Date with the treadmill.
10 miles.
Quads are talking to me.
Keep pushing.
Pain is weakness leaving the body.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Greatest Fear
Felt like this was a good post for today.
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us."
"We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
--Marianne Williamson
I'm starting to feel ready to let the light back out....
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
A tribute to YOU
Uncondtional Love: affection with no limits or conditions; complete love
For the past week, this is what I have felt from family and friends. It has been amazing. Since walking away from the course last Monday, I have been totally overwhelmed by the number of emails, text messages, face book posting, cards, calls and support from friends and family. It has been both healing and painful, in a weird way. It is indescribable how I've felt with all this love pouring in. Although I never felt like anyone ever valued me solely for my running ability (or at least anyone I would call a friend), it has been incredible to hear that you are OK without it. You're OK, no great! even with a DNF. It's a little hard to grapple to be honest, which is why it hurts. Not because I feel like I need to run well to feel good about myself, but because running well does make me feel good about myself---and I really wanted to have that feeling last Monday.
So, in order to get me back on track and also honor all of YOU, who have continued to let me be myself, Jackie, here is a posting of your kind words. I share these for everyone to see the power of kindness. The power of reaching out to friends. I also feel like I want to capture all these words as a reminder to myself, today and in the future, that even when I feel like I've "failed", things will still be OK. I hope everyone is all right with me sharing.... Unfortunately, I do not think I'll be able to put them all up.
I'm pretty sure this was the first message in on Monday:
"Jackie, I love you and am still incredibly proud of you." --Joanne
"Strong amazing and SMART. Definitely not worth the risks. You are a fantastic role model. It is hard to know when enough is enough. That takes smarts and courage. Be sad and pissed for a while. And then hold your head high in confidence. Very proud to be your friend." later... "Mother Nature is a bitch. Seriously. I would kick her ass if I didn't suspect she is closely connected to God." ---Kris
"Love you like a sister. Just hope you're ok...." --Lisa
"Have a good trip! I hope you're not too upset. I'd rather have a functioning Jackie than a finisher Jackie" --Becca
"Are you ok?! Your time dropped off the computer--I am praying you are!!" --Ann
"That is HOT. Unfortunately runners can't control everything on race day. Your decision to stop was wise and had to be a HARD one to do. Good thing you are 30 for a whole year and there will be other marathons to get that 3:0? ;) " --Kristy
"I was so worried about you--so I'm happy you had the sense to do what needed to be done. I give you SO many kudos for training and attempting! Wow!" --Debbie
"Jackie, love you no matter what! You are amazing... and smart for not killing yourself! If you want another go at it, I know 2 girls running a marathon next weekend that you could run with :) not a 3:08 but maybe a 4:08. Love you!" ---Caitlin
I've been meaning to write you to say, "Screw the elements." There wasn't a doubt in anyone's mind that you were going to run 3.0x. Maybe you weren't sure, but everyone else was. You're awesome, you threw your heart and soul into training and GOTR, as well as many others, are forever changed because of that. Don't stop being you. Much love, Laura
"Proud of you sis. You'll pounce on another one. I know the journey was hard but worth it. You're my rock star." --Fritz
"Love you tons Jackie. We're so so SO proud of you! YOU'RE FANTASTIC!" --Dani
Jackie... Heard about Boston....just wanted you to know that I was thinking about you. I know our situations are different, but I know how devastating it is to train and then have things go NOTHING according to plan. Just please know that you are my running hero! You are my inspiration for training and having a passion for running. I'm proud of you for getting through the training, as well as for blogging about it (b/c as you said numerous times....that isn't like you to do). Know that I think you rock! Also, just getting to Boston...Holdy S*** that in itself is an accomplishment :) Hope to see you this Friday. Thinking about you! --Kathleen
Know that all of you have touched me and for that-- I'm forever grateful.
Know that little gestures move hearts.
“Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” --Mother Teresa
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Heartbreak
At the expo on Saturday, I was rummaging through all of the merchandise and fancied a t-shirt that had a heart broken in half with Heartbreaker written across it along with some other text. I looked at it and wanted to kick Heartbreak Hill's butt right then and there. Mentally, my game was 100% on.
Instead, two days later I found myself unwilling to continue the race to make it to the notorious Heartbreak Hill. My heart sank. It is sunk. Since Monday, I've thought over the race and my decision to pull out at the half way point countless times. Unfortunately, each time seems to muddle what once seemed like an easy and appropriate decision.
