Marathon #8 recap

Well...that's an underwhelming title for an overwhelming day. Everything else my tired brain came up with was either too cheesy or just plain stupid. So, I'll just call this post what it is:  simply a recap of my 8th marathon.

I've completed 8 marathons. I have to say...I like the sounds of that.  Eight marathons. First, Chicago in October of 2009.  Second, Minneapolis in June of 2010. Third, Quad Cities in September of 2010. Fourth, Quad Cities in September of 2011 (where I earned my PR of 3:49.46). Fifth, Virginia Beach in March of 2012 (my slowest...and most dramatic. I was incredibly sick and actually had passed out on the flight out to VA twice, resulting in an ER visit. I still managed to finish:  in 4:52.01). Sixth, Marine Corps in DC on my 30th birthday in October of 2012.  Seventh, Los Angeles in December of 2012 (on the day after Christmas!). 

And....eighth....today. 

Here I am at the finish...rather proud, I must say. 

....let's back up a bit, though. It was a long road to the finish this morning, both physically and mentally. 

I toyed with the idea of running one of the events in the inaugural Run River City event in Peoria since last fall when I heard it was scheduled. I was quite excited about a local marathon and was thrilled that Running Central, my favorite fabulous central IL running store, was sponsoring a team for the event to run to raise money and awareness for Easter Seals.  I felt strongly about supporting an exciting new event in my area...supporting Running Central...and of course, about supporting Easter Seals. Those who know me know that Easter Seals, an organization that provides pediatric outpatient rehabilitation services for children with disabilities, has been near and dear to my heart since 2007 when I moved to this area. So, for me, participation in the Run River City event would be a win-win-win. 

There were 5k, 25k, marathon and marathon relay options. I actually planned a number of weeks ago to run the relay. Long story short, my team fell apart. Next, I considered the idea of running the 25k (15.5 miles). I had never run a 25k race before...could be cool to add another race distance to my list. This week, however, I started thinking about just going for the full. Really...what's ~11 more miles?! ;-)

My coach, Laura, caught wind of my tentative plans and strongly encouraged me to NOT do the full. In fact, in my Training Peaks schedule she specifically wrote in a long run...of NO MORE THAN 13-16 miles for today. My left foot has given me some grief the past few months. Additionally, I hadn't run further than 13.1 miles since my marathon in December.  I really, really should listen to her.  Sometimes...I just get...stubborn.

Yesterday afternoon, I drove over to the Caterpillar welcome center in downtown Peoria. I walked up to the registration table and told the young man at the computer that I would like to register for the event. He asked me what distance...and I hesitated before responding "well I don't know. The full I guess."  He looked at me as if I was kinda crazy and said, "uh, it's YOUR decision!"  I'm sure he was thinking something along the lines of, "what kind of nut job walks up to a race registration not knowing what distance to register for?  Don't they consider training?!"  I repeated myself, more confidently this time, "yes. I know. I want to sign up for the full please!"

I secured my number and shirt, then checked out the Running Central tent where I scored a new pair of my favorite New Balance shoes (that I've used for about a year) for about half price on sale! Sa-weeet!!

After a dinner of GF pasta and lots of water, I hit the sack.  This morning, I climbed out of bed at the last possible minute (as is my typical style) and got ready for the race. I got to the race site around 6:40 for the 7am start (cutting it a bit close!!), scored a stellar parking spot along the road, visited a porta potty and made it to the start with time to spare. 

Number 70...ready to rock this thing!!

Wheelchair athletes lining up...many were wearing red "Team Believe" shirts for Easter Seals...pretty great. 

The following two photos I found on the Peoria Journal Star website:

(I'm in the left part of the pic above, with my head turned and a white visor on. In other news...I'm totally jealous of the abs on the chick in front of me!!)

AND THEY'RE OFF!!!

(I'm in the right side of the pic...white visor.  I love this picture!)

