Thankful For Accomplishing A Dream

Happy Thanksgiving, folks! I'm writing to you from the Great North Woods of Maine. We're here celebrating with our extended family as per tradition. More to come from Maine, but first I wanted to tell you about the Philly Marathon -- I did it!

After six years of half marathons, injuries, and false starts, I was just thankful to be standing at the starting line. As they played the Rocky theme song I actually started to tear up. I just felt so happy and excited to be injury free and ready to go.


I was wearing a t-shirt with my name ironed on the front, and during the last stretch of six miles or so hearing complete strangers call out my name was such a boost. I gave a triumphant fist in the air for every fan who called out "Go Dallas!" because I'm all about positive reinforcement. Despite the pain in my legs I tried to have a smile on my face.


I never cramped up and never hit the wall, which was a huge relief to me. I was prepared to walk the last three miles if I needed to -- you never know what's going to happen. I went out way too fast thanks to all the speedy half marathoners who were running with us, but I was so pumped up that I let it happen in spite of my better judgement. My hamstrings got really tight just after the half way point, and only got worse for the back stretch up Kelly Drive, but it was maneagable. With about an hour left, I just kept telling myself "I can do anything for an hour." That helped me keep my focus while putting it all in perspective.


It wouldn't have been such an amazing experience without the support of my friends and family. I had such a crew of enthusiastic fans, including my dad who dutifully waited for me at mile 24 like I asked him to, forgoing the opportunity of seeing me at the finish. I spotted him in his yellow coat from about a hundred yards away and started to wave furiously. I crossed my fingers he wasn't wearing his crocs because I wanted him to run with me for a bit, and thankfully he was in his running shoes. We ran together for a little under a mile, which was a huge boost to my mental state and my pace. He called Mr. SevPrez and my mom, who was home with a case of the shingles (poor mom) and let them know he was right by my side and I was coming down the home stretch. A cowbell jingled in his pocket. After we saw the 25 mile marker he pulled away. I tried to turn the pace up even more. I saw Mr. SevPrez just around the bend, and he told me my brother and his family were up on the left.


Seeing them was the wind beneath my wings. They are our best friends, and it meant so much to me that they made the trip to be there for me. My brother was a cross-country star and still inspires me with his running (remember the JFK 50-miler I told you about way back when I started this blog?) and I think I've always wanted to be a runner because of him. His daughter was on his shoulders, and she just makes anyone feel like a million bucks. I pointed right at her, saw the finish line up ahead, and sprinted it in. I have never felt better at the end of a race -- even though I thought I would probably trip over the timing mat at the finish and possibly hurl. I didn't, and it was a perfect moment. 4:14:07. Cross it off the list. I'm already setting my sights on the next big thing.

Spaghetti & Muppets at Marra's in South Philly was the perfect prerace meal.

Day Of Hey

Yesterday may have just been my Day of Hey 2010.

Monday I was so nervous. It could have been my part-caff coffee, but all I could think about was the marathon this Sunday and how I wasn't ready. I got busy planning my pre-race meal with all the lovely people who will be accompanying me in Philly, got a new shirt to potentially wear, and purchased some excellent iron-on letters so spectators can cheer me on by name. That had me feeling a bit better but there was still some inner confidence missing.

Tuesday, thankfully, I had many distractions. There was a Lauren Moffatt sample sale. I cleaned up at lunch time. I was so flabberghasted with everything fitting me like a dream that I had to remind myself at checkout that I am a grown-ass woman who has been working since the day she graduated college. If I can't buy myself beautiful clothes on sale every once in a while, then what is it all for? As my sample sale expert advised me, I deserve it. As I recall the SevPrez family just threw a lot of money at an Ironman because we said so. So today the pendulum swung back in my favor. My birthday does loom!

Then after work I met a friend for the Kings of Leon concert at MSG. Only I was so excited about the rest of my day and bringing a small, light purse that when I left my moleskin planner at the office I didn't realize that our tickets were in it til I got to Midtown. Ugh. This is why I keep copious lists in my planner!

I was determined not to got back to the office. After all, Ticketmaster doesn't actually send you tickets any more, they just charge you "convenience" fees so you can print your tickets anywhere by logging in. So, blocks from MSG, and surrounded by computers, we set out to find a place to print these suckers out. (PS: develop an app, Ticketmaster. This is just pathetic.)

We walked 7 blocks to Kinkos/Fedex, but after feeding them my ATM card, we discovered that their server isn't compatible with Ticketmaster. Then we found a pizza joint on 7th Ave with internet AND a printer. One dollar bought us 10 minutes on the machine, only it took about 6 minutes for each web page to open. With several people pointing us to Staples, we walked North, only to find no such store.

At this point I was overwhelmed with frustration. There is no way I am the first person  who has made this stupid mistake. There was a Verizon store on the corner of 29th and 7th where we thought the Staples would be: I decided my best chance at salvaging the night would be to sweet talk the employees into taking pity on me and letting me use their computer and printer.

Despite the embarrassment of my friend, it worked. Apparently I'm not the first person in my position to seek refuge at Verizon. The staff was empathetic and helpful — they even let me stand behind the counter! In a few minutes we were on our way. We left, hands in a V formation. Humanity defeats the machines!

Once safely ensconced in MSG (where we graduated! Still so exciting), we were treated to an excellent KOL show. They played two of my three  favorite songs ("Manhattan" and "Knocked Up," but not "Taper Jean Girl"), and I was able to recall a few weeks back when dope playlists were all that were getting me through my three hour runs. I could feel my confidence seeping back: I did put in a lot of hours pounding the pavement on my way to my first marathon. It's easy to forget them in my haze of pre-race excitement. And I've really enjoyed the journey. It's been several years in the making, and I know that no matter what race day has in store for me, I am ready, with strong legs and open arms.

I look forward to watching the Pats beat the Colts from the comfort of my couch on Sunday afternoon. Further post-marathon blues will be beat by our Thanksgiving trip to Maine and my birthday. December is shaping up to be full of celebrations: I will seize this November weekend for all it's worth.