Barkley Fall Classic: Hot Dirty Bloody Good Time

The Invitation

 I am standing, well not actually standing.  I am on all fours.  My face is covered in dirt, snot, a little blood and possibly a few tears.  At that point I can't sort out where the dirt and sweat ends and the rest of me begins. "Hello Rat Jaw.  Nice to meet you."

It was a mere 3 1/2 weeks before when I received my "rat jaw" invitation to Barclay Fall Classic.  They call this race a baby Barkley and while I know it comes nowhere close to an actual Barkley this thing is no baby.  It's a pubescent little bitch of a teenager-loving you one minute and sadistically turning on you the next. 

Even as I pulled into the packet pickup and looked around me at all the seasoned ultrarunners I was getting that whole feeling of "one of these things is not like the others" and I was that thing.  A few things about me.  I've completed my share of 50ks, a 50 miler but I'm generally in it for the good time. I'm the girl saying hi to everyone and taking pictures.  I'm 55, which really isn't that old for a trail runner,  but I'm also not great at technical trails.  Or running fast down technical trails.  I'm also hopeless with directions.  I have on more than one occasion had to have help to find my way out of a doctor's office.   I know however, I am not without strengths. 1. I can’t say no to any adventure that ends with a story. 2. I ask loads of questions and can make friends just about anywhere. 3. I don’t mind a power climb. Thinking of this I told myself all I had to do was show up at the start line. That would be a success.

Packet Pick Up

I sit down and start to ‘study the map”--mostly looking around for anyone to tell me what I’m looking at. I find others doing the same and we collaborate. There was no chance I would make the 50k. There was little chance of a marathon finish. I just wanted a chance to try the good stuff. Studying the map and seeing it frontloaded with Chimny, Rat, Meth and Testicle I knew I was going to get at least a taste (at that point I’m clearly too stupid to realize what I’m asking for). I prayed I did not have to use the compass I had not figured out how to work.

Another good thing happens at my dinner table. Laz shows up with his plate of food to sit beside me. I am starstruck meeting the legend and his wife, who seemed pretty badass herself.

I then reach over and shake the hand of the guy across the table. “Hi, I’m Wendy.” “Hi, I”m John.” “Pleased to meet you John.” Laz asks me if I know which John it is and then I realize it’s that John. John Kelly. I have soo many questions I want to ask him. Instead I just mostly listen to the conversation and wish I had something cool to say. “The chicken tetrazzini is good.” is all I came up with.

Bedtime 

Before I go to bed I fill my water bottles and place them in the freezer. I put my keys in the freezer beside them. This is so I can’t leave my water bottles. Old ADHD trick of mine. Then I realize I don’t have my bibs. I have left them on the race registration table. Oh ADHD. I call that a tomorrow problem. Before sleeping I pull out the park map and make a list of which colors of trails match the map we’ve been given, praying that I’m never so lost the next day that I have to use that knowledge (spoiler: i did have to use the knowledge).

A few short hours of sleep later I’m up and out the door, water bottles in hand and make it to the registration table where they have found my bibs. I attach them (later I will realize I put the one that was supposed to go on the front on the back because you know…let’s just always make it a little more complicated.)

I find my friend Andrea at the start and we move to the back of the pack. I have been told not to start back there because you don’t want to get stuck in the conga line but there is no way I'm putting myself in front of most of these people, only to have to hear a humbling "on your left" for the next hour.

Let's Get the Party Started

Cigarette is lit. Off we go…until we aren’t. The conga line gets stopped as people work their way on to the single track trail. My “training” for this was a few weeks of 20 mile runs, a .4 hill climb repeat at the trail by the university I teach and some backpacking. What I quickly realize is the most useful thing I’ve done is the backpacking. Especially because my pack weighs at least 15 lbs as I felt compelled to bring all my nutrition, including Popeyes mashed potatoes with cajun sparkle and four lbs of water.

We make it up Chimney, we get to the firetower where some sweet high school football player has to help me swap my dirty sweaty bibs around. “Maam, I think you picked the wrong guy for this because my fingers don’t have dexterity. I can’t feel things.”

Photo Cred: Misty Dawn Photography

At that point I was having so much fun. It was a run party, if there was a run party on a desert because it was also getting hell hot. Then it was time to go down Rat. I didn’t realize that one of my biggest strengths for the race was a simple one. I don’t care about my dignity. Quickly I went down on my butt and started sliding down every spot I could. I was loving it. It was helping me make time. I was already bleeding and bruised and the whole thing felt sketch but It was great. Insane, but great.

Then I heard someone say, “you know, they always talk about Rat Jaw but they never really explain that Meth Lab and Testicle are just as hard.” Hmmmm…yeah…maybe i didn’t get enough of that memo.

Meth Lab and Testicle where it all gets real...

