Country Music Marathon

From perky and dry in my hotel room, then bundled up for the 2 mile walk to the start line, and finally cold, soaked & sore but QUALIFIED!!! Official time 3:32:54 but have joked about waiting to hear the weather adjusted times. It rained from the second we stepped out of the hotel to the second we walked back in the doors that morning. The weather made things difficult but it also kept the bands from playing and the normally energetic crowds to stay indoors making this hilly course even tougher.

All the more props to my favorite cheerleader for scooting around the course and catching me FIVE TIMES! I missed him at the finish line but the encouragement at mile 25 was much more needed.

I had stayed with the 3:30 pace team until mile 22/23 where the leader, Vance, picked it up to bring the group in under the designated time. With no "pick up" in my legs I discouragingly watched my pack pull away. My spirits now matched my body, dampened, and I let myself walk a bit. I had to cut the pity party short or was going to be really mad at myself later. Therefore, took a deep breathe, let 3:30 go and excepted the wave of confidence knowing I would still make my qualifying mark of 3:35. (Don't let there be any confusion that there was anything leisurely or comfortable about it though.)

Like I said, I missed Jim at the finish line. I wanted to collapse but simultaneously jump up and down and who else could recognize that?! That was exactly when I ran into Vance. This stranger had waited at the finish line for me to make sure I made it and wanted to be the first one to congratulate me! If I had had any spring left I would have jumped and hugged his neck but it was easily the best unexpected high five ever! (This has now added "lead a pace group" to my bucket list.)

Qualifying for Boston was my goal and for that reason alone it was a success trip but it was also an extremely social visit to Nashville. I got to catch up with so many wonderful friends, even some unexpected ones! (Not pictured: Kate Ferrel & family who had us over for a fantastic pre-race pasta dinner and Charla, Lee & Thomas Sherbakoff who we literally ran into at The Expo.)

You Can't Take My Refuge

I know I’m not alone in saying that running is my refuge. It is my outlet, a way to let go and release, it’s something that makes me feel good both physically and about myself. You can’t run and stay mad. At the end of a run things are always better. Along with fitness (and my love of food), that is why I leave the house early in the morning and go for hours, come home tired and sore, and then go out and do it again... with a smile.

I once read that if you ever want to restore your faith in humanity, to go out and watch a marathon. It is hard to feel down when total strangers line up along the route to yell encouragement. Bands plays. People hand out water, sports drinks, snacks and even beer. Spectators dress up, hold signs and offer high fives. Even if you aren't feeling the run the course, especially the finish line, is a happy place. There is solidarity, fellowship. Everyone is there to celebrate that you are stronger than you thought possible. Crossing that finish line should be a high but yesterday the most prestigious one became a bloody crime scene.

World wide, Boston is a dream many runners work towards for years. All those people's hard work, sacrifice and determination was overshadowed by a terrible act of violence. But what makes me sick is that the people who were standing at the end to support and celebrate the achievement of their loved ones were so badly injured. I was not in Boston but this is "my community" and that could easily have been my family.

A friend shared that every race she runs, she dedicates each mile to a different person. It gives her something to focus on and fight for when her legs would rather give up. Next weekend I will be attempting to fulfill step one of my Boston Marathon goal, qualifying. One of my miles will be for Boston. Along with all of you... my small following. :-)  I love you!