So. A recap. From beginning to end.
Got up at 5:15 that morning. Along with Hubby and Eldest, who were preparing to head to Eldest's football game in middle-of-nowhere Massachusetts. I know. Making little 5 year olds play football at the ass-crack of dawn! (his games start at 8am on Sundays.)
Anyway, my parents had come into town for the weekend. So we left them there with the remaining 2 sleeping boyz. I picked up my Sis at 6, and we headed into Boston. The weather at home was an uncomfortably muggy and warm 70+ degrees, even at that early hour. Not good running weather.
Arrived in the city around 7 (the race started at 8). The weather in Boston was COLD. 59 degrees, a little windy, and no humidity. Perfect running weather.
Upon our arrival at the registration area, we immediately headed for the porta-potties. (She had had coffee and water, I had a diet Red Bull and water.) Good call on our part. No lines (yet).
Then we picked up our numbers, our timing chips, our free long-sleeve shirts (I'm starting to get a collection! Hubby had the gall to be pissed that I didn't get an XL for him. Hello? Who did all the work?), and dropped our gear off at the
And headed back to the porta-potties. Had to wait in a longer line this time, but it wasn't too bad. By the time we finished peeing, the lines for those suckers were miles long! Everyone eliminating at the same time. Sweet.
Headed to the Start. I wanted to stand in the 10-minute mile section, Sis wanted to be in the 9-minute section. So we compromised and stood in between. On the side, because I get a bit claustrophobic, and besides, I DON'T LIKE PEOPLE TOUCHING ME. It's annoying.
Waited there about 15 minutes, as more and more runners trickled in. It got crowded, and a bit warm. And yes, people were touching me, and I was getting irked. And I had to pee. Again. But there was no time.
And then the gun sounded and we were OFF! I think it took us about 2-3 minutes to get up to the actual starting line.
Sis and I both didn't even turn on our iPods for the first 2 miles. It was exciting to be in such a huge crowd of runners and to listen to everyone's excitement.
Our pace was pretty much on 9-minute mile time. The course was mostly flat, a few ups and downs, but nothing steep. At Mile 5, I think we were around 48 minutes.
Before we got to the Franklin Park Zoo, we could see the race leaders heading back (the course was a loop). It was exciting to see those Kenyans rush by in a blur! All the runners cheered as they passed us. (Yeah, the top runners finished the race in less than half the time it took Sis and I. Amazing.)
Miles 6, 7, and 8 were through the zoo. At Mile 7, there was Gatorade and some sort of "energy gel" thing to eat. I got caramel flavor, which wasn't too bad. Sis got strawberry banana. It was nauseating! (Of course, she pulled the old, "Yuck. Mine is totally gross. Here, taste..." and I did.)
At this point, we were both still doing great. Not too out of breath, keeping a good pace, feeling decent.
At Mile 10, I was happy because our time was 1:37. Quicker than my finish time at the
Mile 11 was tough. It became a head-game for me. Physically, my body could finish the race. Mentally, I was psyching myself out. My breathing got all out of whack. I knew the end was near, but not near enough yet. Sis helped me through this. She may have told me to shut up or something.
We saw Sis's Hubby around this time. He jogged alongside us, and snapped a few prize-winning action photos. (And shockingly, they all came out blurry. Go figure.)
And then, it was over! Just like that. I saw my Dad on the sideline right before the finish. He didn't see us until I called to him as I was heading down the stretch. So no action photos from him either.
Our official finish time: 2:03:06.
I'm experiencing a
bit lot of post-race letdown (as is Sis).
We chatted yesterday. Neither of us ran all week.
I fact, I binged all week. For example, one night I ate two (2!) BLT sandwiches and two (2!) cupcakes. I've eaten ice cream for dessert practically every night. I haven't been drinking enough water.
I feel like I have no incentive. Nothing to strive for. Nothing to get me motivated. The big race is over. I did it. It's done.
And I'm depressed, frustrated and mad at myself that I can't find it in me to just exercise. To just do it. Because it makes me feel good and look better. Because it makes me happy. Because it's what I need in my life.
So what now?
This morning, I ran. Down a gradual hill, and then up a steep hill to home. For 40 minutes. It felt great.
And tomorrow, Sis and I are going for a long run together. And we're going to put our heads together to try to come up with some sort of motivation to keep us active through the long New England winter. Because we realize that we both have the potential to allow ourselves to become lazy and complacent. And neither of us want that.
In an act of desperation, I even suggested to Sis that we run this. Yeah, you read that right. A half marathon. In February. On the water. At the Cape. Think it'll be cold? Think we're crazy enough to attempt it?
We just might be.