Dead Sprint

Ah yes, the Dreaded Druid Hills 10K.  Not a PR course, for sure.  I have put it off long enough and the horrible memories of this race have faded away.  I think it has easily been five years since I ran this event.  Like childbirth, you forget how miserable and painful it is so you will do it again; its nature's way.
I was lucky enough to get my race fee comped by the powers that be at Falls Running Store.  (Thank you, you know who you are.) So I had no excuses not to show up and run this event. The weather somewhat cooperated and it wasn't brutally hot and humid like so many years past.  Because the only thing worse than torturous hills is the addition of extreme heat!
For those that are not aware of this race, and most who read this are in the know; the DDH has seven unforgettable hills.  These hills are not thrown at you until after mile three.  It's always fun to hear the first timers around you comment on the pre-hills of the race.  They complain how horrible the hills in the first few miles are, but these baby speed bumps are not what the race is truly famous for being.
It's not that the hills are steep or long or winding to a never-ending peak, it's that they are all three of these combined.  Jim Adams, owner of Falls Running Store and race director, can always be found on the course right around the beginning of the nasty hills.  He makes himself available to hear your sarcastic thank you's, your vulgar cursing, and your wheezing gasps.  He knows you'll be back next year.
I set out to run this race at a pace that was comfortable and livable.  My running has not been at the forefront of my life these days so I wasn't shooting for any amazing time.  Plus this is the DDH we're talking about.  Theres not a lot of point to try and race your ass off on this excruciating course. So I ran at a strong, steady pace sans Garmin and only my regular watch.  I was hitting decent splits for a runner on the decline.  I climbed the hills and carried my own water.  I was out to survive and run, that's it.
It was the last mile the course of my race changed.  My friend Mitch jumped in all smiles.  I informed him that if he wants to run with me he has to be quiet, I needed to concentrate.  There were two women in front of me that I had played leap frog with throughout the race. "You are going to pass those two," Mitch says. Annoyed that he was telling me to do something I already planned to do, I said, "You don't get to tell me how to race."
I caught up with the first woman.  She was pleasant and encouraging, "Nice pace you're running!".  "Thanks," I say, "you too." I pull away from her and set my sights on the next one.
The woman in the green shirt and spandex shorts.  With only the last turn around Druid Lake I approach her.  She sees me beside her and picks up the pace.  I do the same.  She insists on being in the lead, but I refuse to let her have it so I lock on to her pace.  She kicks in another boost and so do I.  The finish line is less than 100m away.  She takes off and so do I.  We are in a dead sprint to the finish.  My heels are kicking my own ass.  I haven't pushed it this hard or wanted to beat someone so bad in a very long time! But I had to have her, I had to take her down!
I would say technically we crossed at the same time, but I got my tag torn first and that means my name will be before hers.  Hey, that stuff matters especially when I managed to pull my A-game out of nowhere and beat this woman who was most likely in my age group.
After we crossed the finish line, I turned to my competition and high-fived her and quickly walked off to bring myself down.  I had to walk for a bit to talk myself out of hurling.  I haven't pushed it that hard since my track racing days.
It's fun to race like that when you least expect it.  I was just running that event, but GreenShirt SpandexShorts made my race much more meaningful and memorable.  Thanks GS-SS! I think her name was Stefanie Gisler, and yes, she is the same age!

Lost stuff

Has anyone seen it?  I can't remember where I put it.  I've looked everywhere for it but am at a total loss.  I've lost my stuff.  What does that mean?  Well, as a runner you have 'stuff'.  This 'stuff' is what makes you move further and faster.  This 'stuff' motivates you to keep pushing the envelope and shoves you out the door.

I started writing for the Examiner over a year ago mostly just to keep myself motivated and inspire myself to keep up my running. It worked for a very long time and my running greatly improved.  I went from believing I was locked into a 10-minute mile for the rest of my life to nearly breaking a 7-minute mile in a 5K.

Not only did my running improve with my writing, but my knowledge about the sport, races, and the people involved, whether they be celebrity runners or inside contacts to companies and races.  Was I a local force to be reckoned within the running community?  No, but I did create a name for myself and I am proud to say I did it all by myself.

