Boston Marathon 2019: Lucky #7

Boston Marathon 2019. Lucky number 7 for me. (7 Boston's, I have done a few other marathons here and there.)

This is one of the only times I have gone into this race without my BQ for the following year already in the bag.
Years ago, I randomly decided that I really wanted to qualify for, and run, 10 consecutive Bostons. Kind of an arbitrary goal, but isn't that the way goals are sometimes? Anyway, Boston 2020 (#8) was most definitely NOT locked down yet, and I was certainly feeling some self imposed pressure.

Eric and I were walking down Boylston on Sunday evening, while looking at the forecast for the next day. The prediction was holding steady from the day before- temps rising from 60-70 during my race hours, humidity, possible thunderstorms, maybe some rain, or some sun, or some wind who knows!!! I had received no fewer than 3.2 million texts wishing me luck in "the sauna". I was like "Eric! I have to go for it, I can't mess around. You think I can do this, right?" And he like, snorted and said "duh, of course you can." So the plan remained intact, run BQ pace for as long as possible. Do or Die.

We were awakened early on Monday by a fire alarm. While it did not affect our floor, Ellie woke up quickly and needed to go out, and then she and Eric were stuck in the lobby for close to 40 minutes. I was glad that I stayed put in the room, as I was able to putter along and get ready according to plan. Just as Eric returned, a huge thunderstorm blew through Boston.
This is a first for Marathon day (for me, anyway.) It was pretty exciting, although I was glad to hold off on hiking to the bus until it had let up.

This is the thunderstorm

I had originally planned to dress in 19 layers of winter clothing, to avoid frostbite in the village. That ended up being completely unnecessary, as it was both warm and humid. I chucked on a couple bonus layers, my trusty muck boots, and (umbrella in hand) I headed off into the storm!!!

Ellie and I ARE READY TO BRAVE THE STORM

I hopped onto lucky bus #15 (as one does) and enjoyed the LONGEST RIDE EVER (in the HOTTEST BUS EVER!!) I was lucky to make friends with a super nice woman from NYC, and we passed the time chatting and sticking our heads out the window to stay cool (not really.) It was just a really long trip this year. I was on the bus at 8:06, and off of the bus at 9:26. Not a problem at all, but pretty rare.
(I have never been on the bus for more than an hour.)

I MADE IT TO HOPKINTON! And it was warm and not raining.

Athlete's village was an absolute delight compared to last year. I mentioned to my bus friend that I expected the rain to finish up before we arrived, and it did! The clouds were still quite ominous, and it was cool-ish. I stood in bathroom lines, and ate some food, and my feet stayed nice and dry in my huge boots.

Pics of potty lines are critical

It was not long at all until my wave was called for corral loading. I was not in the mood to procrastinate this year, because I wanted a few minutes to pee, and get my kit in order. So I actually left the village on time, possibly for the only time in my life.

Off we go!

On the walk into town, the clouds began to break up, and the temp began to rise in a very noticeable way. I was sad to part with my too big boots, but it was time!

Bye big boots

I had become nervous in the morning, and had applied a layer of sunscreen but was uneasy that in the following hours (and sweating in the bus, and pulling layers off) that it easily could have rubbed off. So who do I find? A wonderful fellow Mainer, who was also running for Crow, who knows me on the Insta (as Ellie's mom!) who had a tube of sunscreen and was happy to share (spoiler: this was a LIFE SAVER.) (and hi Leslie!! Thank you and congrats on a great race!)

Due to my mindful planning, I made it into Corral 1 with two whole minutes to spare. Impressive!!

Down to bare min clothing at the start.... Not always a great sign.

 I felt good from the start. Really good. The snap that I hope to feel in my legs after a nice taper was right there, and I felt ready to roll. Oh, and it was humid AF. Like a dripping mess. I kept thinking "wow, we need a puff of wind" and right on cue, a little puff of wind would come along. This gave me the amusing notion that I was somehow in charge of my climate zone, like in a little bubble of magic. This was quite cheering.

