BQ or Bust Round 2: Keep Showing Up

I really didn't think I'd be sitting down to tell this story. Yet, here we are.

I'm currently sitting in my Normatec boots, post flush recovery swim, pre early bedtime because I'm a believing in all forms of recovery.

I really never thought Saturday's marathon would end the way it did.

I had my time to be upset, even though it wasn't much.

Yes, I'm ok. Definitely bummed, but not crushed.

Yes, I'm already formulating Plan B.

No, I don't think I took on to much at once. I live for life under pressure.

No, my quest to Boston isn't over just yet.

BFG brother to offer immediate comforts

I didn't have a hard time sleeping on Friday night. I had a full week at work and was able to zonk without to much tossing and turning. When my alarm went off my feet hit the floor and I started the process.

Bathroom. Brush teeth. Coffee. Banana. Toast the bread. Coat with generous portion of peanut butter and jelly. Scroll email/news while I let my stomach realize that this is breakfast time at 3:15am. 

I arrived to the race site and was able to grab my bib immediately and headed back to my car where I sat in the warmth until I absolutely had to get out and start my warm up to the start line. Long time friend Jason had just moved back home after finishing chiropractic school in Florida and he kept me company until Rob showed up and we all ventured to the start.

A few things you need to know about this race: 

1. The course is a 3.25 mile loop that is run around a forest preserve in Batavia, IL.

2. It's extremely flat and fast.

3. There are 2 aid stations per loop, for a total of 16 aid stations over 26 miles. 

4. The bib numbers are assigned by BQ standards. My BQ time is 3:30. My bib number was 33014. Hence, I should be on the lookout on course for other bibs that started with "330" and the 14 recognized that I was the 14th person in my age group to register. 

5. An "elite" water bottle station was set up so you could drop a water bottle mixed with whatever concoction/nutrition you preferred for your race and grab it once during each loop. 

6. Because of its looped nature, I was able to see any spectator 8 times over 26.2 miles. This was HUGE for my mental game. 

7. The pace groups are paced to finish 1 minute under your respective qualifying time to ensure you qualify for Boston if you finish with the appropriate pace group. 

I kissed Rob goodbye, gave Jason a high five and took off for the start to find the appropriate pace group. I wasn't about to get friendly with the 3:30 group because we all know after last year, it takes more than 1 minute to solidify entry into this race. So I meandered to the 3:25 group and found 1 other female. {Technically, 3:30 is the fastest any female has to run to qualify for Boston so the fact that I saw any other female with the 3:25 group meant that she was here for the same reasons I was.} We instantly made eye contact, I noted her bib number, 33017, and she walked up to me. "Not interested in the 3:30 group, eh?" My kinda girl. "Me either, I missed entry into Boston last year because of 10 seconds so I'm not playing around anymore." HOLY HELL I THOUGHT MY 19 SECONDS WAS HEART BREAKING. I knew right away this girl was one to hang onto. The gun went off and we formally introduced ourselves as we crossed the timing pads. "Hi, I'm Megan." "Nice to meet you, I'm Emily." 

Meet Emily, in the American flag arm sleeves

Emily and I immediately latched onto each other made friends with the 3:25 pace group. She's from Indianapolis. I'm from down the street. Our pacer in the bright yellow asked, "so, who do you run with?" I asked if he knew Jacqui and Ryan Giuliano. He laughed and smirked from ear to ear. "Oh of course I do!" Mile 1 ticket by at 7:41 and we all laughed as a group. Welp, we got 5 seconds to excited. Just after mile 2 (7:44) I told the pacer to be on the lookout for Jacqui, just up the road. And sure enough, there she was smiling and cheering away. He yelled, "HEY! I told her I knew Jacqui Giuliano!" 

Because I was SO excited to see cheering squad number 1!

We were closing in on mile 3 and just about done with the first lap and I could tell the body was feeling AMAZING. No aches. No "maybe that mile was a bit fast" issues. Just cruise control. This is what I'd hoped for a lot longer than I had it. As we clocked mile 3 at 7:32, we noted that we needed to slow down, regardless of how good we felt. The only problem was that I noticed my watch wasn't always reading proper pacing. I never expect it to be perfect, but at times I'd glance at my watch at see a 9 minute pace, forcing me to up the pace. 

