Running after Boston

Boston Marathon 2013 has forever changed runners. I’m sure by now you’ve all heard and read how runners feel about the Boston Marathon. It’s like the Holy Grail of running. It’s where all runner’s hope to be one day. I, personally, am a slow runner and may not make it until I’m 50 years old, but I’ll get there one day. I hope to go in the next few years and just run the 5k. Just being around those elite runners and feeling the electricity is enough for me right now. I’ll run the 5k and cheer on the marathoners as they run up “Heartbreak Hill.”

I ran the Blue Ridge Half Marathon the weekend after the Boston bombings. The volunteerism and the spectators were off the charts. Or, it could have just been how the awesome town of Roanoke, VA, is, but I’d like to say it’s a little of both. Boston jackets and shirts and even Red Sox hats were seen everywhere. People were proudly wearing anything that had to do with Boston. Before the race began, we had a moment of silence. The Boston flag was waving above the starting line. As the national anthem was sung, we all stood proudly, hands over our hearts and watched that bright blue flag wave in the air. I always get emotional when our national anthem is sung, and this time was no different.

Runners from all over the country and even the world gathered in their small cities and towns on the Monday night after the bombings and ran for Boston. Whether it was 2.62 miles or 4 miles or 26.2 miles. It didn’t matter. It was the coming together and bonding for Boston that we were after. If you didn’t have a Boston shirt, you wore blue or yellow or tried to order one supporting the OneFund Boston that helped aid the victims.

This was my home group. (o:

Races will never be the same. Spectators and runners alike will always wonder if something will happen and wonder if a bomb will go off near the starting or finish line. Trash cans are not just trash cans anymore. Anyone with a backpack may be looked at more than twice now.

But, will the running population decrease? Have people stopped running? Oh, no! Quite the opposite. Boston 2014 will probably have record-breaking numbers. People have started running when they never have before. You see, running is more than just a sport. It is an activity that not only tests your physical endurance, but also your mind. Half of running is the mental battle. Your body is stronger than your mind thinks you are. This is why you can’t listen to your mind. Listen to your body when you run. When your mind tells you that it hurts, run faster, run farther. You’ll know when it’s time to rest. Your body will know. People who run go through this mental battle and it leaks into their everyday life. So, in short, runners are strong people. People who run marathons have trained their body and mind for months. The tragedy at Boston has done nothing but make people come together which makes them stronger than ever. The bombers messed with the wrong people. Runners are overcomers!

I know it’s been a while since my last blog. I’ve been busy…running my fifth half marathon for this spring next weekend. But, I’ve also been taking it easy…training for my first 50k this summer. So, it’s gonna be a long, hot summer. But, I’ll keep you posted…I’m sure to have many adventures doing those long runs every weekend.

Oh, and meet my boy, George! He’s my new addition, Golden Retriever and Chow mix. I thought I was going to be able to train him to run with me on those long runs, but I don’t think he’s gonna be able to. He’s not a running breed…he doesn’t do over 3 miles. But, he’s a great friend and loves to listen to me complain about what hurts now from the previous run…LOL.

“You doing Myrtle Beach next year?”

When people speak of Myrtle Beach or going to Myrtle Beach, things like flip flops, sun tans, pińa coladas, Ocean Boulevard and beach music come to mind. But to some runners along with myself, every second or third Saturday in February means it’s marathon time at Myrtle! Among my close running group inside the Greenville Track Club, you might overhear one say, “You going to Myrtle next year?” This doesn’t mean, “Are you going to the beach for vacation?” It means, “Will you be running Myrtle this year?”

This is one of my favorite “get out of town” races every year. Only death or a bad illness keeps me from going. I get to room with some of my favorite elite runners and hang with the best. I get to see them often throughout the year at different hometown races and at GTC events, but at Myrtle, I get to run with them for three days, talk about this year’s running plans, discuss different eating plans and cross training, and dream and plan the next few years “must have” races.

Let me give you some background on out-of-town races. It is not just to go run that race and mark it off of your list. It’s a time of letting your hair down and hanging out with some of your best friends; friends who know the lingo, understand your passion and addiction and never tire of talking about running. That’s pretty much all we do all weekend. Oh, and run. We run, too.

