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.

The Boston 26

Running long distance is just as much about the mental game as it is the physical game. For most races I come up with 3 to 5 reasons that I'm running. With as important as Boston is to me, I came up with 26 reasons. Most of the them are people but some are just things that got me going. Here they are (some of them you will never get to know...just deal).

Mile 1: Mom & Dad who, even though they thought i was putting myself in danger, still supported me from day 1 of my first marathon.
Mile 2: The Baf mile. Because he's dealt with something harder than I ever will and did it with an incredible sense of humor.
Mile 3: Scott. My brother who ran my third marathon with me. The best finish line ever.
Mile 4: Val, who first gave me the idea to do a marathon.
Mile 5: Suzanne, who gave me my own non race number piece of memorabilia that has made my wall.
Mile 6: All six of my neices and nephews.
Mile 7: Zschiel's mile for being my first running partner.
Mile 8:
Mile 9:
Mile 10: The top 10%...of everything.
Mile 11: Post race food. Lots and lots of post race food.
Mile 12: Ammie's mile for freezing her tail off during my qualifying race and for teaching me a whole lot about myself.
Mile 13: Half way home. Keep your form, keep your pace. You'll be fine.
Mile 14: Racing fork lifts with Michael.
Mile 15: Because feeling awful can still feel good.
Mile 16: Lohner. The man who showed me how murderous yet satisfying hills can be.
Mile 17: As it turns out, I left mile 17 off my cheat sheet and only discovered this when i went to copy it to my arm on monday morning. So i guess i only came up with 25.
Mile 18: Tiff and Ethan for cheering on Scott and I at mile 18 back in Chicago.
Mile 19: Because just like life, hills are hard. Get used to it.
Mile 20: Heartbreak hill. The legend of Boston.
Mile 21: The RMCF crew. If I didn't have such a great, reliable crew, I'd still be working 100 hours/week.
Mile 22: The Hebda Challenge. Hebs managed to extract the most competitive beast in me yet and taught me that i can force myself to do damn near anything for 4 miles.
Mile 23: Tonya's mile. No matter how bad my legs will hurt at this point, she's dealt with worse and always with a smile.
Mile 24: Eric, who made Boston (or Somerville) his home for 7 years.
Mile 25: Tim & Holly who were there for both qualifying and the victory lap to check this one off.
Mile 26: This mile was all mine.

long overdue ski trip post

the movie is now up from my spectacular ass kicking delivered by the double black diamond that is pakalolo. check it out here (thanks V).



as i have blogged before, the ski trip is always intense both physically and mentally. we ski hard and then at night turn to some topic of debate over drinks.

this year featured the evil infused device called the monoski adapter. Essentially you attach both feet to a single piece of wood that then attaches to a single ski. V jumps in first and makes it look easy. Sure, I can do this. Did I mention that he and his dad are the top skiers on this trip? I get into this thing and Holy Frosty's Snowballs is it hard. i don't think i made it more than 15 feet without falling. But then again, i'm the least talented skier on the trip.