Marathon Diaries, Part 1: Perseverance: Get it.

I gave everything I had to get to that finish line. But, along the way I took in an incredible amount of perspective, insight and inspiration. So much in fact that to tell you about it, it will have to come in pieces. Here is Part 1 – Perseverance: Get it.

As I was carbo-loading the night before the marathon, my nephew was excitedly telling me that he can now skip a bar as a he swings across the monkey bars. His actual words: “Yeah. My friend taught me how. I couldn’t do it a first, but I just persevered. And then I could do it.” Yes, he uses words like persevere. He’s 7.

I never thought I’d be a marathoner, but after months of training I was there at the starting line of the Marine Corps Marathon with 25,000 others. I had hours of work ahead and the determination to get to the finish line. Words like perseverance, determination, hard, almost there, cramp, happy, dig deep, pain, finish - all of these words took on a new meaning last Sunday as I moved through all 26.2 miles of my first marathon. Inspiration and insight came from within this pack of people around me – runners, walkers, bystanders, Marines.

Mile 3

I saw him first in Georgetown on the hill up to the reservoir. A racer in a wheelchair digging deep to get up that hill. He was working hard but the progress was slow. Very slow. There was a battle between determination and defeat going on, you could see that in his face. But one thing was clear, he was getting up that hill. Every runner that passed cheered him on – Get it. You got this. Way to go man. A mile after that hill, I heard shouts from behind me. Get left. Chair coming through. Get left. We all started to yell it forward as he made his way through on the right side. We cheered as he passed. All of us happy to see that he won that battle. Each hill for the next 6 miles, the same would happen. He flew by me coming out of the water stop at mile 11, heading into Haines Point. I never saw him again. I would have loved to see him finish. That last .2 hill to the finish line was brutal, but I saw his determination and I know he got to the top.

Mile 20

Everyone says you hit the wall around mile 20. It’s true. It’s a brick wall built of extreme pain, self-deprecating thoughts and exhaustion. My foot was throbbing. My legs. Oh, my legs. It hurt everywhere. My time was much slower than I had anticipated and I was becoming more and more terrified of not being able to “beat the bridge.” (not getting to the 14^th Street bridge by a certain time, meant not being able to finish the race) And as I turned onto 14^th Street, I saw my dad, brother and nephew cheering me on. I burst into tears. My brother paced me for about a half a mile. He told me – this is the part I told you about. I know it hurts. But you’re there. You’ve done this. Now, you just finish it...Or something like that. What he didn’t tell me is that the 14^th Street Bridge is the longest bridge known to man. It may as well have been a mountain. I felt like hell, and it seemed like I was making zero progress. This bridge was never ending! And, it wasn’t just me. So many around me appeared to be so relieved to beat the bridge that their paces slowed significantly. We were all just shuffling forward, giving into the battle of determination vs. defeat.

Then something switched. I just wanted to get off this bridge and finish this race, but I was going to have work for it. I asked a bystander in the crowd to tie my right shoe tighter. Delirious Race Logic: if you can’t stop the pain, just make your shoe tighter so you can’t feel it anymore. I turned up my music, and for the next 5 miles told myself, sometimes out loud, “it’s all in your head.” I dug deep, and I got to the top of my personal hill. I couldn’t do it at first. But, I just persevered. And, then I could do it.

Post Marathon finish with our nephew.

I Know I'm Not Hopeless Case

This is it. I am 7 days from my first marathon. The Marine Corps Marathon. I am, in a word, emotional. I think about the finish line and my eyes well up with tears. The finish line. Sigh. In my short running career (18 months), I’ve cried every time I’ve crossed one. All four times. It’s an experience that is hard to describe. All in one moment you feel empowered, accomplished, humbled, proud, and most of all a euphoric joy.