You experience those morning-of butterflies together, visiting the port-a-potties a few times, decide where to meet after the race, and as soon as one finishes, you stand at the finish line and cheer every runner that comes through (even though they are strangers to you) until your whole gang of running buddies have finished. Runners share a bond that only runners understand. You see each other at your worst and best times. Those best times meaning, “sweat rolling down your face, stinky, your Achilles “killing” you, but you PR’ed that day.” Those are the best times.

So, Myrtle this year was no different. Actually, it was the best year yet of my three years running it. I got to run it with one of my very dear running friends. We crossed the starting line together and he let me cross the finish line one second before him. True friendship, I tell you. Tried and true. (Thanks, Jeff!)

I took the race easy this year just enjoying the run. I’ve been doing that more and more since completing my marathon in October. I truly love running just for the run and I am glad that I have the health and strength to do it.

About the half-way mark, I let my mind wander to just being thankful. I thought of my grandmother that passed away the year before. Tears came to my eyes. She was always a “go-getter.” She was the kind of person that always said to “go and try everything you can. Life is so short. Live it on purpose.” So, that day, I ran that half marathon for my grandmother, Lexie. I know she would be out there if she could.

I talk a lot about running for yourself. Don’t run for anybody else. Do it all for you. Running is a one-man sport. You are competing with yourself. And, I still feel this way. But, I have some friends that run for different reasons, be it breast cancer, a recent tragedy or a charity of some sort. So, I have decided to incorporate that into my running this year. Run for a cause. Yes, it’s still for you, but there’s just something about having a person or a cause to run for that makes you push and breathe a little harder for. Both of my grandmothers had some sort of cancer at one point in their lives. So, my races this year may not be running for a “cancer,” but they can be run for my grandmothers that can’t run today. Running for someone who can’t…that’s a pretty darn good reason to run, if you ask me.

I know I “chase rabbits” a lot in my blogs, giving more details about the races or runs and not just about the race itself. But, that’s what running is. Yes, it’s about the race, getting through different mind obstacles and a mile-by-mile replay. But, it’s also about enjoying the whole experience. I’m a big-picture type of girl and like to talk about it. So, in short, I thought the following during the race (not in any particular order): “Boy, it’s good to be running the whole race with my friend. Man, I miss my grandmother. This is for you, Nan. I really wanted to try to PR today, but I think I’m just gonna take it easy and enjoy today with Jeff. Ooh, I need to come look through that store I just passed after the race later. Boy, those eggs, pancakes and bacon smell like heaven right now! I hope Alfred is feeling good…he’s running his first full today. I wish those women behind us would just shut up! I think I’m getting a blister already and it’s only mile six. Talk about perfect weather for a marathon! Man, I wish I had signed up for the full. Man, I’m glad I only signed up for the half (at the split)! I’m freakin’ awesome! Only 2% of the population ever run a marathon…glad I’m in that 2%. Today is a good day to be alive. I know it’s only a half, but it feels like a full already. Where is that split again? Oh, there’s Kerrie and Bobby to run us in! I’m so blessed to have friends such as these.”

It was, indeed, a good day to run and another year of Myrtle Beach was penned down for the books. Race stories were swopped, laughs and hugs were shared, pictures were taken, cheering and heavy breathing was heard, pounding of the feet was felt, medals were received, lots and lots of food was eaten, not enough outlet shopping was done, and 13.1 and 26.2 miles were ran. Just another day in the life of a runner.

From 26.2 to 5k – It’s All About the Journey

As you can read and see, I took a little hiatus since my marathon in late October and just enjoyed “the run” again. I basically haven’t ran over 10 miles in one run since October 28, 2012. But, I intentionally, planned it that way to give my body a rest after months and months of training. In November and December, I only ran fun runs and “jingle jogs.” I thoroughly enjoyed taking a rest, eating those holiday treats, and having no “mapped-out” routes or scheduled mileage to do on Saturdays. After 10 months of hard-core training, I decided to give my body a break.

It is now mid-January. I started the year off right by running 7 miles New Year’s Day morning with my running buddy, Tim. We had a nice, wet run on the Swamp Rabbit Trail and enjoyed an All-American recovery breakfast at Waffle House. Nothing says, “Good morning, America!” like a full breakfast from Waffle House…the place that never closes.

Since then, I have gotten back on track with my training. I have a full year planned. I have 3 half marathons back to back in February, March and April. Then, I enter the summer months with 3 triathlons: 2 sprints and 1 international. My big goal this year is to run my first ultra, 50k (31.07 miles roughly). I turned 31 this past December and I wanted to make this my goal for this year: run 31 miles in my 31st year. This is planned in October with a few of my other running friends. Then, I’ll end the year in November with another marathon.