Well before the start of the race it was evident that Boston was not going to be a PR endeavor. Initially, it almost felt like some relief--the weight of my own expectations were lifted from my shoulders. There was a lot of back and forth conversation, but although other people deferred to next year, I knew this wasn't an option, with all the travel and expenses that had already been incurred, so I tried to be as ready and positive as possible.
There was no way to predict what was about to come. On Monday, I arrived at athlete's village right around 7:30 am. It was already warm. I sat in the village, trying to keep out of the sun and my skin cool for the 2 hours before departing for the starting line. I peed three times from 7:30 until the gun went off. There was no way to get any more fluids in me, and I had been consuming gatorade and water in excess for the past 4 days. My pee was clear.
Standing in the corral awaiting the gun, beads of sweat ran down my chest. My plan was to take it as a nice long, easy run. Well, that didn't happen. Maybe it's because it's a race and I can't hold back, I don't know. Out of the gates I was at or faster than original goal pace---and it felt great! My legs just wanted to go! A good sign that the training had come together. After cruising through the 10k the heat, coupled with the pace, really started to impact my running. I couldn't get cook despite drinking at every station and running through the sprinklers.
Not Good.
So I decided to bargain with myself. Make it through Wellesley to see the girls. It's time to pull out. My feet were scorching. My shoulders felt like they were on fire. Running for possibly two more hours just seemed silly. Why? Just to have another crappy finish time? At that point I guess finishing wasn't the priority. It seemed stupid. My body was hating me already---13 more miles!? This felt worse than Chicago in 2007. Maybe it's because I've had some decent marathons since then too, that I just wasn't ready to put up with that crap. I pulled out at the Red Cross tent at 13.4 miles. Absolute in my decision, I started to process what I had just done.
I thought about all the people on the course cheering for me. The teammate from college--her kids making posters for me--waiting at mile 24. A college friend and husband in Newton--I wouldn't make it to them. Matt--who was bopping around the course, and how I wasn't going to make it to his next spot. I thought about all the people who had sent me cards, words of encouragement and had been my biggest supporters. I thought about all the people who contributed to my fundraising efforts for Girls on the Run. I thought about my team who sent me off in the best way possible. I thought about all my hard work over the past four months.
Only then did I feel like a failure. I feel like I had let people down. I let myself down. But how? There was no way I was going to achieve what I had set out to do anyway! Then I finally let myself cry. In the car, on the way to retrieve my belongings at the finish, amid all the finishers, with their sense of accomplishment and triumph. Medals around their neck and gimps in their step. I longed to be one of them but it wasn't in the cards.
A few days later, I'm still trying to figure this all out. I'm not satisfied with any of it. You don't bust tail and make sacrifices for that long to have a freak hot day on the east coast ruin you. That's how I feel about it. This was supposed to be my curtain call race so to speak, with plans to take a break from marathons for a while. Totally unacceptable. I'm too stubborn. Now my head is all over the place though and I keep looking for which way to go--and I don't know. Run another race? What if that sucks too? Do you try for a marathon? Try for a 1/2? Say that it's over?
Right now there is no answer. I wish I could put my new Boston jacket on and wear it with pride. The tags hang on it, the burnt orange color a reminder of the blazing inferno, as it taunts me. I can't wear it---will I ever?
When running is such a large part of your identity---how do you bounce back, after heartbreak?
Instead, two days later I found myself unwilling to continue the race to make it to the notorious Heartbreak Hill. My heart sank. It is sunk. Since Monday, I've thought over the race and my decision to pull out at the half way point countless times. Unfortunately, each time seems to muddle what once seemed like an easy and appropriate decision.
Well before the start of the race it was evident that Boston was not going to be a PR endeavor. Initially, it almost felt like some relief--the weight of my own expectations were lifted from my shoulders. There was a lot of back and forth conversation, but although other people deferred to next year, I knew this wasn't an option, with all the travel and expenses that had already been incurred, so I tried to be as ready and positive as possible.
There was no way to predict what was about to come. On Monday, I arrived at athlete's village right around 7:30 am. It was already warm. I sat in the village, trying to keep out of the sun and my skin cool for the 2 hours before departing for the starting line. I peed three times from 7:30 until the gun went off. There was no way to get any more fluids in me, and I had been consuming gatorade and water in excess for the past 4 days. My pee was clear.