I stopped to pee at mile 7 because I can not not pee. It took me an actual 5 seconds. NBD. This was the only time I stopped for bodily functions. (YAY!)

Here's the thing. At mile 10 I knew it was my day. WHO KNOWS WHY THIS WAS, THERE WAS STILL SO MUCH RACE LEFT! But in my mind, I knew it was going to happen. I did not care that the sun had come out in absolute blazes (WHAT?) I totally ignored how warm I was. (and it WAS warm- close to 70.) I was running calmly, and still was running with a healthy buffer for the second half of the race.

Yes. I came in with a solid plan to positive split. I have run this course enough to know how to manage the miles to meet my needs. Even on a day when I feel good, I plan to add several minutes to the back half of the course. (because it is a bitch. and because, let's be real, I'm just not that strong! Fuck it. I get it done.)

I came into the half with a nice bit of time to play with. 1:42:37. This, absurdly had me not just on a BQ pace, but a borderline PR pace. I was like, "hahah woman, nope. today is NOT that day!" (and this was not self sabotage, but an honest reminder to myself about my current fitness, the weather, and realistic expectations. I came to run a 3:37 not a 3:25.)

At mile 17 I shouted a text to my Dad. "MILE 17 104 PM. RUNNING WELL, THIS WILL NOT BE A LONG STOP." Poor Lee drives 8 gazillion miles, and then he and my Aunt and Uncle set up camp by Chestnut St to see me for 12 seconds. I felt bad! But with the sun beating down on me, I thought an epic crash could possibly happen and I needed the banked time safely in hand. I had sent in a pre-order for chapstick (I was desperate for it)

Thank heavens for Lee's chapstik!

So I basically cruised though my mile 18.2 pit stop in a complete flurry.

Hi Lee. Bye Lee.

Everyone was like "GO GO GO!!!" And it was very exciting. So off I went! (literally, 16 seconds later)

GO GO!!!

At mile 19 my body decided, rudely, that it had had enough gel, enough water, enough sun, and enough running and it was going to be sick. I'm like, "body, you are NOT." I began to calculate exactly how much time it would take me to barf and get going again. I did not like how the numbers looked, so I shut it down. ALSO. ALSO, you don't want to be the person who blows chunks on heartbreak hill. That is just wrong. I decided that that when I felt super sick, I would keep running but keep my mouth shut and tread gently. And when I felt better, I would speed up! This was a good plan, and it kept me going (although, in a rather heater skelter way) until mile 23 when I suddenly felt better. YAY! Feeling better is the best.

So, barfy feelings left behind, I decided to finish the damn race.

Shockingly (especially since I really had not been able to eat since mile 16 or so) my legs were feeling good. I was poaching a bit in my own sweat, but I had hiked up my singlet and had been dumping cups of water on my torso for quite some time. (I was very *moist* GROSS.) But I was happy.
I was happy to have had a great race on a day when the weather easily could have messed me up. Or, messed with my head.
I was happy that I was going to BQ again, and with a "safe" amount.
I was happy to have enjoyed almost every mile!
I was very happy that I had not succumbed to a fit of violent vomiting.
And MOSTLY I was happy that I was close to the finish, and would be able to get an extra extra large ginger ale, with extra ice. I had been thinking about that since mile 20, and I was SO SO thirsty that I never thought I would not be thirsty again. I could not stop imagining the deliciousness of a ginger ale. (I get a weird ginger ale craving after certain long runs. Clearly, this was one fo those runs!)

As I cruised down Boylston, I was able to pick it up for one last "sprint" (haha.) I heard my name being called, and saw Eric, Evan and Ellie waving to me! I was so happy to see them!

YAYYYYYYYYYY!!!!

I finished and went all weird hands-on-knees gasping for air ugly crying. This is the kind of behavior that beckons the medics, but I assured them that I was fine.