When they said “dream big,” I took them literally. My dreams get bigger and bigger each year. Not just in running, but in life.

So, this past Saturday was the first 5k of the Greenville Track Club’s Running Series season. You already know that I am not a fast runner. I run for fun and for the passion. But, I do try to work on my speed, as I attend the track speed workouts every Wednesday with the Track Club. It was a cold morning Saturday. My car thermometer read 29 degrees on the way downtown. I huddled with my running friends waiting for the national anthem to be sung, the countdown and the “gun” to go off. The Greenville News Downtown 5k is known to be the “fastest 5k” in our running series. It has uphills, but it also has its share of downhills which give you that “make-up time” advantage. As I have mentioned before, in running, as in life, you have your good days and your bad days. I didn’t feel bad Saturday, but I wasn’t feeling that PR.

About halfway, I started realizing that this was not going to be a PR day for me. My current PR is 30:11. I just haven’t been able to break 30 minutes yet in a 5k. But, it will come. It will. So, I was struggling up one of the inclines and a man and his son were running up beside me. I heard the father say, “What is one of your biggest goals when you grow up?” To which the son replied, “To work at the Pentagon.” The father said, “Then, run with that in mind and let that goal push you to finish today.” I saw the little boy, approximately 7 or 8 years old, run a little faster. I couldn’t help but smile. A father was teaching his son about life through running.

I also saw another man who was in front of me for a little ways. The back of his shirt had something along the lines of being a Marine, just not as fast now. One could tell he was in his forties or fifties and he had gained weight since his Marine days. As I passed him, I patted his back and said, “You got this, Marine!” The feeling of encouraging another runner far surpasses that feeling you get when someone else encourages you on your run. I guess it’s that whole “better to give than to receive” aspect. Either way, I felt like a million bucks.

So, it may not have been a “big red letter day” of running for me. No PR’s were set, no second winds were felt. But, I thoroughly enjoyed that run by running beside people that I don’t know and learning something about them and watching them pursue and conquer that run.

I have said this many times, but running is life to me. I thank God daily for my health and strength to be able to run and cycle and swim. I love it and I enjoy sharing my experiences with others that either enjoy these same pastimes or wish they could do more, but can’t.

So, here’s to 2013! Looking forward to taking life on with more passion than ever. I will treasure my runs, rides and swims with everything within me, because one day, I may not be able to enjoy them.

But, today is not that day.

My First Marathon: Running with 25,000 of my Closest Friends

I have thought and thought of a hundred different ways to tell you all about my first marathon. I have typed pages and then deleted them, because to tell you the truth, I could write about it in a hundred different ways from different angles. Truth is, running a marathon is all about the journey leading up to the actual race. The day of the race is your reward. Plain and simple. So, you all have already “read” with me my journey getting here. So, let me tell you about my reward.

I had planned on getting to the race start an hour ahead of time to meet with the other eight people from Greenville to take a picture who had come to run the race, as well. But, the metro system busing 30,000 people to one metro station was more than we had accounted for. We finally arrived to the race start in Arlington about 30 minutes after I had planned for. Bathroom lines were a mile long; guys were hunkering down behind pine trees to beat the crowd. At this point, I really wished I were a boy.

After we make our last bathroom visit, we start walking to the corrals that are labeled with the finish time we expect we can finish in. On the way, Tim takes my picture with some pretty awesome U.S. Marines.

So, I wish my running buddy, Tim, good luck and Godspeed and he walks on to his corral as I walk to mine. I wanted to finish in 5:30. I start talking to the people around me in my corral. By the time the gun went off to start the race, I had made yet another 3 or 4 best friends. It’s amazing that you can arrive to a race knowing no one, and by the time you run through the finish line, you have made some of the best friends you’ll ever have who have gone to hell and back with you. All within 5 hours. So, if you need friends, try long distance running.

The gun goes off, and I wish my newly found friends good luck, a good time and Godspeed and safety. And we’re off! We walk for about a minute due to the large crowd and by the time I finally cross over the starting line and see all the Marines, the flags, the firetrucks, the signs and hear the music, my heart is thumping so fast and strong that I just let the tears mount up in my eyes. I had brought my phone and earplugs for music for later when the crowds die down and I needed motivation, but now was not the time to plug in. One could just look around them and have all the motivation they would need. The electrical current through the crowd was astounding. It’s like being on a strong pain killer without the side effects. You think you can literally fly. No, you don’t think it. You believe it.