The carnage. The run party suddenly looked like Vietnam. So many bloody bodies in the briars curled up in fetal positions. People just sitting in the middle of the trail staring straight ahead, realizing all the wrong choices they had made in their training. I just felt like everyone had the same collective thought, “how the hell can this climb keep going? “

Photo Cred: Jenny El Tee Photography

I kept looking down at my leather gloves. I had written on one “DON”T STOP” and on the other “DON”T CRY” and put little smiley faces on all those fingers. I looked at those gloves a lot, willing myself to do just what they said.

I can’t tell you the mind screw that it is to be sliding and crawling down for a hell’s eternity, knowing you are going to somehow have to find the way back up.When i run hills I have a mental game I play on hills where I tell myself you only have to run 30 right steps and then you can walk. I tried that. It eventually became 10 right steps (to be fair I was crawling) and then 7 right steps. I mean, how far can power line climbs even go? This seemed like some jacked up physics.

There Was A Top

Eventually, though, I hit the top. In running there are few things I’ve been more proud of than finishing that climb.

Back to the prison (No one seemed to want to leave that tunnel and head out to be baked again).

Up and over the ladder. The sun was baking the prison grounds and what should have been a fast easy run on roads wasn’t.

Soon though, it was time for Bird Mountain. And that’s when things started changing for me. Someone told me Bird was 17 switchbacks. Bring it. I found some sticks for poles and started power climbing and as I did I could feel myself getting stronger. I heard someone say that we would absolutely make it to the marathon finish, which I assumed was an improbability for me. But then, there were runnable trails and at that point I was ready to run. I made up a whole lot of ground on Bird. Later, looking back at my last splits I realized I was able to get ahead of people who had been an hour or more in front of me. There was some part of my brain at that point that was saying "see, you do belong out here. You may not get a croix today but you are earning your keep."

Goodness that finish line was sweet. I had 13 hours and 20 minutes to make a marathon finish. I finished in 11 hours and 6 minutes with the biggest damn smile on my face.

So How Was It?

It’s everything they say that it is. It’s more. It’s the unknown of what you can do out there. It’s the briar scratches and the rock bruises. It’s every person you get to share that course with, the ones you tell to “keep moving” and the ones that tell you “you’ve got this.” It’s finding out you are stronger than you think you are.

Photo Cred: Jenny El Tee Photography

And spoiler alert: I'm already registered for next year.

How to earn $100 the Hard Way

Preface:  Before I go any further, I should tell you to check out my  friend Allie's race report.  It's awesome and tells a lot more of the specifics about the race, the course and our quest to beat the time limits.  


I actually can't remember the moment I decided to attempt the Georgia Jewel 50 mile trail race.  It likely was after a beer or two..but truth is...when it comes to friends mentioning adventures, races, or parties... I'm easy.  And Georgia Jewel seemed like it would be all three--adventure, race and a party.  So when my friend Allison mentioned she might be doing it I signed up in a hot second without one consideration of well...anything.  

Because when it comes to signing up for 50 mile trail races there are a few things i might have wanted to consider:

1.  I MIGHT have wanted to consider that if you run a race in September, you TRAIN for the race in June,  July and August.
2.  I MIGHT have wanted to consider looking at a map.  Of the course. Or of Georgia.  Where I would have seen ALL THE HILLS...because somehow my logic of "hmm..if I am ever going to attempt a 50 mile race on trails I should do it in Georgia because I think that state's pretty flat" did not prove to go as I predicted.
3.  I MIGHT have wanted to consider the outcome of the only other trail ultra marathon I've ever run when I BARELY made the cutoff for the 31 miles of that course to finish it and was trying to get my knee to work for  most of the race and was saying all the curse words.  Or just the same curse word over and over.

But of course, I just did what I do..signed up.  And didn't think about it.

I mean, I thought about it.  I thought about it later...when it was July and hell hot and humid on the trails and I was slogging my way along reconsidering every decision I ever made about anything in this world.  I thought about it later when I actually looked at the race course and heard people talk about it being a "challenging course."  I thought about it later when my knee and calf were taking turns hating me for signing them up for anything.

I thought about it after the gagillionth trail tumble in training.

The training: Or how I spent my summer vacation

Allie and I would work our way through summer, training for this race and second guessing our decision.  Other friends had also signed up, some for the 50, others for the 35 and 18 miler, but the demands of real life and training meant we lost several along the way (this makes it sound like they died...it actually means they dropped the race).  Others stayed in but they are faster than me so it meant it was Allie and me doing many of our long training runs together.   

The training probably deserves its own blog because training for a race with someone bonds you in a way that is indescribable.  After you  have asked someone to smell you and tell you how bad you smell, or after you watch them puke up the pickles you just offered them or after they wait for you to get up from where you sat down in the middle of the trail unwilling to move you are trail sisters for life.