In October 2001, I was a spectator at the Marine Corps Marathon and cheering on my brother in his 2^nd face-off with this course. There was an incredible sense of unity in the nation’s capital, just a few weeks past the dreadful events of 9/11. The patriotic spirit in the crowd was palpable. As a kid, I’d been to the race at least 3 times to cheer for my dad, a career marine. (His P.R. on the course – 3:03. I won’t even be close.) This race in 2001, I remember clearly. Jumping on the metro here and there with my dad and husband. Racing to cheer Travis on at the next mile marker. Seeing runners clad in American Flags, taking out their cameras for pictures of the monuments. Watching exhausted runners push themselves up the hill to the finish. (Yes, you read that right. It is UP hill to the finish. Marines....)

The most inspiring image came at the finish line. With my dad’s connections (he's kind of a big deal) we had secured a prime vantage point behind the finish line. It’s an amazing spot to see the runner’s expressions as they cross the line that they worked so hard to reach. For 8 years, I’ve thought repeatedly about one woman’s finish. “It’s A Beautiful Day” was blasting through the speakers. The sun was shining down on the finish line. And after watching several runners finish in what appeared to be excruciating pain, I saw this woman approaching the line. She was determined. She was focused. She was smiling. And, just as Bono reached the full emotion of the song, she threw her arms out to her sides, arched her head up to the sun, and crossed the finish line. Her expression was full of joy, accomplishment, pride and peace. To this day, when I hear that song, I see her face. It was that beautiful of a moment. I’ve thought a lot about her as I’ve trained for this race. And, I’ve thought a lot about crossing the finish line myself. "What you don't know you can feel it somehow." That is what has pushed me through this training, through the pain and through the desire to hit the snooze button instead of going out for a run.

It should be no surprise that I’ve also thought a lot about dessert. Whoopie Pies to be specific. I’m not sure where or when the tradition started. I just know that anytime my dad or brother ran a marathon, my mom made Whoopie Pies. Now, I will have earned mine. And because Carl’s Ice Cream is positioned perfectly half way between D.C and my parent’s house, we will be stopping there for a cone. And perhaps, a milkshake.

The Francese Fiasco

The night of our 1 month wedding anniversary (9 years ago), I decided to make my husband his favorite dinner from our favorite Italian Restaurant. Chicken Francese. I was a married, grown-up woman and I was going to cook a fancy dish for my man because that’s what married, grown-up women do. I was excited. I felt domesticated. Empowered. The queen of my kitchen. Or, so I thought.

I grew up watching my mom and grandmothers in the kitchen. They rarely had recipes out or cookbooks. They just moved about the kitchen in a fluid motion, as if they didn’t have to think about it. Dashing this and that into the pan. Making substitutions if they were missing ingredients. Somehow on this night, I got into my head that after just 1 month of being married, and of cooking for two, I had reached this level of domestic diva. I had not.

As I opened the Joy of Cooking to the recipe, I realized the only ingredient that I actually had on hand for this dish was Chicken. But, I really wanted to make this dish so, I substituted, very poorly, every other ingredient. My substitutions and thinking went like this: Chicken Broth. Hmm. I don’t have any Chicken Broth. So, it needs to simmer in liquid…..i’ll just add more butter. Capers? Who has capers? They’ve got kind of a lemon flavor. I’ll just squeeze some lemon in there. Shallots. What the hell are those? I think they’re like onions. I’ll just dice up some onion. Clearly, you see where this disaster is headed. I was also doing all of this while talking on the phone, no less. My mom can talk on the phone while she cooks. But not me, not at this point in my cooking career. So on top of the ignorant solutions for substitutions, I burned the chicken.

My husband of one month came home to find 3 smoke alarms on the porch (because frankly I couldn’t get them to stop) and all the windows and doors open. But, I was not yet deterred. I had opened two place settings of our still boxed wedding china. Lit candles and had music playing. And, I very proudly presented him with his favorite dish. He was kind. He ate. One bite. Two bites. Looking back, I can see the fear in his eyes, but at the time I didn’t recognize it. I ate.

