Month: May 2016

“It’s time to keep enjoying the best day in running history.” – Amby Burfoot, American Marathoner, referencing the Boston Marathon

Running the Boston Marathon is my proudest accomplishment.  I’d like to say there is an academic or professional success that rivals it, but I’d be lying if I did.

My journey to Boston began on October 7, 2012 with my participation in the Twin Cities Marathon.  When I ran a 3:43:18 that day, I looked up the qualifying times for Boston.  I discovered that I missed the qualifying standard for my age group but that the race was already filled for the following spring anyway.  It was some time after that when I learned more about the qualifying process and two very important details emerged:  1) the qualification window is nearly 20 months long and 2) the standard is based on your age when you run Boston and not when you run the qualifying time.  This is all very critical as the 3:43:18 I ran in 2012 at age 39 didn’t meet the guidelines for the 2013 race.  However, I would turn 40 in September of 2013 meaning I did beat the 3:45 needed to run in 2014 and my race time was still valid for that race.  The perks of getting older! Slower standards!

To say I was thrilled was an understatement.  I began reading everything I could find online about getting into Boston.  I learned that to improve my chances of getting into the race, I should try and be at least 5 minutes under the standard.  That was really hard to believe and I was a little disappointed to know my entrance wasn’t guaranteed.  I read more.  I started following Boston Marathon on social media.  I was obsessed.  It was at that point, I signed up for Grandma’s that summer to try and improve my time.  This was my best chance at Boston and I was all in.

Then, on Monday, April 15, 2013 I was getting ready for track practice.  I turned on the TV and learned that something had occurred at the finish line of the Boston Marathon.  I’m ashamed to admit the most selfish thoughts went through my mind.  At that moment, before I or anyone for that matter knew what had happened, I remember thinking this better not interfere with next year’s race.  Then the images flashed across the screen, images that should have never been shown on television.  I was stunned and my heart broke for the victims.  I had to pull myself away from the TV to get to practice on time.

With the rest of the country, I was glued to the news coverage the following days and weeks.  Terrorists had targeted Boston and the running community on Patriots Day.  Outrage over the bombings turned into resolve to take back the marathon and everything it and the city stood for. “Boston Strong” became the mantra.  The already prestigious and hard-to-get-into race would become even more so for 2014.  Everyone wanted to run it, especially the thousands of runners who were unable to finish after the bombings occurred.  If I stood a chance, I really needed to have a good race at Grandma’s.  I really needed a better time.

Well, that didn’t happen.  In fact, I ran several minutes slower.  I would need to rely upon the 3:43:18.  I would need to hope and pray it would be good enough.

The registration process began on September 9, 2013.  The first week of registration was only for runners who had beat their qualifying times by upwards of 5 minutes or more.  If the race wasn’t filled after the first week, they’d open it to those of us closer to our standards on September 16, 2013.  I debated not even entering.  I really did consider it.  I figured I had little to no shot, so why set myself up for disappointed.  I shudder at that thought right now.  Needless to say, I submitted my entry.  I completed the online process and then drove to North Oaks to go for a run with my sister-in-law, Joelle.  That day would become significant for another reason as well.  During our run, I took the most major digger I have ever taken.  I skinned up my entire left leg.  It was awful.  But that’s for another post, or maybe not.

September 25, 2013 was one of the best days of my life.  It was the day I found out that I had gotten into Boston.  I had to sweat it out, though.  I knew I’d receive an email from the Boston Athletic Association (BAA) at some point during the day with my acceptance or denial notification. While I waited, I started reading posts on social media from people who had found out their results.  To narrow the field down to an acceptable number of runners, the BAA determined that everyone who had beat their standard by 1 minute and 38 seconds or more was in.  Everyone else was out.  My mind started racing.  I couldn’t do the math fast enough.  I just couldn’t do the math at all.  Finally, I determined I had beat the standard by 1 minute and 42 seconds.  I was in!  Or was I out?  Had I beat it by 4 seconds or missed it by 4 seconds.  I could not calm down enough to figure it out, so I called Dan who helped me with the math.  He confirmed I had indeed met the cut-off.  I still wasn’t going to believe it until I had my confirmation email.  By the time I had hung up the phone with Dan, the email was in my inbox.  I stood at the top of the steps in our house and cried tears of sheer joy.  I had just been accepted into Boston Marathon 2014.

