You often see people out running in their bright yellow Marathon Maniacs shirts. On the outside, they look and appear normal.
But looks can be deceiving. These people don’t just pick out these shirts because they’re stylish; they run some ungodly amount of marathons to earn the right to join the “InSane AsyLum.”
Well, guess what?
You got that right. I have joined the ranks.
The wind was miserably COLD as me and 20+ thousand other runners waited for our race to start. My nerves were getting the better of me as I wondered if the increased downhill would do me in. I tried to quell the apprehension with the reminder that I would take it easy and savor the race. But, I couldn’t help but question whether I was prepared for this race or not.
After dropping off my bag, I joined the crowd and we walked toward the start. Although it remained blisteringly cold, the sun shone bright and energy was high. I held back my tears as I thought about what a long journey it has been to get here. Approaching the start, I looked all around me. Along side, in front, and behind were runners from all over the world. Lining the course on either side was a sea of spectators. They were hootin’ and hollering for us!
My eyes began to well up again, and once again, I pushed back the emotion. It would not be the last time I’d hold back the flood of emotion. This occurred many times along the course.
Reflecting on all that I’ve been through in the past 9 years. A combination of good, bad, and ugly…a new home, numerous injuries, and dying loved ones. And through it all, I somehow managed to continue on.
The heat from the sun and the warmth of the spectators helped me leave the chilly feeling of the morning behind. The tearfulness continued to pop up here and there: In the scream tunnel of Wellesley, while leaving the hills of Newton, when the famed CITCO sign came into view, and as I made the final turn onto the straightaway to the finish. Different from the tears of marathons’ past, these tears, brought on by the cheer of the crowd, were tears of a different kind.
On a rainy afternoon in Cambridge, MA and I got the pleasure of meeting some amazing women runners who would take to the starting line ahead of me. One had her sights on achieving US Olympic trail qualification, another on winning her age group, and still another on running well with less than a week out from taking a nasty spill on her bicycle. We chatted about all things running and enjoyed the fabulous spread provided by my host for the weekend and his new love.
The new qualification standards for the Boston Marathon were among the topics discussed and, one runner had a particularly interesting view on the topic. She felt that we, as humans, set limits on ourselves by chasing a specific number. Suggesting that the simple placement of some arbitrary set of qualification standards may automatically be causing us to chase a goal far less than we are truly capable of. Citing world records of the past that, while once seemed impossible, are no longer so impressive.
Isn’t funny that just a day later, Geoffry Mutai of Kenya would blow past all prior records with his finish of 2 hours, 3 minutes and 2 seconds? His performance speaks to the topic of discussion. Contrary to what is being printed, he most certainly was not “propelled by a tailwind.” He was propelled by hard work and a belief that he could achieve more than anyone previous to him. As for that downhill course, I don’t think you’ll find many, if any, marathoners who will say that the downhill course is easy. It’s downright grueling.
I’ve been giving the idea of limitations some brain-time this week. Never in these past many years of marathoning would I have considered running two marathons so closely spaced together. Yet, here I am preparing to do just that.
IF I were to let my mind suggest other things previously thought impossible, I might entertain running a course-PR or running under 4 hours. I know, I know, it’s crazy-talk but I sometimes let my mind go there. I must admit, it feels good to let it run through my body. It may be inconceivable, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.
After a bit of night time reading, I fell asleep dreaming of Boston. 
I guess it’s no surprise, after 9 years of chasing down this goal, that I have quite the collection of tid bits on the race. Last night’s article from the March/April 2000 issue of Marathon & Beyond was on recovering from Boston. It noted the excessive downhill of the race, something I must admit that I am not as prepared for as I’d like. Not surprisedly, the article also went into a long bit on injuries. The main point of the article, however, stressed the importance of having a post-race plan to minimize the feeling the blues and and losing focus after leaving the Patriot’s Day hype.
I awoke to find my usual smattering of SPAM and greetings from folks in far off places (listed in order of deletion, not importance). And of course, in the mix was a few treasures: emails from you, my dear readers. I treasure these. Did you know that? My comments and blog love mean so much.
The connections I’ve made over the years after my entry into the wonderful world of blogging has been phenomenal. We share so much with each other that it’s sometimes hard to believe that we’ve never actually met. And when we do meet, it’s fabulous! She Do Run Run, Greg F, Runner Susan, Magazine Smiles, Debbra, Running Stitch and the Family Stitch, Mia Goddess, 21st Century Mom, and The Amazing Hip: Wouldn’t you agree? If I’ve left you off the list, I assure you it was in error. Give a shout out, please.
This morning, I was greeted with a bit of Boston remembrance from long-time reader, Vince. Reading this email brought tears to my eyes. Yes, I am a blubbering fool. I immediately wrote back to thank Vince and ask his permission to share with you.
Vince is not a blogger…yet. I’ve been working on him for years. Anyhow, every so often he sends me wonderfully written pieces of advice, encouragement, and what-have-you’s.
This “Boston primer” was one that just had to be shared. If you have one you’d care to share as well, please feel free to post in the comments field. Alternately, you can email me: julskeepingpace@me.com
And now….
With Boston 6 weeks away, it’s hard not to get hung up on the training hiccups I’ve been experiencing. Although I have done one 18-mile training run, it has been nearly a month since I’ve had a good long run. Trying not be discouraged, I let my body rest and head out for a test run only to hear my body telling me to walk. As a result, I’ve done a whole lot of walking.
It’s sad but true. This Boston Qualified runner hit her BQ only to plummet to an all time low point in her running career. It’s not exactly how I pictured me post-achievement. Then again, nothing has quite manifested quite how I pictured it.
Last weekend’s trail long-run-turned-long-walk was just one a few consecutive weekend long runs gone awry. Injury, coupled with BoBo’s BMT graduation, had resulted in a run-free week. I’m growing antsy and eager for some pain-free running or, at a minimum, a good hard workout. I cannot sit idol any longer; I want to sweat. Correction: I NEED to sweat.