IM Not Freaking Out (I’m totally Freaking Out)

If you have followed me through other race blogs you know I tend to "race panic."  Just awhile before the race I start to overread/overstudy/overanalyze/overfreak about everything to do with the race.  Did I mention I'm also an audible processor (I know, big surprise given the brevity of my my posts😉) so I'm sorry to anyone who had to listen to me do all this ahead of time.  I really tried to NOT do this with the Jewel. And I seemed to manage myself pretty well..until I wasn't.  That moment came when a few weeks before the race Allie told me she was dropping and was not running the race.  I should probably mention that she had decided this after one of those hellhotpukeruns, but I was already trying to picture how I was getting through 50 solo.  I was crazy glad a week later when she messaged me to say she was back in.

Pre-Race and Mind Games

$100.
That was my race fee for the Georgia Jewel.  I know this because shortly before running this 50 MILE TRAIL RACE I knew I had to come up with some strategy out on that course to count down the miles.  I decided that for every mile I ran, I could earn back $2 and my goal was to get all my $100 back.   I didn't know at the time what it would take to earn those dollars.The day before the race was a fun chance to get to drive down with Allie and Andrea, who was running the 35 miler.  Lunch at Mountain Goat

Im still thinking about that coffee I had at Mountain Goat.  Delicious.

packet pickup, pre race dinner and last minute trip to get nutrition (because you should always buy new nutrition items the night before the race😏).   I got to my hotel room, laid out all  the things (it's hella lotta stuff to run 50 miles), and turned on the tv.  To Hunger Games.  And thought about all the things that could go wrong the next day (knee blows up, stomach blows up, snakes bite us, snakes and yellow jackets bite us, I got lost because i'm delusional after the snake and yellow jacket bites, I get lost because I have no sense of direction anyway).  Watching Hunger Games and thinking of all the things that can go wrong is DEFINITELY a great idea to do the night before the race.

Ready, Not Set, Go

Some of our NRC running crew pre-race.  I love these people.

4 a.m. wake up call, drive to the start of the course, load  buses for a 45 min trek to the start of the race where we planned on getting a bathroom stop before the race started.  Except...it didn't work that way at all.  Two bathrooms for runners meant a very long line and before I even thought about it they were yelling for the 50 milers to line up and go.  So I did.  I just started running.  When people train together they usually have a pre -race discussion where they work out what their race day plan is.  I knew Allie was going to start with me but she would run her race, so that might mean she would have to leave me behind along the course and I was prepared for it.  Just not at mile .002.   So I started running to hopefully catch her if she was at the front of the pack and yelling her name randomly (you can imagine that picture I'm sure..me running along just randomly yelling ALLIE out into the air).  But it worked.  She heard me.  She found me.  And there we were..running along..the start of 50 miles.  

Earning those $$$s.

First $40 (20 miles): 

 Fast blur.  First 15 miles were the most runnable trail course I've ever been on. Temps were great.  An aid station with a hummus tortillas, plain potatoes covered in salt.   Life was Sooo Good.

I totally fell in this water one second after this picture.

$50 (20-25)

Life became not so good. At all.  Of the entire race, these five miles would be the hardest for me.  Alllie hit her happy place.  The course was downhill.  Technical (full of rocks and roots). Allie was flying.  Me?  I was just cussing.  I knew my knee was going to give me a hard time.  I knew it from my previous 50k and I knew it from training.  I had been running "left footed" to save my right knee, trying to lead with my left foot through the course.  It didn't occur to me that if I did that I could WRECK my left knee.  My wheels started to fall off.  I suddenly knew I was going to have a very long day and night out there.  I had told Allie and everyone before the race that I just wanted to finish by the midnight cutoff and they had all laughed at me, saying they were sure we would be done by then.  In fact, when I said it, Allie looked at me and said "I sure HOPE we aren't out there at midnight!"  (I think this is called foreshadowing in some novels).  I knew I had a lot of hiking in front of me and that I wouldn't be running the rest of that race.  Even worse?  I knew it was time to say goodbye to Allie.  I told her she would need to leave me and go run her race and she told me she might see me at the next aid station.  She was off to run and I was picking my way through the downhills (way worse for me than climbs at that point).  I started to move through many of them backwards to keep the weight off my knee--imagine me out there in the middle of my pity party going down rocky hills backwards saying the same cuss word over and over.  That should give you a pretty good visual of that moment.  I actually did make myself change that cuss word for the word "grit" and over and over,  as my knee was killing me, I just kept saying "grit, grit, grit” and willing myself forward.

See these stairs?  My knee hates them.  A lot.

The good news and the super sucky news$70 (25-35) 

Guess what?  My knee rallied. 

 If you ask me what made it feel better I think I'll give credit to Allie's husband Michael for bringing a slushy cold coke to the next aid station.  You may think a cold slushy coke would have nothing to do with making a knee feel better but then you probably haven't had a cold slushy coke after running 32 miles in summer heat with a stupid knee.  If you had, you would know cold slushy coke makes all kinds of things better.

