Pre-Departure: Boston Marathon [April 18, 2005]

Oh yes I do! Running the 2005 Boston Marathon.

My first marathon ever was the Boston Marathon in 2000. I ran it as a "bandit" my senior year of college. I had never run a race of ANY kind and my training regime was a testament to that: while I worked hard and had a decent aerobic base from the previous soccer season, my longest run was a mere 16 miles (recommended is 19 to 22) with successive long runs falling off pretty quickly thereafter. And I only trained for 2 months. To give you a sense of my mind set, I only thought of running the marathon after a friend told me she had been training for it. "You should come!" she said. "...Okay," I replied - like we were going to Mocon to get a tuna sandwich.

I was such a neophyte I actually called the Boston Athletic Association and told them I hadn't paid to register nor did I qualify but, and this is a direct quote, "Would it be okay if I just come up there and run it anyways?" To which they responded, "No." "Well, that's not what I was hoping to hear," I replied. After an extended awkward silence I said something to the effect of "See you in two months," and promptly hung up in the phone.

But frankly, that's how I needed to approach my first marathon. I wasn't disciplined enough to to appropriately train for an endurance event and I'm glad I didn't force myself to overtrain; I would have become burnt out, frustrated and bored. This was my introductory class to the mind of an endurance athlete.

But if I didn't have understanding of a marathon, I did have respect for it. In fact, I could think of few things that were more challenging than running 26.2 miles. I mean... 26.2 miles!? Check please! That was an unconsciounable distance to run. I'd rather visit the dentist the first sunny Saturday in spring.

Moreover, I was a soccer player - I was creative. I'm slow to admit it, but in my heart of hearts I'd never elevated competitive transportation (ie. running, swimming, cycling, etc.) to a sport; they hovered somewhere above golf which hovered somewhere above race car driving which hovered somewhere above competitive drooling.

As predicted, the marathon was challenging. While running there were times I asked myself, "Why am I doing this to me!?" But I never stopped. It was important to me not to - I'd been through a difficult time my last year of college and running the marathon was symbolic of my commitment to get through the challenges I faced in my personal life. I thought if I could finish a marathon, maybe I could get through that other stuff too.

The most difficult part of the race came at about mile 21. After I cruised up "Heartbreak Hill", a long series of inclines that began around mile 17, I didn't see a friend who was waiting for me at the top. Suffice to say it was disheartening not to see her and to be at the finish alone, slightly delirious. That it was standing room only on the T didn't help.

I did finish the marathon that day, though I was exhaused physically and emotionally. When all was said and done, it took me over 4 hours to do. Not bad, considering. If I wanted to qualify for this thing, however, I'd need to shave an hour off my time. An hour.

5 years later: After a nearly successful attempt at the zen-like Avenue of the Giants marathon through the redwoods of Humboldt California, I ran the Chicago Marathon on October 10th, 2004 qualifying for Boston. I had trained for nearly a year and a half. It felt incredibly to stumble across the finish line and fall into one of my best friends arm's, who had finished the last mile and a half with me. Between you and me, I bet I could knock some minutes off my PR. But, for today, 3:08 is fine by me!

My second Boston Marathon this past April was - incredibly - more painful. I was sick the day of the event. If I wasn't going off to South Africa this fall, I would have deferred my qualification time to 2006. But the Boston Marathon was the primary reason I hadn't left for the Peace Corps yet.

My body shut down at mile 14. ...Mile 14! That means there were 12.5 miles left! It was humbling to start walking, then jogging - in that pathetically-courageous way marathoners can - so soon in the marathon. I don't think I had ever stopped to walk before, not even after I hit the wall at the Avenue of the Giants.

However, this time I knew there were people waiting for me at the finish. I like to say that if it wasn't Boston I wouldn't have started that day, and if my family wasn't there I wouldn't have finished. I can't think of a statement closer to the truth.

It's funny, you know. When I ran my first marathon, I thought I was the only person in the field running to bear testament to the fact that I was more than the sum of my parts. Now, 4 marathons, 2 triathlons and countless training sessions later I know a lot of us didn't get to the starting line solely for the race that lies ahead, but to prove we can overcome the one that's waiting for us at the finish line. But today, it's the lifestyle and love - or maybe I'm still at like - for the sport that keeps me coming back. ...And those Wellesley girls don't hurt either.





















Getting some love from Big Momma as Tommy casts an approving smile... or is he checking out her butt!?





















Talking with Dad and Tammy; Shelly, the native Bostonian, works out the logistics.









The fam.