Things felt great...mile 1 was done and over before I even felt warmed up.  I completed mile 1 in 7:47.  Adrenaline ALLLLLWAYS gets me and I start off more quickly than I should.  Miles 2 and 3 were at a much more manageable (for me) pace of 8:15 and 8:16, respectively.  After that...I just wasn't feeling it.  I started to slow down.  It didn't take me long at all today to see that a 3:35 finish (my age group's Boston Qualifying (or BQ) time) just isn't in my capabilities...yet.  Miles 4 and 5 were slower yet...8:35 and 8:45.  I picked it up a bit for Mile 6...8:37...and Mile 7...8:26.  Mile 8 ventured into the 9-minute-mile territory with a 9:01 mile.  Miles 9-13 were all right around the 9 minute-mile pace.  Mile 14 slowed a bit to 9:15.  Miles 15-20 were all between 9-9:25. 

At mile 19 I started doubting myself and started wondering if maybe I was a complete idiot for running today...when I was explicitly advised not to.  Plus it was hot...and I was getting tired.  At each and every water stop (there were around 20, which was fabulous!!) I took two cups...one to dump over my head and one to drink.  Additionally, a few kind people were handing out cups of ice cubes in their yards!  These ice cubes felt like small pieces of heaven today.  Some went in my mouth...others went on my head...some were rubbed on my cheeks...and two went down the back of my shirt.  Ahhhhh!!!!

As I fought through mile 19-20, I told myself that when I got to mile 20 I would allow myself a short walking break.  I hadn't walked at all at that point and rationalized that a 20 mile non-stop running workout was, if nothing else, a great workout.  As soon as my watch beeped on that 20th mile, I stopped running and began to walk.  As anyone who has made it through elementary science knows...an object in motion tends to stay in motion and an object at rest tends to stay at rest unless it is acted upon by an outside force.  Likewise, an object walking or running at a slow pace sometimes requires an outside force to act upon it to get it moving again.

Around mile 21, my outside force came in the shape of a sweet "random stranger" (as we later called one another).  She ran up beside my right side and said something to me.  I had to take out my ear buds to hear her; she was offering up kind words of encouragement to spur me onward in my race.  I smiled at her and we started running together.

We exchanged some pleasantries, talked about the course...the heat...our aching bodies...and then she began to open up to me.  Turned out, she had just run in the Boston Marathon one month ago.  She shared that she was running today as a way to emotionally heal from that day.  I won't write about all the details of what she shared with me, because I don't feel it is my story to share.  One thing she did say to me that especially resonated within me, though, was "I have been dealing with survivors' guilt."  She went on to say that she didn't understand why it was that she was able to escape that day, bearing nothing more than the emotional scars, while others fared much worse.  As we fought through those final miles together, there were times she became caught up in her emotions and I had to wipe a few involuntary tears from my own cheeks. 

As we neared mile 23, we saw a fellow runner begin to stumble.  A few of us started shouting for help and two strong men ran up to the struggling runner and caught him before he could fall.  I will never forget looking in his eyes in that moment...they were rolling around in their sockets and his body seemed to be flailing uncontrollably.  What happened to me next is somewhat embarrassing to admit.  I started panicking...or hyperventilating...or something.  Honestly, I'm not really sure what was going on with my body.  A combination of the physical stress of the race and the heat and the emotional conversation I had been having with my new friend, on top of seeing the pain and struggle of a fellow runner...it all got to me.  I started breathing crazily and was horrified by the gasping sound coming out of my body.  I couldn't take deep breaths, which made me panic more, and I continued to gasp.  I felt my lungs inside my chest expanding as if they were going to push out of my ribs.  I couldn't stop tears from coming out of my eyes.  After what felt like an eternity...but was likely only a minute or two...I was able to talk myself down and get myself under control.

After being assured by others that the struggling runner would be taken care of, we continued on our way...together we pushed onward.  Our final miles were a run-walk combination.  A few times, my new friend needed to stop to throw up (by this point, the throwing up was dry heaves, as her poor stomach and body were completely empty).  Each time she urged me to leave her and go on...but I couldn't do it.  A few times, a selfish part of me was a bit tempted (just offering up complete honesty!) to continue on and just wait for her at the finish...but there was just NO way I could rationalize leaving her.  She had picked me up when I was about ready to give in between miles 20-21, the least I could do was to finish up the race with her.