We closed out the first lap and I spotted Life Time mentor and friend Karie on the side of the path, arm extended to wish me will, leaning over to remind me to keep my shoulders relaxed and stay smooth with my strides. Karie is someone I've known of is the racing circuit for quite a while, but only in the past 4 months have we started a true friendship. And I have to say, there's something about her voice, her stern reminders. She elicits a confidence and certainty when she speaks, and today was no different. I took her advice and kept my eyes straight ahead. eyes on the prize. 

Mile 4 clicked at 7:30 and I knew then that Emily and I needed to slow down. Although, something weird happened. When we slowed down, we lost the group. As in, they fell behind us. We held stride for stride but continued to run ahead of the of 3:25 group. Mile 5 clocked a 7:57, welcomed after so many fast miles. But then we noticed that Emily's watch never matched mine. If mine read fast, hers read slow. And vice versa. We did the best we could, but the miles kept ticking by faster than we hoped they would. 

Rob caught us during lap 2 on the pedestrian bridge

We found Jacqui again and this time I gave her a proper introduction to Emily, promising that she was who I needed to keep pace with today. 

Clearly mid-introduction

Emily and I held onto each other and chatted a little here and there. She was expecting to see her sister soon while I told her that Rob would pop up on course soon, coffee in hand.

Doin' what we love and lovin' what we do

The miles continued to tick by lap after lap. The inconsistency of our watches continued and we never thought to much about it. I yelled at her when we were going to fast "OMG 7:05 THIS ISN'T THE KENTUCKY DERBY!" and she'd laugh. And when my watch screamed 10 minute miles, she assured me that we were not in fact walking. 

To give you and idea of what we were dealing with, my splits obviously tell a story about where the course wasn't GPS friendly for me: 

1: 7:41 (excited for the start)

2: 7:44 (goal pace)

3: 7:32

4: 7:30 (dream pace)

5: 7:57

6: 7:44 (goal pace)

7: 7:33 

8: 7:51 (perfect, hang here for a while)

9: 7:55

10: 7:35 (UGGGGHHHH)

After the 2nd aid station on each lap, there was a significant incline that wasn't truly a hill, but a steady incline that may or may not have left it's mark on me after the 3rd or 4th lap. After the first 2 laps I didn't think much about it, but by the 3rd lap, I could tell that Emily recovered from that little section much quicker than I did. 

The lap that Emily introduced me to her dad and he responded with, "LEAVE HER IN THE DUST MEGAN!"

Just around lap 5 is when I started to feel a TINY bit tired. Nothing to write home about, but enough that I could tell fatigue was setting in. No big deal, the 2nd wind is a glorious thing and I'll certainly bounce back, right? 

We eventually evened ourselves out and met back with the 325 group

Wrong. Miles 11-15 went as follows: 7:51, :41, :53, :49, :37. And then mile 16 happened. I went from on top of the world, to and 8:18 mile. I remember so vividly, my watched clicked and I glanced and instantly muttered, oh shit. I knew I was feeling a tad tired, but an 8:18 was what I envisioned for the final 3 miles when your legs take on a whole separate form of functioning. By the time I wrapped up this lap I was close to mile 19. Rob knew I was hurting, and he made his way to the park entrance and ran along side of me for a short stretch. I told him I didn't know if I should keep going for a finish or pull the plug in an effort to attempt to race Illinois in 2 short weeks.  If you keep running, will you hurt yourself?, he asked. No, I told him. But I'm running out of available weekends to get this job done, I need to decide within the next mile. He pealed off course and just ahead was Karie. She knew something was up and put a hop to her step while I filled her in. If you decide to finish the race DO NOT run hard right now, save yourself for other opportunities. Wise woman she is. She made up my mind. 

Wishing Karie was about to run the last 7 miles with me

I didn't come here to quit. I didn't quite do what I wanted, but stepping off course was never something I've actually envisioned myself doing. I decided right then and there, I dialed the pace back A LOT, practically to a shuffle. I put one foot in front of the other. I found myself another finish line. The final miles, they weren't anything pretty at all. At one point the 3:30 pace group inched behind me and I caught a short 2nd wind. OK, maybe you can hang with them for the final miles. This is your last shot. My legs obeyed for about 45 seconds before they fell victim to the 9 minute mile again, and I then let them fall victim to an even slower pace. 