Well, not ALL kinds of things...

Poor Allie from miles 25-35 suffered like no one I've ever seen suffer on a course before.  It was  hot, her stomach started acting up and in just one flash of a second, she was puking...and puking...and puking.  And when you start puking in the middle of a 50 miler and you have been losing fluids...it's very difficult to get any liquid back in.  Two miles before the 38 mile aid station Allie told me she was going to DNF (not finsh) at the next aid station and that I should go on.  There was no way I was leaving her on that course--I was pretty scared of the dehydration situation she was in.  I told her we would just take it slowly and walk our way to the next aid station and figure something out.  I was hoping to figure out something along the way to "fix her" but really?  I couldn't imagine feeling like she was feeling and being able to do much of anything.  
I tried to think of all the positive encouraging, distracting things I could say for two miles and I think she tried to not just lie down in the middle of the course.    We got to the next aid station and she told me to go on.  And I stood there trying to figure out what to do.  We were in the middle of nowhere--I didn't know how long it would take Michael to get to her.  The aid station folks were good and were working with her and getting hold of Michael so I knew they would take care of her but ..ugh.  She assured me she was good and told me to go run.   I was kind of certain she would be connected to an IV drip soon and wished I had one there.  I said goodbye and took off in a daze, still second guessing myself.  

All that and a Bag of Chips $70-$84:  35-42  

I realized it had been awhile since I had eaten anything real as I took off out of the aid station.  I was hungry.  The aid stations before had mostly cookies and sweet stuff and I needed real food.  I was feeling great, but I was hungry so I ate what I could find.  I knew the next aid station had only water so as I left I asked a guy sitting off to the side if I could have one of his bags of Lays chips. (Later I would be incredibly grateful for that bag of chips). I didn't want to take time to find a way to stuff it in my pack so I just pinned it to my shirt front and took off (visualize me running through the woods alone with a bag of chips pinned to the front of me).  I knew I was headed into a technical section that I had been warned about called the rock garden and I wanted to get to it before dark so I took off running.  And GUESS WHAT!!! I had news that Allie was back on course running again.  THE ALLIE RALLY!!!  (you really are going to have to read her race report to completely understand that miracle).  

I was feeling amazing.   I  realized it was mile 41 and I was going to finish that race. I was alone,  the sun was starting to go down, it was gorgeous trails, it was just one of those sacred moments, ya know?   

And then it wasn't.

LONELY water.

Yes, you see those orange arrows.  I should have seen them too.  But, to be fair...there had not been orange arrows all day.  There were white flags.  The ones that were hidden by the water bottles. 😓

See this aid station?  Isn't it the saddest thing?   I stopped at the side of that table and filled up my water and took a picture so I could show how sad it was.  And then I blew out of there so I could get myself moving fast to still try to get as far as I could before dark.  I was desperately trying to get past the rock garden with light outside.  What I didn't realize at the time was that I had already been through rock garden--it just was much easier than I had expected after running Stump Jump 50k's rock garden.  I was soooo busy thinking about what a sad little aid station it was and taking a picture of it that what I really missed was the very critical little flags that the water jugs were covering up.  

My bonus $7  $84-$91  (42-45.5)

Note that I am the little black line on this map and  note the course.🙄

There I was running along, alone, in the dark, with my  head lamp, thinking about whether snakes came out in the dark, crossing a couple creeks that involved actually wading through one of them (Hmm...I didn't remember anyone saying there were more creek crossings...) and suddenly I thought, "those flags.  The little white ones.  Have I seen one of them in a while?"  Turns out, I hadn't. I was very. very. lost.  But you know what?  I wasn't really that freaked out. Turns out in the moment of being very lost, I actually just calmed myself down and tried to look at this offline map thing they had us download and when I finally figured out which little shape I was on the map.  

I slowly tried to find my way back and keep panic from setting in. It had been several hours of not eating so I was getting more and more aware of my need for food, but otherwise I was okay.  I finally got cell reception and was able to talk to Andrea who said they were all at the finish line waiting for me and I remember saying "WHY are you at the finish line??? I told you all I would be there at midnight" I think I always knew the adventure would last seventeen hours. Andrea was super sweet and I convinced her I would be okay and when I got back to the Lonely water aid station she said she thought Allie was close.  I tried calling Allie and she picked up and said "we're coming for ya! "  (she had hooked up with friends we had made earlier in the day who helped rescue her--cool part of the story she tells in her race report). For about 25 minutes I sat in the dark eating chips and waiting on Allie.

Earning all the rest of the dollars and the rest of the ALLIE RALLY$91-$107)

Y'all I wish You could have seen Allie come back from the dead.  The Allie Rally was the best comeback I think I've ever seen.  If you could have seen her sweet dehydrated face you would have kissed it. 