As we neared the finish line, the reality of crossing a marathon finish line began setting in for her.  We talked about how today was completely different than April 15 and that what had happened there in Boston on that terrible day was not going to be happening today.  With about three tenths of a mile to go, I glanced down at my watch.  "4:07" shown back at me.  In a split second I realized that we would likely be crossing the finish line at 4:09.  4:09...when the explosion occurred at the finish line in Boston. 

We picked up our pace and ran toward the finish line stronger than we had run in the past 6 miles.  When the finish line came into view, it became clear that we would indeed be running under it within the 4:09 mark.  I didn't say anything to her as we finished, nor did I say anything after we finished.  However, I am sure she realized what was happening.

We crossed the finish line together at 04:09:30.  Two were absolutely stronger than one.

We exchanged some sweaty hugs after being presented with our medals.  We then parted ways.  I have a feeling, though, that our race together today won't be the last we see of each other.

Today was a day I will truly never forget.  It wasn't my fastest marathon...and it wasn't my slowest.  It was hard-fought, though, and a great day of training.  Most importantly, though, it taught me that there are things far more important than PRs and BQ times.  Kindness, compassion and companionship...to name a few.

Wrapping up with a few final tidbits from the day....

This vehicle cracked me up..."nuisance abatement vehicle"?!  It was parked on part of the course (I took the photo after I was done).

Here's a breakdown of my splits!  As you can see, I did the exact OPPOSITE of what one SHOULD do in a race...run "negative splits" (getting gradually faster). Instead...my pace dropped significantly throughout the race. But....I'm ok with that. And I truly mean it. Like I said, today's race showed me that there are things far more important than PRs and even BQ times...not that I'm giving up on my quest for those things!  That will just be for another day :-).

Each of my marathons is memorable, for one or more reasons. Chicago...my first. Quad Cities...my PR. Marine Corps...my 30th birthday (and hurricane Sandy!). Peoria...because it was a tangible lesson for me in what's really important in life. 

I'm truly grateful that I had the experiences that I did today. The soreness in my joints and muscles will (hopefully!) fade this week. My sun-burnt shoulders and arms will sting less. But, I really hope that I never forget the way crossing that finish line side by side with my new friend felt. The kindness of a stranger taught me about strength today in a way nothing has before.  To whom much is given, much will be required. I have this life, these legs that carry me (regardless of if they are as thin as I may like or as fast as I would desire!), and the heart that beats strongly within my chest. I know today more than ever that I have the responsibility to share my gifts and kindness with those I come into contact with.  Thank you to sweet J for an unforgettable run!

Looking forward to many more adventures,

Rachel Lynn

A Weekend of Firsts

The past few years, and the past year in particular, I've experienced a number of racing-and-training-related "firsts".  For fun, here are a few...

First half marathon (April 2009)
First full marathon (October 2009)
First time seeing a PT and orthopedic physician for Achilles tendinitis, resulting in 2 months of NO RUNNING aside from "pool jogging" (October 2009)
First time getting top female in an event (a SMALL 5k in April 2011)
First stress fracture (April 2011)
First time swimming in open water AND in a wetsuit (May 2011)
First triathlon (May 2011)
First time using clips on my bike (August 2011)
First yoga class (September 2011)
First century ride (October 2011)
First time actually getting fitted for running shoes by someone who knew what they were talking about (March 2012)
First time purchasing and riding a shiny new Trek carbon road bike (May 2012)
First time witnessing someone (my father) falling off of a bike, necessitating an ER visit, resulting in recurring mental anguish (May 2012)
First Olympic tri (June 2012)
First half Ironman (September 2012)
First experience with chafing so severe I had to resort to Desitin (September 2012)
First experience working with a tri coach (November 2012)
First time using aero bars (March 2013)
First time getting stuck in my pedals and falling off of my bike...twice for good measure (April 2013)


The weekend of May 3-5, I added some more "firsts" to my growing list:

First time participating in a Rev3 event (AWESOME!)
First time visiting Knoxville, Tennessee
First time participating in a relay triathlon (or any sort of relay race, for that matter!)
First time swimming in the Tennessee River
First time swimming in open water during the 2013 season
First time placing in a 70.3 relay!