Final lap, mentally the most difficult.

You mind goes to some dark places during these types of events. People always ask me what's harder, the marathon or the Ironman? I always tell them the marathon. 100%. The Ironman is such a long day that you have so many opportunities to bounce back. The marathon can break you down physically and mentally faster than almost any distance triathlon. I thought of a lot during that last lap. I remembered how hard it was to finish my first marathon, 9 years ago. A college student with some guts that decided to take a chance. I remembered crossing that finish line in 5 hours and 27 minutes and thinking to myself, "there's no way I'll ever do that again."  I remembered how awesome it was to qualify for Boston at Grandma's only 10 months prior, almost 2 hours faster than my original marathon time. I remembered watching The 2018 Boston Marathon on TV and seeing Des Linden take home the title, in the pouring rain and nasty winds on the bitterest day. The underdog. The blue collar runner. She defied the naysayers and got the job done. She showed up. She kept showing up. When the going got tough and the wind forced her to sway down Boylston street, she got the job done. 

I showed up.

And I'll keep showing up until I get the job done.

I found the finish line 11 minutes after my qualifying time. I could make many excuses about why my day didn't go as planned. Analysis has been running through my mind for 7 days now. It'll never stop, if I'm being honest. Maybe I'll find the answers one day, maybe I won't. But I do know one thing, the day I do toe that line in Hopkinton I'll cry buckets. I'll hug every volunteer I encounter in Boston. I'll drink nothing but Dunkin' and 26.2 Brew and Sam Adams all weekend. I'll stop at the finish line to stand there and soak in the moment so I'll never forget. I'll pay respects to the bombing victims and their families. I'll be forever grateful for my chance to run the greatest marathon in the world. Because it'll be the hardest thing I've ever worked for in my life to date.

Last race as Megan Hode
Soon to be Mr & Mrs Sloan

Until then, I've got a wedding to plan 😉

You know this story isn't over. Stay tuned for Plan B. 

Cheers.

PS. I gave this race a much more formal review for Chicago Athlete Magazine. If you're interested in that, you can find it here!

19 Seconds.

I have referenced many times, the plans you make for yourself aren't always the plans that the good Lord has in store for us. 

Almost exactly a year ago, I decided I was going to devote 2018 to "Boston or Bust." I put my head down and gave my training every ounce of focus it required. Just after the New Year, Rob and I got engaged. When it came time to choose a wedding date, I immediately nixed the month of April. "I am not going to get married and possibly run The Boston Marathon in the same month. That's just too much." At this point, I hadn't qualified for Boston. But Rob understood, my mental game was on point. By literally planning one of the biggest events of our life around the POSSIBILITY of a race meant one thing, it was game on and nothing was going to stop me from toeing that line in Hopkinton. 

Until I received this email a few days ago:

About as crushing as it gets

I had done my part. I trained my ass off. I suffered through the mental breakdowns of marathon training. I damn near sacrificed my left hamstring in the process. I qualified for the race. With 4 minutes and 33 seconds to spare. But apparently my security blanket needed another 19 seconds.

No one could have predicted such a huge jump in the time qualification.  Last year, you needed to better your qualifying time by 3 minutes and 23 seconds. Add a minute and 29 seconds to that this year and you officially have 7,384 runners that were rejected from the 2019 Boston Marathon. Myself included.

It's been a roller coaster of emotions for me the last few days. Instantly I felt shock, anger, complete and utter disbelief. I made my phone calls and marched myself right back into work and put on my poker face. In the hours immediately following I felt almost petty for being so upset. Megan, there are SO many other more important things in life. A silly race shouldn't cause this much emotion. Get over it. And then 10 minutes later, Of course you deserve to be angry and upset. You worked your tail end off to be able add the term "Boston Qualifier" after your name. Go ahead, cry. Eat all the cards. Cry some more. That night I wallowed in my self pity and ate almost an entire pound of baked macaroni and cheese from Mariano's. I've had my eye on it for months now, and moments like this completely justified an indulgence. I needed comfort food.