AND I HAD DONE IT. 3:30:38, my BEST Boston time Ever!!!!!!

I was 100% delighted

I was tired. THIRSTY, SO THIRSTY. Salty. Definitely not jogging to the family meeting area like last year. I was pooped, I had left everything out there. I ran a much better race than I thought I could. I refused to let the heat, or the hills, or anything get in my head. When it got tough, I refused to stop. And I was pretty exhausted because of that. But happy. VERY happy.

And believe it or not, I saw Mainer/sunscreen goddess Leslie again! I babbled incoherently to her about lord knows what. Marathons make me even more verbose than normal. And dumb.

And go figure, by the time I made it to meet Eric (and Elle, and Evan) clouds had rolled in (and 30 minutes later, it was raining! CRAZY.)

My babykins. Too big to hold post marathon!

The 3 of us humans, and one of us dogs, walked the one magical block to the hotel. Evan immediately collected a giant, icy gingerale for me (which I drank in one big gulp.) And I babbled to Eric for a solid 40 minutes about my whole day! I took a painful, blistery, chafey (but NOT sunburney!) shower and then proceeded to lie in bed for 90 minutes, drinking endless ginger ales and eating the Kings Hawaiian sweet rolls that we get in the finishers snack bags. I love those stupid things.

Then, so as not to spend the rest of the day in bed, we took a magical family walk (and the wind had picked up, and was all aggressive!)

My hot husband

Because we are bossy parents, we made Ellie pose on/with things.

Ducks!!

Big trees!!

So that's a wrap! What a great Boston experience. I'm extremely happy to have secured my spot for next year, (and it's a weight off my mind, to be honest.)

I'm very happy with this race, and felt that I did my best in many ways. It's races like this that remind me why I work hard to get here in the first place! See you in 2020, Boston.

Bradbury Mountain Breaker, 2018 edition

So. The very day after Eric and I completed the Franconia Ridge Loop at a brisk pace, we had the Bradbury Breaker to deal with.

I fondly remembered this event as being my favorite of 2017. Despite the almost constant trip up the little mountain, it was so much fun that I had been looking forward to it for ages.

Since I have run basically not at all this summer, I had low expectations. Hiking 8.8 miles the previous day might not have been a great choice, but I had concluded that it simply would not make any difference. I had zero expectations (I think I ran about 20 miles in July. Total.)

We got up early, and discovered that it was the coolest day in a while! (this summer has been a boiling, humid, m***t, clusterfuck.) So it was like, 69 and 200% humidity (basically almost raining.) Regardless, it was certainly a lot cooler than most days have been.

My only mission for these races is to have fun, and FINISH, as I am determined to collect my Bad Ass sweatshirt in September, when we complete the 12 mile race. I figured that even if I had to walk to the finish, I would be stubborn enough to make it to the end, tired legs be damned. (Really, maybe I should set a more impressive goal. Like winning! But, nope.)

There is a good reason to go on a big hike the day before a *race*.
You have a built in excuse to suck! I woke up that morning feeling pretty decent, although a little creaky. I was certain that by mile 0.5 my legs would be laughing at me.

Eric and I arrived barely on time (yay! returning to my roots! we literally had 10 minutes!)

Pre race. So dry. So lovely. 

We immediately bumped into the woman who we ran the entire Bradbury 12 miles with last year (random) It was kind of dreary (perfect) And we all started and set off to conquer the hill. (winning)

Casual stroll to the start

We were off! And go figure. I felt just fine. I should avoid training more often!!
(also, the course begins on a really nice stretch of wide, flat, super safe dirt. So nice!)

Not a technical stretch of trail

SHOCKINGLY, I felt good enough in the beginning to break away from the big pack of runners. I remember from last year, that once you turn onto the Boundary Trail it is better not to be in a ton of traffic.

I spent the first couple miles of the race with a pack of dudes. For a while it seemed that they were going to make a move, and leave me to eat their dust (although it was too humid to be dusty.) While I'm not much of a trail runner, I do seem to have skills/bravery/stupidity on the downhills and I was able to rein some of them in.