Turning 40 two days later was such a breeze.  I didn’t care about that number.  The only number that meant anything at that point was the one that had gotten me into the marathon.  All else was unimportant!

Training got underway on December 30, 2013.  On February 25, 2014, I was diagnosed with a stress fracture in my left foot and was told to stop running.  That afternoon, I called my mom just sobbing, afraid my dream was coming to an abrupt end.  I was supposed to be wearing a boot and not running for 6 weeks.  No matter how much I told the doctor that my foot didn’t hurt in the location of the stress fracture (I had gone in for pain I was experiencing in a different part of my foot), he kept repeating that he was “sidelining” me as if he was my coach.  I pleaded with him to help me find a way to make this happen, as you couldn’t defer your Boston acceptance as he suggested I do.  He maintained that if I continued to run, it would get worse and I’d be in a cast before I knew it.

Well, you don’t tell me, or any runner for that matter, to just give up when Boston is on the line.  I did my own research and found these new anti-gravity treadmills that allowed you to run while decreasing your body weight up to 80%.  Just my luck, there was one at a rehab facility in Maple Grove.  So, after taking off a couple of weeks and just using the stationary bike, I made an appointment to try this treadmill.  I was able to run a few times a week without pain on the Alter G and was thrilled to get my training back on track.  I was behind schedule, but I came up with  plan that would have me on the starting line in Boston on April 21st.  I have a lot of people to thank for helping me through this setback, none of whom was my doctor.  I still get angry when I think about the way he handled my case.  While it was maybe what he had to tell me for liability reasons, it just seemed so cold and unsympathetic.  I often wondered if I had been a hockey player, his sport of choice, if he would have been more inclined to help me.  Lesson learned, and you have to be your own advocate and not settle if you feel you’re not getting adequate information.

Because it was winter and because I didn’t want to risk injuring myself further, I did a lot of training indoors on my own treadmill once I was back to regular running.  In fact, due to a snowstorm, I did my 20 miler on the treadmill.  It was just plain awful, I will freely admit.  However, I did what I needed to do to get to that starting line on April 21st.

We departed for Boston on Friday, April 19th.  Dan and I flew east with his parents, while my parents set out by car and would join us by race day. The energy in the city was electric, and we stayed downtown right in the midst of it.  I had worked so hard to be there, and our whole family was ready to take in every minute of the experience.  The streets were filled with runners and spectators, with Bostonians and people from across the globe.  Everyone seemed excited, hopeful, proud, strong, and determined. The good citizens of Boston had already taken back their city.  They were ready to take back their marathon, too, and we were honored to be a part of it.

The weekend was spent in low-key preparation.  Eating properly, attending the Expo, picking up my race packet, shopping, trying not to buy every “Boston Marathon” product I found.  On Saturday, we made our way down to the finish line.  I cannot put into words how emotional that experience was.  Here was the spot that I had spent over a year imagining myself at.  When I stood there at that moment, the streets line with daffodils and signs in remembrance of the bombing victims, I shed tears of sheer sadness.  My heart broke for all those affected by that cowardly act of violence.  Standing at the finish line in that moment was in no way about me.  It was only about them.  I would do my best to honor them by putting forth my best effort on Patriots Day.

Sunday was Easter.  We found the only (and I’m not kidding) Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod in Boston.  It was a beautiful church, filled with, well lots of people from the Midwest!  After the service, the pastor had all the visitors introduce themselves and announce where they were from.  It was a great morning and we were so happy to be able to celebrate Easter. We ate a quick lunch at Pret A Manger, when our first choice of restaurant was too busy, and then an early dinner at Stephanie’s on Newbury.  Then, it was time to try and get some sleep.  Monday was Patriots Day.  Monday was The Boston Marathon.

I woke up on time, feeling well, and ready to go on Monday.  After getting dressed in my race outfit, I read all the well wishes from my supporters on Facebook.  I also read President Obama’s remarks and comments from local officials.  Overcome with emotion yet again, I knew I needed to focus on the job at hand and try to keep everything else in check.  So, phone turned off, it was time to get to the starting line.  We were close enough to where the busses picked up the runners to transport them to Hopkinton, so Dan and I ran there.  Yes, I ran a mile to get to the bus to run a marathon.  I found the loading zone, hopped on a bus, took a seat, and tried to relax.  I tried to just enjoy each moment and take it all in.  The runner seated next to me had been at the race in 2013.  She told me her story.  I sat and listened in awe.  She was kind enough to offer for me to hang out with her group at the runner’s village when we arrived at Hopkinton.  It was nice to focus on something other than the 26.2 miles that were ahead.

