Once upon a time (okay, it was last weekend) in a land far, far away (Alaska, so maybe add one more “far”), there lived a neurotic red head with an audacious idea stuck in her head about running a Boston qualifying marathon. Truth be told, it was her Fairy Runmother, Salty, who got her into this mess, leading her to believe it was actually possible to progress from barely finishing a 5k to chasing down a 3:35 marathon.
And for the record, as usual, Salty was right. Because – wait for it – I just ran 26.2 freaking miles at a waaay faster pace than my first 5k. Can we just pause for a minute while you apply this little tidbit to your own life? Because I’m telling you, three years ago, I had NO reason to believe I could do this. NONE. With a little willingness to suffer and a stubborn commitment to log the miles, you’d be amazed how far (and fast) you’re capable of going.
Anyway, I suppose I should stop with the Tony Robbins impersonations and just get on with the race report. Because nothing says inspirational quite like the minutia of mile splits and intestinal issues. Read more >>