It took me one bite to realize that I was nowhere near the cooking expertise of my mother or my grandmothers. I could not make substitutions or be distracted while cooking. And, this thing on the plate tasted nothing like Chicken Francese.

We ordered pizza.

I’ve come a long way from the Francese Fiasco, but I have never attempted to make it again. Seth, however, makes a delicious version. I had so many expectations of myself as a new wife. Of what I should be. Of what marriage should be.

On my longer runs lately, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. You tend to do that when you have no access to TV, Facebook or Twitter. And ever since seeing 500 Days of Summer (which you should see if you haven’t), I’ve thought a lot about expectations vs. reality. It was one of my favorite scenes in the movie. Who couldn’t identify with the comparison of how you want and imagine something will turn out, and how it is in reality.

So I run. And, I think about the expectations that I have of myself, and the pressure I put on myself to meet those. I think about goals and what’s next. It can get overwhelming and daunting. Just like opening the Joy of Cooking for the first time. Or training for 26.2 miles. So, I just remind myself that I am here in this moment, running this mile. I’ll deal with the next mile when I get there. I know the next mile is there. I can plan for it. I can train for it. Substitutions and expectations will do me no good. If I'm missing ingredients or elements, then I may need to change my plans, or at least my expectations.

It is what it is. To not accept that will only set off smoke alarms.

Maybe I'm Crazy...

When I tell people that I'm training for a marathon, they often respond with a look of -why? Or, more often - you are outta yo mind fool.

Tonight as I got ready for bed...at 10pm on a friday night...applied a cup full of bengay to my left leg... following an hour with the foam roller... took advil to ease the pain... layed out bengay patches to adhere pre-run... set my alarm for 5am (on saturday morning)...looked in the mirror and said I can do 22 miles....frankly I started to see their point.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

My Milkshake....

Following a pretty miserable (more to come on that in another blog) 11 mile run this morning, I was pleased to discover (from my friend Melissa) that today is National Chocolate Milkshake Day. I'm not going to question why it exists.

If I was on the East Coast, I'd hit up Bruster's - my favorite chocolate milkshake, without question. Here on the west coast the solid choice was In-N-Out. Only complaint - just 1 size option which I like to call "not big enough."

P.S. If you want to celebrate Chocolate Milkshake Day but are watching your calorie intake, check out this recipe from Hungry Girl!

Rhythm of the beat

There is a debate in the running community over music – ipod or not to ipod. My brother is firmly in the not to ipod camp. He has been running since he was 8, maybe younger. He started to run pre-ipod, pre-mp3, pre-discman, pre-walkman….sorry bro, not meaning to make you look old, technology has just progressed quite a bit. When I first started to run, Travis encouraged me to train without music. His number one argument – you begin to depend on it. Kicking the dirt. It’s a valid point. Wait a second. Here’s mine – I’m running for multiple hours! I’ve earned the right to rock-a-beat.

For those of you who stand with me on the pro-tunes side of the running trail, you understand that a good playlist is essential. I hate wasting $1 (well now, $1.29) on songs that I ultimately skip every run. After a year of running with the same playlist, I’ve recently divided my lists up to fit the mood, length or speed of my run. My brother just cringed. Not only do I have music, but I've custom fit it to my runs.

My taste in music is all over the place, so try and keep up!

Easy Run: This is typically used for my recovery run, or an early morning, girl-needs-to-clear-her-head run. Slow, easy, mellow. These are all tunes that put me in a happy place.

• Go Ahead – Alicia Keyes
• I Need You – Alicia Keyes
• No One – Alicia Keyes
• You Picked Me – A Fine Frenzy
• Come On, Come Out – A Fine Frenzy
• Love Song – Sara Bareilles
• Lifesize – A Fine Frenzy
• Past in Present – Fesit
• 1234 – Feist
• Pocketful of Sunshine – Natasha Bedingfield
• Heads Carolina, Tails California* – Jo Dee Messina *yes, it’s random with these others, but holds significant personal meaning!
• Everybody’s Free (to feel good) – The Hit Crew
• Beautiful Day – U2

Pick up the Pace: This is my most used playlist. It’s happy and light, yet motivating. I use it to start out a long run, or to do my mid-week mileage.