My awesome coach, Laura, extended an invitation to complete a 70.3 relay with her at Rev3 Knoxville to myself and Steve, another athlete she coaches.  I was hesitant (the two of them, Laura in particular, are MUCH more adept triathletes than I am!)...but am glad I agreed to go.  It was a BLAST...and a fabulous learning and training opportunity.

Aaaaand...we got third in the relay category of the race!  I completed the swim portion, Laura did the bike and Steve ran.  It was a NASTY weekend, weather-wise.  I don't think it stopped raining the ENTIRE time we were in Knoxville!  Clearly it didn't affect me in the swim (c'mon...water is water), but the bike and run portions of the race had to be just miserable (Laura and Steve are champions!!).  I will say, though, the swim was a challenge in its own right...the water was about 58 degrees!  It was so stinking cold!!  I was grateful for my wetsuit....and for the thermal swim cap Laura lent me!

This race definitely got me pumped up for triathlon season...AND it made me eager to try out more Rev3 events!




Team Epic Endurance...with our SWEET Rev3 Knoxville finishers' medals AND third place medals!



NOT very excited about the cold  water...this was taken the day before the event; we were allowed to practice on the course.



Pretending to be stoked



Thinking about going in...



I look pretty happy...I was probably simply delirious from the cold



Pretending to know what I'm doing

The perfect distance

The past few weeks have shown me that the half marathon, 13.1 miles, is my perfect distance. 

As I was explaining to a friend recently...I've realized that 5k's just aren't for me.  In my opinion, in general they seem to be for
a) new runners who need an easily attainable distance to train for,
b) casual runners satisfied with the respectable distance of 3+ miles who don't necessarily have the desire to do longer races, or
c) super fast runners who can be absolutely speedy at a short distance and bring in 3 consecutive ~6 minute-miles. 

Let me be clear...I am NOT poo-pooing at 5ks (in fact, I am particularly impressed with those who fall into category (c)!  My body was just NOT made to go fast.  Or, if it was, I can't seem to make it do that.  I hate hurting too darn much!!)...simply saying they aren't MY "best fit race."  Since they aren't a great fit for me...unless there's something super special about the event...I just can't justify paying $$$ to register to run a 5k.

Marathons are still my true "loves"...but there are too many variables with a marathon.  They are just too long...and there's too much time for pain/injuries/nutrition issues/GI distress.  Half marathons...for me anyway....are simply perfect.

Exhibit A:
My first race of this season was Saturday, April 27th.  My dear sister Megan and I registered for this race together.  It was to be Megan's first race post-baby!  Macy, my adorable niece, was just five months old at the time of this race.  I am VERY proud of my sister for putting forth all of the extra effort needed to train for a half marathon after giving birth and while caring for an infant!  Megan, as I've written about many times, is who spurred me on to running years ago.  I was more than happy to be able to support her in her first race "back" after baby!

In the weeks leading up to the race I couldn't quite decide how I wanted to treat the race.  I had earned my half marathon PR at the U of I half marathon the previous year (1:48:20).  Part of me thought that perhaps a faster PR could be in the cards for me at this year's event.  But, an even larger part of me thought that this was probably a lofty goal.  I had not been running much in the weeks leading up to the event.  The longest run I'd completed in April prior to that weekend was a 7 mile run on Sunday, April 14.  My left foot had been bothering me for about a month...I'd received a tentative diagnosis of Morton's Neuroma from two different physical therapists and had subsequently been taking it "easy", mostly swimming and biking.

