Boston Marathon Part 2

Momenesia, as a mom of 4, I certainly understand momnesia. It is the feeling you get anywhere from 6 hours to 6 weeks post delivery. You suddenly forget the pain of labor and the discomfort of pregnancy and all you can remember is the beauty and the love of this adorable perfect creature that you created staring back at you and despite how many times you have sworn during pregnancy and perhaps screamed during labor pains, "I will never do this again, so don't even ask me" to your husband or partner you know that you might do it again. Because again, pain and discomfort is temporary, but the end result is permanent and worth all of the pain and the suffering in the world.

Why am I talking about childbirth and momnesisa in my marathon post? Because I have a new syndrome called Marathonesia. I suffer from it.

I have been a runner for 1 year of my 37 years now and of course I want my husband to cross that line and come run with me. He keeps protesting stating that he has no time, that he has a knee injury, blah, blah, blah, blah. Anyway, while we were discussing the merits of running the other night he told me that people either finish a marathon swearing they will never do it again or begging for more. I insisted that I would be begging for more.

Let me tell you that at heartbreak hill, I was screaming to myself, "I WILL NEVER DO THIS AGAIN!" It was so painful and long and disappointing. I was disappointed in myself that I could not run the whole way. I was disappointed in the marathon organizers that they had taken down all of the aid stations and tracking times and mileage signs earlier than they said that they would. I was angry that they let charity runners run and did not provide them with support. I was angry with the spectators that they only stayed to support and cheer runners than ran 12 minutes miles or less, there were more charity runners behind me lonely and alone doing this with no support and it made me mad and sad and frustrated.

I had been told, it will be incredible, the spectators get you through. The spectators were there in Hopkington and in Ashland, but once I got to Natick and I was still running about 1 14 mile pace there everyone had gone. Thank goodness for the Tufts gang that were there along with Nik and the kids to still cheer. The crews were cleaning up the water and aid stations, it was as if I did not matter, as if the money I had raised did not count because I was not fast enough. This was painful to experience and hurtful and I am sure some people might have dropped out of the race because of this. It was even difficult once I crossed into Wellesley to figure out which way the course went, but thankfully I followed the trash.

I had resigned myself that morning that I would not quit, I was going to do this. I got 52 texts of support and I had read every one of them and those words from friends and teammates and from facebook posts and the dream of seeing my kids at the finish would not let me quit, nothing mattered but finishing even if it was 10 at night even if I had to crawl. I WOULD NOT QUIT.

So, I kept going, alone and deep inside me, I keep thinking, I am never going to do this again. By the time I got to Boston College, I was severely dehydrated, I could feel the salt on my face, I had not gone to the bathroom or felt the need sine 8am and it was now 5pm or so, my phone was dead and there were no aid stations to be found. I suddenly thought that maybe I Should have brought money to buy water, and hoped that if I did collapse, some nice bystander would call 911 for me.

I found a bottle of water in the curb of a street and it was unopened, I normally would never do this, but when you are that thirsty, I had nothing to lose. I opened it and downed it. A few steps down the road there were cups of gatorade on the street left by some sympathetic water station. I sniffed to make sure no jokster BC students had spiked them and them downed a few. I finally began to perk up by Cleveland circle and then I met up with my friends and it all got a lot better from there.

What is the point of my rambling? MARATHONESIA. I was stunned when I finished and as soon as that medal was placed around my neck. Woosh, all of the pain, all of the suffering, all of the anger and the hurt feelings and the shame were replaced by bliss and pride and yearning. I was so thankful to my coach who waited for me and did not come looking for me, he had confidence that I would show.

I WANT TO DO MORE MARATHONS AND I WANT TO DO BETTER! I need to lose more weight, train harder, cross train more and improve my time. I will take 7 hours for my first one, but in two to three years Boston, I am coming back to get you and I plan on taking you in 5 hours and that is a promise. In the meantime I am going to start picking on some other marathons and races.

I experienced the "loserville" Boston marathon experience, I never got to hear the roar of the Wellesley College girls, I just ran over the confetti and signs on the course, I did not get to sample the fresh orange wedges handed out on the course, I just ran over the left overs. Next time I plan on being fast enough to experience it all!

I OFFICIALLY DIAGNOSE MYSELF WITH MARATHONESIA AND THERE IS NO CURE!

Boston Marathon Part 1

When you are facing something as historic, as legendary, as numbing as the Boston Marathon it is complicated. It plays with your mind. You wonder if you are dreaming. How did you get here? Is this real? I grew up in Providence, RI and my first introduction to the marathon was when I was a junior in high school and in photography class. My teacher was watching people running on tv. I asked what he was watching and he told me the Boston marathon. All I took from that was, wow how cool, they get the day off from school in MA??? My next experience with the Boston marathon were during post college years when I watched with admiration runners every year running through Boston. I always felt this longing in myself like something was missing, like I was missing. I wanted to run. I needed to run. I wanted to be like every runner out there. I needed to do this.

