Oh my loves, I deeply apologize for not writing in several months, but oh how I have had writers brain and substack on my mind. Let me tell you where I have been…
I am not even sure I know where to begin. I think I mentioned previously that about 6 months ago I fully committed to running the Boston Marathon for Dana-Farber. Or maybe I left a few details out, because I still hadn’t wrapped my head around the idea of running an entire marathon. That shit is far…
However, in the last 6 months my life has had a few wild transitions, blissful changes, fundraising galore, and a lot of miles beneath my feet. It was a bit daunting at first to think about fully, so maybe I just chose not to really fully consider it. I just took it mile by mile, dollar by dollar, and life change by life change. And, like many, when I have a lot going on like this and I have to enter a phase of focus, I become like a turtle. Inside my shell, creating, and keeping a strong eye on the desired finish line. In this case, it was an actual finish line. THE finish line.
In the middle of training I hit a bit of a hiccup. After a glorious 15 mile run one Sunday afternoon, I woke up on Monday barely able to walk. It felt like I was hit with a bat or that someone overstretched the bottom of my foot like a sad elastic band. Oh, no, this is it. I’m cooked. I had the injury checked out, just to make sure I really didn’t fracture something. Turns out I am just 38 and attempting to run a marathon. Go figure.
Training stagnated a bit, mainly spent biking in my living room watching reruns on TV. I think the resistance on the bike helped though, prepping my quads for what was coming. Maybe my body was more aware of what I needed than I was. God, she always knows.
So, I hobbled along. Getting a run in here or there in between a major job transition and still getting those wild first graders off to school. Biking like a wild woman, working up a sweat all before 7am. I trained solo because life and group runs didn’t fit, but that was okay. I found myself enjoying the time to myself. I hadn’t run like this in over 20 years, it started to feel good.
Fast forward, April was nearing. Holy crap, I actually have to run THE marathon that I had been training for. I panicked. Every day, I panicked. Doubt crept in, imposter syndrome came to eat lunch with me, you name the catastrophe and I had thought of it. What a mental game training is. Or just any big accomplishment or goal we set really, the mental piece of it is where the work is. I would ask myself daily what I was thinking, yet still going through the motions I needed to in order to conquer this. And, in true fashion, I was just winging it mostly. Hoping my legs felt good, hoping my mind would allow me to sleep even just a little, and fueling my body with all the necessary things. I just did the work and prayed.
As my birthday approached in March, my beloved sister friend grabbed me by my shoulders one day in my fit of overwhelm and basically said, “for the love of God let us love you or help you or celebrate, something!” In an act of deep surrender, I let them. Here, take the reins. Plan a party. Make the posters. Oh right, WE ARE MEANT TO CELEBRATE JOY. We are meant to celebrate life and one another. Oh right. I thank them deeply for reminding me of this key training/life element.
2 weeks to go, oh my. The cheese had all but slipped off my cracker by this point. I just tried to not work myself up into a panic on the daily. It helped to go for little runs, check to see if my shorts were going to sag, make sure my shoes stayed tied the way I wanted them to, tested out gross gu’s to eat. If anything, I am really great at running and snacking, so I knew I had that going for me. The rest just became straight prayer. Prayer to the weather God’s, prayer that the kid coordination plan for the day would workout, and just surrendering to the deep trust I have in my people to show up and support me, even if I “failed”.
The fear of failure is so daunting isn’t it? If this experience has taught me anything, it’s that failure is never trying in the first place. If I got to that start line and made it a few miles, then okay. But if my brain stopped me before beginning, that’s where I had to draw the line for myself. That’s where the constant work is to keep trying and keep going. The burning desire to live out experiences, not just think about doing them. This 6 month journey was breaking my own self imposed internal barriers, one by one.
On Marathon Eve I attended the Dana-Farber pasta dinner. Talk about feeling inspired and a true reminder that you are running for a larger than life cause. To hear the stories of lives saved through the fundraising efforts of this organization, it’s incredible. I can see how people come back year after year to be a part of this incredible team. 500 Dana-Farber runners would run on Monday. 8 million dollars in counting being raised… truly, I am humbled to be a part of this experience.
Then one morning, after a drive to Hopkinton, I found myself in Athlete’s Village. Um, athlete’s village. What?! It’s actually a pretty chill place and you mostly wait in a porta potty line, no big deal. However, I had not been in a “race” in a really long time. Bib numbers flying, the smell of icy hot, it all brought me back in a rather nostalgic way.