The rest of that race was a story of one foot in front of the other in the dark with some new friends, a story of Allie just making the decision over and over again to keep going "grit, grit, grit."  The entire time we were worried about making the cutoff and I went back and forth mentally trying to figure out when to push Allie, because she was still so dehydrated..but man...she was doing it.  It was a huge bonus to have the Indiana friends we had met earlier in the race with us at this point.  They weren't just helping Allie, they were a big encouragement to me..because at that point I was past 50 miles and was a little cranky freaking starving.

Before the race they ask you to choose a song they will play for you as you climb Mt Baker, this monster mountain/hill coming in to the finish line.   I knew Allie had chosen Beyonce's Freedom and had her tell the other girl's our favorite line of the song...Allie's theme for the day for certain:  "Hey! I'ma keep running 'cause a winner don't quit on themselves."
I thought about that line for her as she fought  her way through knowing we were bumping up against our midnight cutoff.  She sure didn't quit on herself.  She just.kept.going.
And As we neared Mt. Baker Julie, one of the rockstars we were finishing with,  played One Republic's I Lived, the song I had chosen for Mount Baker,  and with each step in the dark, trudging along with these amazing women,  tears were rolling down my cheeks.   The words said it all.  My whole day.  My whole training season.  Why I always want to do all the things.

Hope when you take that jump

You don't fear the fall
Hope when the water rises
You built a wall
Hope when the crowd screams out
They're screaming your name
Hope if everybody runs
You choose to stay

Hope that you fall in love

And it hurts so bad 

The only way you can know

You gave it all you had

And I hope that you don't suffer

But take the pain

Hope when the moment comes,

You'll say, I did it all

I owned every second 

that this world could give

I saw so many places

 the things that I did

Yeah with every broken bone

I swear I lived

I Hope that you spend your days

But they all add up

And when that sun goes down

Hope you raise your cup

I wish that I could witness

All your joy and all your pain

But until my moment comes

I'll say

I did it all

I owned every second 

that this world could give

I saw so many places

 the things that I did

Yeah with every broken bone

I swear I lived

After the Finish Line

Sorry this race report is lasting  a year and a half...it was 53.5 miles or so ya know and technically this means I made my $100 and bonus.  I'll just say there was this moment after I crossed the finish line (WHERE WE JUST MADE THE CUTOFF BY 8 MINUTES) when I took myself to Waffle House (still dirty, sweaty, smelly),  that I was sitting alone on a stool, a little delirious and wolfing down hashbrowns all the way, that I laughed and the waitress looked at me and I said "I ran 53 miles today."  Because I had.  Someday when I'm old this will be one of those visual memories I will pull out to remember it happened.

 With every race report comes all the thank yous.  To the people who trained with us, cheered for us, took care of  us, made it possible to go do this dream..to push our limits to see what happened.

Band geeks are the best geeks.  So are the dads of band geeks who stay in town so the band geek can have a parent cheering him at his game and working the concession stand.

To the legendary Team Baker who makes this the biggest hearted race you will ever find.  Their sweetness and fun embody everything right about trail culture and this race shows it in every detail.   To the NRC family and for Jeff, who took care of the responsibilities at home so I could go do what I got to do--not just Saturday but for a training season (okay, a lot of training seasons).  It's a whole-family sacrifice y'all and I feel selfish every time I do it and grateful I have people who say go and cheer me on in all the ways. 
 
And to Allison. my trail life coach, my pickle juice puker, my never gonna quit on herself rockstar, I just kind of want to ask one thing...
Can we do it again????

Race Report: The Boston

 For 26.2 (plus a little) miles on Monday people yelled "Smiley girl!" and "NRC!" over and over at me.  This was for two reasons.  1.  That Nolensville Running Club shirt I was wearing.  2.  I could not stop smiling.  In fact, even when it was extra hard and a little sucky (and there were some moments that it was definitely extra hard and a little sucky), I couldn't stop smiling because..well, there I was..AT THE BOSTON! 




You know when you are a kid and you can't wait for Christmas?   You are so excited it keeps you up at night and yet you are, you know...a little scared because you know somehow the reality could not possible live up to your expectations so you keep telling yourself to dial that excitement back (and it still didn't work)?   Well I'm gonna say Monday was like Christmas, my birthday, and ..well..all the good things and it was everything I ever hoped it would be.  It was like Christmas and my birthday had a baby and called it Boston.  It was that kind of crazy great.

I promise to try to not make this the longest race report ever. Never mind.  This is about to be the longest race report ever.  I wish I could edit.  It would have saved me many problems throughout the years.  But if you know me, you know editing myself is not a skill I have.  😜


So you get the Before, During, After...all 27,000 blogobits of it.  

ARE WE GOING TO DO THIS?