Once my corral was announced, we walked from the runner’s village to the starting line.  It had to be close to a mile.  Yes, I had already gotten in 2 miles before the race even started.  To say I was warmed up was an understatement.

The starting line was something to see.  The Boston police, Massachusetts state police, FBI, and Homeland Security were all there.  They were stationed along the starting line.  They were on top of buildings. Hopkinton, MA was likely the safest place in the world at that moment. Again, it was time to check the emotions and focus.  This was it!

I wish I could describe the race for you in as much detail as I did the journey getting there.  However, the race was quite challenging for me and I don’t recall all of it.  It was fairly warm that day.  I hadn’t been able to train as properly as I wanted to.  Those were just excuses though, and don’t really deserve any mention.  In the end, I had achieved what I set out to do.  I had qualified for and made it to the starting line of the race- something that was not guaranteed and almost lost at several different points.  I do remember trying my hardest to hold back on my pace as the hills were in the second half of the race.  I do remember the Wellesley girls giving kisses to runners.  I do remember the water stops, as the hydration was much needed that day and what kept me moving forward.  I do remember the streets being lined with countless police officers as we made our way from town-to-town en route to Boston.  I do remember willing myself to stay positive and to not worry about time.  I do remember thinking about my family at the finish line and praying for their safety.  I do remember not being able to pick up my pace, even after the hills had ended.

I will never forget finally getting to Boston.  I will never forget making the final turns to Boylston Street.  I will never forget seeing that finish line, this time as a runner.  I will never forget the emotion that overcame me and to which I finally gave in to.  Almost hyperventilating, I made it across the finish line with a slight pump of the fists.  I finished.  4:01:25. My slowest marathon time, but I didn’t care.  That number didn’t matter. I was officially a Boston Marathoner.

My workout wasn’t done quite yet, though.  I had to weave through the streets to the family meeting area to find Dan, my Mom and Dad, and Jim and Marianne.  I think it was less than a mile, but it felt much farther as I was so excited to be reunited with my family.  I made it to the Hs first. The intense security didn’t make it easy for them to get anywhere near the finish area.  I remember spotting them in the crowd and watched as they got closer and closer to me.  I needed them by my side, the people that helped me get to that moment.  It was at that point that I learned they had stood in the same spot for more than 4 hours to watch me finish. Apparently, the security procedures didn’t allow for a lot of roaming around.  It seems we all had stories to share about our day.

What a joy it was to celebrate my achievement with my family.  And celebrate we did.  At dinner that night, we ate.  And drank.  We exchanged stories from the day.  My runner’s high was at an all time record.  I didn’t want the moment to end.  Eventually, my stiff legs did need to move, though!  We retreated back to the hotel where there was maybe another celebratory drink or two.  Then, it was off to bed.

We went on to spend the next couple of days celebrating more and touring Boston.  We walked the Freedom Trail, visited Faneuil Hall Marketplace, made it over to Boston’s Little Italy, and ended the best way possible, with a trip to Cheers.

As noted in the beginning, running Boston Marathon is my highest and proudest achievement.  Being there in 2014 made it all that more emotional.  Boston is a special city with amazing people and a marathon tradition beyond compare.

Boston Strong.  Forever.

“A teacher is never too smart to learn from his pupils.” – Bill Bowerman, American Track and Field Coach and Nike Co-Founder

In 2012, while taking a hiatus from my career in Human Resources, I did something bold.  I came across a job posting on RaceberryJam.com for a Middle School Track and Field Coach at Providence Academy in Plymouth. After reading over the posting, I was highly interested in submitting my resume for consideration.  I was full of self doubt, however.  Would they consider a non-educator for a coaching role?  Would a private Catholic school hire a Lutheran?  Would I have the first clue about working with kids, specifically middle schoolers?  How would I handle sprint and field events, about which I knew next to nothing?  In retrospect, these all seem like silly concerns but at the time, they were real.  I finally determined I had nothing to lose so I emailed my resume to the head coach.  Initially, I didn’t hear anything so I sent a follow up email to see if I was still in consideration for the role, or if they had filled it with someone else.  To my surprise, I received almost an immediate response and was shortly thereafter asked to interview with the Athletic Director.  Even as I was sitting in my car in the parking lot at Providence before the interview, I considered backing out.  This is a bad idea, I thought to myself.  They will never hire me, so why put myself in a position to be turned down.  Well, needless to say, I interviewed and was offered the position!  I was so thrilled!

