Without Rain there are NO rainbows

It was a rough run for me. I was fatigued from the week before the run. I was run down and running on very little sleep. My stomach had also been giving me problems. I was grouchy about the sleeping arrangements and feeling cramped with so many people in the car. I was worried about being away from my baby for the first time since she was born and really thirsty the whole time.

My only focus was on finishing with a 12 minute 30 second pace which would allow me to match or beat my time by at least a minute. Could I do it?

I would have to chop my marathon time by 7 minutes but it would be half the distance. So I figured that it was manageable.



It didn't happen. I was so dead at mile 3 that it became a fight to get through each mile after that. I knew at that point that it was going to be struggle to get this thing done.

Something changed in me after that point, my other marathons have been more about finishing and I had a goal to finish this one was a grueling task that I just wanted done. It was torture. How could this be fun? How could I love this enough to do it over and over? I was nuts. I knew I was going to cry at the end and make up some excuse for doing badly. Anything to not make it look like I wasn't prepared.


At mile 5, I was hoping that I would slip into that "dead zone" that Earl mentioned at a meeting. That stretch of mileage between the beginning and the end miles, for a half miles 4-9. The miles are just there, there is no significance to them other than pain and self doubt. But no such thing had happened.

The only thing that kept me going was the idea that in 2 hours I would be with my baby girl and maybe eating some Salt and Vinegar chips in the warmth of my car.

At mile 9 about 2 hours in, the rain began to come down in sheets. My whole right arm was soaked and cold. I began to run with my left wrist facing upwards so that my Garmin wouldn't get wet. My shoes were squishing with rain water. The gels were making me sick. The Gatorade on the course was sour. My belly was full of water and I still had 4 miles to go.



I finally gave in and realized that I couldn't run 2 miles in 15 minutes or less. So I modified my plan to finish sub 3 hours. My tank was empty, every time I got enough strength to pick up the pace and trot a little I could only run for 100 yards or less and then walk.


I was even walking into the finish line. I was broken and tired and hungry and slow.


I was expecting Lisa to pass me up somewhere along the course because I was running such a bad race.


At the finish was my mom, I didn't cry at the finish this time because I didn't feel like my accomplishments weren't anything to be proud of.


I hugged my mom and my baby girl. My hubby was off at the massage tent but I still had one Raptor on the course. The Raptor that I worried the most about, when the ambulance passed us on the course I was praying, "Please, not Lisa, Please not Lisa."


They placed the medal around my neck and I was happy that I had enough energy in me to smile.


I had a lousy run then...

Lisa came in and all tears broke loose. It was like the rainbow at the end of the storm. In my mind, I knew that Jasper could make it because he always shrugs off the distance so, I figured he didn't need my positive thoughts to get this done. He was going to finish. I've never seen Lisa struggle physically and I was worried but I didn't let her know. When I saw her finish, I realized that this wasn't my run- it was Lisa's.

I was happier than I've ever been, I crossed my sister. I was a good coach. I could do this. I don't do it for me, I do it for my Raptors. They continuously give me purpose in my distance running.

Thank you Lisa. You made my awful race a race to remember. You made this race seem amazing.