BYE. See you in a mile or two though. 

I did feel fairly unimpressive up the actual mountain part of the course (which you hit twice.) It is more of a walk/slog for me (but I was happy not to have a 14 pound backpack!)

This does kind of suck, tbh

I felt exceedingly good for many miles of this race. I ran alone for a LONG time, which did not bother me at all. I enjoyed the peace and quiet, I was really confident in the course because I ran a ton at Bradbury last year, AND there are helpful signs if you go astray.

You will not get lost, thanks to Mr. T

With a mile to go (most of it straight DOWN) I got my hustle on. I was having a good time, and even though my feet were starting to hurt I kicked up the pace. The quicker you get done, the faster the feet can quit complaining.
I finished in 1:41 which is 6 or so minutes better than last year. Who knows why or how. (mostly because I just went for it. fuck training!)

THEN, I won my age group which was delightful and a nice surprise. I was awarded my favorite socks (darn tough!) and one of my favorite summer beers (Baxter Bootleg Fireworks)

I drank one right off. #health

Eric and I were both so sweaty that it looked like we had been swimming. Gross.

EWWWWW. We were much grosser than this pic would lead you to believe

We had a super fun time catching up with friends, talking about our real jobs and good adulting and how I won a chair at the last race and was not there to get it. Shit. (and we took no group pics. so dumb.)

So anyway. It was really a great day of running, and I loved it, and can not wait for the September race (which I have both no time and no intention of training for, hah!)

Boston Marathon 2018: The one with the weather!

AND JUST LIKE THAT IT WAS MARATHON MONDAY!!!

We all awoke to the sounds or rain pitter pattering down. Or, coming down in wind driven buckets, if you want to know the truth.
I don't mind running in the bad weather, so I continued to be unconcerned. I got about my business of eating (starting with toast and coffee and water) and packing (everything) and then getting dressed.

You can't control the weather, but you certainly can control how much the weather can actually hit your body. I did not want this weather hitting my body at all. Who cares about looking *cute* in race pics, when hypothermia is lurking every time you pause to grab a cup of water!?

No thanks. I was thinking of capris (when the forecast called for temps in the high 40's) but Sarah sent me back in for full length tights. A very solid choice.
I had been keeping a close eye on the forecast, and as race morning approached the day was looking to be both wetter, winder and close to as cold as Hyannis. The big difference would be the lengthy wait in athlete's village, where in Hyannis we walked out of the warm hotel and started immediately.
I wasn't worried about the potential weather, but I was mindful of the potential challenges and hazards, and wanted to be prepared.
(as it turned out, the temp at the start was 33, and 39 at the finish. Basically Hyannis 2.0)

And prepared we both were!
We both got all dressed up. Nobody would be hitting the med tent today, damnit!!!

Dressed for Success

As we walked to the start we did things that all elite runners do. We live facebooked. We stopped for donuts. We laughed hysterically when the wind blew so hard that my umbrella turned inside out (0.2 miles into our walk to the busses.) The whole thing was a riot. I have never seen such ridiculous weather the morning of a marathon, but I certainly embraced it as a gigantic adventure.

OH NO, DOOM!!!

Sarah and I parted ways when she had to drop a bag of winter clothing for the finish, and I needed to skedaddle to get on my bus. (as it turned out, we were on the road at very similar times, as I found myself in a very long security line.) While I was wading through shoe deep puddles to get to the bag inspection check point, my Dad called. "I was just out for a walk" he said "AND IT WAS RAINING." I agreed with his observation, as it was raining so hard at that point that I could hardly hear him on the other end of the phone. We laughed and laughed, because it was just a bit too much!
My Dad planned to wander out to check on the elites as they ran by, and see if there were crowds in Newton. At that point, not so much!

Mile 18.5, shortly before the Elite runners arrived. Deserted. 