Now, make a list of all the stresses one can deal with in their life.  Take that list, cross of a death and a birth, and you come up with all that I am dealing with.  My running has always been a source of solace to help me cope with the stresses of life.  Just slap on a pair of shoes, head out the door, and solve the problems that stare you in the face.

These days, like looking for a lost contact lens, I find myself walking in circles feeling the ground in search of my 'stuff'.  Time is a big issue.  I get it now.  Working full time and training is an incredibly difficult feat to pull off. I still firmly believe that if you want to do something you will find a way to make it happen.  But, there are only so many hours in the day.  You can sacrifice sleep, but you running is going to pay for it.

How do you get your stuff back?  What else can be put on the back burner to get your miles in?  Nine hours of work + 7 hours of sleep + eating + bathing + time with family and or friends leaves you with little more than 30 minutes, or so it seems.  How do you find the time to train?  What sacrifices do YOU make to get your workouts in?  Who pays, what pays, so that you can get your sanity fix?  The price is steep; are you worth it?

I kinda BQ'd

Wow!  Has it really been since December that I last wrote about my running adventures?  Clearly my mind
has been in another place.  I've been running, I swear!  Writing?  Not so much.  Let's see if I can remember how to do both...

After running the Springfield Marathon, I was ampted to try and run a marathon that actually had crowd support and a real expo (not a rack of clothes and a free pencil).  I was determined to make sure all my ducks were in a row for this marathon.  I trained well with only a one-week sideline of major illness.  I made sure I logged in a 20 and 22 miler. I ran longer runs at race pace. I cut out alcohol for an entire week, and the most crucial piece was to employ my dear friend and coach Christian to pace me through my 3rd marathon.

After his return from a stress fracture, Coach Christian (CC) ran my last few long runs with me in preparation for my much-anticipated marathon.  He got me though an easy 22, he pushed me through the difficult last 5 miles of a 17-miler, and pace-ran a 13 mile taper run.  He had higher ambitions for me than I did; he thought I could run a marathon at an 8:10 pace.  I only needed an 8:23 to qualify for Boston; I had my doubts.

CC hooked us up with a sweet condo in Williamsburg and drove the whole way.  Already my coach had gone above and beyond the call of duty.  He even bought dinner!  We were all shocked to learn that instead of my own bedroom in the condo, I got an entire condo to myself!  That evening I treated myself to a cannoli in a gigantic whirlpool bathtub--just what an aspiring BQ-er needs!

The next day we awoke at 4 am to prep for the hour drive to Virginia Beach.  Vicky, CC's wife, was running the half marathon and needed to be there by 6:15.  We arrived with little traffic issues, dropped Vicky off at the bag check, and part ways.  CC and I headed over closer to our own start and miraculously (or illegally) snagged a parking spot in the Ramada parking lot.  Turns out this spot was only a block away from our start.  After we park, we realized the start balloon had been inflated at one end of the street had been barricaded by the VA police at the other end in lieu of the race.  If we had been minutes later, this parking spot would have been unreachable.

After three trips into the Hampton Inn for bathroom usage with doors clearly marked "NOT for public use, Hampton patrons ONLY", we headed to the car to lube up, strip down, and send last minute text messages to our friends and supporters.

CC and I headed out to warm up.  CC likes to run sans shirt, so he received many sideways glances in the wind-chilled sub 40 degree temps.  "Are you going to be embarrassed to run with me," he asks.  "No, it'll be more entertaining, Naked Man." He may be naked man to others but he's just Christian to me.

After a delayed start and a last minute decision to divide us into waves, we start the race around 8:17. We started the race with Kevin Hewitt pacing a friend with similar goals.  Kevin immediately made a bee-line for the porta pots after the race started.  Pumped with race adrenaline, CC followed Kevin and banged on the door of the porta pot.  "HEY MAN, LET ME IN!!!" he shouts just after Kevin runs in...too funny!  Hey, that's how we roll.

By mile 7-8 I am cruising at an 8:00 pace feeling like its a 10:30.  Things are going well.  We run through a military camp and I am in good spirits high-fiving all the troops.  Music is playing and I am just along for the ride. CC is wearing all the stats: pace, distance, elapsed time, all I have to do is follow him, he'll do the rest.

