Sometimes, that's just the way the cookie crumbles

I started running after college to fill the void of no longer playing competitive teams sports. A volleyball player thought high school and college, I kind of thrive on a training schedule, competition and athletic goals. For the same reasons, I think I have come to love running - both the activity itself and the training for races. And what greater race to train for than a marathon.

The difference though is that in volleyball, one bad game could be rectified with 20+ possible other opportunities in a given season. Training for a marathon is all about one day. And if the day doesn't go as planned, the next opportunity is a bit further away than right around the corner.

Such was my experience yesterday at the 115th Boston Marathon. All signs pointed to a great race. My training was stronger than it had ever been and I felt great on Monday morning. I wasn't nervous, but just excited and happy to be running the race. I was running with my friend Jason, who had given up his spot in corral #2 to pace me to my marathon goal, and couldn't have been happier about having such a great running partner.

Things started out well. One of the challenges of being a non-qualified runner for Boston is starting in the way back with the other non-qualified runners. The first 4-5 miles were very congested. Several times being stopped in my tracks by a wall of runners quite a bit slower in front of me. But despite that, I was on pace after the first 5 miles. Miles 5-10 opened up a bit and I ran comfortably, again hitting my goal pace as of Mile 10. Miles 10-15 started out well too and I crossed the 1/2 way point about 20 seconds under pace.

But around Mile 14 I started to feel a little off. I noticed my hip (THE hip) was starting to ache a bit. I have to say, of any body part, that's the one I am super tuned into these days, so I started to drop my pace a little and paid attention to how things were feeling. Slowly though, things got worse instead of better. By mile 18, I hardly noticed my hip because my quads and calves had started cramping pretty bad. I made an effort to drink more as I chugged away up the hills. I found a short burst of energy when I saw friends at the top of Heartbreak Hill and hoped I could sustain it, but by the waterstop at Mile 21, I was walking trying to shake out the cramps that were now really slowing me down.

Only 5 miles to go. But these 5 felt like 500. I wanted so badly to run faster but my legs disagreed. I started cramping in my feet - my feet! That has NEVER happened before on a run. So I just plodded along. Walking through waterstops to try to down fluids that might ease the cramping (it didn't). I had visualized running strong through Kenmore Square so many times as this race approached. I was supposed to be smiling and having fun, ignoring the inevitable aches, knowing I was on my way to my best marathon ever. Unfortunately, my trip through Kenmore was a bit different yesterday. Head down and focused on just getting the damn race over with. I didn't even want to see if anyone was there cheering for me. I just wanted it to end.

Right on Hereford, left on Boylston and I could see the finish line. We moved to the left so I could see my parents who had been camped out there all day waiting for me. The night before, my mom told me that whatever happened on race day, I was not allowed to cry unless my leg was falling off. Seeing as it was not that bad, I waved and smiled as I passed by my folks. With the finish ahead, I noticed my watch said 3:59:25. It was a long shot, but I was going to try to at least stay under 4 hours. I picked up the pace and ran what felt like a sprint for the last tenth of a mile. Jason grabbed my hand for an arms raised crossing of the finish line (it's good for the photos :) as we crossed at 4:00:19.

Yesterday was definitely not the day I had envisioned through out 4 months of training. I'm definitely disappointed and frustrated that my hard work did not end with the result I had worked so hard to achieve. However, even if I am not ready to embrace it yet, I also realize that what happened yesterday is still an accomplishment, if in a slightly different way. I still ran a marathon 51 weeks after having hip surgery. And I still finished that marathon, despite wanting to cut my legs off at mile 22. Oh, and I have raised almost $5000 for the Alzheimer's Association in the process.

If I could have had it my way, I would have wrote the ending to my Boston Marathon story a bit differently. But it is what it is and instead will do my best to learn for the experience. It's still my goal to run a 3:40 marathon. Yesterday was just not the day and sometimes, that's just the way the cookie crumbles. I'll just have to figure out another way to make it happen.