So, onto the bus I went. Where I immediately met someone who knew one of my Uncles. Small world interactions seem to be my thing while marathoning this year. I also ate a bacon and butter English muffin, which was delicious, and I had some water. #hydration
I arrived at Athlete's village to find standing water, piles of snow, and impressive mud. There seemed to be more tents this year, which was smart. There were a few people complaining about how "I spent so much money on this and expect better, blah blah" (overall though, this was the only complaining that I witnessed) but I went and found some fun people sitting on a pallet under a half collapsed gatorade tent. They were a realistic group, who seemed to understand that (while they are good) the BAA doesn't actually have control over the weather. We all had a good chuckle, as we struggled to put on dry socks and such while avoiding taking a dive into the mud.
(then a volunteer came over and yelled at us because he thought we had knocked the tent down. We were like  .....nope, it was the 40 mph wind....." sorry.....?)

Athlete's village, at its finest

I can't really put into words how much of a struggle it was to get race ready while I was preparing to get into my corral. (while it was sleeting heavily, very heavily.) (also, FIRST WORLD problems!!)  I was attempting to remove my snow pants, while staying under the cover of my giant poncho. I was also attempting to transfer the items from my sloth fanny pack, into the pockets of my innermost layer for safe keeping. My innermost layer happened to be about 3 layers down. And I was operating blind, because of the giant, blowing poncho. The whole scene must have looked truly ridiculous! BUT! Because of my amazing layering system I started the race warm, dry, and happy. Oh, and I also ate a whole PB&J while doing the weird "changing under a plastic poncho" dance.
There was a woman standing beside me while I struggled out of my gear. She was in a singlet and shorts, and was violently shivering. I offered her my discarded items, which she refused. She appeared to be absolutely miserable, and the sight of her discomfort made me glad that I had layered up. (and sad that she would not take my coat, I tried to insist that she take it but she wanted nothing to do with me. And since I looked like a crazy bag lady, her reaction was probably legit.)

I began the race with a plan to run a 3:40, which I thought might be ambitious since it was a day with a truly incredible headwind. However, I felt really confident in my abilities to run in sub par conditions, and I had a solid attack plan.
So off I went.

It barely even looks windy here. It was.
And it was pouring.

There was a lot of water falling from the sky. I wear glasses. I try to keep them kinda dry, since being able to see is a real perk. I was wearing a brimmed hat (with an attractive winter hat over it) which usually keeps the precipitation off my face. Due to the wind, there was shit flying everywhere so I took to studiously studying the yellow line of the road in an attempt to shield my face. (that is all I saw, the whole way to Boston!)

Right before mile 1, I pulled off the road and removed all my "final" layers. Good bye poncho, good bye sweatshirt, see ya ugly purple yoga pants. (and pro tip here: discarding layers to the SIDE of the road is courteous to other runners, respectful of the town you are running through- as volunteers at the aid stations can easily rake them up- and generally good race etiquette. Later in this you will see a pic of Hereford St coated in discarded clothing which is pretty sloppy. (I think we are better than that!!)

Anyway. I was down to my race kit (2 hats, long sleeve shirt, vest, full tights, huge gloves) and ready to roll. I felt good and running was pleasant. It was raining very hard but once you are soaked you can't really get wetter, so it was all good. Oh, and it was windy. But it is always windy in Maine so I tried to keep up a good attitude about the situation. I ran through the 10k in just over 50 minutes, which I was very happy with.

At mile 8 I scooted into a potty for a pee break (it was so nice and dry! I thought about procrastinating a bit, but porta potties are gross) At this time, I left my soaked gloves, dried my hands, put on a fresh pair of gloves (that I had carried in a baggie in my pocket) and dropped hand warmers into them. Refreshed, I ventured back into the storm and zipped along. Part of my attack plan was staying warm enough to be able to successfully eat a syrup packet every 5 miles. Thus far, the plan was working. (and continued to, even though my hands were uselessly cold at times.)