We start running from Arlington by Rosslyn and will run by the Potomac partly on George Washington Memorial Parkway until we cross the river and run through Georgetown. I knew by the time we leave Georgetown, the hills will be over until we reach the last .2 mile. Almost to the end of Georgetown, I meet up with another fellow Greenvillian runner and chat a few minutes. It was great seeing an old face in this vast sea of friends, yet friends I didn’t know the names of. But, what’s in a name? We talk about the flight here, the storm, our goals to finish and how we feel. At that point, we both felt great. We wish each other good luck and “see you at the finish!” – knowing we probably wouldn’t see each other at the finish, but it sure does sound good in the middle of a race.

I really felt awesome my first 13 miles. If it were a half marathon, I would have had the best second PR on a half marathon. I was just worried about the second half, after mile 18 to be exact. In all of my training runs, I usually hit my wall around mile 18. I run out of fuel and I break down emotionally. It’s like my whole body is running on nothing but fumes and it affects my whole being.

But, it’s like they knew. From around mile 12 to mile 20 where you have to “beat the bridge,” crowd supporters and even the Marines at the water and food stations had signs in their hands or were stuck in the ground with sayings to either make you laugh, help you take that next step, make you cry, or just make you more determined. And they did just that for me. Signs are one of my favorite things about races. Here are a few I love or stand out to me: “Hurry up! The Packers are on at noon!” “Frankenstorm can’t scare a runner.” “Runners are sexy! Your pace or mine?” “Free Hugs!” “Single [male] runner looking for single female marathon runner!” “You can do this, Perfect Stranger!” “Beat the bus!” “Beat the Bridge!” “Blisters are in this season!” “Toenails are for sissies!” “Your feet hurt because you are kicking so much butt!” “Worst. Parade. Ever.” “Chafe now…brag forever!” “This seemed like a good idea 4 months ago!” “Where are you all going?” “You’re not slow, you’re just enjoying the course.” “In our minds, you’re all Kenyans.” “Staying up all night making this sign was hard too!” At mile 1: “You are NOT almost there!” “There is no app for this. Keep running.” “You think running a marathon is hard? Try waiting on you to finish!” “Why do all the cute ones run away?” “You think you’re tired? My arms are for holding up this sign!” “Ice baths and cookies at the finish!” “This parade is going too fast…where are the floats?” “5 to 1 you hurl before this is over!” “Chuck Norris never ran a marathon.”

So, I beat the bridge and as I was crossing it, I hit my wall. My feet started hurting to the point that adrenaline wasn’t making it go away. I was now running past the point that I had ever trained. I had only ran up to 20 miles and this is where it is all heart and just putting one foot in front of the other…because there’s no other way back to the finish. But, as we exit the bridge and start running through Crystal City, the crowds are growing again. Even with the race’s water and food stops, spectators were giving out stuff as well. One of our food stops around mile 22 were Dunkin Donuts donut holes. I choked one down, and threw the other away. Even my mouth was tired and it took me forever to chew that donut.

Around mile 22, I was passing these 2 other African-American girls. They were talking and just having a good time. My emotions were raw and they could tell. One came up beside me, put her arm around me and said, “Girl, you okay?” To which I just nodded my head because I was on the verge of tears. She said, “Is this your first marathon?” I nodded and smiled and tears ran down my face. She then said, “Girl, you let it out! Cry, cuss, whatever you wanna do. You earned it.” I laughed and cried. And they laughed and enjoyed the moment with me.

Past mile 23, you play your last mind game: “Just a 5k more. That’s all it is. Just a 5k. You got this.” And today, I really can’t tell you anything about my last 3 miles. All I remember is thinking I have 3 miles to go, that this is nothing, it’s all paying off, a Marine is going to put a medal around my  neck, I think I may kiss him if I don’t throw up first, and I will NEVER do this again.

The last .2 mile is straight up hill to the finish in front of the Iwo Jima Memorial. To be honest, I can’t even remember that hill. I know it was a hill, but after the pain I felt, it wouldn’t have mattered if it were flat or down hill. I run a little harder up the hill knowing I was finished. I cross over the timing pad, a Marine high fives me and I see a group of them standing together holding medals. I walk up to one, he smiles, hangs the medal around my neck, says “Congratulations, Miss!”, and stands back, and salutes me. I choke back my tears and just say “Thank you.” I can’t say anything else because I would just break down.