My friend and neighbor, Amber, joins us around this point.  CC has now adopted another runner to pull through.  To distract us, CC tells us stories of his crazy past.  It's hard to believe such a wholesome fella could have done such wild and dangerous things; it just goes to show that my theory is correct: Runners are insane, we run to keep ourselves tame.

We see Vicky at mile 13, then we see Michael Wardian sprint by shortly after headed into the home stretch, now we head into a lonely stretch of the run.  Still, I am in good company w/ CC and Amber.  We meet a pack of Erin's.  Our bibs have our names on them, so I get to hear over and over, 'Go Erin!'. Things are going well as we push all the way through to mile 20.

Even at 22 I am still feeling optimistic though tired.  It isn't long after that, though I feel extreme fatigue set in.  Amber is still running strong, she even downs a beer. Slowly, but surely Amber increases the gap.  Christian senses me pulling back.  Using his overly encouraging tone, he tries to push me back into our original pace.  All I want to do is punch him in the face, if only I had the energy..and could catch him!  He skips, and runs backwards trying to bring me back to the land of the marathoning aware.  All I want is this race to be over.

'Where is that F-ing boardwalk!', I think to myself.  Once I hit it, I plan to take off with everything I have. "I'm going to throw these F-ing shoes in the trash!", I pant out. "Lets get this race over and you can throw those shoes away," says CC.  We round a corner, CC pumps up the crowd so that hopefully they will inspire me to push on through.

Finally, we hit the boardwalk.  What?!  Did they want us to run the entire length of it?  I don't even see the finish line, I find an ounce of energy to pick it up somewhat, but not kill it just yet.  How much further do I have? "We have 4/10ths of a mile", CC informs me."C'mon!"

I finally see the finish line balloon off in the distance.  "Get behind me!" I summon up to words to shout to CC.  He catches on and falls into line.  "Move that beautiful behind!  C'mon Erin, bring it in!  Let's see what you got! Move it!" He shouts as I pick up speed.

The girl Kevin was pacing was pushing for a 3:29.  We leap-frogged the duo throughout the entire race.  Even though I only anticipated getting under a 3:40 we were ahead of Kevin and 'his girl'. "Kevin's girl is going to catch us!", CC shouts from behind.  That's all the motivation I needed.  As soon as I heard that I gave it all I had left.  I sprinted past cheering spectators, I heard Vicky's excited voice as I zipped by.  I was booking it in amazed I had anything left.  I wanted it to be over!

3:35:27-Yes, I qualified for Boston...but will I make it in?  Due to last years mad rush for race registration resulting in an record-breaking 8 hour fill, the BAA (Boston Athletic Association) had to revamp its rules to accommodate the coming years of race registry. The announcement of this predicament was made after I finished the Springfield marathon in November, AFTER I registered for the Shamrock Marathon in December but BEFORE I ran Shamrock.

I threw my hands up upon announcement of the new rolling entry rules. Even if you meet your qualifying time for your gender/age group there is still a staggered registration based on your qualifying time.  If you run 20 minutes under your qualifying time, you will be allowed first entry.  It then tapers back to 10 minutes two days later, then five and finally the actual required time to qualify-in my case 3:40.  Now...because I am 27 seconds over 3:35 I will be lumped in w/ the 3:40s so therefore I have just as much chance of getting in as anybody else even though I beat the standard by almost five minutes.  Let me repeat that...ALMOST!

CC was tracking our progress via Garmin.  We ran 26.4 miles (courses always measure long on a Garmin; USATF always cut the tangents when measuring a course to ensure the impossibility of running LESS than 26.2).  We maintained an 8:09 pace on average.  I am beyond thrilled that this was even possible for me.  I had days when breaking a 10 minute mile was a huge feat and never did I think this day would come.

If I get into Boston for 2012 or not, I am so happy with my race performance.  I ran that entire thing w/o stopping once.  CC was an amazing pacer; he was right on the money the entire time.  He knew what I was capable of even if I had my doubts.  He pulled me through and helped me fulfill and even push beyond my goal.  He is an incredible friend and I highly recommend him to anyone in need of an inspiring coach and mentor.

