Marathon Monday 2016

Just like three years ago, I am staying up late typing about my Boston marathon experience at 10:30 at night. The difference is that this time, I am not pouring over CNN news and grieving all the tragic events of the day.  

Today is what everyone here calls the happiest day in Boston as most people are off work for Patriot's Day, and the city bursts with pride with the Red Sox game and the iconic Boston Marathon.  I love that I got to have a chance to come back and be a part this Boston spirit once again. 

 

Mary Price gave me an amazing gift of getting up early on her first day of spring break to be my personal escort to the start of the marathon.

 

Since I wore a dress in Boston 2013 dressed up as Dorothy, I thought it was only appropriate to don this running dress. A bit more subtle this time, but still a bit fun to wear a little black dress. :) 

I felt prepared for this race and had trained hard. The last week of tapering had been a good break so that I felt well rested for the day today.  My sleep had been great for the last few nights, and I'd been careful about my nutrition.  I had followed a solid training plan written up by a fabulous physical therapist in Seattle who has been a great coach over the last 4 months.And when I started off, it felt good. I was moving right along and was careful to not go out too fast- keeping the first half of the race between 8:00 and 8:15 pace.  Three weeks ago, I had done my last 20 mile run just around that pace feeling strong so this seemed like a safe call.  

But then things started to fall apart for me early on at mile 11. My legs started cramping up like they have at the END of marathons, but I was not even half way done. I pushed through these for a few miles without changing my times too much, but then after that, I had to slow it down because the cramps kept getting worse. They spread from both my calves to my quads and the muscle spasms kept pulsing through my legs nonstop.  While my arms were moving to try to keep up the pace, my legs were just not able to keep up and I had to slow it down. I realized at this point that this was not going to be a day for a PR.  

I kept on through the hills of Newton and up Heartbreak Hill at mile 20, and they kept getting worse.  I have never walked in a marathon before-- not because of pride so much as the fact that if I were to walk, I was worried that I would not be able to run again and would cramp up even more. But because this was so bad and I'd been battling this for 10 miles already, I decided to try to stretch at mile 21 to see if it would get any better. I pulled over the side of the course and held on to the blockade to stretch my calf, and I felt stuck like the Tin Man in Wizard of Oz.  I locked up and could barely move it out of the stretch position I had tried.

And at this point, a stranger walked up to me and put her hand on my shoulder asking me if I was okay. I explained what was going on and she said the exact thing had been going on for her. She told me that she had gone to the medical tent to get some help with the cramping. After they warmed her up with some blankets and gave her some cramping medicine, they asked if she wanted them to massage her legs. She was worried that if she got on the table that she would never be able to get back on the course. With that, she left the tent without the massage and tried to walk it out. That's when she spotted me.

 And then, the most remarkable thing happened. 

For the next 5 miles, this bubbly woman named Leslie Owens and I kept each other going and stayed together to the finish.

We took turns picking spots ahead of us and running to them with our cramped legs, and then we  would walk for a bit until the other would pick the next spot to run to.  And all this time, the Boston spirit was amazing. We were cheered for as if we were elite runners even though we were only able to shuffle along because our legs were shutting down.

We shared stories and encouraged each other. At this point, we had thrown out our ambitions of the times we had hoped for, and we both knew that it just didn't matter.  We made a promise that we would try to soak all the amazing spirit in together on this home stretch.  We even took a few selfies with the Citco sign in the background which is a sign to all runners that the end is near.  Why not!?

I told her about my experience in Boston in 2013 and how I had come to a place after that experience that the only faithful response I knew was one of gratitude.  And here was another opportunity to express that. My run could be a sacrament- an outward and visible sign of inward and spiritual grace. 

I also told her about Jason and about his amazing grit and grace he has shown over the last 2 1/2 years with the job saga. He has faithfully put one foot in front of the other, and he has not given up. In this race, he was my muse, and I kept putting one foot in front of the other following in his footsteps all the way to the finish line.

What mattered was that in these last 5 miles, even though these were not the circumstances that we would have picked, we could choose gratitude. We could choose joy. 

When we got to Boylston Street, it was absolutely amazing to hear the cheers and to see that finish line. It was emotional to be running down that street knowing what had transpired here in 2013. I also realized that if I had felt like this 3 years ago and had struggled this much then that I would be in the exact time when the bombs went off. 

  I ran that last stretch with a smile as wide as the sky giving thanks for the gift of this day and the gift of this amazing woman that God put in my path at mile 21 to help me to choose joy all the way to the finish. 

Leslie was the answer to the prayer prayed over me at Trinity Church yesterday:

"Run well my friends, May your minds find focus. May your heart overflow with joy. may angel wings make fleet your feet. May the winds of the sublime billow your lungs. May you rejoice in the fellowship of your companions. May you fight the good fight, remain faithful, and finish the race." 

 I did get to meet her boyfriend and her aunt after the race which was reassuring that she was a real person as I was suspicious that she might just sprout wings at any moment. 

I also got to experience the amazing Boston spirit after the race that I never had seen in 2013. When I finished then, there were only a few moments of celebration at the end until all hell seemed to break loose. This year, the sun was out, so many people were cheering and celebrating, and the city had a feel that we all were part of a big happy family. Boston's resilience and strength is one that I will always hold dear.

                                       getting to see my friend Tia from college today after the race!