I walk on back to get my picture taken in front of the Iwo Jima, sit down and would have stayed there if a storm wasn’t coming in soon. My feet hurt, my whole body ached, I was starving and I needed to find a familiar face. I called my family back home and barely could talk due to the emotion I was feeling. I told them I would call back later when I was back at the hotel.

After fighting the crowds for an hour to get back to the hotel, all the while sitting on the ground in the metro, not caring because my feet hurt so bad, I finally make it to my bed. As I lay back on it, I thought, “Never again. I’ve done it. No more.”

So, I took my Epsom salt bath, ordered in room service and feel asleep in no time.

The next day, the storm had come and it was a perfect day for it since I planned on doing nothing.

And, here’s the most important fact to my story: The pain started going away on that Monday. My body was recovering. I started moving around the room. And the glory of finishing started settling in. By Tuesday, I felt good and I wasn’t walking like Frankenstein. And the most astounding thing crossed my mind, then: “Yeah, I’m definitely going to do this again. I’m thinking once, maybe twice a year.”

And the phrase hit home: “Pain is temporary. Glory is forever.” Yes, the pain hurts like heck while you’re going through it. It feels like you literally go through hell and come back. But, after it’s over, that pain goes away and all you really remember is the pride and glory of finishing a great feat such as running 26.2 miles…on your own accord.

Some friends have compared it to having a child. You don’t really remember the pain after they get here.

I am now a marathoner. My goal, for now, is to do 1 or 2 a year. After the pain goes away, you get the fever and you start Googling where your next one is going to be.

Some put it like this: “Running sucks! What time tomorrow morning?” I can so relate.

So, there’s my first marathon story. I’m glad I got to tell it to you all and thank you for sharing in my joy and my journey.

Before I left my room that morning, my mom texted me the verse: “The desire accomplished is sweet to the soul.” And that feeling, indeed, is so sweet.

And here’s a free piece of advice: Never ask a person if they will run any more marathons after they have just finished one. They answer will always be NO! But, just give them a few days. That answer will most likely change. It did for me.

The Power of Encouragement

It comes in several forms: a subtle head nod as you’re passing each other, a small hand wave, a faint smile as you’re huffing and puffing, a verbal “Good job!” or “You got this!” or “Keep going!” or “Good morning!” And then sometimes, it’s just making eye contact. No words or smiles or hand gestures are needed. You just know. The beauty of it all is that it comes from complete strangers as you’re enduring the pain together via a long run. You may be running in different directions, but you’re both going to the same place. Some call this place “hell,” some call it “euphoria” and some call it their “happy place.” To me, it is all the above. Without going to this “place” every few weeks, I am a different person. A person I don’t like and, from what I’m told, a lot of other people don’t like, either. Teeheehee!

I ran my last long run this past Saturday before my marathon October 28. I had 22 miles planned, but only reached 20. But, this is okay. It has the same effect on the body, believe me. My first 13-15 miles felt great! I was making good time and felt like I could run forever. I was hydrating correctly and my legs felt awesome. It would have been a great day for a half marathon. Then, somewhere between miles 15-18 I hit the wall. This is typical for me. My wall comes way before 20 miles, usually around mile 17. The wall is 80% mental and 20% physical for me. That 80% is where the mental demons start their warfare and you question yourself, “Why in the world do you do this, again??” But, that question doesn’t get answered until you see the finish line in the distance or, on a training run, that curve that leads to where your car is parked for the day. Then, you have a thousand different reasons why you do it. A guilty pleasure of mine is that terrible, yet heavenly pain you feel the day after a long run. Your legs are cramping, sore, you walk funny around the house, but you have a smile on your face.

Before I started my run Saturday morning, I posted it on facebook. Somewhere after mile 17, I turned my music off of my phone and thought I would see what was posted. I just needed some kind of inspiration. So, thank you to all who posted encouraging comments on my page or status. Unless you’ve been there, you really don’t know the impact just a “Way to go!” has on a runner hitting that wall. And most of all, I want to publicly say thank you to a passing cyclist. I was about 2.5 miles left of finishing and no one was ahead of me to pass. I was running a slow pace, hurting, and seeing mirages of Gatorade at that point. Then, breezing past me from behind, a cyclist looked at me as he passed and said, “You got this! Keep going!” He couldn’t see the look on my face, but I think he knew. He just knew. Sometimes, you don’t even have to ask what a runner’s mileage is that day. It’s answered all over their face. You know it’s a long run, not a 10 mile jog through the park. So, thank you, cyclist guy. You helped me finish my 20 miles on Saturday, which you’ll never know about. Godspeed, my friend, and safe travels on the roads.