At the half way point (where I died and began to walk last year) all systems were good. My hands were again soaked, and beginning to freeze but there's nothing that can be done about that. Due to my layering system, my core was nice and warm, and as long as that stays warm, it's all good. My 13.1 split was 1:47:27 which was great, especially since I wasn't sure how much my stops had impacted my goal time (not at all.)

Typically between the half and where I see my Dad, and family (at mile 18.5) I hit a low spot. For whatever reason, I did not this year. It could be because after having a pretty gross race last year, everything felt easier! (the weather certainly was more in my favor this time, no doubt.) Also, I could only stare blindly at the road in front of me (it was REALLY coming down at this point!) so I missed more than half of the mile markers.
The miles were really flying by. Things were feeling steady, and controlled.
Right about this time, my Dad sent me a pic of the eventual male winner....

Good shot, Lee

There's a huge, huge downhill somewhere after mile 15 which can indicate how your quads are holding up. I motored down the thing, thanking my downhill workouts all the while! (spoiler: my quads were in excellent form for this race. this is the only time that I have ever run Boston and NOT felt like an asshole after the Newton Hills. Apparently, downhill reps are the key.) (as is a cold day.)

As is normal, I made up some songs. I was pretty hungry, and really disgustingly wet at this point which inspired my version of "My Favorite Things"

"Dreams of hot showers, and fresh ramen noodles,
my cozy slippers and warm snickerdoodles.....
a finish, no matter what the weather brings,
These are a few of MY DAMN FAVORITE THINGS!!!
When it's POURING!
And it's SLEETING!
I'm not feeling MAD!
I remember crap weather's my favorite thing!!
And then I don't feeeeeeel soooooooo BAD!!"
*truly the next Rodgers and Hammerstein right here, nbd*

Right on schedule at mile 18.5 I found my Dad, Aunt, Uncle and Cousin.

Pit crew!! So many umbrellas!!

 We did an outrageous two minute clothing change/addition (thank the lord that I will never be an elite. I need to be able to get help from the spectators!!)

I clearly found the whole event quite hysterical! Also, look at the RAIN!!

Freshly armed with new gloves, new handwarmers, arm sleeves and a good wringing out off I went again! (and under the protection of 3 umbrellas, I was able to avoid a very significant downpour!) Thank heavens for family and their preparedness!!
I also learned that Desi had won, and I was so happy! I wish I had put money on it, because as soon as I knew it was going to be a garbage weather day I called her to win it. She's such a great tactical runner, and it was a day for strategy.

And THEN, filled with confidence, I fucking motored my way to Boston.

OMG THE RAIN!!! Two hats, still on. 

I love having a good performance at this race. I know how easily your cheese can slide off your cracker in a marathon, and Jesus Christ am I GLAD when it doesn't slide off mine.
The damn miles FLEW by and I never got tired, or pissed off, or anything. It was fabulous (and wet)

I really enjoy running in the shit. I had a GREAT time.

So, after charging (unseeing) past all the quintessential Boston landmarks, high fiving Danielle at mile 25, and leaping over everyone's discarded damn clothing on Hereford I flew through the finish in 3:37:37. GO ME!

"Right, onto the street of discarded clothing...." *not my pic btw*

I attempted a joyful fist pump, but since my arms were frozen solid, I looked more like I was trying to fight someone. (with weird little hands, that were in fists due to #winter...)

DONE!!!!

I looked around and everyone seemed really cold, which made me nervous. It is a long, long way to the "B" meeting area (and 1.5 more miles to the Airbnb) and I continued to be uninterested in the hypothermia. (and I was beyond wet, just beyond) It was VERY cold-temps never got above the low 40's and the wind was silly.
So, after gathering my medal and heat sheet I did what any sensible human would do.

I. Kept. Running.

All the way to the meeting area I ran, straight into my family, and into a winter coat and MORE new gloves!!!! It was a wonderful moment and I was SO happy to see everyone! Eric, my Aunt Annie and Uncle Bill and Eric's cousin were all there to see me, and it was so fun! (they are brave/possibly crazy.)

