The first life goal - check.

Boston was my first race where I've had to travel. For chicago, I can tell you what i'll be doing down to the very minute up until the time of the gun. Boston was odd. I had no idea what to expect.

5:30am - get up, cram down a powerbar, get dressed.
6am - head out the door. it's pouring rain and REALLY windy. I get scared.
6:30am - get on bus and head to Hopkinton, the starting point.
7:30 - get to the school gymnasium where I claim some floor space, put down my stuff. Fall asleep for an hour. This is all backwards. Normally, I've got no nervous energy until race morning. I guess I spent it all the week before.
8:30 - break out ballpoint pen and write motivation on my left arm. Cram down shot blocks and another powerbar. Suck down a bottle of gatorade.
9:30 - change my mind for the 10th time about what i'm going to wear to keep from freezing and getting soaked. head to start corral and thanks to the garbage bag, only my head gets soaked.
10 - gun goes off and here we go.

i won't bore you with the mile by mile except to highlight a few sections of the race. I'd heard rumors of the Wellesly girls and how loud these ladies can be for the racers. at mile 12, i heard the cheering. what i didn't realize was that they were more than a half mile away. when we got to them, it was deafening. I think I high-fived every one of them on my way through.

at mile 16 was the first of 4 hills. It was bad, but my legs are surprisingly accustomed to them. On all 4 of them, i blew by boatloads of people. Mile 20 was Heartbreak Hill, the final hill. This was the start of my going mental. I started singing to myself. "heartbreak's gonna be my bitch to-day, do dah, do dah" (to the tune of camptown races).

Mile 21 was downhill and my legs and feet were really hurting from the lack of training. It is, however, quite amazing what a good dose of crazy can do for you.

Mile 22 comes around and I catch my first glimpse of the Prudential Building. I smile. Big. Dumb. Grin. A mid 40's lady sees me as I run by and cheers me on "22 miles and still smiling! Go 4433!" Bigger. Dumb. Grin.

Mile 23 and the crowds are getting big. Strangely enough, most of the crowds are quite young. My age or younger. I witness a 50 year old runner chug a beer offered to him by one of the fans. Amazing...and stupid. Even I'm not that crazy. But I start high fiving tons and tons of fans. Every time I hit a hand, my feet get lighter.

Mile 25 - As I'm doling out the high fives, I pass a girl holding up a sign. "25 kisses for 25 miles". I get 4 steps past her. I stop. I turn around. I go back. I lay one on her. The crowd goes nuts! I laugh like crazy and do my "rocky conquering the stairs" act and jog away from her with my arms raised in the air.

Mile 25.2 - I spot Tim's jacket and see Holly ready and waiting with the camera. I slow down. I slow way down. I walk. I strike a pose. I do a runway walk. I strike another pose. "i'm too sexy for this race, too sexy for this race..." I strike a third pose. i take off.

1/2 mile left. We round the corner and I can see the finish line. I start my natural look-for-people-to-pick-off routine but my eyes keep returning to the finish line. My grin gets bigger and my pace gets quick. I admit that I had a tear or two in my eyes knowing that I was about to conquer a huge milestone. Normally, I get angry at the end of a race trying to pick people off. This was very different. I felt...greed. I looked at the finish line with more desire than for any of Playboy's centerfolds. No, I'm not gay. Now shut your face.

1/4 mile left and my legs are no longer tired. nothing hurts. my feet are light and flying over the ground. i bet my last 1/4 was less than 1:20. other runners seem like they're standing still.

finish line - biggest. dumb. grin. ever. oh yea, and all the pain returns.