I woke up on Friday morning and I honestly felt hungover, without a sip of alcohol the night before. My eyes were as puffy as I'd ever seen them. I had a pounding headache. I felt as though I hadn't truly slept. I wasn't normal peppy self walking into work. My boss noticed. My coworkers noticed. Hell, even the owner noticed and approached me, "Hey, you alright?" I thought I was ok, I just kept to myself and did my job and didn't really interact with anyone unless I needed to. Apparently that's everything I needed to do to reassure everyone that I really wasn't ok. I made a conscious effort after that to be more like "Megan."

So many people have reached out to me since Thursday evening. Phrases like "you deserve to be at that starting line" and "that's absolutely brutal" and "my heart aches for you" and "I've been in your exact position before" have been flying around. I can't thank everyone enough for their kind words. At times, running can feel like such a lonely sport, especially on the bad days. But after a situation like this, I'm assured that the running community is as tight nit as they come. Support runs deep and thick in our blood. Success isn't measured by speed or distance run. It's measured by the joy running brings, the passion runners hold in their hearts, and our complete disregard to accept failure as an option. The email I received on Thursday evening, some would consider this a failure. Me? I'm choosing to look at it as an opportunity to grow. I refuse to let myself be bitter about this situation. I'm going to allow it to make me get better. In the words or Kara Goucher, "Nothing has ever broken my heart the way running has. And yet, I can't breath without it."  The amount of truth behind this statement is unreal and completely defines this situation.

Not for a single second do I discredit the success I had at Grandma's Marathon in June after receiving that email from the B.A.A. on Thursday. Grandma's Marathon is easily the best race I've ever executed. I just hope I can remember every single detail I need to execute that type of race again, because this isn't over. Boston and I aren't done. Thoughts and ideas have already hit the drawing board to find a way to get me to Boston in 2020. And, the plan {hope} is that I won't be running Boston alone in 2020. My birthday twin, Lauren. has some unfinished business herself with the Boston Marathon. Lauren ran Boston in in 2016. Well, she started the race. She knew she wouldn't be able to finish due to an outstanding injury but she wanted to be apart of the experience. She promised her boyfriend (now fiance) that she'd see him at the finish line. She soaked up 7 miles of the Boston Marathon, stepped off course, and was driven to the finish line so she could welcome Matt to Boston. Between the 2 of us, we have a serious fire lit. 

Pre-race miles in Lake Placid, NY circa 2016

We know, plans can change. Curveballs happen. At this point, rollin' with the punches is my middle name. But this is where I stand. This is what I have my sights set on. And if you thought I was motivated before, hell you ain't see nothin' yet.

Grandma's Marathon: Boston Bound

I have sat and thought about how I'd begin to write this blog. And still.. I'm drawing a blank. Call it writers block, a loss of words, whatever you will. But I'm pretty sure the reason I can't seem to find my keystrokes is because I still can't believe it actually happened.

That's not to say that I didn't have high hopes. Because I certainly did. That's not to say that I didn't KNOW that I could do it. Because I've known for years that this would happen one day. That's not to say I didn't have the faith. Because the good Lord knows we had many conversations regarding running over the last few months. I'm just a realist. My running body isn't young anymore. My left hamstring has never felt fully 100% over the last few months. I know exactly when my body will begin to break down during those 26.2 miles. And I have yet to find a way over that dreaded 20 mile wall. I guess I'll just put it this way. I had more faith in myself than anyone. But I was also just as prepared for this race to not go as I had planned.

Spoiler Alert: It did happen.
And the beginning of mile 19 was one of my stronger moments of the entire race

I woke up on Saturday morning and I couldn't believe how soundly I had slept. I barely heard Rob sneak in and out of the room. My night shifter can't exactly flip his schedule completely so he took a little late night drive on the course while I got my beauty sleep. I made my way to the 4am breakfast that my hotel was serving and I certainly wasn't alone. The room was full of runners, all eyes fixated on the TV screen. The local weather station. The storms that were predicted from the 5am-10am hour had slowed course, now entering the Duluth area mid-afternoon. The high temps would hover around 55 degrees with a low hanging fog. Did I hear that right? The weather was ACTUALLY in my benefit? I even heard rumor that there would likely be a tailwind. You gotta be shittin' me smalls.