Thanks CC!!!

Find your happy place

The past few days have been indescribable.  The good, the bad, and the ugly have all reared their heads and I am looking them straight in the eye unblinking.  Today was a beautiful day weather-wise, but it went completely through me.

I had already run once this morning with my beloved BOMF team, but my energy levels were still high.  After running around doing errands I was already in the neighborhood so I decided to run the water promenade along the harbor.

I parked on Key Highway and started my run at Rash Field.  I had a lot of thinking to do and running is my go-to source to process it.  When I started out I was already feeling the impact of my day.

I was bopping along listening to my tunes feeling good.  I made it a point to look at every person I passed.  Some were walking with their heads down, others were looking straight a head, and a few looked right at me.  The ones that looked at me, I looked right back and smiled and said 'hello'.  Maybe they thought I was insane, still I connected with them.

Happiness continued to creep in and I felt weightless as I ran along.  A man, on his own run, was coming towards me.  I did something I rarely do especially to a total stranger; I extended my hand for a passing high-five.  He half-heartedly fived me back, but we connected and I zapped him with my energy.

Next as I wound along what paths I could that kept me close to the water, I ran past a group of construction workers.  We all know construction workers are notorious for hooting and hollering at women running or walking by.  I used to just duck my head and do my best to ignore them.  Today was different.  Today I looked right back at the workers and smiled.  One hispanic man looked at me and I smiled right back at him with my whole body.  He said, "Boy you have a pretty smile!"  I felt that smile and loved it!

I intended to go out for 17 minutes and turn around.  I figured a 34 minute run would give me about 4 miles.  When I reached the approximate 17 minute mark I was just about to pass a dock that extended off a point.  I ran out to the end of the wooden dock and stopped.  Coincidentally my iPod died just then.  Where I stood, it was as if I was surrounded by water and city.  I stood at the edge of it all. I took in my surroundings and the gentle, chilly breeze that blew right through me.  That's when I heard it: Pay attention.

The voice was in my head.  I knew I had to listen to it.

I set out the way I came.  Not entirely sure where I was, I knew as long as I stayed close to the water I was fine.  By the water, though, made me better than fine, it made me happy.  En route on my return, I hear another voice, 'This day is important' and I knew that it was.

I chewed on these two phrases for a while and as I approached the end of my run; that's when I had my last encounter.

Just in front of the Science Center I was coming upon a young couple walking with their toddler daughter. The little girl probably just started to walk a few months ago and both parents were walking slowly with her holding her hands.  Rationally I know they were talking to the little girl, but the words seemed to be said in my direction.  This may not even be what they really said, but this is what I heard, "She's trying".  They said it a few times and the words were picked up by the wind and carried my way.

I am paying attention to this important day and I am trying to listen and do what needs to be done.  Another run towards clarity logged in.

Speed Queen and Rocket Girl

There are some people you just know are from the same egg. Brenda Dailey (aka Speed Queen) is one of those.  After having the time of our lives bonding during the Ragnar Relay, Speed Queen and Rocket Girl (me) have postponed a run long enough.... 

SQ was immediately assigned the role of my big sister-a role she happily accepts. A superball of energy herself, SQ is a non-stop postive source and I was having a blast running some incredibly technical trails at Gunpowder with her today.

We set out up a very steep hill and my first thought was, she's trying to kill me! True to a little sister's mentality, I thought, "I can do anything you can do" so RG pushed through and hung with SQ.  We danced and skipped up and down hills strewn with loose rocks and roots galore.  Like ninjas, we lightly bound across water, over holes, and over fallen trees.

One particular hill was incredibly treacherous. We flew down a steep hillside that was more like randomly placed steps made of roots.  SQ bound down in an effortless form, I followed suit and jumped and hopped down the hill at full speed.  When flying like that down a hillside with hairpin turns and ample roots, its impossible to slow up.  It is dire you must remain fleet-footed, and sharp-witted.