So, whatever your form of encouragement is, don’t hold back. Just say it or wave it or raise the corners of your mouth up. You’ll never know the impact you may have on that person and what they’re going through. Encouragement is like Red Bull. It gives you wings.

Training Plans and God’s Plans

September 15, 2012 marked the date of my scheduled 22 mile training run for my marathon. Leading up to that week, I had been experiencing some tendonitis in my right knee and I was wearing a brace around my knee. I was concerned about my long run that weekend, but I wasn’t in the kind of pain that would make me sit out, so I proceeded on with my plan. I cross train with swimming three days a week on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. I went to the pool Thursday and about halfway through practice, I was making a turn and slipped and hit my leg on the edge of the pool. My coach and I tried to figure out how it happened, and we still cannot figure it out. It was bizarre. The place on my lower right leg is not even exposed to the wall when I turn. It was the kind of pain that numbs your entire leg. You want to cry and laugh at the same time. So, I enter Friday with a touch of tendonitis in my right knee and a big blue bruise on the lower part of my leg. I had taken off work on Friday, September 14 to rest for my 22 miler. I had decided to proceed with my 22 miles and if I began to hurt worse, I would stop. I have already finished one 20 miler and still have another one on the schedule, so I would be fine to not make this one.

I was making my pre-long run trip to Academy Sports to get my “fuel.” I use Accelerade and add in Clif’s Shot Blocks, as well. Making the story short, as I was turning in to the store parking lot, I was in a car accident, rolled my Jeep, but escaped with just bruises and soreness. Needless to say, my 22 miler was not going to happen the next day.

First, I am blessed beyond measure that I am still here and as “accident survivors” say, everything is a little bit more vivid now. Second, it seems like everything and everybody was striking against me that week and for some reason, I was not meant to run those 22 miles the next day.

But, everything happens for a reason. Who am I to question an omniscient God? Maybe He let it happen because He knew the tendonitis wasn’t going to stop me, so He had to stop me somehow, Himself. Who knows? But, I don’t question things out of my control. I took last week off from training and now I feel rested, energized and ready to finish this training and run that marathon. And, by the way, I’m not feeling that tendonitis in my knee anymore.

You may feel differently about matters such as these, but this is how I feel about them. Right now in my life, I have the opportunity to do all that I do. I get to train as much as I do because I can right now. That could change at any time, but for right now, I do it because I can. So, I train in “beast” mode sometimes, and I think my body needed a break. It doesn’t sound right to take a week off 5 weeks before my first marathon, but it was “in the cards” for me. And because life is so short and precious, I now run every run with thankfulness in my heart that I can.

I read a poem the other day that I could honestly pray myself:

“God, give me the courage to run the race. Help me to persevere as you taught us. Grant me the strength to finish strong. Honor me with your presence on my journey. Allow me to be a GraceRunner this day. Oh, Lord…one more breath, one more step, one more mile, FINISH LINE…this is my prayer. I can do all things through YOU who strengthens me! Amen.”

I hope I can remind you that you can do what you do, whatever it is, because God allows you to. He can snatch away your life at any given second, but He hasn’t yet because he still has plans for you, whatever they may be. So, “…whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men.”

In It for the Long Run

Saturday, August 25 was a milestone in my marathon training. I was scheduled for a 20 mile training run. I have ran 20 miles once before (last year during my marathon training before I was injured with tendonitis), but this time, I am injury-free. I have one blister on my foot and my right hip was bothering me, but those issues are par for the course. Today, three days after the fact, I feel great!