Standing in the corral awaiting the gun, beads of sweat ran down my chest. My plan was to take it as a nice long, easy run. Well, that didn't happen. Maybe it's because it's a race and I can't hold back, I don't know. Out of the gates I was at or faster than original goal pace---and it felt great! My legs just wanted to go! A good sign that the training had come together. After cruising through the 10k the heat, coupled with the pace, really started to impact my running. I couldn't get cook despite drinking at every station and running through the sprinklers.
Not Good.
So I decided to bargain with myself. Make it through Wellesley to see the girls. It's time to pull out. My feet were scorching. My shoulders felt like they were on fire. Running for possibly two more hours just seemed silly. Why? Just to have another crappy finish time? At that point I guess finishing wasn't the priority. It seemed stupid. My body was hating me already---13 more miles!? This felt worse than Chicago in 2007. Maybe it's because I've had some decent marathons since then too, that I just wasn't ready to put up with that crap. I pulled out at the Red Cross tent at 13.4 miles. Absolute in my decision, I started to process what I had just done.
I thought about all the people on the course cheering for me. The teammate from college--her kids making posters for me--waiting at mile 24. A college friend and husband in Newton--I wouldn't make it to them. Matt--who was bopping around the course, and how I wasn't going to make it to his next spot. I thought about all the people who had sent me cards, words of encouragement and had been my biggest supporters. I thought about all the people who contributed to my fundraising efforts for Girls on the Run. I thought about my team who sent me off in the best way possible. I thought about all my hard work over the past four months.
Only then did I feel like a failure. I feel like I had let people down. I let myself down. But how? There was no way I was going to achieve what I had set out to do anyway! Then I finally let myself cry. In the car, on the way to retrieve my belongings at the finish, amid all the finishers, with their sense of accomplishment and triumph. Medals around their neck and gimps in their step. I longed to be one of them but it wasn't in the cards.
A few days later, I'm still trying to figure this all out. I'm not satisfied with any of it. You don't bust tail and make sacrifices for that long to have a freak hot day on the east coast ruin you. That's how I feel about it. This was supposed to be my curtain call race so to speak, with plans to take a break from marathons for a while. Totally unacceptable. I'm too stubborn. Now my head is all over the place though and I keep looking for which way to go--and I don't know. Run another race? What if that sucks too? Do you try for a marathon? Try for a 1/2? Say that it's over?
Right now there is no answer. I wish I could put my new Boston jacket on and wear it with pride. The tags hang on it, the burnt orange color a reminder of the blazing inferno, as it taunts me. I can't wear it---will I ever?
When running is such a large part of your identity---how do you bounce back, after heartbreak?
Sunday, April 15, 2012
BAA weather advisory email
Just in case you were wondering....
Update to Entrants in Tomorrow's Boston Marathon®
Sunday, April 15, 2012 as of 4:30 p.m.
Running any marathon involves risks
The weather conditions that we will be seeing on Monday, April 16 will involve even more risk. It will involve an increased element of risk to all participants due to the heat. Only the fittest runners should consider participating.
We have put in place a broad array of services and support for our marathon participants, but the risks that will be presented on April 16 will be higher than normal.
Therefore, in cooperation with the Boston Marathon's Medical Team, it is our recommendation that anyone entered in the marathon who has not met the qualifying standards for their age and gender strongly consider not running, and that they strongly consider deferring until next year.
Another essential factor to take into consideration is whether you have ever run a full marathon in weather conditions involving hot temperatures-and that can mean temperatures even lower than those that may be present on Monday. Do NOT assume that any experience you have in running a cooler marathon will be a reliable guide in making the decision in whether to participate or defer. You must factor in the heat.
Everyone who does choose to participate should strongly consider running significantly more slowly that they normally would plan to run a marathon. We have extended the opening of our finish line in support of this recommendation.
For the overwhelming majority of those who have entered to participate in the 2012 Boston Marathon, you should adopt the attitude that THIS IS NOT A RACE. It is an experience.
MOST IMPORTANTLY-everyone needs to take responsibility for their own safety. Ultimately this is an individual sport in which individuals must take responsibility for themselves.
Boston Athletic Association
That's what I've been reading....but don't freak out!
Update to Entrants in Tomorrow's Boston Marathon®
Sunday, April 15, 2012 as of 4:30 p.m.
Running any marathon involves risks
The weather conditions that we will be seeing on Monday, April 16 will involve even more risk. It will involve an increased element of risk to all participants due to the heat. Only the fittest runners should consider participating.
