The morning started off pretty well. We spent the night at the home of Ursula's brother. We had a nice pasta dinner the night before, and I felt pretty well rested . . . as good as you can feel after "pre-marathon sleep." Ursula and I got on our running gear, ate a banana, had some peanut butter, and then headed out the door. Fortunately we had a parking pass and arrived in plenty of time for the race. We both visited the porta-potties, and then bumped into several RMEC members. Everyone was excited and ready to run. We were truly blessed with perfect marathon weather.
This was the first race I decided beforehand I was going to try to qualify for Boston. I always try to run my races hard, but I had never decided to start out at a BQ pace and maintain it. Normally I have two goals . . . 1) finish and 2) set a PR (depending on the course).
Shortly before the race I head to the woods to speak with a tree. I bump in to Dennis (luckily, not in the literal sense) while there. I head back to the start area and meet up with Ryan, Cliff, Jeff, Dave, and Dennis. We wait, and wait, and wait . . . for the Half Marathon to start. Finally around 17 minutes late they take off. The marathoners now move into the starting corrals.
As I promised the guys, I was not going to start with them so I stood back about 20 feet from them. It is a mental thing for me, but I always gasp for air while trying to keep up with Jeff on a group run. I did not need that thought entering my head during the race. So I convinced myself that running the same speed, but 50 feet behind him was different.
The horn sounds and we are off. We left around nine minutes after the half marathon. Keep in mind; it took five minutes for all half marathoners to cross the start. So by the time we hit the main road you could already see hundreds of half marathoners just ahead. It took no time before we were on top of them. Often they were walking three and four wide across the road. So we dodge left and right around them. It was not their fault we caught up so quickly; the race simply didn't allow a sufficient gap. It created frustration for both groups of runners.
At mile three, we entered the American Tobacco Trail. At this point all the half runners go right and we go left. Temporarily we are out of the crowds and all running the same direction. This gives us a chance to spread out and settle into our race pace. I keep looking ahead and watch for the orange Medoc shirt of Dennis. I knew the guys were targeting an even pace 3:15:00 for the race, so keeping them close is where I needed to be. To qualify I needed a 3:15:59, so I had a little cushion if I could hang on.
Around mile 4, I see Dennis jump off the trail to talk to another tree. I hold my pace and keep my distance from the guys. My 50 foot gap has closed to about 20 feet which I did not intend to do this early. Eventually Dennis comes back by me. He sees me and we run the next two miles together. Eventually I talk too loud (as I am known to do) and Ryan looks over his shoulder and says, "I thought I recognized that voice".
So I now officially join Dennis, Ryan, Jeff, and Dave. We are five strong, plus two guys (
Mr. Red and
Mr. White), and a strong female masters runner (
Ms. Tech Hat). We are actually about 100 feet behind the official 3:15 pace group. He started out ahead of pace, but Jeff stuck to the plan. He had a pace band and a non-GPS watch. Each mile he would report how we were doing.
As we get close to the first U-turn, we can start to count the lead women coming back. I found it pretty cool to know I am bumping elbows with the top 10 women in a race. I hold their talent in high regard, and love to watch them race. Looking at the gun time splits, I now know I am about in 110th place. Once we turn around, we soon start to see the RMEC.
First we see Cliff, then Patti right behind. Tracy passes soon after wearing long pants, a jacket, and gloves (I am happy to just be in a sleeveless top). I instantly worry that Tracy is having a bad day (but was I wrong). We pass Gerry, Kinnie, Julian, Levi, Yvonne, and more. Always uplifting to see the RMEC. Later on we pass Eric. . . huh? Why is Eric running that fast, but yet so far back? This apparently is what happens to runners when you don't send a bus to take them to the start.
Although the two-way runner traffic is fun, it starts to wear on you. Once we get back to the original mile 3, we cross the road and continue on the trail. Now we are all running the same direction again, and can spread out. We hit a mile and Jeff announces, "We are way ahead." Awesome I think to myself. He then says, "We are 20 seconds under." Not exactly what I call "way" ahead, but I am still happy knowing that I have a 59 second cushion. We hit mile 13 where the mat takes another split. Post race I see that I was about 100th now, so we had moved up about 10 spots.