I have mentioned before that 90% of running is mental. This is not just a statement made by runners to make non-runners try it. This is fact. For me, preparing for a long distance run begins a few days before the run, not just nutritionally but also mentally. Nutritionally speaking, there are certain foods that I shy away from a day or two before the run. I cannot eat lettuce. To put it bluntly, I learned this the hard way and it goes straight through me, very quickly. Enough said. I also stay away from heavy foods that take a day or two to digest. For me, this is red meat, i.e. steak. You don’t want that extra weight in your body while you’re running for 4 hours and you don’t want it trying to “do its thing” while you’re running. Believe me; I know where every bathroom is along the Swamp Rabbit Trail from Traveler’s Rest to downtown Greenville. First-hand experience, here. I also avoid caffeine the morning of the run, which has the same effect on me. But, different foods and liquids affect everybody differently. Some runners have a cup of coffee before every run and some enjoy steak the night before a run. Remember that everything is trial and error. And you must “trial and error” during your training runs. Never try something new on race day. You never know how it will affect you. My preferable pre-race meal while I’m home in Greenville is teriyaki chicken with steamed white race from the Hibachi Buffett: the white rice for my carbs, chicken for some lean protein and the steamed vegetables on the side. Yum! This works for me so I’m sticking to it.

Mentally, I fight demons all week long. There are so many things that make the mind reel; from things going wrong, to getting injured, to thinking you won’t make it, to getting discouraged, that you’ll be the only one still running on the SRT at 11am. Sometimes a bad mid-week run will get me discouraged and I’ll dread my long run. These are just a few things that plague my mind the week before. Then, I’ll either read something online from a fellow runner or I’ll just remember the main reason why I’m doing this. Yes, my first marathon is a goal of mine and a check to put beside on my bucket-list, but the bottom line is I love running. And sometimes, I have to remind myself of that when the hard, long runs come up because nothing compares to the feeling of seeing that finish line at the end of a race, be it a 5k or half marathon or full marathon. YOU ran that distance. YOU finished. YOU kept going when it hurt. Yes, the journey is what it’s all about, but the reward is that finish line.

During the long run, I could write a book about all that my mind comes up with and thinks about. I’ve mentioned before that I usually don’t wear an iPod when running because I like to keep my ears and mind open during that “me” time. But, when I’m running for more than 2 hours, by myself, a little entertainment I can handle. Besides, it keeps my mind off of an ache or the fatigue. So, I have started carrying an mp3 player with books on it. I am also a member of 2 book clubs so I can kill 2 birds with 1 stone: running and getting my books read. But, this past 20 miler didn’t happen that way. About 2 hours into the run, my earphones died. So, I had 2 more hours of running and letting the mind wander. Mind you, it is the second half of the run where it is the hardest. I usually hit “the wall” around mile 18. This wall you hear runners speak of is when they are drained physically, mentally and emotionally. It affects me in every way. At that point, you can do nothing but put one foot in front of the other and think about whatever helps you keep going. I usually am very fatigued and can cry at the drop of a hat at this point. This past Saturday at exactly mile 18, I run into a friend on the trail who was walking her dog and she started talking to me and immediately apologized for holding me up. I stop, put my hands on my knees and with tears in my eyes, say, “Oh, no, you couldn’t have crossed me at a better time. This is mile 18 and this is where I usually break. So, keep talking, I need this break.” After that 5 minute breather, the “wall” was more of a hump. I pressed on and with no Accelerade left in my fuel belt for the last 2 miles, I started fantasizing of large water towers filled with Gatorade. It’s amazing the visions and the thoughts one can have when you’re delirious. I start thinking of anything liquid, like large water towers with a little spigot at the bottom for me to drink from. I run this last 11 mile loop often and know every curve and slope. When I crossed the railroad tracks, I knew I was 3/4 mile away from my Jeep. I was having mirages, my right hip was killing me, my feet hurt in general and I felt a blister on my middle toe on my left foot. But, I ran the rest of the way. Because I could. Because I knew that the harder I pushed on my training runs, I would feel double that inspiration on race day when I feel the adrenaline of 35,000 other runners going through the same thing I was.

 

When I crossed the last road on the trail leading me to the parking lot where my Jeep was, I smile with tears in my eyes and say, “Thank you, God, that I have the health and strength to do this.” I reach my Jeep and down a 32 ounce orange Gatorade I had left in my Jeep on ice for after the run. Let me tell you, nothing tastes or feels as good, to me at least, as orange Gatorade after a long, hard and hot run. And, orange is my favorite!

I get to my Jeep, down the Gatorade, stretch, and change into my recovery sandals and head home, but not before stopping to get my ritual: chocolate milk – the best recovery drink to any athlete.

I have 2 more 20-plus mile training runs to go before the big day of October 28, and each time I will go through the same process mentally. And each time, I will have to remember the main reason why I’m in it for the long run: for the love of the run.