5:15am. No rain. Whaaaaaaat?

I got ready pretty quickly since I had everything laid out the night before. Rob might have been lucky to get a few hours of sleep and when I waltzed into the room at 4:45am and flipped the lights on he immediately covered his eyes. "You said we didn't have to leave til 5:30, wake me at 5:29" he said. What actually happened was this: we pulled out of the parking lot at 5:15am so Rob could drop me off at the busses because he know I wouldn't be able to actually wait until 5:30am.

We pulled into the mall and could see all the half marathoners getting onto their busses. That's how early we were. Rob finally kicked me out of the car. I don't know why, but it was hard for me to leave him. I knew that once I did, everything was real. The next time I'd see him would be on course. Mid-race. And that seriously scared the shit out of me. 

The day before, just a few blocks from the downtown/finish line area

I love his love for architecture and boats and bridges
#kidinacandystore

I gave him my kiss goodbye and went to stand in line. I got on the bus and almost immediately I was greeted by an older lady who sat next to me for the 26.2 mile journey from Duluth to Two Harbors. I never caught her name. But she was not a newbie to this sport, Grandma's was her 25th marathon. She rambled on and on. I listened, nodded, and giggled when appropriate. But I couldn't help but stare out of the school bus window, because the sun was actually shining.

Once I got off the bus I started my game of, "how many times can I go to the bathroom before the race starts?" I was all alone, no phone, and had over an hour to kill. I immediately jumped into the porta potty line and made my first peeps. I then went to the medical tent and snagged a couple of tylenol in an effort to be proactive with the pain that was coming my way. Then, I stood in the porta potty line again, because what else do I do? 2nd potty successful. After that I found some open ground and sat down to stretch. Of course it wasn't long before someone noticed my jacket and asked if me I knew Ryan. I met new faces, mingled, and made my way back to the porta potty line for my final bathroom break before I dropped off my gear check bag. I pealed my sweats and was greeted with a nice little chill. I made my way to the start and could feel the wind at my back. Seriously Megan, if you waste this opportunity you'll never forgive yourself. I knew before the gun went off. Today was my day.

THE PLAY BY PLAY

Mile 1 - 7:43  The gun went off and it was a lot more crowded that I anticipated. I started right behind the 3:25 pace group and was still shuffling my way through the first quarter mile. It didn't take long though.. the road opened up and I was feeling mighty fine. Fine enough that I had to pull in the reins immediately. I'm really good at taking off to fast at the beginning of the race. I know it. Ryan knows it. And he even gave me permission to "bank" some time in the beginning. Not to much, but he knew it was a losing battle to ask me to run anything under an 8 minute mile. I don't think he expected the first 20 miles to all be under 8 minutes. {Spoiler Alert}.

Mile 2 - 7:51 I had to WORK to make sure this mile wasn't in the 7:40's. I barely scraped by with a 7:51. I didn't want to burn to many matches in the early miles of this race. I kept repeating my early mile mantra in my head: "If it feels to easy at that fast pace, slow down." 

Mile 3 - 7:51  Consistency can also be hard to come by. Yes, it was still SO early but I liked what I was seeing right now. I like these miles. Let's hang out here as long as possible. Mile 3 is also when I met my new friend Emma. Long and short of her story: she had the same exact goal I did. BQ with a 3:30 or under in order to secure our spot. "Hey, my name is Megan... we should try and hang out together as long as we can." This was my plea to the nice 21 year old stranger I was about to cling to for as long as possible. She had no arguments. YES.

Mile 4 - 7:50  I had a feeling I was going to be in trouble if I kept these kinds of miles up. I can pace myself... but I've never been successful at it over such a long distance. I had the angel on my left, Megan, you should really tuck down into the 8:00 range. It's safer. But the devil on my right, Take it and roll with it girl. Chances like this don't happen every day.