Years and Years and Years went by before I got my chance. Ok so the 2010 Boston Marathon will always go down for me as being one of the most incredible experiences of my life. Not because I got a number, not because I did it, not because of the beautiful day, not because I finished it, but because of the ending, it all started at mile 24 when my friends Josh and Cailin showed up to get me to the finish.

I ran what I call the "loserville" Boston marathon, I was too slow, when I got to Natick, Wellesley, Newton no one was there and no one cared. It was not until Brookline that the drunk brigade came to my rescue! The drunk residents of Brookline supported me and when I was tired of being serenaded by drunk people, I think at least 5 drunk men ranging in age from 25 to 45 grabbed my hand and serenaded me the Barrilow tune "Oh Mandy", my good friends and my kids rescued me!

When Josh and Cailin met me it all clicked, they walked me to the finish, I was jogging but they were walking, hmm I guess I was jogging pretty slow at that point and I don't know if I could have made it without them. They supported me and when I was feeling embarrassed they made me feel special, when I felt like a failure they made me feel like a marathoner!

We met up with my kids at Kenmore who were so excited to see me. They did not realize that I was one of the last finishers they did not care. They just saw me running and they were excited and proud and then I felt proud. I kept running and then all of a sudden I realized that they were running with me.

The streets were all still closed at this point and I felt like I was in a real race again.
We all ran together a right on Hereford and a left on Boylston. We were all running together down Boylston. My coach was there waiting for me. There were crowds cheering me and police and I was running to the finish and suddenly it was there and I crossed the finish line with my kids.

What a feeling, what a memory! I am still confused by what I did. Still in shock that I traveled through Hopkinton, Ashland, Natick, Framingham, Wellesley, Newton, Brookline into Boston, 26.2 miles all on foot.

I thought because I got there after the official timing had stopped that no one would care, no one would be there, I would not get a medal, but the support from the crowds running through Kenmore, running down Bolyston was incredible, everyone was cheering and yelling and clapping. One woman said to me the Charity runners are angels! It was remarkable.

I had prepared myself not to expect a medal, and I kept telling myself that it did not matter, but when I crossed the finished and I walked a few feet to one of the organizers and they placed a medal around my neck, I began sobbing. My name would not be in the paper or in the official records, because I was too slow, but I have my medal and I have my memories and most importantly, I have my pride. I did it! From couch to Boston marathon in one year!

12 days to go, hopes and fears

I have 12 days till I run my first marathon, I am in what is called the taper period. The time frame where you rest your body and fuel with good protein and carbohydrates and allow your muscles to repair and build oxygen supplies and get stronger. I feel ancy, like I need a good long run, but I am told that that is a healthy and natural feeling.
My running coach has been providing us with helpful information and advice. I have been trying to sit more and eat more protein and fight the urge to run 13 miles this weekend because I really would love to.
I can't believe I just said that, but it is true. Running for long runs is peaceful and makes you feel alive.
Emotionally I am not as zen. I am freaked out of my mind. Wondering if I can finish, wondering how badly it will hurt. Hoping to not have a heart attack, hoping for no terrible blisters or pulls along the way. Hoping that I can hydrate myself accurately and fuel myself so that my legs don't turn into cement between 18 and 20 miles.
I have deiced that no matter how I feel, I will smile and be polite to heartbreak hill, I will not curse and be miserable.
I have huge anxiety that I will be all alone running, the last one out of 16 thousand people making my way to Boston and thinking about how humiliating that will feel.
My biggest hope is that I will cross the finish line in under 7 hours.
My biggest fear is that I will have a heart attack and die along the way or get that scary over hydration problem where your brain swell, you get confused and then you die.
My absolute fear is that I won't finish.
Mu number is 26657, please come out to the race and cheer me on in Boston or track me.
I will have my cell phone so feel free to text me words of encouragement, my cell is 617-642-7667
I will try to tweet as well and that is mommymouseplans.
My oracle or running a member of my running team, a goddess of running and wisdom responded to me kindly when I asked her if I was Fu@$ed due to my training gaps, well yes and know, but stressed that it is all mental if you keep the mental in line you will be fine.
That has always been my overall strength. Being positive, staying positive and believing in the magic and wonder of dreams.
It has always been my dream to run the Boston Marathon and on Monday April 19, I plan on working my hardest to make that dream come true