan of Fred and Shaggy until the live action film made in 2002.

running a marathon feels a lot like this...

Some of my favorite episodes still air once in a while on Boomarang and Cartoon Network, and it's funny (sick) how often I see the show and remember exactly what/how it ends.  One thing that always got me was the color choices on the clothing for the characters.  Those colors were....fab.


I always feel, when I'm out running, that I'm a bit like Velma.  I mean, seriously, look at her.  


And then, look at me.


Every year our clothing choice for MTT is made for us.  We wear a matching Team Uniform.  It's technical fabric, light weight, and printed with the Sports Backers Marathon Training Team logo on the front.  1200 of us run in these identical shirts so that the 100 coaches (give or take) who line the course on race day will recognize us and help us out as needed.  


The shirts are always bright.  The one year they chose a "normal" primary color (blue) apparently it was a ~fail~.  Since then The Man has always selected horrific wonderful unique colors like:


Virginia Tech is better than the other one Orange - Listen, all I'm saying is that if you look at the orange, it's more Hokie than Hoo.


Sea Foam (or is that Sea Sick?) Green - an odd minty shade that definitely had a touch of sea-foam mixed with a bit of "under the weather" and a touch of SNOT.


It's all Sunshine and Daisies Here Yellow - Your'in good company with yellow (this was the color last year, it was great, I actually didn't hate it).


and this year,


CREST TOOTHPASTE GREEN... a color that isn't made in nature.


As soon as I saw it I thought... if Daphne ever raced a marathon, this would be her color choice.... but what would she wear with it....?  Duh, purple.  And then Velma would argue the merits of wearing Tall Socks, and Daphne would agree.... and the next thing you know, Daphne's race day marathon outfit would look exactly like mine.


Toothpaste & Berries.


I didn't like the way the top fit, so I altered it with a small gather in the bust.


The skirt is Lululemon - there's another story with that, but I'll tell you about it after the race.


The tall socks are Running Skirts "Run Love" compression socks, because let's face it....  I love socks almost as much as I love my run.

So there you go.  


I am channeling Daphne from Scooby Doo.


well, either that, or I'm channeling the Mystery Machine.  


...I really think it could go either way.


And seriously, no matter how you look at it, I should be visible in race day... which will make stalking me easier.


Or, if you're stalking online, it won't matter what I'm wearing.... my race # is 2297.