Mile 5 - 7:46  Have we been going downhill this ENTIRE time? I swear, I'm not doing ANY work. Also, fog. Like serious fog. We were running within feet of the Lake Superior and couldn't see ANY water at all. Finally, if I keep up this pace I'm sure Ryan will text Rob and tell him to make me slow down. Speedy is gonna yell at you, especially if this race comes back to bite you in the ass. 

This was during the most visible portion of the race

Mile 6 - 7:50  "Emma, are  we really at mile 6 already? How did the first 6 mile FLY by?" She agreed, the miles were ticking by like crazy. Also, I think I took my first gel around mile 6. I don't remember needing it. But I wasn't about to screw up the cardinal rule today: Fuel early and often. 

Mile 7 - 7:51 ROB SPOTTING! I knew I'd see him sooner or later, but it's always a surprise. I couldn't contain myself. 

My friend Emma in the orange hat
Me
Another lady we befriend for about 4 miles before she decided we were to slow for her 🙄

I mean, we're having like ZERO fun obviously 💙💛

Mile 8 - 7:51  The consistency is seriously CRAZY to me. I'm not questioning it though. Just go with it.

Mile 9 - 7:57  Speedy warned me about a "hill" around mile 8. I wasn't sure exactly where it would fall. I thought was going to be around 7.something. Turns out it was around 8.something and it was barely anything. But I made sure to slow my roll going up to make sure to conserve all energy.

Mile 10 - 7:46  Seriously? How am I still (not only) sub 8 but THIS far under 8? Nothing is falling apart yet. My hamstring is still in tact. Emma and I keep taking turns dodging people as we make our passes. We separate but also find our way back to each other. Overall, I did more talking than she did throughout the race. But there was a decent amount of time where we fed off of each other's body language. We knew when to speed up, when to slow down, when to make the pass. It was the weirdest thing. Perfect strangers, in perfect sync. 

Mile 11 - 7:53 Another forewarned "hill" that wasn't truly a hill. But a little later in the race it was noticed a touch more. 

Mile 12 - 7:55 Consistency on point still. Another gel into the gut. Gel miles are always a tad slower for me. I'm still good at choking on water at aide stations. 12 marathons and 6 Ironmans under my belt and every once in a while I take a solid amount of water up the nose or down the wind pipe unsolicited. ::facepalm:: Also, for the record, I'm almost positive I've been running downhill this ENTIRE race. 

Mile 13 - 7:53 Emma and I still hanging onto each other through the halfway point (1:42 and change). I noticed that every once in a while she would fall a half stride behind me. This perfect stranger had me seriously cheering for her. She told me that her last marathon was also a BQ (3:33) but she was unable to register for the race because there were that many FASTER qualifying times than hers. Come on girl we're not playing that game today.

Mile 14 - 7:49 I could tell Emma was possibly going to fall back. I couldn't sacrifice my good day for her but I wanted to make sure she knew exactly where she stood. "Emma, if you happen to have a bad mile, just know that we have 2.5 minutes in the bank. Any mile over 8 minutes, subtract from your bank."

Mile 15 - 7:50 Emma fell back every so slightly. Literally, I could turn barely turn my head to the left and see her a stride or 2 behind me the entire mile. I SO hoped this wouldn't be the last time I saw her. I made sure to stay focused and not lose my rhythm just because I lost my pacer. I got into such a groove that I almost missed Rob.

Oblivious to how close I am to Rob

A runners paradise 😍

Mile 16 - 7:50  I never expected my body to hold out this long. At all. I knew for a fact that any mile moving forward that I could log under 8 minutes was HUGE. Looking ahead of me I could tell my downhills were coming to an end. I wasn't about to start climbing. But when you've been cruising for 16 miles downhill and all of a sudden you're expected to run on FLAT ground it can start to zap the energy.

Mile 17 - 7:56 At this point I'm so used to running damn near the 7:40's that for a split second I was actually MAD with this "slow" mile. HA! Megan, have you forgotten that you still have 9 mile sto go? Take it girl. 

Mile 18 - 7:58 Another mile that seemed like an uphill but was truly just flat in comparison to rest of the miles. Fatigue started to set in. I fully expected my "wall" to hit from this point moving forward with ANY step that I took. Because if you've ever run a marathon you know how quickly that wall can face plant you. One step you're on top of the world and the next you're makin' deals with the devil himself.