The spring of 2012 was the first time they offered track and field for middle schoolers at Providence Academy.  They hired 3 coaches and had about 25 kids sign up to participate.  At first, I thought that many coaches seemed excessive, but I quickly learned how much each of us was needed to make it a rewarding and educational experience for the kids.  The other two coaches were also runners, one being a seasoned marathoner and triathlete and the other a student teacher at a nearby school who also was a successful road racer.  What we might have lacked in coaching experience, we made up for in enthusiasm.  Once a week, we coaches dressed up in some silly theme.  We brought treats for the kids to every meet.  We’d make sure at least one workout each week was a game, such as a scavenger hunt or rainbow run, complete with prizes for the winning teams.  Many practices would end at a nearby park where play time was rewarded after the scheduled workout.  And when the school told us we couldn’t have a banquet at the end of the season (as no middle school sports were allowed this), we did our own celebration potluck style at the park.  I’m not sure who had more fun throughout the season, the kids or the coaches!

All of the fears we coaches had about our inexperience quickly vanished when we discovered these kids just needed to learn about track and field. Some of them had no idea what all the sport entailed, what the different events were, what the distance of the track was, which way to run around the track, or what the different pieces of equipment were called.  But they were unafraid to try new things and I was so impressed.  If we announced we needed someone to run the mile, there was always a volunteer.  Each meet without fail, we’d have kids signed up for too many events and they were so disappointed when we told them they needed to give up something.  One of the smallest girls on the team came up to me before one meet and said she wanted to do the event with the really heavy ball. We put her in the shot put!  It was so great to watch them try and to take pride in their accomplishments.  

Being a coach for that 2012 season of middle school track was one of the best jobs I have ever had, though it’s hard to even call something so enjoyable work.  So when I was asked to be an assistant coach for cross country in the fall, I quickly said yes.  Accepting this role afforded me the opportunity to work with Rick Kleyman, a MN coaching legend.  He has been running for 61 years and coaching for 49 years.  I learned so much under Coach Kleyman:  how far the young kids should run, how to handle injuries, the art of pacing and racing, and perhaps most importantly, that it is okay to walk at scheduled intervals (as long as you walk fast).  He could recall statistics unlike anyone I’ve ever known and he would share story after story about racing with coaches and kids.

One of the unique traditions at Providence Academy was the Homecoming Run.  The cross country team would relay the football from the visiting team’s school to Providence, arriving just in time for the pre-game ceremonies.  I had the privilege of organizing it one year, which was no small task.  It required a lot of parent involvement, as they drove the kids to and from their relay legs.  It was also critical to get the timing correct so the seniors could run the ball onto the field and not hold up the festivities.  I thought it was a wonderful way to incorporate cross country into Homecoming and make it more than just about football.

In all, I coached 3 seasons of track and 2 seasons of cross country at Providence Academy.  In that time, I also obtained my MN State High School League Coaches Certification.  I learned so much about running and coaching from my colleagues.  I met so many talented, bright, and thoughtful kids and their supportive, devoted parents.  I was able to watch a couple of our athletes compete at the state level in both cross country and track.

The most important things I learned, though, came from the kids themselves.  Sure, they taught me all the latest and hippest phrases and sayings.  Sure, I learned that I actually did have things that I could teach them.  But above all else, they reminded me to have a goal and then stop at nothing to achieve it.  Providence Academy is a challenging and rigorous school.  It wasn’t unusual for kids to be playing in multiple sports during the same season, singing in the choir or playing in the band, participating in some academic league, all while managing their intense homework load.  No matter all the demands placed on them, they set goals and worked towards them.  They did their best in everything.  Everyday.  I was in awe of them and their determination.  Sure, I might have imparted a few tidbits of wisdom or provided some inspiration to them.  But I’m the one who walked away a winner.

I realize that I am extremely lucky to have had such a rewarding and enjoyable experience as a coach.  I am very grateful to the head coaches, athletic director, the kids, and the parents for making it the best “job” I’ve ever had.  Providence Academy is a fantastic school with wonderful staff and even more amazing young people.  The Lions will always have a special place in my heart!