rejected

Though it wasn't surprising, I was still really sad to get my reject email from Boston yesterday. It happened just as predicted, that in fact one needed -1:38 under their qualifying time to actually get in. There had been a glimmer of hope based on the notification we had received last Friday, but the hope only made it worse when the news broke on Facebook. My "every cloud" feeling from last week is clearer today than yesterday, but it was still really sad to get the final no.

I've had about enough of the people who are "helping" by telling me (and the other 2,975 that didn't make the cut) that we should just "train harder" and "get faster." As if I haven't been trying. I was just kidding all this time. Run faster? Oh shit! I didn't know that's all I had to do! I wish I had known that at TCM 2011. And Grandma's 2012. Oh, yeah, and that might have helped, if I had only run faster at Sioux Falls. Glad someone told me. I'll try that next time.

In a humbling realization, I determined that part of my frustration over this whole thing is that I'm usually pretty good at setting high but reasonable goals and then achieving them through lots of hard work. This was an instance in which hard work did not pay off. And that perhaps my goal is not reasonable. I have to decide what this means for my running.

I think I'm going to have to avoid Facebook, twitter, and blogs from mid-February until April 25ish, since I don't think I can handle watching my newsfeeds fill up with training updates, expo pics, and race posts for Boston (again) this year.

I think the hardest thing is that I don't know what to do next. Without Boston as a goal, I don't know what to do. Feeling very unmotivated and having a hard time lacing up my running shoes.

Better today but still sad. And lost.


[This is all stated with the understanding that in the scheme of things, in light of many tragedies happening in the world, this is small potatoes. There are far worse things going on, and this is an indulgent hobby and hardly counts as a problem. I get it. I'm still sad.]

every cloud

I haven't quite identified the silver lining of the whole Boston thing. I think that it might take some time, and perhaps it will not happen until I get the official word I'm not running it. But regardless, I am feeling 100% better about it. I am not sure how that happened, but after my pathetic pity-party on Tuesday, I woke up on Wed with a new perspective on the whole thing. Would I still love to run Boston? Absolutely! But it just isn't worth feeling bad about any more. I just can't think about it every day, the way I have for the last 3 years as I've worked to get faster. I just don't want to have this be how I determine my success as a runner any more.

Feeling zen about whatever happens next week. Maybe the BAA will have a shocking announcement. But if not, I'll settle on a new goal and everything will be great.

feeling discouraged

Though I haven't received my official "You're a loser" email from the BAA indicating that my qualifying time won't allow me in this year's race, the news today secures my status as "good enough to qualify, but not good enough to get in." 7500 submissions for 5000 spots. So, roughly 1/3 more apps than spaces left. I'm guessing that people need -1:40 to get in, which is 42 seconds faster than I was. So last year I missed by :45, this year :42. Improvement (she thinks, incredibly bitterly).

Though I could whine about the situation (ok, I will for a minute), about the heat and humidity, the fact that by every account the course was at least .22 long (which would be close to :90 seconds for my pace and would have given me enough of a cushion to make it in), that the year I finally qualify happens to fall on the year that everyone else that has ever even put on a pair of running shoes wants to be there, it doesn't change the fact that I just wasn't fast enough. I didn't make it happen.

To be honest, the arbitrariness of this qualifying but still not being fast enough thing has made Boston lose a bit of its luster. Maybe I'm just not going to be a good enough runner to wear the blue and yellow. And maybe that doesn't really mean as much as it used to. This isn't to say that if by some miracle the BAA changes something and I end up with a spot I wouldn't be excited to be going. I just don't think it has to be what defines me as a runner any more, the way that it has for years as a non-qualifier.

A few people have suggested I raise money to run as a charity runner. But I don't want to run it just to run it. I earned a spot in the race, and I'm not going there to wear a charity bib and start in the charity corral and have qualifiers look disdainfully at me because my charity spot meant that their spouse or teammate or sister didn't get in the race even though they qualified. At one point I thought about going out to cheer - to celebrate being a runner. And though many of my friends will be there, I don't think my psyche can handle that. I wish I could be a bigger person. I'm just not.

I'm definitely in the post-race blues, made worse by this whole craptastic situation. I need a new goal, I think, and one that doesn't revolve around a BQ. I might still run marathons, and maybe I'll get faster, but maybe running Boston doesn't mean as much if qualifiers still don't get in. Maybe next year if I happen to decide to run another marathon and get a faster time I'll decide differently about the whole thing. Who knows. But in the mean time, I need something else to focus on. I'm driving myself crazy without a goal.

Sioux Falls race report

I'm having a bit of a hard time knowing what to think of this race. It seems silly to debate - I PRed and got a Boston qualifying time. But as registration is way ahead of normal for next April's race this week, it's looking really really unlikely I'll get to be in Boston on Patriot's Day. A BQ doesn't mean a whole lot unless you get to run. And the blue and yellow jacket.

The day before the race, every "good luck" text I got was something about how awful the weather was looking and whether I was going to just run it easy and to be careful and run safe and be smart. I appreciate the reminders to be careful, but mostly these texts did nothing but mess with my confidence. It was good to meet coach and his wife along with the only other team member still running the race (several decided not to run due to injuries or the weather). Steph (coach's wife) in particular helped me set that all aside and refocus. She told me about watching a story about Diana Nyad, who kept thinking throughout her swim and things would go wrong, "Find a way." I decided this would be a perfect mantra for me for this race.

And the weather lived up to what a September marathon in South Dakota promises - hot, humid, and windy. Of course I hoped for an anomaly, but knew when I signed up it would likely be less than favorable conditions. It was 70 degrees and 93% humidity at the start of the race, which is about 30 degrees warmer than I'd choose for marathon race start. The course included rolling hills for the first 8 miles and no shade until mile 16. The wind was strong - up to 15 mi/hr - but the heat and humidity is what did me in.

By mile 7, I knew my A goal (3:29) was not realistic and even thought by B goal (3:35) wasn't going to be attained. By 14, I knew for sure that my new A goal was anything under 3:40. The guy I'm dating jumped into the race with me at about 14.5 and though I didn't articulate my new plan, he could tell I was struggling. He's a 2:50 marathoner, so my pace was a walk in the park for him. He helped me navigate the water stops and generally be positive. I kinda thought I'd get annoyed at some point having someone run with me, but it was really helpful the whole time.

I had to gut out those last 7 miles. At one point, around mile 21, I moaned out loud. I kept recalculating what I needed to make sure I didn't miss 3:40 by seconds. Again. I knew it was going to be close, and had to fight hard. Find a way. Prove you want it. Dig deep. These were the phrases cycling through my head.

And I did (mostly) find a way. I did (kind of) prove it. And I really did dig deep. I missed my goal by 10 minutes, but many other runners on Sunday missed theirs by much more. Coach missed his goal by over 15 minutes, and my teammate missed hers by 45.

So a bittersweet result. I guess there's still a chance for a miracle that there are spots left after this week. I'm not holding my breath. I guess I need to figure out a new goal and find something to do next spring.