After the calm portion of the trail we soon get to the other long out-and-back section. This area of the trail is chaos. There are marathoners and half-marathon walkers going out. There are also half marathoners coming back, and about to be lead marathoners coming back too. Not to mention a few locals out for a run. If you are not paying attention you will have a very painful head-on collision.
Dennis and I somehow wiggled our way to the front of our group with Dave right beside. We eventually catch the official 3:15 pacer. We hang with him as best as we can. Towards the end of the trail, it actually becomes just plain dirt. I remember this from last year, and know we are close to the final U-turn. When we make the turn I realize we have pulled slightly ahead of Jeff and Ryan.
From this point forward, the fun is gone. It is now work. The chatter has all but stopped. I keep my head down and just try to hang with the pacer. Dave is now running like he is tied to the pacer. We pass the RMEC runners again, and I fake enthusiasm, but I was hurting and just wanted to be off the trail.
Around mile 22 there is actually a decent hill to get off the trail. You don't notice it on the "out" trip, but you can't miss it on the return trip. It is long and tough. A fellow runner says "Michael Forrester" as I run by. I look over to see my pace group leader from the City of Oaks Marathon. Great guy who I seem to bump into at random places. I tell him, "I wish you could get me home today." He tells me it is not his day and to stick with Tim (the 3:15 pacer).
As we climb the last hill, the 3:15 pacer begins to open up a gap, and I couldn't stop it. Before he moved ahead I heard him say, "We have a minute in the bank." That means I have two minutes. Can I do this?
The gap widens little by little. All I try to do now is keep his yellow shirt in sight. Doing the math in my head we had been staying just under 7:30s. I had four miles to go. If I was two minutes ahead this meant I could drop to 8:00s for the last four and still qualify, right?! Wait, I am not sure. My GPS distance is off, and I started my watch late. . . do I add time or subtract time. . . crap. . . I can't do this!
In 2010, I walked some of the roads and still set a PR. I knew I had a PR today, Why not walk some? You will still break 3:20. No!. . . just push a little more. . . did my watch just say 8:00 pace? Is it slipping away? Just jog it in. . . NO! You have two miles to go. You will not be this close again, keep pushing.
My form is shot, I know I must just shuffling now. My pace feels like 10:00, so why does my watch still show 7:30s? One more turn left. Crap! Another hill. . . and this is not the finish line. . . you must be kidding me. Don't give up now. Every second counts. . . This is going to be close. Just one final straight away after this last turn. . .
Wait. . . my watch says 3:14? I only have 100 yards left. Did I just make it? Holy crap! I am about to qualify. I smile for the first time in probably 10 miles. Just don't fall down.
I turn the corner and see the finish line. The only person I see is Kevin to the right. I point at my watch and smile again. I run the last .2 of the race at a 6:38. I leap across the finish line in what felt like three feet off the ground (it was closer to three inches). Dave had finished 40 seconds before me and I barrel into him with a big "man hug." My final time was time was 3:14:41. I finished in 65th place.
I get my medal and come through the chute. I see Ursula standing there with tears in her eyes and get a big hug. I would have cried too, but that would take energy I simply didn't have. Seeing her proud of me was the biggest prize I will take from this race.
I see Ryan, Jeff, and Dennis come through the chute soon after. I never would have made it without all four of these men. I eventually make my way to the car and get my phone. I call my parents and leave a message. Telling them I qualified was when the emotions finally came out. My voice shook and I teared up. I never really thought I cared if I qualified, turns out I was wrong.
Being a mom is a full-time job. All parents (especially moms) know how difficult it can be to put your needs first when you have young children…I think most of us would agree that we “need” to run if not for our physical health, for our sanity! I have been told by my children on more than one stressful occasion, “Mommy, you need to go for a run!” I know I need to run. They know I need to run. My husband knows that I need to run. Despite all of that knowing and understanding, somehow a mom’s training schedule usually get bumped lower on the priority list when it comes to meeting the demands of our families. 