When we reached the bottom of what could have easily ended in death or disfigurement, SQ stops, raises her arms in victory and says, "Yay!  A girl who can trail-run with me!" and gives me a big hug.  Yup, she's my kind of girl-never misses a moment to revel in lifes glories. We're alive!!!

I love this girl and look forward to many more runs and other bonding experiences.  She is on fire and I intend to bask in its glow.  Together Speed Queen and Rocket Girl will conquer the world and chick the dudes who just can't hang--Book 'em!

A religious experience: Loch Raven trail-running

In spite of the howling winds blowing the creaking, looming and leafless trees I was dazzled by the beauty that surrounded me.  The trails of the Loch Raven Reservoir are mostly strewn with leaves and this always makes me cautious of losing my way.  However, would getting lost in a place like this really be that bad?

The solitude involved with trail running is something that takes a period of adjustment.  Being alone in your head can be somewhat overwhelming at times.  As you wind along the paths covered in leaves, roots, rocks and soft earth, your body relaxes and thoughts sort themselves out as they neatly line up to be addressed one by one.

When I run the trails I wear my watch, but I do not time it.  I only need a rough estimate on the time I leave and when I return.  Though I am curious to my exact distance and pace, it's almost better to run on trails naked, so to speak.

It is mandatory you stay in tune your body so that you are aware of your footing, your balance, and your surroundings.  I do not run with headphones in the woods, all my senses are in use and I don't want anything to dampen my experience. Unless I know exactly where I am going and for how long, I usually take water with me.  Part of the enjoyment in trail running comes from the unknown and if I'm going to get lost I need to be prepared.

Every time I head out, I hope to find a new path.  Today I discovered not only a new path but an entire loop.  When I come to forks and crossroads I give myself only a split second to decide: right, left, or straight.  I don't pick the hardest or the easiest path, nor do I pick the one that looks the most-traveled.  I just pick the one that seems to fit.

view from the Dog Grave as I sit on the bench

Three points of interest today: The first I already anticipated.  It's referred to as the Dog Grave.  Only ten minutes of running from my house and you can reach it.  The Dog Grave is an area that is well-worn.  In a corner, under a tree, lies a pile of dog toys and a stepping stone with a small memorial to a man's best friend.  Directly 180 degrees from the grave is a make-shift bench between two trees.  The bench overlooks a great watery expanse.  For me, it is a must to sit here for a minute and take in the scenery.

Humbling expanse of trees

The second point of interest is a little harder to describe.  As I go up and down hills I am reveling at the size of the trees and the extent to which they expand. I stop for a moment and look up and out at the trees as they go on as far as the eye can see.  I suddenly feel dwarfed by my surroundings. I come to my first four-way trail intersection.  Merely listening to my internal compass, I turn left and head up the winding path through the ominous forest.

The third point happened by accident.  I didn't know when I turned left at the intersection that I would find my way back into familiar territory.   Nothing in the scenery clearly presented this evidence, but I felt like I've been here before. As I run, I take in my surroundings and, based only on intuition, I can immediately sense that if I keep going I will end up where I started.  That's when I pass one of my favorite 'off the beaten path' paths.  It took me a minute to realize what it was since I was coming from the other direction.

On top of the world

A smile spreads across my face and I turn down my path.  The wind picks up as I go along.  Wind is a common occurence along this path because you are essentially running along the top of a hill unshielded in any direction.  I come to my rocky end.  I stand there for a minute and feel as if I am standing on top of the world.  I have stood on my peak many times before and held a plethora of private thoughts. Though the wind numbs my face, I let out a sigh of gratitude for what I hold today. Thank God for this; I turn back.

Bass Pro Marathon: The lesser-known marathon

Danielle, three kids, and I pile into her car the day before my race to drive the course. Going through neighborhoods and by businesses, I am transported to a time in my life when running a marathon was an unachievable goal. I've come home to run. Now, I am fully-loaded for this upcoming adventure.

As we drive, William and Caden shout out mile markers. Huge numbers were hung on scaffolding. I heard they were big, but I had no idea how much. Getting tired of being in the car, we make it to mile 23 before we decide to forget the last few and head to the expo to pick up my race stuff.