First off, I had this great support team.  Because this team has been crazy busy we didn't fly out until late Friday night, which ended up later because Southwest wanted us to have extra time in the airport 😬😏I suppose to watch the hockey game and for Jeff to do our taxes.

This meant we arrived in Boston, picked up our car and headed to our hotel (hour from the airport by the start line) and got there after 4 a.m.  This also meant we had to be out the door an hour later to make it downtown for Jeff to run the 5k he signed up for.   It was WINDY, cold, raining, miserable and I was just waiting for Jeff to say, "hey, let's just bag this thing and stay under warm hotel covers and sleep in and eat donuts."  He did not say that...so out into the miserable wind we headed (turns out later I found out Jeff was just waiting for me to say, "hey let's just bag this thing and eat donuts"...but it actually ended up being a lot of fun.  Jeff even got a PR out of his race despite being injured lately and the fact that he was stuck so far back in his corral he couldn't move quickly.

We headed back the hour to our hotel, grabbed the boys, grabbed breakfast and then a 2 hour nap and headed to the expo.

IT JUST GOT REAL

I know the second it got real.  It wasn't walking down Boylston  Street and seeing the race prep.  It wasn't when I was walking into the expo and saw all the signs and looked around at the freakishly fast looking runners.  It was the moment the lady smiled at me and handed me my bib and said "Welcome to the Boston Marathon" and I immediately teared up.  Because...They just gave me a bib.  MY BIB.  Like..one i would wear...when I RAN THE BOSTON MARATHON!!!!  

I had been warned the expo would be overwhelming and man...it was.  Suddenly I had the urge to buy all the things and none of the things because (buy all the things) everything said Boston Marathon on it and (none of the things) crowds and shopping paralyze me.  The boys went on a mission to load bags with free stuff and I just walked around telling myself I was at the Boston Marathon expo and just...smiling.

Each year one of the traditions is the Boston jacket.  It's this kind of ugly windbreaker you would never probably actually buy in real life but it has the boston logo big on the back and has a new design for each year and everywhere you go when you see someone wearing one of those you know they ran Boston.  It's like the letterman (lettermen?) jacket in high school that i didn't buy (which incidentally I only qualified to get because you had to place at a track meet and no one could run at one meet so I automatically placed, well that and I lettered in band and debate but can you really pull that off with any dignity?)  Anyway....😶😶  I GOT TO BUY THE LETTERMAN JACKET OF BOSTON!!!  I've never been so happy to spend $110 on a windbreaker (actually, I don't think I've ever bought a windbreaker) before in my life.  I was scared to try it on because of the bad mojo of wearing race clothing before the race.  It's a thing you know.

After the expo we found some food, some beer, went back and finally....got some sleep.

On Sunday Jeff and the boys headed back into Boston via the race course.  I tried to not panic as we headed over all the hills through all the towns and allI could think about was "Well CRAP, this is a LONG DRIVE!"  

The boys headed to the Red Sox game (ask Jeff about his free ticket score) and dropped me back at the expo to hang out and hear some speakers and wander around geeking out about running stuff. 

When I walked up and found Scott Jurek was up for this radio podcast thing I basically just stood right beside him to listen to him talk.  I was really awkward about it in a way that only I can be awkward but he stopped to talk to me after and was as amazing and adorable as I knew he would be.

We grabbed some pasta in the North End at a pretty restaurant, some pastries from Mike's (amazing) and then headed back to our hotel to watch hockey, get organized and let Jeff get more organized.  

PRE-RACE JITTERS

All folks talked about leading up to the race was how bad the weather was going to be and how they expected it to be like the previous year's.  This was kind of terrifying to me since I spent the previous year watching the race on tv and felt like I was suffering just watching it.  I decided to see if I could control the variables I could control.  So I bought a new rain coat.  Well, actually, I bought six new rain coats.  5 of these I bought online because I hate going to the store to buy rain coats..and other things:  Five were...not water resistant (i know, i tested each one by pouring a cup of water on it), too crunchy,  too hot and too ugly and finally I had to admit my husband was right and go to an actual sporting goods store and bought one (thank you to Kathy Sorenson who had the great pleasure of catching me in pre-race ramble freak out shopping mode and making that trip with me).  

So I had a rain jacket, hand warmers, toe warmers, multiple gloves, disposable plastic gloves to put over my multiple gloves, extra shoes, ponchos,  extra everything, all the things because like I always do...i had over researched and over thought it and I'm sorry, but when someone says "you shouldn't look at the forecast ahead of time because really you can't do anything about it" I think, "Oh yeah?? Of course I can.  I CAN BUY SIX RAIN JACKETS." 

So it was the night before and I'm thinking of the weather and the fact that I don't start until 11 and the fact that i have no nutrition plan at all or basically any plan and I remind myself that I'm going to go party in the cold freaking rain and it will be fun no matter what I have to do to suck up any fun I can get and then ...I just go to sleep.

