Thank you all for your support this year - without a doubt it
was the most uniquely amazing experience of my life. It sounds crazy but I enjoyed every minute of it
– not worrying at all about timing; high fiving as many people as I could,
kissing a few random students at Wellesley College, stopping to sit a few times
and walk/running from Heartbreak Hill to Kenmore Square. The crowd support was beyond uplifting and my
face was sore from smiling. I’ll never forget passing through where I was
stopped last year and stepping onto Hereford and Boylston Streets. All along
the course countless times I heard people thanking us for running, tears in
their eyes, gratitude on their faces. Having been a spectator here I can tell
you that showing that level of emotion for the 4 hours of runners streaming
past nonstop is not easy. For a runner you can’t describe the feeling of wanting
to give up but having someone in the crowd call you by name and give you THE
words of encouragement you need to hear: the direct eye contact is so
motivating and the look of admiration is so humbling (although while walking
there were more than a few times someone screamed at me to get it going you can
do it and I thought, no, I CANNOT. I CAN NOT).
After a long frigid winter it was way hotter than I was
ready for and I was nauseous for most of the last half. But this year was worth every step and
sacrifice and the horrific winter only made it more meaningful. I struggle to
find the words to describe what finishing meant for me because it really has
nothing at all to do with the mileage; the 25.1 vs 26.2, or the medal. Last
year I admit now and at the time that I felt bitter; I tried very hard NOT to
feel that way and to think about all the people who lost their lives or were
injured – but it was a struggle right through the winter to shake it. Thinking about that evil kept me focused on
the bad in humanity.
Again and again I told myself that it could have been worse
for me – but it never stuck 100%. Maybe it was because I never watched any
coverage last year. It was very traumatic for those of us near the finish;
watching news of any kind was really out of the question for me and I certainly
wasn’t going to let the kids watch. By the time I was ready to absorb the
experience it was out of the mainstream and I wanted to move on. The anniversary of last year this past week
was really the first time I ever watched coverage. Running Monday marked a transition – from
anger to gratitude; from pessimism in people to the belief in community
spirit. I am grateful that I ran both
years and went through the process to get to get to this year. Running this year
made this year even better; turning a horrible thing into a positive. It should
be simple (turn lemons into lemonade hello are you a fucking moron have you not
seen the sign?). Did I really need to run a marathon to learn that? YES, I DID. Don’t get me wrong, I am still going to be a
sarcastic bitch who complains about stupidity and bad spelling but I believe now
in the power of community spirit and in myself.
Huge goals are accomplished with commitment and spirit and one
small step at a time. My fitbit said I took 55,000 steps yesterday. That pretty
much sums up how I approached training; to me I didn’t run 26.2 miles – I took
55,000 steps. Each step brought its own triumph and its own struggle. There
were times all I could think about was my feet on fire, hunger, thirst, aches,
sunburn, etc. During the course I thought I’m only on mile 8 how am I going to
run 18 more miles? But you don’t – you just take one more step. Then you do it
again. And again. There were times I felt like weeping with pride or joy with
my mind blotting out everything else and feeling no pain. I have accomplished other things in life but I
considered them mandatory and never gave myself credit. This was something so
beyond that – I beat myself. I beat my fear, my nerves and my inner voice that
sometimes tells me I CAN’T do something.
When I decided to run again one of the main reasons was to
tell my kids that you don’t back down when you are scared. I know terrorism may
be considered an exception but I feel strongly that when shit happens you adjust.
My kids have a different life than I did but I want to teach them that the world
doesn’t cater to them. Shit happens and you have to deal with it. People will
be mean, life is unfair. Chin up. I am not saying I am good at this – I just
acknowledge it. Being afraid is no way to live. Having said that, last year was
traumatic for them so we made the decision that they wouldn’t go to the finish
line. One of the best moments of the race was seeing them at mile 8ish. Dan,
the kids, Catie and Mer and Auntie Cheryl – seeing them gave me fuel for at
least the next 5 miles.
The closest thing I can equate a marathon to is labor.