Clearly a nice day

Despite the continued deluge, I was pretty happy.

So happy!!

Everyone hustled me back to the Airbnb as quick as we could go. My lips got pretty blue, but it was ok. Off with the frozen clothes, into a hot shower, and I was good to go!
Well, I think I was in the hot shower for a good half hour before I thawed. Best shower of my entire existence.

(and then I got out and ate all 4 of the King's Hawaiian buns that you get in the post race food bag. I love those things.)

THEN. Eric and I looked at the clock. It was 4:08. SHIT! Sarah was expected to finish just moments later, and there was NO way we would be able to get back to her through the crowds.
We did the next best thing, and watched her finish on live stream which was AMAZING!!!! So proud. She definitely is the MVP of the whole weekend!
And THEN I texted her to advise her to not be stubborn, and to Uber her way back (which she did, smart woman!)
As soon as she got back (and was undressed and showered in a manner similar to myself) we all collapsed into piles of joy about the day, and the rehashing and storytelling began.
And Danielle came over too!!!

Telling stories and taking pics to prove we were all there

The best part of any marathon is hearing everyone's stories, and after such a crazy day it was especially delightful.
We watched Desi's finish no fewer than 400 times.
We sprinted across the street in a complete deluge, for potato nachos and burgers.
We flopped back onto the couch, and continued the storytelling. And at about 9:00 got hungry again and had ice cream sundaes DELIVERED which was clutch. So amazing. What a day!

We also contemplated how much our sopping wet race clothing weighed.
I'm not sure what Sarah's sack weighed, but mine came to a cool 5.6 pounds (not counting shoes.)

Bag lady

There is NO way that any of us will forget this particular Marathon Monday. The weather was colder than it has been in 30 years. It was really, truly, a completely and utterly disgusting AND TOTALLY AMAZING day.

I would say it is official at this point. I am a runner who appears to thrive in cold, wet, challenging conditions. While it was not my fastest marathon, I have complete confidence that it was one of my best, if not my best. No pain, no exhaustion, no hitting a wall, no GI distress. AND, technically this was still a BQ race (although by a slim margin, but since I am already "in" for 2019, no worries.)

As always, a highlight was seeing friends and cheering them on. It was especially fun to share a living space with Sarah and family, Eric and I really enjoyed this and hope to for a repeat next year (when Sarah and Danielle claim to be spectating only... we shall see!)

There is NO way that I could do this without the support of my family and friends (running is a pretty time consuming and self indulgent sport, and would be next to impossible without an encouraging spouse/family.)
Eric was by my side for almost every long run and speed work session all season. This really took marathon training to a much more enjoyable place for me, as we had some hysterical conversations while running to the pub. We also had my cousin Evan join in for some mid winter training which was super.
Oh, and running to the pub (ahem: Bear Bones in Bridgton = quality marathon training beer) was a really fabulous and intelligent addition to the training routine. Why bother if it's not fun, right?
Both of my parents are huge supporters, my mom keeps me fed, and my Dad makes the trek to the race to see me for 90 seconds and bring me extra clothing!
My extended family is so wonderful, while it wasn't a great year to be a spectator I so appreciated everyones support. Whether you were there in person, or in spirit with texts and messages I was thinking of all of you along my way to the finish.

See you in 2019 Boston....

The conclusion of Duck Camp 2018

Late Summer Recap

It has been a while, quite a while since my last post .

(we all know that blogging really isn't a "thing" anymore, but I get a kick out of looking at my "three years ago" posts, and imagine I may feel the same way in three years from now...)

So anyway. 

When I last wrote, I had ridden my bike successfully, without dying, a handful of times. 

I still had not decided on the when/if of a fall marathon. 

I was dabbling in trail running. 

Since then, I have, for the first time since 2012 decided that a Fall marathon is not in the cards. I decided that I would begin to train when I got excited to hit some high mileage again. 