I had done some race research and watched some videos of what to expect. It helped to know not to take the first few miles too fast, even though you are running in a stampede. But, I paced myself. I knew I didn’t want to go too fast and fizzle out. I knew that I wanted to stay fully present, taking in the crowds, and the entirety of the day. I knew it was hot and needed to stay hydrated. I was so conscious of each and every moment, it was incredible. The collective humanity that comes out in full support for the Boston Marathon is awe inspiring. It is moments like this that remind me that we are ALL capable of coming together for something bigger than ourselves. Every age, sex, race, color, creed, denomination… out there cheering. Handing out food, high fives, beer, and lots of love. Signs like, “all toenails go to heaven,” “your parents were wrong about you,” and “you’re running faster than the T,” cracked me up throughout the course. But the spirit of Boston, it does carry you the 26.2 miles.
I haven’t been able to fully put words to it, try as a might. I think the only thing I can liken it to, is entering a deep meditation. You know you are running and moving, you are aware and can hear everything around you, and yet there is this deep silence. There is a stillness that happens within, a peace. Each step, just one after the other. The sun beaming down on your face. The kindness of everyone on the course. The incredible volunteers handing you water, gatorade, and words of encouragement. You just keep going.
I saw my daughters for the first time at mile 6. Gah, I was still in good shape and gave them the biggest squeeze. What do they see when they see me doing things like this? I wonder. From mile 7, I put some music on. I knew the next place I saw my framily would be closer to mile 19. I had a ways to go. Knowing they would be waiting there kept me going. Through the hills. Through the quieter roads. You pass 95 and think, damn I am far from Boston. One foot after the other.
I came around the corner about 18.5 and the sight of my collective people had me burst into tears. Tears of joy, excitement, gratitude, love, and I was just bursting. There are moments in life that remind you of how truly loved you are, this was one I will never forget. All the kids were excited. My daughters proceeded to tell me how someone was running and juggling (this is still their core memory of the marathon). Everyone was having a blast, and I loved seeing their joy.
As I hit the road for the last 1/3 of the race, I was just awed. The entire time, to stay grounded, I just kept saying to myself, “omg I am running the Boston Marathon.” This has been a bucket list and dream for so long. Ever since I skipped school in high school to watch the race for the first time, it’s as if I knew I would be back here again one day to do it.
Coming into Brookline and Boston, incredible. I took my earbud out about 3 miles to go, to absorb the energy of the crowds. To soak it in deeply into my skin. I communed with Jaime, my beloved friend who inspired this entire pipe dream. I asked her for a heavenly push at the end, as I could feel my legs getting a bit clumsy. Then a voice behind me says, “Jaime says to keep going.” “Go Jaime.” This Earth Angel, someone running behind me, was delivering the messages from above. Holy hell, we were all doing this profound thing. To be back with the charity runners too, about 8,000 of us running for so many causes, we had such purpose in every step. I was carried and lifted by so many things beyond human comprehension in those last few miles.
I turned up Hereford. It dawned on me, this is it, I have made it.
Boylston.
The finish line.
The actual finish line of the Boston Marathon.
Holy.
It’s actually a very surreal feeling. Out of body but you are completely in your body all at the same time. I still don’t believe it.
If you have stayed with me this far, thank you for reading. Thank you for letting me share my day and my joy with you. This was a journey far deeper than a day, one that I learned so much from. One that is still integrating into my bones.
Here’s what came out of it:
The goals I wish to reach take a certain kind of discipline. With this, I couldn’t procrastinate (which I am prone to do). It required training, time, boundaries, and setting aside that space for this purpose.
There will always be naysayers. The chirpers in the corner who whisper that you are crazy or can’t do it. Hell, I even had some naysayers still saying they didn’t think I could do it AFTER I had already done it. You won’t change their minds, you just have to keep doing what you want to do. Let them naysay, it’s not yours to hold onto.
The people who love you will show up AND they will show up easily and freely. Those that just say, “yes I will be there.” No questions. No barriers. Just saying yes with you for the whole damn thing.
Your mind, oh how she will F with you. Don’t let her stop you. Of course your mind wants to protect you from harm or “failure” - that’s her job. Your job, is to say, I am going to do it anyway and it is going to be okay, no matter how it turns out.
You will be so much more disappointed in yourself if you don’t even try. Try my love, try for all of the things that you desire to do. Keep working at it all, step by step.
Be brave in doing epic shit. Trust that there is a reason your dreams are living inside of you.
The finish line is just the beginning.
This experience liberated something within me, and for that I am divinely grateful. I cannot wait to see what comes next.
More Bliss and Burnt Toast to come… 2024 has only just begun. ;)
All the love and depths of gratitude,
ah