Even in spite of the foot pain, I had no doubt that I'd still be able to at least finish the race.  I toyed with the idea of running alongside Megan for the entire race for support.  I probably SHOULD have been a good sister and run with her :).

But...on race morning, I felt great.  The weather was cool...the rain that had been forecasted was holding off.  My GI system and nutrition felt on track.  All systems appeared to be a "go".  So...I made the decision to go for it.  Selfish...maybe (sorry Meg!! ;))...but I am glad I challenged myself.  It paid off!!  I smashed my former PR, besting it by 1:31, and replaced it with a new one of 1:46.49.  Not too shabby for my first race of the year!  It felt good to know that my training seemed to be paying off!

Even better than my PR, though, was the fact that I felt STRONG throughout the entire race!  My body felt great...the best I've ever felt running in any race, ever!  My foot did start hurting around mile 10, but it wasn't anything unbearable by any means.  It didn't slow me down, and I did my best to force it out of my mind.  After the race, I truly felt on top of the world.



Me with Meg after the U of I Half Marathon

 

Me after the Quad Cities Distance Classic...at my alma mater
**hmmmm...apparently my blue Lulu pullover brings me some half-marathon luck!  I just realized I wore the same top to both events this year!  Ha!!**

Exhibit B: 
My third race of the season (second running event) was this past Sunday...the Quad Cities Distance Classic Half Marathon.  This was my first year participating in this event.  I had been planning to go home to the Quad Cities this past weekend for my niece's dedication at Megan and her husband's church on Mother's Day.  On a whim about two weeks ago, I Googled "Quad Cities races May 12" and noted that the Quad Cities Distance Classic was indeed on that day...and it was on Augustana College's campus!  TOO PERFECT!!

I decided to wait until the morning of the event to decide for certain if I was going to do the event.  If it interfered with family plans...if it was raining...or if I didn't feel well, I would simply not attend.  But...if all of the stars seemed to be aligned...I would go.

When I woke up Sunday morning, I felt great...so I ate a banana and a KIND bar (my pre-race meal of choice!) and set out on my way to Augie's campus.  I found a prime parking spot in the Centennial Hall parking lot and made my way to Carver Hall where the registration and packet pickup was held.  After securing everything I needed to participate, I made my way back to my car where I sat in the warmth for a while...it was a chilly morning!

Right before the start, I made my way out of my car and walked a short distance to the starting line.  The weather was cool, but not freezing.  There was a bit of wind, but it wasn't horrid. 

The race started...and I felt fantastic.  The route started downhill, but soon began a short uphill jaunt.  The course was actually pretty hilly.  The wind added to the challenge for some portions of the race.  As I was running, I felt fantastic.  Actually, until about mile 8 I was envisioning a NEW PR.  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least slightly disappointed that I didn't get a PR ;)....my time Sunday fell short of my time two weeks ago at the U of I by a mere TWO seconds!  My official finish time was 1:46.51!  Until the official times were posted later last night, I actually thought there was a chance that my finish time was identical to the finish time at the U of I event.  How funny would that have been?!

I am VERY proud of my pace...8:09 average per mile for the race, which is fantastic for me!  I'm the girl whose comfortable/default pace is 9:30!  As I previously stated, I DON'T like hurting.  I love running...and and can run for hours on end...but would prefer to run slower for longer than faster for a shorter time period.  That said, I am slowly adjusting to the mental game of becoming OK with pain...probably a GOOD thing as the Ironman date only looms closer and closer!

My splits are as follows:

Mile 1:  7:39
Mile 2:  8:04
Mile 3:  7:59
Mile 4:  7:50
Mile 5:  7:23
Mile 6:  8:03
Mile 7:  8:03
Mile 8:  8:07
Mile 9:  8:17
Mile 10: 8:17
Mile 11: 8:19
Mile 12: 8:20
Mile 13: 8:10

Ok...I realize that in an ideal situation, one would run negative splits (or get faster as the race goes on).  My pace was fairly steady (right below 8 min/mile) for 8 miles.  After that I was pretty solidly around 8:20 for the remainder of the race.  BUT...my pace IS much faster than it USED to be.  So, I consider that a big victory for me.

