An Amazing Race

" I don't run to see who is the fastest, I run to see who has the most guts" - Steve Prefontane

I wanted to do something that 99.9% of runners never do, qualify for Boston. To qualify for the Boston Marathon, runners have to run a marathon within a certain amount of time, that time is determined by age and sex. For most runners, finishing a marathon within this allotted time is no easy task, so I decided that I would try to qualify for Boston by running the St. George Marathon within 3:40:59.

Starting out I had a couple of strikes working against me:

1- I had run a marathon just the week before. This was all because of bad planning. Todd had wanted to run a marathon and I was going to run the Akron marathon with him, but this was all planned and paid for before I decided that I had wanted to try to qualify. I was thinking of just sitting Akron out and being Todd's cheerleader on the sideline, but when asked what he preferred he answered that he preferred to have me by his side, especially since we did our long runs together and had great experiences together doing this. Running the Akron marathon was all fine and dandy, but it meant that I was on my legs for 26.2 miles one week before trying to qualify, while I was supposed to be tapering.

2- Not only was Akron not good to have me on my feet so long, but it actually discouraged me mentally. It had taken us 5:20 to finish the marathon, and it hurt. My body ached so incredibly much, not only from the sheer duration but also from the shuffling of my feet. I found relief in either speed walking or every once in awhile I would sprint ahead then wait for Todd to catch up. My body had wanted to go faster, but I had chosen to stick with Todd. Even though I knew that I was not going my normal speed, I felt less confident that I could run a lot faster.

3- I was going to be running at a much higher altitude than what I was acclimated to. We are living very close to sea level here, yet I was going to be running in the mountains!

4- The desert heat can be unbearable, especially since I am use to living in humidity that you can almost sink your teeth into. (But the dry weather does make my hair look better)

5- My fastest marathon to date was 4:45. Shaving just 15 minutes off of your PR (Personal Record) can be insanely difficult.

But I had one major thing going for me: Carol.

Carol is an amazing runner. She qualifies for Boston every time she runs a marathon. She runs 50 mile trails for fun. She is a self-trained Ironman, and not just any Ironman, but the St. George Ironman, the one that is so difficult that even the Ironman-junkies won't sign up for it because it's so intimidating. She is a great athlete and even more wonderful person. She has been my homeschooling mentor, seeing her family will make anyone want to homeschool. She's a great motivator and pushes people to be their best, much like The Biggest Loser's Jillian Michaels, but she is a lot less annoying, more understanding and much more inspiring and encouraging. She always pushes herself to the best that she can, easy run is not in her vocabulary, yet she is not afraid to skip a run or workout to snuggle with her kids.

Whenever I am in Utah I try to hit the trails with Carol and Kris (another great runner and Ironman who likes to start the marathon a good 15 minutes after the race has officially started so that he can "kill" or pass other runners during the entire race....a little sick but mentally very smart). They have given me a lot of great advice and have encouraged me in all my racing endeavors, having much more faith in my abilities than I could ever muster.

I knew that trying to get Boston would be difficult, maybe even unattainable, but I was sure that with Carol by my side, pacing me and pushing me forward, I.COULD. DO. IT.

Todd was able to come to Utah to run the race as well. We got a good friend to babysit the kids and we were able to have a second honeymoon---yet what kind of sick people would go run 26.2 miles during their only time away from their kids? We really should have rethought that one.

Because I had such bad bowel issues during the Akron marathon, I was extremely careful of everything I put into my mouth on Friday. For once, bland was my focus. This took a lot of self-control especially since I love a lot of flavor in my food.

Evening before the race I talked to Carol just to make sure that I wasn't forgetting anything. She gave me some last minute advice on running uphills, and enduring the race. She said that in some ways running is like going through labor, you have to know going in that there will be times of great pain, moments that you may have to just even focus on counting to ten in order to be able to endure and keep running.

The last thing Carol counseled me on was the fact that no matter how prepared you are for a marathon, there are times that things just do not work out as planned. You may have bowel issues, leg problems, foot aches, weather, and anything else beyond your control that keep you from your goal. In those races you just have to accept that there is only so much that you can do. Honestly this did make me a little nervous, but I tried to not dwell on it too much. I understood her point, a marathon is such a long distance that anything could effect the outcome.

After a sleepless night, we were up at 3:45 to go for our race. I had set out all my things the night before, so it was just a matter of putting my clothes on and grabbing something to eat. I went to grab my traditional bagel and banana when I remembered that that is what I had for breakfast before Akron yet while training in Utah this summer I found that a cup of cheerios, no milk, was the best thing for my tummy before running.