We quickly learn that 'expo' and 'packet pick-up' are one in the same. With just a few shirts hung on racks, the two boys are disappointed in the free schwag they receive at the much anticipated expo-a pencil and a sticker.

Race day

Getting things organized and still playing mother in the AM, I am suddenly feeling the anxiety of getting not just me, but several other people ready and out the door on time. With strong urging on my part, I push everyone out the door at 6:15; we arrive at 6:30--no traffic, no problem parking. Race starts at 7:00. Where is everybody?

I have Danielle drop me off right in front of the porta-potties. No lines here either and tons of options. Where is everybody? It's cold, so I head inside the main entrance to Bass Pro.

Found them! Packed like sardines, runners from the 5K through marathon are huddled in the main entry way of the world's largest outdoor retailer. I stand around chatting with my friends and prepping Danielle's daughter Shelby for her first 5K. I make sure she doesn't wear the race shirt, has her number pinned on the front, and give her some pointers on how to place yourself at the start.

Minutes before 7am I step outside for one more trip to the porta-potty and put myself towards to front of the start. Frank Shorter is there and gives a brief pep talk. The national anthem is sung by a barbershop quartet and, with a late start, the air horn goes off.

It's cold and I start out pretty fast. I kept checking in with myself to be sure my pace was comfortable and not beyond something I could hold. After the first few miles I am holding an 8:15 pace. I am seeded as the fourth female. Knowing there is plenty of race left, I try not to get too wrapped up in placement.

At mile 6 I see my mother, brother, and sister in law sitting on a hillside opposite the street I'm on. I spot them before they see me. I enthusiastically wave my arms and shout, "Good Morning!" in my most sing-song voice.

Again at mile 10, I see the same crew and wave excitedly at them. Then, as I cross Glenstone, my mother is standing next to the scaffolding of mile 13 with camera in hand. I see no sign of the gatorade I gave her. "Gatorade?" I ask. "Up ahead" she replies. I scan ahead and see nothing. I hear, "Erin!" and I stop and turn back.

"What?!"

"Nothing, just keep going!"

What the heck does she think I'm doing?! I see my younger brother Conor and Hannah and try again, "Gatorade?" Hannah proceeds to hand me the bottle. "Open it" I bark not trying to be rude, just efficient. "Pour" I demand. Hannah dumps it in my water bottle.

I see Danielle at 15. She hands me my 'kibble' as she called it (chopped up Clif bar) and I ask her to bring my inhaler to mile 21, which is where she will be next. I am feeling chest tightness, but try to talk myself through it.

The race is starting to wear on me now. I force myself to eat my kibble and am fighting boredom. It's such a small race and the runners have all spread out, so there is hardly anyone around. People are kind and come out of their houses to clap a few times and halfheartedly say, "Nice job". I quickly figure out though, that I must draw from my own love to uplift my spirits.

My mom and crew are out at mile 16. I'm so glad she could make it to so many miles to see me. To lift my own spirits, I say to them with a slight hint of sarcasm, "You guys should try this, its fun!"

You would think I was forced to do this against my will. The mental aspect of the race was in full swing now and I am severely under-trained in this category. I have nothing to draw from. I try to picture my friend Mitch's silly(editor's addendum: very good-looking and youthful) face distracting me from the torture. I think about Christian smiling and saying, "You look good, honey. Go get 'em." For the first time in my marathon I say out loud, "Where are you Dave?"

Mile 18 sucks. I'm in a part of town which I never liked before and have no memories to draw from. I see my older brother Brandon with my sweet little nephew Elijah standing on the corner. "Gatorade", I say, "Open it...pour". Mmmm, nothing like salty gatorade to make you want to sit down and give up. Yuck!

At this point things start to hurt. My knees cringe, my hips ache, and the unmentionable area is in agony. I try to talk to myself, but my brain has already called it a day. If I can just break up the rest of the race based on who's where and what's left maybe the race won't seem so daunting.

Pushing towards mile 21, I see Danielle. She hands me my inhaler and I take two quick puffs off it. "Gloves" I say. With a panicked expression Danielle frantically searches my stuff looking for gloves. "No, back there" I point behind me where I just threw my gloves for her to retrieve.