I'm cautiously optimistic about the rest of my 2013 racing season after my two solid (for me!) half marathons!

This next weekend is a new event in the Peoria area...The River City Marathon.  There are the following distances available:  5k, 25k, marathon and marathon relay.  I had tentatively been planning to complete the marathon relay with some friends, but the plans fell through.  I still want to attend the event, but am undecided on distance.  As previously stated, I feel like the 5k would be a waste of $$ (for me)...I've never run a 25k so that could be a fun experience...but part of me wants to just go for the full marathon.  Why not?!  I will probably just wait until Saturday (packet pickup!) to decide.  We'll see...

Boston...thoughts from an ordinary marathoner

I love writing...almost as much as I love running. 

I've loved writing ever since the sixth grade when a likely-too-kind language arts teacher praised a story I'd written.  It is one thing that if I "had more time", I'd love to do more of and expand my skill set in.  I've found writing to be "therapeutic"....whenever I have too many thoughts or worries rattling around in my head, it typically helps me to sort through things a bit if I get the words out in some fashion.  In my younger years, I filled countless journals with musings and dreams.  More recently, I've blogged.  I had a blog in college that I abandoned years ago.  I've had a few in more recent years that I have posted in somewhat sporadically.  I even started a completely anonymous blog on New Year's Day 2012...less than a month after moving out on my own.  In it, I recorded some of the adventures I experienced as a newly (unhappily) single woman living alone for the first time in her entire life.  I haven't written in it for a number of months now because I've forgotten the password (and I've also forgotten the e-mail address I made up to go along with it...whoops!).  However, I still enjoy going back to read my entries sometimes.  My crises make me laugh...and smile when I realize how far I really HAVE come.  But anyway...on to the real point of this post...

Ideas for possible blog posts have been rolling around in my head ever since news of the Boston Marathon bombings arrived to me via text message Monday afternoon, April 15, 2013. This post has remained a "draft" for weeks. Every few days, I'd open it up and delete...write...edit...ponder.

I know writing this is somewhat dangerous...I don't want to appear as if I am trying too hard to make a national catastrophe somehow pertinent to me, because it's not about me.  I wasn't even there. But, I'd be lying if I said it hasn't affected me in some ways. I know I can't be the only "casual" runner who feels the way I do.  Since that awful day, I've toed the starting line of two races. Each time, my mind has wandered to such places as "I wonder what it felt like to be there on that day." I have many more races on my agenda between now and my 2013 A-race (Ironman Wisconsin is in now less than four months!)...and I know I'll carry a bit of those thoughts with me to each one.

On the afternoon of Monday, April 15 I checked my phone in between students' speech therapy sessions. I had a number of text messages, all urging me to check the news...telling me that there had been explosions at the finish line of the Boston Marathon. I remember being confused and I can still feel the furrowing of my eyebrows and wrinkling of my forehead as those words danced in front of my eyes. Typing "Boston explosion" into Google immediately brought up a number of frightening news posts.  As I perused the limited and repetitive information available on the Internet at the time, text messages from well-meaning friends continued to roll in...now many were asking me if I happened to be in Boston running.

I remember fighting back involuntary and unwelcome tears a number of times as the day went on. Confusion, fear, disgust, disbelief all coursed through my veins. I checked the Internet for updates in between sessions with students. I certainly conducted sub-par therapy sessions as my head was not fully in the game. My thoughts were in Boston.

4:09. The explosion at the finish line occurred when the timing clock was at four hours and nine minutes. My 7 marathons have roughly averaged that time. Some faster, some slower...but all within that general vicinity. In my head, I imagined a bunch of "me's" crossing the finish at that time. I couldn't stop myself from imagining their fear, pain and confusion.