Mile 19 - 7:50  WHAT. Where did this come from? I seemed to have gotten a 2nd wind. I spotted Rob on the side of the road and all I could muster was, "I'm still under!" He knew what I meant. He didn't dare say anything in response because he knows just as well as I do how badly the last 10K of a marathon separate the boys from the men. Instead, he proceeded to get on his bike and cruise next to me for a few minutes asking me all sorts of questions I couldn't answer. "Did you see the chef that's beating you? Yea, a guy dressed like a chef carrying a huge pot is beating you." Thanks honey.

Running on top of the world at mile 19 

Apparently this guy was not far ahead of me and I had no idea.

Mile 20 - 8:03 I knew my sub 8 minute mile streak wasn't going to last forever. I just can't believe it lasted damn near TWENTY MILES. Alright Megan. Head down. Eyes forward. Open heart. These last 6 miles are what you trained for. 

Mile 21 - 8:11 I was definitely having to work for my miles at this point. But I had only given up 14 seconds OVER an 8:00 mile and was still WELL below an 8:00 minute average. This is what your bank is for, but ONLY IF YOU NEED IT. Keep your stride long, shoulders relaxed.

Mile 22 - 8:26 Sub 8:30. You're doing just fine, keep it right here and you're golden. Nothing to worry about. Legs weren't feeling the best at this point, but I couldn't believe how much BETTER they felt compared to this point of past marathons. I knew I had a significant "hill" coming up so I did everything I could to keep my bank as full as possible in case I needed to cash it in on Lemon Drop.

Mile 23 - 8:33 Lemon Drop Hill. Not truly a hill, but a bridge you have to cross. But at mile 23 of a marathon anything can be considered a monster hill, curbs included. I made it to the top, gathered myself, and was able to bring my mile time back to where I wanted it without draining my bank, and I didn't feel like I had nothing left.

Mile 24 - 8:31 This was EXACTLY what I knew I had to train myself for. And not just my legs, but mostly my mind. I've been here ELEVEN times before. EVERYTHING inside is telling me to stop. Slow down. Walk it out. Stretch out your hamstring. But I was damned if that devil was gonna win. I thought about 2 months ago. I went to my parents house after work and watched the Boston Marathon with my mom. I watched Desi fight for every step in the worst weather I've ever seen. I watched all the age groupers muscle through with everything that they are. I sat and cried as the first American women took home the Boston Marathon title in 33 years. I remembered how emotional I was that day. And I wanted NOTHING more than to run that course with the Greats of our sport. I wanted to run in the Superbowl of running. 

Mile 25 - 8:17   HUGE mile. Just after my watched beeped at mile 24, I needed to turn the last few miles around. Thankfully, I had a little help. I heard a faint voice behind me on my left, "Hey, I'm back!" EMMA! YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME! I squealed like a school girl. I may have leaped in the air, I was SO excited to have my buddy back. "Emma, we're gonna do it!"  She smiled and laughed. Within a quarter mile of Emma finding me again, I heard my name from behind. "Megan! Kati's friend!" A girl I had met at the Illinois Half Marathon, Kim, who recognized me solely by the logo on my jersey knew who I was and introduced herself. We quickly found out that we were both running Grandma's in attempt to BQ. Mile 24.5 of Grandma's Marathon was the next time I saw her. "OMG KIM! WE'RE GOING!!" I yelled back at her. I couldn't believe it. And just like that, I brought my head up and spotted Rob. I couldn't stop smiling. I was going to Boston and I fuckin' knew it. 

The EXACT second I spotted Rob at around 24.6ish
Notice Emma is back! ORANGE HAT! 

I couldn't get to him fast enough. He was on the other side of the street and I did my best to make my way as close to him as I could. I was almost 25 miles into this marathon and I had damn near solidified my day. I had no reservations with more emotions pouring out of my heart than you can truly imagine. I ran past Rob and belted as loud as I could, "PACK YOUR BAGS BITCH WE'RE GOING!" Without meaning to I created quite the scene and made a lot of spectators bust out laughing. I didn't care, my dream was actively coming true. I was living the moment, I knew it, and I was busting with all the joy. Rob responded with the biggest laugh and yelled back, "You're gonna beat me to the finish line!!" Damn right I am.