We have put in place a broad array of services and support for our marathon participants, but the risks that will be presented on April 16 will be higher than normal.
Therefore, in cooperation with the Boston Marathon's Medical Team, it is our recommendation that anyone entered in the marathon who has not met the qualifying standards for their age and gender strongly consider not running, and that they strongly consider deferring until next year.
Another essential factor to take into consideration is whether you have ever run a full marathon in weather conditions involving hot temperatures-and that can mean temperatures even lower than those that may be present on Monday. Do NOT assume that any experience you have in running a cooler marathon will be a reliable guide in making the decision in whether to participate or defer. You must factor in the heat.
Everyone who does choose to participate should strongly consider running significantly more slowly that they normally would plan to run a marathon. We have extended the opening of our finish line in support of this recommendation.
For the overwhelming majority of those who have entered to participate in the 2012 Boston Marathon, you should adopt the attitude that THIS IS NOT A RACE. It is an experience.
MOST IMPORTANTLY-everyone needs to take responsibility for their own safety. Ultimately this is an individual sport in which individuals must take responsibility for themselves.
Boston Athletic Association
That's what I've been reading....but don't freak out!
This is where the road took me....
Ok people... Race day is upon us. In order to get to bed at a reasonable time, I will keep this brief and not 100% precise. Here are some figures though:
16 weeks ago I started a journey and set the goal of running a sub 3:10 marathon in Boston at the age of 30.
During that time I averaged roughly 50 miles a week for somewhere around 800 miles. These miles were logged on 3 pairs of Wave Riders (4th for the marathon). These babies now run $115 but I always get a deal.
I had a half dozen or so training buddies that helped me log the miles and For whom I am forever thankful.
My goal was to raise money for Girls on the Run. The goal started at $1000, then $1500, then why not $2000. If you can do it, why not? Nearly 40 donations came in and helped me exceed my goal with a race day total of $2620.00. A big thank you to my parents for the last push and putting me at 100x my distance!
All of these numbers bring me to one that is sort of sad. Tomorrow it is supposed to be 87 degrees. Having lived through Chicago in 2007 I know this means my dream of a sub 3:10 is out of reach.
It breaks my heart a little really. All this time and effort--and I don't get to put the hard work on the line tomorrow. I'm hoping to run a smart and safe race. Some friends aren't running because they know it's not a PR day. But you know what? I'm here. I worked hard and I want to cross that finish line!
It's time for bed. Thank you for all the well wishes. I can't believe I'm running tomorrow!
16 weeks ago I started a journey and set the goal of running a sub 3:10 marathon in Boston at the age of 30.
During that time I averaged roughly 50 miles a week for somewhere around 800 miles. These miles were logged on 3 pairs of Wave Riders (4th for the marathon). These babies now run $115 but I always get a deal.
I had a half dozen or so training buddies that helped me log the miles and For whom I am forever thankful.
My goal was to raise money for Girls on the Run. The goal started at $1000, then $1500, then why not $2000. If you can do it, why not? Nearly 40 donations came in and helped me exceed my goal with a race day total of $2620.00. A big thank you to my parents for the last push and putting me at 100x my distance!
All of these numbers bring me to one that is sort of sad. Tomorrow it is supposed to be 87 degrees. Having lived through Chicago in 2007 I know this means my dream of a sub 3:10 is out of reach.
It breaks my heart a little really. All this time and effort--and I don't get to put the hard work on the line tomorrow. I'm hoping to run a smart and safe race. Some friends aren't running because they know it's not a PR day. But you know what? I'm here. I worked hard and I want to cross that finish line!
It's time for bed. Thank you for all the well wishes. I can't believe I'm running tomorrow!
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Well said & in town...
"Running has given me the courage to start, the determination to keep trying, and the childlike spirit to have fun along the way. Run often and run long, but never outrun your joy of running."
--Julie Isphording, ran 1st women's Olympic Marathon in 1984
I'm pretty sure this sums up my relationship with running. God I would have loved to been at the 1984 Olympics, the women are just remarkable.
Made it to Beantown. Race day weather: 87 degrees.
--Julie Isphording, ran 1st women's Olympic Marathon in 1984
I'm pretty sure this sums up my relationship with running. God I would have loved to been at the 1984 Olympics, the women are just remarkable.
Made it to Beantown. Race day weather: 87 degrees.
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