In the days following that afternoon, I became almost obsessed with reading accounts of runners who were in Boston on that day.  I read blog entries, Facebook posts and news interviews.  I seldom watch the news, heck I rarely even turn ON the television in my apartment. Yet, on the evening of Friday, April 19 I laid on my couch and nervously watched for hours as the live news unfolded:  one of the alleged bombers was captured in his hiding place in a boat in someones back yard before the country's eyes that night.

I remember finally getting off the couch around 10:30 that night and finally getting in a workout.  I climbed onto my bike trainer in my living room for a 90 minute ride, my mind spinning almost as fast as my legs.  The drama and sadness from the week weighed heavy on my head.  I remember feeling guilty, for allowing myself to become so mentally bogged down by all of it when I wasn't even there.  It all seemed very surreal, like a bad dream.

Running, to me, is a gift. I don't expect non-runners to understand, but I know that this sentiment resonates with many runners.  We run for clarity, health, sanity, peace.  We run to feel alive, to feel the comforting discomfort our body feels after miles of pounding.  We run for camaraderie, to strengthen bonds with friends and to forge exciting new relationships.  We run for those who cannot...we run because something in us feels like it truly was made to run.  The events in Boston made me feel as if there was something out there that was trying to take this gift away from everyone who enjoys it.

Runners are some of the most selfless, kind and giving people I've ever encountered.  Runners are accepting and forgiving.  The running community raises money and support for countless organizations in many towns all over the world.  One example in my area:  a member of our local running club hosts an event nearly every month that raises money for a different charity each run.  Many races give money to organizations that fight cancer, autism, child abuse, hunger and other atrocities.  If anyone ever called runners as a group selfish, singularly minded or struck-up, they'd be sorely mistaken.

There have been far too many large-scale human-caused tragedies during my lifetime (ok...just ONE would be too many)....9/11, school shootings, parents going nuts and killing their own children, crazy men kid kidnapping young girls and keeping them locked up for years, shootings in movie theaters, shootings in churches and shopping malls...now bombings at a marathon...the list goes on and on. It's more than enough to make a person wary of going anywhere a large group of people could be present for fear of it being a "target" of some sort of attack. I want nothing more than to be a mother someday...but recently I've had thoughts like "do I really want to bring a child into this evil, sad world?"  Again...I know I am not alone in these kinds of thoughts.

But...I know we can't hole up in our homes. We can't avoid subways and stadiums and theaters and finish lines. And, we can't suppress our dreams.  Dreams like becoming a parent, cycling across the country, climbing Mount Everest, getting our PhD, or completing an Ironman....these dreams and others like them bring so much to our world and we can't give up on them.  Or...at least we shouldn't.  Life is for living, for living to the fullest.  Giving up on ourselves and on our dreams would be a disservice...to ourselves, our families, our friends and to those we would inspire or serve along the path to achieving our dreams. 

I will keep racing, and I will certainly keep running.  I won't be writing messages reminiscent of Boston my shirt or wearing pictures of victims to races.  Those kinds of displays, while poignant when sincere, are not my style.  However, I will carry thoughts of those affected directly by the horrid events with me to each event I participate in and on each run I take.  They will be a reminder to me that this very moment is the only one that we are promised.  Not one of us knows just how long we will be here on this beautiful earth.  We have the responsibility to live genuinely and compassionately, to live out our moments to the fullest. 

I eagerly look forward to the day when I too cross the finish line in Boston.  I have yet to qualify for this race...I've done seven marathons to date and was about 15 minutes shy of qualifying (quite a bit :)) in the race I PR'ed in (September 2012).  I've still got a lot of work to do!  Thoughts of Boston have inspired me long before these events ... since the summer of 2009 when I started training for my first marathon.  The Boston Marathon has been a goal for countless runners for longer than I even know.  I'm confident that the race and the Boston community will only be made stronger after this year.  I have a feeling that there will be many runners, like myself, who are feeling an even stronger fervor to train and qualify.  Together, we will continue to show the world the strength the running community possesses.  We won't give up on ourselves, each other or on our dreams.  And we certainly won't stop running.