My mom's running friends, including Carol and Kris, came over to my mom's house so that we could all ride to the starting line together. In this group included Todd, my mom, Carol's hilarious husband Jeff, a sweet and super friendly Janelle - which it was her first marathon, Janelle's two sons, the younger one only being 13!, Lyndee's friend Melissa that we had just met, and a gal from my mom's ward Kristen, a guy my mom is dating, and two Japanese women that my mom was hosting in her home for the marathon. Needless to say that the van was quite noisy the entire ride up to the race, especially with Jeff's quirky comments.Kristen, Melissa, Jeff, Carol, Mom, Kent, Janelle, Kaden, Jace, Me

We got up to the starting line and hung out in the van for as long as we could. It is always cold up at the starting line and we wanted to stay warm as long as we could. When we got out of the van we were all surprised to how warm it was, no shivering was occurring with us. We should have taken that as a sign of the heat that would hit us ahead, but we didn't.

We all found a bush to go to the bathroom behind, not wanting to wait in line to use a stinky port-a-potty. Todd decided to wait in line and almost missed the start of the race because the line had taken so long. Carol was a little nervous, already she was having bowel issues. Not good.

We said goodbye to our group as Carol and I lined up to be around the people running our pace. Most marathons have Pacers, people who run the marathon while holding up a sign stating the pace they are going to be running and the finish time they will be accomplishing. They can be anywhere from 3:15 to 6:00. I've never stayed with one, but they are helpful in letting you know where in a marathon you are pacing at. We lined up near the guy carrying the 3:30 pacing balloons.

Carol had sent me a pacing chart specifically made for the hills of St. George. I was counting on depending solely on Carol for my pace, but she had told me to have the pace printed out and wear my watch so that I could pace myself if needed. I decided to write the mile times on my arm. I had written the times up to mile 18 and decided to not write anymore because I figured if I made it to mile 18 on time, then I had it in the bag, and also because I didn't have anymore room on my left arm and writing left-handed on my right arm proved to be difficult.The race started, and it was like running with cattle. I like seeing so many people involved in the same thing, yet it is so annoying to be running so closely to so many people. I feel like the whole time I'm going to get kicked and you have to maneuver around people. Good thing it thins out a little bit after the first couple of miles.

Carol and I were able to talk a little bit for the first couple of miles, but even then, she wasn't on her A game. She wasn't doing terrible, better than me, but I could tell that she was having a more difficult time than usual. Good thing I had my ipod.

Carol had told me to bring my ipod and to make sure that I had fast songs on it. I have a running playlist that I thought would be sufficient, but is not what I normally run to. I actually usually run to a Christian playlist. I've got Casting Crowns, Fireproof soundtrack among others on this playlist. I really like this music and find it to be so inspiring and allows such great thoughts to pass through my mind as I am running, but I figured that it probably would be better to listen to the fast music for the faster tempo may help speed me up during the race.

Thursday I had gone on a short run and decided to listen to my "Running" playlist. Even though I was only running for 30 minutes, I had the hardest time. I couldn't focus and I was not enjoying myself. The last 5 minutes I decided to switch to my "Christian" playlist and the difference was amazing. I felt lifted, incredibly high and happy. I decided to go with what works for me, even during the marathon, and I was grateful that I did.

I had a really enjoyable run. The scenery was amazing, the mountains were amazing. I actually have a difficult time getting motivated to go running when I come back home to suburbia after running in the mountains of Utah because the scenery is so beautiful compared to just seeing house after house. It is a totally different running experience.

My body was working for me, it felt great. Yes, there were moments of fatigue, moments of ache, but overall I felt great, especially considering the distance I was running.

Running uphill was difficult, especially the dreaded Veyo hill at mile 7. Thankfully Carol had advised me to focus on someone that was going just a smidgen faster than I was, get right behind them and draft, or follow them up the hill. It really helped me to keep focus on running and not slowing down.

Downhills were my specialty. When I was younger, from Kindergarten until I got my driver's license, I rode the bus home everyday after school. The bus would drop me off a mile from my house. Now, this was not an easy mile, it was half a mile up a steep mountain and half a mile down the mountain. Add that with the 3 PM desert sun and heat and I think somebody should have contacted Child Protection Services. My dad claims it was his way of giving us Character Building activities, I call it neglect - but do agree that it made me a better person. I had a lot of great thinking sessions occur on that long road alone. It allowed me a lot of time to ponder and analyze my life, even when I was only 7. I remember pondering about God and His existence and coming to the realization that He was real.