During the process is sucks but once it’s over you are beyond happy and you’re
shocked when you even consider doing
it again. In an odd way I feel the sense of pride may be greater because when I
had my kids I felt I was some instrument of Mother Nature and I was letting myself
get taken over by an alien or higher power, enduring the inevitable pain in the
process (and it’s not like you have a choice once it’s in motion). With the
marathon you are fighting against yourself and your body, every single step taken
along the training road until you finish – 6 months. Knowing you can turn back
but trying to ignore the exit signs and the chairs at the Medical tents with
each passing mile.
I am so thankful for the camaraderie of my team and
encouragement from friends and family - together you all helped me raise $5,854
for the Liver Foundation. I learned
these past 2 years how rewarding it is to raise money for a great cause and to
be part of a team that really cares about what they do. Truth is I never had
this experience. I am not going to lie and say that I set out to do this for
charity – I saw it as necessary but it changed starting last year as I
progressed and met people affected, heard their stories and saw the pride
shared by the team. It’s not just the Liver Foundation - the volunteer spirit
in Boston was so amazing.
Everyone was so engaged from handing out packets to
water stops - I have never encountered so many positive, caring and
enthusiastic people. There were more
than 10,000 volunteers this year! And every single one I came in contact with acted
like they were getting paid a lot of money to make it successful.
I am also thankful to all my friends who put up with my
nonstop marathon talk – it simply took over my life and was all I could think
about between the physical strain and time commitment. I am sure it’s hard to
relate to for many and there are plenty who do something like this and do it in
silence. I am not that girl and at almost 50 I am learning to accept this about
myself. I wear it on my sleeve; the good and the bad. I can’t help myself.
One of my favorite parts of the experience was the scarves.
If you’ve been living under a rock and haven’t heard about it watch this! The
guy in the video was the guy who gave me my scarf!!
I went to pick mine up on Friday night and the whole vibe
was so amazing, a very enthusiastic group of volunteers were giving them out
and it’s such a feeling of pride to know that someone took the trouble to hand
knit a scarf for you! The guy in the link above was the guy that gave me my
scarf!
On a random note, I am not a germa-phobe by any stretch but
if you are - beware of running a marathon; it has got to be the most
unsanitary experience of my life (well since college anyway). I was in no fewer
than 10 porta potties/bus toilets; high fiving little kids, college drunkies
and everything in between, hugging sweaty people, eating food from strangers
and just sweating like a pig. I left my sneakers there – I never want to see
those mother fuckers again! Oddly this again reminds me of being pregnant – the
first thing I did when I got home from the hospital was throw away any shoes I
had worn while pregnant because they were so grossly deformed.
One of my favorite things about the marathon is the signs.
My favorites:
·
Run faster the Kenyans are drinking your beer.
·
Run faster I just farted.
·
Toenails are overrated
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Today I find myself feeling accomplished but a little empty
– thinking well what the hell do I do now? What’s next? Or -I gotta get me some
more of THAT. Even though I may run again I know that nothing can top this
experience.
FAQS
Q What was
your time?
A 4:30. My
official BAA time was 4:45 and I have no idea why but I don’t really give a
shit. If I were to qualify for the marathon I would have to shave 40 minutes of
this. I don’t know if I care.
P.s.
Thanks to the BAA for not allowing basketball dribblers and
people dressed like hookers.
Thanks to the guys who drank beer at every mile marker.
Keeping it real
Thanks to these guys- I wish I had a doughnut in Hopkington
I was hungry to start
Random stuff I LOVE
I saw this guy in Wellesley in the scream tunnel; I didn’t
get a hug because I was too far over to the right having just kissed a random
college boy; what an awesome thing. I watched it at least 3 times and it
brought a tear to my eye. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jvn-rgk1bPo&feature=share
My liver team is really freaking awesome. This is about volunteerism
and giving back and its funny.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zse4wGzZhJY
Love you girl...so very proud of you & to be your friend. Way to go Gail, my super ninja turtle! Xo
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