Please come to Boston (apologies to Jackopierce)
Posted on March 6, 2006
First, let me set the stage:
- If you were there, think “Wildflower 2003″
- If you were not there, think “driving rain, mid-30s temp, and just to see if you’re tough, a raging headwind”
- And if you think I am just going to tell you, forget it – you know I write, and I talk too much, and I’m gonna make you work for it!
2,300 of my closest friends and I set out from Calistoga in the pouring rain at 7:00 this morning. I wore a yellow garbage bag/poncho for the first 5 miles (this was a first). I planned to run 8:10s (with the first three at 8:30 to warm up as dictated by Coach Wayne – though I didn’t quite manage that, with 8:40, 8:15, 8:11), then settled into 8:10s. I ran into (and ran with) Rob Mardell from the South Bay Ironteam and Troy Windsor from a past TNT tri team (who was “taking it easy” because he is running 6 marathons in 6 months!) Troy and I ran together until mile 12, when he left me to visit nature. I didn’t see him again. I plodded along, until the headwind began at mile 15 – so intense I had to keep my head down to maintain any forward motion. I immediately saw my splits drop by a solid :20-:30 a mile.
I started to cry. Not just a tear, but a blubber.
I saw Heather Prime (the fabulous Marathon Sherpa), who tried her damndest to cheer me up, and jogged along beside me. I whimpered. This was hard. This hurt. I was cold, and miserable. I caught up to South Bay ITers Lori Pignati and Dana Booth, which picked up my spirits immeasurably, because I thought “well, even if I don’t qualify, I ran with those two – and they are fast!”
I slowly passed them, and started talking with another guy who looked familiar – turns out he is on the TNT teams for Napa and Wildflower – as an Honoree. First marathon? Nope, it’s his fourth – but his first post-chemo for his rare form of CLL, which ended 9 months ago.
All my whines and blubbering? Sent packing. It could not have been more perfectly timed. Thank you, fabulous Honoree and in-remission Mark, for reminding me when I really, really needed it, that the ability to be cold, wet, and miserable while running a marathon is actually a gift.
I kept plodding, newly re-energized and refusing to give up, knowing it was really not over until the fat lady sang (I could hear her warming up).
Mile 19, thank you sweet god, George meets me there to run me in. Halleluiah, I can stop thinking. I apologize to him in advance for anything mean or nasty I may say in the coming hour. We keep plodding, and I just follow his back. I don’t remember much of what happened in these miles, though I remember asking “where’s the hill” at Mile 20, and was thrilled to find we were just about to crest it when I asked. I also remember at Mile 23 we saw Coach April and Gigi, who immediately started talking to George. I had enough fire left to say “umm, excuse me…what about me?!”
Coach April gave me the happiest words all day: “holy cow, Mo, you are on fire – are you going to take like an hour off your PR?” etc, etc…she laid it on thick, and I loved every bit of it. She told me I had it in the bag, but to stop talking and to focus. We kept plodding – still holding around 8:45. Though the wind had lessened somewhat, the driving rain and cold had not – I could not even move my mouth to make complete sentences, and my fingers and stomach were numb to the touch. Though I am prone to exaggeration, I swear this is the truth!
I tried madly to do the calculations – with 4.2 miles left and 40(ish) minutes to go, would I make it? Couldn’t do the math. We missed the marker for 24, so I didn’t know if we were still on pace. 24-25, out comes Joe Whelan, all smiles, and I start crying again. He also tells me we have it in the bag. We’re closer in, so my math works a bit better – I think if we can stay at a 9 or below, we can make it. But what about those last .2? What if that is the difference?
This same stretch, Lori and the guy running her in her pass us. We start picking it up after we leave Joe – Mile 25 to 26 we drop from a 8:41 back down to an 8:14. Holy shit, this hurts. I think about puking but don’t have the energy. I keep looking down and ahead, afraid of tripping, and afraid of falling. George tells me I have it, I don’t have the mental faculties to tell him I need to puke. Finally, I see the sign – electronic proof that I really, actually, 14 years in the dreaming, may have this in the bag.
3:39:02
YEAHH baby. It wasn’t chip timed, my clock time was 3:39:08, and it took me about 6 seconds to cross the start line in the morning. But :02, :08, I don’t really care. I QUALIFIED, a 9 minute PR, and time to spare, in that awful, horrid, freezing (definitely on the verge of hypothermia) weather. Lori crossed about 10 seconds ahead of me, Dana about 10 seconds behind me – 3 Ironteamers, all going to Boston 2007!
The hugest shout-outs in the world to Heather Prime, Troy Windsor, George Kovacs, Joe Whelan and April Powers. You all were a huge part of my day, and my success – I could not have done it without you. Thank you.
Now, I have a date with a 21 pound “party bag” of ice, and in 6 hours I have to get on an airplane and fly to NYC (this should be fun).
