and so it begins

Today starts out the same as it did last week.
The alarm goes off around 5.  Just like last week.
I clear the fog in my head, drink my Starbucks and thumb through FB.  Just like last week.
I lace up my running shoes and put on my Garmin. Just like last week.

The difference is today I run with a heavy heart (and heavy legs).
Last week I set out to run the race of my life.
Three hours and forty nine minutes go by of pure exhilaration, joy, tears, sweat and determination.
I cross the finish line feeling something I can't quite explain.
It was my moment.  It was our moment.

Then in an instant it was taken away from me.  Taken away from all of us.  What gave them the right?

This morning I will run and remember all the runners that couldn't finish the journey they started last Monday morning.  This afternoon we will run and remember the innocent people that were hurt just because they were cheering us on. Their lives forever changed in a way I can not imagine.

I will be back Boston.  Whatever it takes to get there I will do it.
I am strong. We are strong.

Go Runners.  Go Boston.

*when the time feels right, i will tell you the tales of my boston adventure. it is something i'd like to write about because i never want to forget it. i will be back to boston to create new memories. and to honor those that cannot do so.

the last long run

T minus 6 days until the big dance.  The big dance of running, that is...the Boston Marathon.  As I struggle with a myriad of emotions ranging from nervous to downright frightened to confident to skeptical to excited, I try to find ways to occupy my time that I'd otherwise either be a) running, b) obsessing about race day weather, or c) obsessing about everything and anything.

So I blog.

I'd like to share a little pictorial of my last long run before Boston.  This took place on our Spring Break to Washington DC...just me and Siri on my iPhone.

pre run shot in the bathroom at our hotel.  trying not wake up the rest of the family at a stupid early hour, i hung out in here, drinking my coffee, checking facebook, texting friends.  you know, the usual things you do in a hotel bathroom at 6am before a 12 mile run.

mile 3: the capital.  i love how the sun shines on the building. i don't love my shellshocked look here.

mile 4ish: washington monument. there was a freaky homeless guy steps away from me hence the scary looking expression on my face.  ok.  no freaky homeless guy.  just a scary look on my face.

around mile 6-7 I crossed over the Arlington Memorial Bridge to Arlington National Cemetery. Breathtaking. No "joggers" (ahem.  i am a runner) allowed in the Cemetery but I sneaked in to grab this shot of the tombstones in the distance.

just shy of 8 miles I cross back over the bridge to head back to the monuments.  i love looking at all the crew boats (i used to row in college) glide their oars through the Potomac. they all look effortless.  i too feel effortless, graceful...until...

OUCH!

 my collegiate nostalgia abruptly ends as I face plant on the middle of the bridge. and I went down HARD. I am pretty sure part of my elbow skin is tattooed on the ground.  but, it's all good:  my new North Face coat didn't rip, my favorite Nike 3/4 pants are still intact and the blood stains eventually came out of my Smartwool shirt.  Pressing on...

a little sun in my eyes and a bruised ego i hit (not literally thank goodness.  but the way my luck was going...) the Lincoln Memorial around mile 9.

my path back.  reflecting pool and monuments in the background. breathtaking.

and no, i did not fall into the reflecting pool as i looked at the landscape.  smart ass.

white house in the background.  mile 10. homestretch. i wish i could tell you that is obama and michelle  playing football behind me. it would really put this story over the top.

ah.  the piece de resistance. grande americano. please and thank you. 

12 miles down.  26.2 to go.

See you in Beantown friends!