THE PLAN

From the day I qualified for Boston I knew my plan for this race was just to go and have a good time.  Some people race Boston and manage to requalify or even PR but I knew I didn't want to do that for a couple reasons.  1.  I was scared of the course...the hills...all the hills....heartbreak hill.  2. It's the biggest party I've ever had an invitation to and I didn't want to miss it being freaked out about if I could go fast enough.  3.  My training had moved from a solid, disciplined plan to a month-long accidental taper so I was just praying to be able to make it the whole way on some wonky knees and a kinda jacked up back.  (BTW, did I tell you that I tried to use KT tape for the first time this race?  Did I tell you how it just started peeling off in a big disaster mess one mile into the race?  )  So my plan was to go run the first half at an 8:30 pace, which is not an easy pace for me but one I knew i could do on the first half of the course, which is notoriously easier and downhill.  Then, for the second half of the course, which is notoriously not easier and not downhill  I was going to party.  Goof off, drink beer--kiss some girls, make some new friends...all the things I am really good at.

RACE MORNING 

I woke up smiling.  RACE DAY!!!  My phone was full of so many encouraging texts and so much love it was all kinds of awesome.  This may have been my favorite text of all though.

 I looked outside and checked my phone and suddenly realized the weather was going to be my friend (ish).  It was 60 degrees and rain was coming at some point but not it a break-out-the -winning-rain -jacket sort of way. 

I must have been excited because when Jeff walked into the bathroom I was trying to talk to him as I was dressing and realized the reason why my running bra felt awkward is because I was putting it on backwards.  He also pointed out I had my underwear on inside out and he assumed that was not some sort of good luck thing.

Speaking of luck...I had lost one of my earrings the day before in the hotel room.  They are not expensive earrings but I always wear the same pearls and I was sort of worried that if I didn't wear them my race would not be good (Yes, I have issues).

So I elected to leave the one in...at least half the luck is better than no luck, right?  That was my logic.  Please note that if you see me in race photos with one earring--that's half luck.

So yep, I was ready.

One cool thing that happened leading up to the race is that Andy, a classmate  from high school,  saw a facebook post and told me he lives on the walk to the start line for the course and that he and his wife always host runners race morning and that I was welcome to use his house to hang out before the race.  This was such a great thing because I got to see him, meet his wife and their house kept me out of the mud of athletes village (where you wait until it's time to start) and also meant a toilet that flushed. That was a great thing because it made the whole waiting thing stress free. 

PLEASE NOTE THE TAPE ON MY KNEES AND TRY TO FIGURE OUT WHY I EVER THOUGHT THAT COULD WORK

LOOK AT WHERE ANDY'S HOUSE IS LOCATED.  HOW FUN TO BE ABLE TO LIVE ON THE COURSE LIKE THAT AND IT WAS AWESOME THAT THEY WERE MAKING SURE RUNNERS GOT SUNSCREEN AND ANYTHING ELSE THEY NEEDED.

RACE TIME

There I was, waiting for the start, looking around me and just breathing in and out.  Breathing and smiling and thinking I AM HERE.  I'M AT "THE BOSTON" MOM!   It was thick with people and the announcers were talking and everyone had moved in their conversations to talking about how muggy it was starting to feel and then next thing I knew, it was time to start.  And I went to start and realized, when I went to start my watch...it was still on my last run.😳  I quickly tried to delete it and move along and then...I was off and running.  

FIRST HALF

I could not believe how thick the crowds already were.  We started with a nice descent but no one was speeding out of there because there were people everywhere.  So we all just ran at whatever pace until a couple miles in, where we could settle in a little easier to our normal pace.  

I stopped to take a few pics. Because this may have been the best high five I got of the million I got that day.

  and because later I would need to remember this sign

I did not take a picture of all the men and women stopped right on the side of the road to pee.  Although I admired their efficiency and their carefree attitudes I found myself waiting for a porta potty at mile 4 because I had hydrated that well.  I then decided it was time to see where the guys were.  

The week before in my run I had practiced using my headphones and hey siri to call jeff and so out on the course I was able to check in to see how he and the boys were doing.  I was super surprised to hear they were waiting on me at mile six.  I didn't expect to see them until mile 20 or so but Jeff and Nick were working magic and managed to get to multiple places on that course, which is probably as incredible as actually running the marathon.  I was happy to see them at six and at mile 10 I knew I had a super cool surprise.  A friend of mine I met in an online forum when I was pregnant with Max (she was pregnant too) had reached out to me to let me know she would be at mile 10 because she lives in Natick.  I was pumped.  This would be the first time I would meet her in real life after being online friends for 14 years.  And there she was at mile 10!  I stopped to get a picture and hug her neck and it was all kinds of cool.