• Pocketful of Sunshine – Natasha Bedingfield
• Love Song – Sara Bareilles
• For the Actor – Mates of State
• Dream Vacation – The Maybellines
• Bad Education – Tilly and the Wall
• On Top – The Killers
• Change Your Mind – The Killers
• Over My Head – The Fray
• Inside Out – Eve 6
• Smile Like You Mean It – The Killers
• How Far We’ve Come – Matchbox Twenty
• Just the Girl – The Click Five
• I Just Wanna Live – Good Charlotte
• Human – The Killers
• Mr. Brightside – The Killers
• Stay With You – The Goo Goo Dolls
• Viva La Vida – Coldplay
• Beautiful Day – U2

* a good portion of this mix is the work of DJ Master Mix of Indie Rock Lauren Gibson

Kick It: I go to this playlist when I need some extra motivation on an afternoon or evening run, or if I have to move my run indoors to a treadmill.

• Family Affair – Mary J Blige
• I Just Wanna Live – Good Charlotte
• Crazy – Gnarls Barkley
• Who Knew – P!nk
• Hollywood – Collective Soul
• Don’t Stop the Music – Rihanna
• American Boy – Estelle
• Shake It – Metro Station
• Y Yo Sigo Aqui - Paulina Rubio
• One Step At a Time – Jordin Sparks – don’t judge me.
• Girlfriend – Avril Lavigne -ibid.
• Sugar, We’re Goin Down – Fall Out Boy
• Don’t Funk With My Heart – Black Eyed Peas

Highlights from my Marathon Mix: some of my favorites from my Marathon Mix that aren’t listed above

• Pony (It’s Ok) – Erin McCarley this was a free download of the week and I LOVE it!
• Dirty Living – Brendan James
• The One I’m Waiting For – Relient K
• Who I Am Hates Who I’ve Been – Relient K
• Dare You To Move – Switchfoot
• Open Skies – David Crowder Band

Purchase pending my next itunes gift card:

• Use Somebody – Kings of Leon
• I Gotta Feelin – Black Eyed Peas
• Sex on Fire – Kings of Leon
• Please Don’t Leave Me – P!nk
• Don’t Stop Believin – Journey
• Boom Boom Pow – Black Eyed Peas
• Super Massive Black Hole – Muse
• Love Story – Taylor Swift *I know. I just can’t help it.

If I am in a store, driving my car, wherever and I hear any of these songs, I feel compelled to run. What music moves you? What's on your playlist?

- thanks to Richelle for asking what was on my playlist!

Hey 19, Kiss This!

After feeling so great about my 19 mile run, I decided to hit up a bakery that I've been following on twitter for a mouthwatering long time. Kiss My Bundt. She had me at her pun. Plus, the word bundt reminds me of my dear friend Jodie, and how whenever we say Bundt (which comes up more often than one would think) we STILL reenact the scene from My Big Fat Greek Wedding. And still find it hilarious, every time!

I met up with my friend Melissa, who had run 9 miles that morning. I tasted a slice of the "Big Ol' Bundt" of the day, and Melissa had the Red Velvet mini-bundt. mmm.mmm. My slice was the most seriously moist cake that I believe I've ever had.

Clearly, it wasn't fair for me to leave Seth out. He'd run 19 miles too. I'm a giver, what can I say. And, I needed to justify seconds. So, I got a box of 4 mini-bundts to take home. Carrot Cake, Cookies & Cream, Lemon & Red Velvet. Our personal opinion... the red velvet and cookies and cream were the best of this foursome.

Craving some Red Velvet? The LA Times recently posted Kiss My Bundt's Red Velvet Recipe.