As glad as I am my dearest friends and family came out to provide support, I am struggling to be uplifted by their presence. They are breaking up the race to give me something to look forward to, but the boost I receive from them is too short-lived to pull much motivation from. "Dave, where are you?"

I rehearsed moments like this in the race. Before this day, I was planning to think about the yummy chocolate milk at the finish line, the one-of-a-kind gifted shirt waiting for me in my post-race bag, my sweet William's face who will be glad to be back in his mommy's care. Why couldn't I summon them up?

After two more miles, Stacey and Chris are the last of my support. I hand Stacey my empty water bottle and say hello to Chris. Just after passing them, Chris's song, 'Spark' comes on my ipod. The man's got talent and I feel happy for a moment.

"Ow", I keep saying. Everything hurts, my feet, my calves. I have to launch my body up a curb at mile 24. Onto the last bit of Greenway trails, I head into a tunnel underpass. Though brief, the tunnel messes with my head and I feel dizzy. Thinking no one is behind me, I burp and it echos in the tunnel. Sure enough, there IS someone behind me. Oh well, runner's aren't known for their lady-like disposition.

My chest tightens, I feel the tears welling up. I fight the urge to cry, I need to stay calm and breathe normally; hyperventilating is not a good idea at this point. "Dave, get me through this." I whimper aloud.

The last two miles were like eternity. Winding through a neighborhood I was unfamiliar with I had no idea what to expect. Since we skipped this portion of the course drive, I didn't know how many turns there were. Each turn put more stress on my legs. If I could just go straight it was bearable, but turning required more weight on one leg and, of course, the pitch in the road changed as well.

I see a little boy from behind on the sidewalk. He looks just like William and I have to fend off tears once more. My heart aches to see him, I simply must get to the finish and find him!

With less than a mile and half to go, I see two marathoners walking. "C'mon guys, lets go!" I say ordering them to move. They both instantly pick it up and we three run strong. I see the 26 mile banner along a fence and I kick it in with all I have left. The two guys follow suit and stick with me.

I hear the MC counting down, "5,4,3,2,1..." NOOO! That means the 4 hour time limit just passed! I cross the finish line, vaguely notice a few friends on the other side of the fence, and hobble out of the finishing area. As I walk, I can't fight it anymore. I break down. Danielle is there first and I sob on her, then she passes me on to Stacey and I continue to sob.

Hugs all around and congratulations from everyone. I stand around for a bit and talk to everyone, but my legs start to scream at me, so I tell them I have to keep walking. I walk though the post-race festival.

"Beef stick?!" I give the insane man a look of disgust. "After a marathon? No thanks". Yeah, that's what someone who just finishes a marathon wants - beef stick!

Danielle hands me my bag of clothes and I head inside Bass Pro to find a bathroom to change in.The crowds of shoppers give me sideways looks as I fight my way past wearing my mylar cape, knee-high compression socks and salt-encrusted face. I finally find the bathroom and head into the handicap stall. I figured I'm pretty physically inept at this point and really need the extra room to change.

I slowly take off my drenched marathon wardrobe. As I put on my dry clothes I get to my 'new' shirt. I hold Coolman's Last Stand up and take a good look at it. I'm tired, I'm beaten, nothing on my body wants to work. Though unhappy with my time, I am so glad I did it and so proud of finishing. I tried to take my running friends with me during my race. Mitch pushes me to a faster pace, Christian inspires me to go the distance.

I flip the shirt around and look at the back. There's Dave standing in front of the finish line. That's when it all comes flooding in. Dave Cooley was there when I first started running races, and he has unknowingly been there for several more important events in my life so I had every intention of taking him with me to this event too. I bury my face in the shirt for a moment and wipe the tears out of my eyes.

My marathon, and really life in general, is about the journey and not the finish line. No matter how you get there or how long it takes you, it is important to savor the moments during. Finishing is a gift that allows you to reflect back on how far you've come. However, the adventure doesn't end when you finish the race. The finish line just gives you experience and knowledge for your next event.

Dave may not be able to run with me, but he was there pulling me through my race. Now that I finished the Springfield Marathon, it's time I find something closer to home and put Dave on the 26.2 mile marker for real!