Anyway, back to the point, that mountain was very steep, both up and down. There were many parts going downhill that it was easier to run down rather than try to carefully go down it slowly. I learned to lean back, keep my back and head vertical, and let my legs just fly as my feet just barely touched the ground as my backpack bounced against my back.

This skill of running down hills proved to be very beneficial in this particular marathon. Going down the hills I had a longer stride than Carol and therefore was able to get ahead of her. This was a huge advantage because then it meant that I had extra time to get a little ahead before she would come up from behind and push me with a faster pace. Besides the downhills and one port-a-potty stop, Carol and I ran together and whenever the exception occurred, Carol was fast to catch up with me and keep us going, fast.

Around mile 14 we were approaching another downhill. Carol turned to me and told me that I could do downhills fast, so to take advantage of every downhill. That gave me a shot of confidence that I needed and I was off.

I was feeling pretty good, very optimistic. Before my difficult time has always occurred between miles 14-19, but now I had hit miles 14, 15, 16 and was feeling great. I felt as though I could go all day. I hadn't seen Carol since leaving her around mile 14 but I was expecting to see her race past me at any moment.

I was getting fatigued, hot and thirsty. I had passed mile 18, felt fine...not great but not terrible. The aid stations were at times 2 miles apart and the cups they handed out were filled with only 2 inches of fluid. It was said to be the hottest that the marathon has ever been and all they could give us is 2 inches of water!

I had no more pace times listed on my arm and therefore had to do the math in my head. I don't like to focus on my time while I run, I like to try to enjoy my run as much as I can, just check my time at the mile markers or at the end, but with a specific finishing goal I had to focus on my time more than I like to. I started doing the math in my head "Okay, I do...umm...6 miles an hour....got 7 miles left.....oh,....no.....there's no way I can make it with just less than an hour left!!..................oh, wait,....no, .......I do 8 miles in 64 minutes!!!Okay, I am still in this..haha...bad math skills.....that's why I've got 4 kids."

From mile 20 it started getting more difficult to keep running hard. I started to realize that I wouldn't be seeing Carol. I was longing for her, but tried to keep myself focused. I tried to ignore the fact that my legs wanted to just stop, I tried to focus on making it to the next aid station. I. was. thirsty.

Around mile 23 we came out of the hills to run through the city. Not nearly as beautiful. I was struggling. I hit the wall. I was praying. I was counting. I was doing anything/everything I could think of to keep myself going. It was not easy, I wouldn't even say it was fun, it was painful. I was having a tough time then it just got tougher when the 3:40 pacer came up from behind me to pass me.

I could not get behind that guy. That was the time I needed to make. With every source of strength I could muster, I forced myself to follow him and keep up with him. I didn't even notice anyone else around me, runners nor spectators, I was focused on the guy carrying the 3:40 balloons. We passed the 24 mile mark...great, but still....2 MORE!! Ugh!! Focus focus focus. Forget the pain, forget the misery. I will not miss Boston by a measly minute or two!

1 mile left, I could not believe how incredibly long a mile was. INSANE that I could run 25 other miles and this one mile seemed to stretch on longer than I could ever imagine.

Finally I turned the last corner with the spectators yelling "Just two more blocks" - do you have any idea how long 2 blocks can seem?. I saw the 3:40 pacer just up ahead of me and at the end of the long 2 blocks I saw the portable plastic fencing leading up to the balloon archway signaling the finish line.

I could do it, but only if I pushed it. It was the moment where I put everything on the table, there was no holding back. I searched my entire body and soul for any thing that would help me propel forwards. I was running. I was passing people. I was getting closer. I was feeling hot. I was filling dizzy. My eyes were loosing focus, but there was the finish line, right there. I was going to make it! Barely, but still going to make it!! I pushed just a little bit more than BAM!!!

Ten feet in front of the finish line I found myself on the ground, on my face. I was stunned, a little confused. I knew the clock was ticking and that I had to hurry and get up. I put one leg underneath me and as I tried to put weight on it I fell to the ground again.

I was wondering if I could crawl, if I could crawl to the finish line in time. Meanwhile an Army solider came running up and with the help of what I assumed to be another soldier helped me across the finish line. I later found by looking at pictures that it was not another soldier but another fellow runner, Michael Hobbins. I do not know him, only found his name by doing some research, but can only find his name. In running you can meet some of the neatest people.

I was taken over to the side where I was asked where I was from. Inside my mind I knew that they were asking me these questions to see if I was coherent, and in my mind I knew the answer and thought I had given it, but I am assuming that I failed to give them the answer for they took me into the med tent, laid me on a cot, and stuck an IV in me, all of which is very blurry in my memory.