*needless to say, that did not happen*

There really was no agony, or soul searching involved. I simply decided that I LITERALLY could give ZERO fucks about running a Fall marathon, and so I didn't! 

Instead, I have been having a glorious time doing some different things. 

I am no longer afraid to ride my bike. This is a stunning accomplishment, and something I am really proud of. I love to ride the damn thing. 

Once a week. 

For no more that 25 miles at one time! (or 30... same thing)

I don't really have my own gear, so I wear Eric's

Believe it or not, I have participated in every Green Machine Wednesday Night ride (except one) since the last time I wrote. 

I moved up from the 12 MPH group to the 15 MPH group, and for the most part I feel that I can hold my own. (the confidence completely went out the window a couple weeks back, when the entirety of the 15 mph group dropped me like a bad habit with 3 miles to go. Apparently, they are fast, and I still have a long way to go before I can make an 18mph sprint to the end!) It's good to step far, far out of my comfort zone, have to work really hard to keep up, and to learn something new. 

I have been trail running SO much and (despite a couple of painful falls, that resulted in bloody body parts) I have been enjoying it tremendously.

Smiling on the summit

We can take a moment to talk about my coordination, or lack of. I have taken a couple wicked hahd diggahs, as we say in these parts. I have managed to get up, use my excellent equestrian first aid skills (pour some water on it, you're FINE!!) and move on. Also, Eric says that dirtbag runners always pack a cooler of beer (and ice) when adventure running, and those items have aided in my swift recovery.

Good LORD

I have no (current) plans to become the ultimate ultra trail runner. Really, who knows why I had a sudden need for dirt, mountains and trees. Regardless of the reason, I have been having some of the most fun running hours of my life this summer.

A Bradbury trail. NOT the O-trail...

Eric and I (and Danielle!!) ran the Bradbury Mountain Breaker (bruiser? broken legger?) in August and it was such a fine time. I took a wicked tumble, but finished very happy despite the final stretch of the course being near on to impossible to run. (word from the wise: the O Trail is not for the faint of heart!)

Crow athletics #teampink 

Typically, I would give you some stats about race pace, age group placement, etc.
I think I fell down so hard during this race that I can't remember any of it!!
Bad coordination strikes again. (and who falls down and cuts and bruises their CHEST??)

I do

Eric and I have been spending almost every Saturday afternoon running and mountain biking at Bradbury. We are fairly certain that it is the most fun you can have for $4 per person! 

We run and bike, light a fire and grill some food, enjoy nature and each others company. 

I have logged some serious trail running mileage. Similar to biking, it is something I really am a novice at, and I have a long way to go before I reach *expert* level.

Bradbury bridges

Eric and I, along with my sister on occasion, have also been enjoying the Friday evening "races" in Bethel at the Mahoosuc Pathways trail runs.
It is completely laid back. You toss $5 in a jar, line up (casually) and the woman who times the race suggests (at some point at.around 5:30) that "if you're ready, you can go!"
You then run about 3 or 6 miles on some really fun, not too hard trails. You come in to a blazing finish, and get discount beer! SO much winning.

Post trail race, the only night it wasn't HOT!

A couple years ago, I would have laughed SO hard if anyone told me I would spend a summer cycling and trail running. But there ya go. never say never. 

I think my running has always evolved into what I have needed it to be at the time. 

I have always said that if marathoning felt more like a chore than like fun, I would not do it. While that is how I felt this summer, I don't except that feeling to last. (and if it does, it does.) 

I plan to train for Boston 2018 to the best of my ability, and to run a strong race. 

Who knows what the future holds, right? I am lucky to be able to indulge in a hobby that is truly a luxury, and I appreciate every moment I spend in the outdoors running, hiking and biking. If marathoning forever is in the cards for me, I'll make it happen. If I need, or enjoy a change of pace, I'll go with the flow and enjoy those moments too.