Grandma's Marathon

In the crisp dawn air, looking down a corridor of pine trees, I can see Boston in the distance. Granted, it's a 1500 mile drive from where I stand now, and a good 9 hour flight from my next home, but today, all that lies between me and that race is a 26.2 mile time trial along the lakeshore. 

But let's not forget the title of this blog. After humidity, gastritis, 53 hours awake traveling home, 1000mi of driving in 3 days and housework, I had a tough transition to say the least. But the hits kept coming as we found our flight leg from Chicago was delayed (17 hours in the end). This would lead to a missed connection to Duluth. We tried to get there another way, another airline, no go. What if we flew to Minneapolis, Madison, or Milwaukee? No, full. What if we flew from Lansing, Flint, or Detroit? Sorry, no seats on connecting flights till Sunday or Monday. We had no choice; we drove. I put in a good 5+ hours to Beloit, WI before we took a rest in a Super 8. After 6 hours rest and a quick bite, we drove on trading the time behind the wheel in order to save the legs, arriving after about another 6-hour haul. Expo, dinner and rest was all we could manage before a 4am wake up. 

Not the quick flight we planned on

Jumping into the last open seat on the bus, I sat and joined 59 other hopefuls singing "Unwritten" by Natasha Bedingfield which was blasting over the radio. I would hear those lyrics in my head throughout the day. 

Staring at the blank page before you, Open up the dirty window Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find 

All feelings of guilt about my cheat shoes left me when I look around me in the corral and see nothing but Nike Vaporfly shoes on every competitor. The weather, which has been in the high 70s the last week and is aiming for 80s and 90s on Sunday and Monday now has cooled to the mid-50s. The sun is out and the wind, with strong gusts, is from the Northeast, so we have a tailwind the entire way. There could not be better circumstances for the race. 

I break tradition, Sometimes my tries are outside the lines We've been conditioned to not make mistakes, But I can't live that way 

Early miles peel away. Though I have targeted a 7:01 (3:04 marathon), I can't seem to avoid running between 6:51-6:57. It's all time in the bank, and I have to ease way back in order to not drop even more time. By 10k I have nearly a minute in hand, and by halfway, I cross in 1:30:20, which is just too fast. I can't go slower it seems, but at the same time I have no delusions about going sub-3. My only goal from this point forward was to not hemorrhage back time.  

Full stride near the finish

I see Sarah and my friends with whom we worked in South Africa, Jay and Sara, at mile 19. All systems are go, and I feel as if I have not yet began to race. But a letdown sets in, and Lemon Drop Hill looms in the distance. In 2017, I don't remember this hill but as I see it coming over the next mile, I know I am going to remember it this time. Slowing significantly up the overpass, I managed to grab back most of the time lost on the up, though it is my first "slow" mile at about 7:03. My stomach sours significantly and I now have 4 miles left to hang on. At 24, there was not much left in me. As Gary Bjorkland said, "Grandma's Marathon starts in the middle of the woods, runs along the beautiful shores of Lake Superior, and finishes at a pub." I say, it was "19 miles of bliss, 5 miles of work, and 2 miles of absolute pain."

Trying to hold on to sub-7 pace around 23 miles

Reaching for something in the distance, So close you can almost taste it

Thank god the bricks have been removed from Superior Street, but even though I wanted to push at this point, I had nothing. The bridge over the highway was a zap, and as I came off the back side, a stiff headwind blasted me in the face. I had been yo-yo'ing between 6:55s and 7:03 per mile for the last few.  I turned off the water along the freighter and a guy that I had been near all race said, "Go with me. Come on!" I told him I was broke, and he said just go, but when I stuck the pace, he was not with me. Oh well. I rounded another corner, saw Sarah at 26, and just held on. I could go no faster, and I crossed the finish line in 3:01:39 with absolutely nothing left. I put it all out on the course and came home with nothing to spare. Collapsing into the arms of a support crew, I was put in a wheelchair, my vision blurred and dizzy. It took a few minutes but I got up and walked out of there, 8 min and 21 seconds to the good of Boston. In all my training I did not think I would get here, especially not after the injury and the heat and stress of leaving China and driving all the way to the race. I probably have not run a better race, or at least not in a long time. 

Pretty jacked at the finish but looked at watch for first time

Drench yourself in words unspoken

I have not run faster in over 20 marathons, spanning back more than 8 years to my last Boston. 

My time put me 11 min faster than 2017 but yet I finished 129 people back this time. This race has obviously become much more competitive. The number of women around me for multiple miles outnumbered the men at that time, something I have never seen in any race. But I didn't come here for anything other than a time to get me into the Boston Marathon, and it is pretty safe to say I have done that. While there are no guarantees, I must be in. In no time in the 10 years since the BAA has held a graduated qualifier has the accepted time been over 8 minutes. I expect to be admitted, but I will have to wait until September to be sure. But for now, I am a BQ'er and that makes 3 straight decades of my life that I have qualified for Boston. 

Today is where your book begins, The rest is still unwritten

For my Fourways boys - see you April 2023!