I laid/slept there for 45 minutes, slipping in and out of consciousness. I woke up very aware of how thirsty I was and asked the first person walking by for a drink. I was given a Gatorade, but was soon disappointed as I discovered that I could not raise my head to drink it. Also, what was that stinging in my eyes...was that my sweat trickling into my eyes?

The nurse/volunteer asked me if I had anyone waiting for me. My dad and sisters were supposed to be at the finish line to cheer me on. I assumed that since my super paranoid, super protective father was not in the tent insisting to have me transported to the hospital that they must not have made it to the race. But I did have a van load of runners that I had traveled to the race with, so I did have someone.The nurses/volunteers were anxious to get me out of the med tent even though Todd later said
that they should have given me another one or two bags of saline drops. They did not have enough cots or room for everyone. There were so many runners lying on the ground because of the lack of room and lack of cots. The day had been so incredibly hot that a lot of people were suffering from dehydration. Most likely I had passed out because of dehydration.

Once my consciousness had started to come back I immediately got worried that my finish wouldn't count since I was helped across the finish line. A volunteer calmed my fears by letting me know that it still counted. That was good news...but what was my time? I had known that I was going to make it in time...barely, until I passed out. I wasn't sure of where my time stood now, I knew it would be close, one way or another, but which side, I had no idea.

When I was able to stand I made my way over to the runner's finishing area. I looked around and was not able to spot any of the runners from our van. I grabbed some food and sat down to eat it as I waited. Ten minutes later Kris came over and asked me how I did. I told him what had happened and that I still wasn't sure of my final time. He pointed over to a board where they posted the results and said that he would go check it for me. He came back a few minutes later, not saying anything. This made me nervous so I inquired what my time was. They hadn't posted it yet.

I got more nurishment and rest and started to feel more aware of the world around me. I went and watched the finish line looking for Todd, I checked the results board many times, they still hadn't posted anything since 3:33.

Todd finally came in at 5:25. He was struggling. He came across and lied on the ground not caring that the long string of port-a-potties were just feet away from his head...and it did not smell pretty. He asked me if I got Boston. I told him what had happened. After being with him for awhile I decided to go check the results board again.

I wondered over to the Results board and was disappointed that they still hadn't posted anything more. I glanced over and saw a tent across the grass that was displaying a vinyl sign that read "Results". I walked over to the tent. There were no other runners hanging out there so the volunteer noticed me walking up and started typing on her computer. I assumed that she would just tell me my time but then a little paper was printing out near her. She tore it off and handed it to me.

I had not known the outcome of my race two hours after finishing and now I was going to be finding out if I had just barely made Boston or just barely missed it. The moment of truth had come. My heart was racing, I was praying, praying for what I desired while praying for strength to accept the outcome. I looked down at the paper......

There next to my name was the time of 3:40:19! I had made it! I made it with only 41 seconds to spare! I made it with the difference of one bathroom stop or had I taken 2 extra seconds at each water stop. I was stunned with my good fortune. Of course I started crying.
I ran over to tell Todd. He had seen the tears in my eyes and assumed the worst. He hugged me to comfort me when I told him, "NO!! I made it! I made it!". Just then my mom had finished the race and was entering the finisher's area. I ran to tell her and in response I got a huge tug with many sobs of joy. The remainder of the day I felt great, was able to run across parking lots...I guess I was on a high. The next couple of days afterward I was more sore than I have ever been in my life. I ached just sleeping, walking up and down stairs was excruciating. When I had fallen I had cut up my knee pretty badly. It didn't hurt too much until the next day. It was incredibly sore as well, but I guess everyone has a price to pay.When seeing my mom's friend Kent the day after the marathon he asked how I was feeling. When I told him that I was the most sore I had ever been he said, "Good, you deserve it! You have earned it." That changed my perspective a bit. I tried to focus on the joy of knowing that I pushed my body to it's limits, and succeeded.

I'm still in shock that I accomplished my goal, and with such a dramatic story to go with it- I am not one for drama so I do not know why it follows me around! I do question why I was able to get my goal, I don't feel like I necessarily deserved it. I feel like there are others that deserve it more than I do. I know there were a lot of people that had a really unexpected difficult time with the race, even super-human Carol said it was her worst marathon ever. I should not have made it especially since I was counting on Carol was going to be my ticket during the difficult times. Plus I don't feel like this goal was a live or die goal, had I not accomplished it life would have gone on as usual, except I wouldn't be making a trip out to Boston in April. Why did I get to be so blessed? I will never know, so rather than question I will feel and express gratitude to the Lord. I know that it is because of Him and His love and mercy that I was able to accomplish this goal. He is my source of strength and to Him I am grateful.