After mile 10 it was still work time.    I had not realized how tough it would be to get water on the course and how much energy it would take to get around other people.  I was starting to get a little freaked out in my head.  The first half of the race, I thought, was supposed to be fast and easier and you know what?  It wasn't all that fast or easy.  It was, however, all kinds of rolling hills and the heat started cranking up.  I was still good--straight on smiling and high five-ing every kid (and dog) and my pace felt just where I had been planning.  I knew I was going to start goofing off in a few miles.  And you know what was coming up????  THE SCREAM TUNNEL!!!

The Scream Tunnel is this line of girls at Wellelsey College--They offer kisses to runners and encouragement and scream so loud it can be heard a mile away.  It's this amazing thing that I can't describe and it was so much fun.  It is such a part of the Boston Marathon tradition and there I was running through a tunnel of screaming girls with signs saying things  like, "kiss me if you're chafed" and "kiss me, I'm from Ireland" and just "kiss me" 

SECOND HALF

After the screams of the Wellesley girls died down it was time for the second half and it was time to party.  The sun was bearing down now so I was ready.  I was able to see the Mucci guys past the Wellesley girls and I was so happy to see them because 1. they are awesome  and 2. they were bringing me pickles and pickle juice, which i decided i desperately needed since my nutrition plan was random gus, random gatorade on the course and i needed that salty pickle juice.

I will say, however, that shortly after that shot of pickle juice my stomach did it's normal "i hate you wendy and I don't know why you run thing."  I promise you it had nothing to do with the pickle juice and everything to do with the fact that my stomach hates me and doesn't know why we run.  But this meant a 2 minute porta potty stop, which I didn't care about because I was in party mode.  

And It was time for party mode.

Except

no

one 

was 

partying.

Seriously, I think those rolling hills and heat crushed everyone's soul around me.  I kept trying to run up beside runners to start a conversation and it always looked like this

No one wanted to play.  The crowds were amazing...Everywhere.  They were partying.  The runners, however?  They were ..well...running.  We were headed into the toughest part of the course and Sweet Caroline was blasting and there was me singing and screaming away and there are the runners around me giving me the "you better shut up before I make you" stare at me.

 I kept trying.  I scanned  the crowds looking for someone to offer me a beer.  I high fived all the little kids that none of the other runners would  high five because they were busy..running. And I just kept smiling because I'MRUNNINGTHEBOSTON!  I also couldn't  take pictures really at that point very easily because I was dripping in sweat.  I saw Jeff and the boys at mile 20 ish and drank more pickle juice.  I knew Jeff wanted to talk about my time with me but is holding back because i had told him I was partying on the course but then it was mile 20 and  I realized three things:  1. no one on the course is offering me beer.  2.  the other runners are busy running.  3.  If I could kick it in, there is a slight chance I could qualify for Boston for next year.  

So I tried to kick it in.

It was a challenge.

My feet were hurting.

Plus there were hills...more hills even after the hills were supposed to be over.

Plus, it was hot.

Don't get me wrong. It was crazy amazing.  People were screaming their guts out everywhere! 

"Go smiley girl!! Go NRC!!!"  

I just kept trying to put my pace a little faster.  At mile 21 or so I was getting a little panicky so I put my music on for the fist time of the day, tuning into that Boston playlist friends helped me put together.   Suddenly, there was the CITGO sign, which meant...well...it actually meant I still had a long, freaking way to go but somewhere beyond that Citgo sign was a finish line.  The bottoms of my feet still hurt but I just kept thinking of the finish line and watching my watch.  I knew for sure that I didn't want to miss the finish line experience.  I knew I had worked too hard to waste the chance to soak in right on Hereford, Left on Boylston.  And so when I got there...I just ran and cried and cheered and smiled and thought about all the people and runs that had put me in that moment and that of course made me cry as well.  

And then it was over and they were giving me a medal and putting a space blanket around me and the sky tore open in rain and wind and I looked at my watch and realized.

OHMYGOODNESS

I had ran the time that I needed to qualify for next  year.  Not by a huge margin. But maybe.  Turns out...when no one will play along with me I can just make myself run.

But I will still be smiling.  Look at these bootlegged race images and you can hopefully get the idea of what that day was like for me:

If you've hung with  me this long through this blog, you get the idea.  It was everything I dreamed it would be and more.  It was this:

and this:

and this:

And I can't even write without crying about all the people and all the things that put me on that course on Monday.  Shared sweat, shared tears, a family that sacrificed lots of times where I was heading out the door to run, a running club that just is family, friends that let me be my over-thinking, over-sharing, over-everything self and have cheered me on like crazy.  I can't even begin to pour out enough thanks for all that.

I didn't want to waste one second of the Boston Marathon.  And I promise, I didn't.  That day will be in my memory forever long after my legs won't carry me miles.  And when I think of that day?

You can bet I'll be smiling.