This is what we call...

PRICELESS

PACK YOUR BAGS BITCH WE'RE GOING!

Mile 26 - 8:25 Crowds were thick. My legs felt like they weren't attached. Someone else was moving them, surely not me. One lady was in the middle of the street pointing out all women and getting in their faces. She made her way to me, "You, YOU'RE GOING TO BOSTON!" She told me. I wanted to kiss this woman. Truly I did. But I still had a few strides to go. 

FINISH 3:30:27 I did it. Rob truly almost missed me at the finish line. I played this moment out in my head a million times. I was convinced I'd ugly cry. But no, I smiled and spotted Kim, hands on her knees, panting. I let her know I was close and we embraced in the grossest hug 2 strangers could share. 

Captured on film by Grandma's marathon
Screenshotted by a friend of Kim's
BOSTON BOUND

I glanced to my right and saw my Spectathlete. I trotted (yes, trotted) to him and made him kiss me in all my sweaty salty glory. Finding my way out of the finish area I spotted Emma and flagged her down. I congratulated her, thanked her, and wished her well. Talk about one of the coolest stories. This, this is what running is capable of. 

See you in Boston 🦄

Thank you's for this one will certainly get me choked up and are quite obvious, at least to me.

My family. My parents. My brother. As kids, Mark and I were never given limits. Sky's the limit. The older we got, the more mad our goals sounded to our parents. We definitely received a few funny looks. But at the end of the day, we always had 2 permanent cheerleaders. And they are certainly the number one reason I ever dreamed of chasing that unicorn in the first place. And Mark has NEVER thought twice about setting an early Sunday morning alarm to shuffle around a race course when I ask him. He's always willing to pace me on the bike when I ask. He's truly my sidekick that I can't live without. 

As promised, every run is an adventure with my pacer

Rob. My Fiance. My forever Spectathlete. He's about to marry into this mess. He may never truly understand my passion on the deepest level, and may he does. But he's definitely accepted it and knows that it's a package deal. And I can't thank him enough for loving me for who I am, running/triathlete included. We aren't an easy bunch to handle, and he's taken it like a champ over these last 8 and a half years. Next April I'm going to run the Boston Marathon as a Hode and the following month I'm going to marry into the Sloan family ready to continue the fun.

💙💛💕

Ryan. I probably sound like a broken record at this point but I can't help it. He gave me full disclosure that my training cycle for Grandma's wouldn't be pretty. It wasn't until around April that I truly understood what he meant. Sure, the legs underwent a little speed and some discomfort. But this time around it was all about the mind. I can't tell you how many times Ryan had to dig me out of a mental hole. I can't tell you how many times I dug myself out of a hole because I was to embarrassed to let Ryan think I was that weak. Ryan Giuliano. Resume includes but not limited to: Ironman 70.3 World Champion. Ironman Texas and Ironman Lake Placid Champion. Sub 9 hour Ironman stud. Clinical Therapist. #truth

No questions asked. RyBread For Life

I still haven't found the proper words for all of my emotions almost a week after the race. The obvious is true. Happy, joyful, excited, and beyond. But the deepest of feelings.. Do words exist for those? Sometimes I wonder. I get choked up thinking about next April. For YEARS I was the runner who just needed to move. Times were never important. And then at some point my fire was sparked and here I am. Sometimes it's hard for me to comprehend. Wait.. Boston? Didn't you just run a 4:30 marathon a few months ago? No, no Megan. You're shipping out to Boston.

I've challenged myself over the years. I've dedicated my life to this sport and truly don't know what it's like to not have half of my dresser taken over by spandex running shorts and athletic apparel. I'm living, breathing proof that you don't have to have ALL the talent to chase your dreams that seem untouchable. Saturday's marathon shaved 1 hour and 57 minutes off of my first ever marathon. Nothin' but good ole hard word, dedication, passion, and a fire in my heart got me to Boston. If you want it, go get it.

#bostonhereicome

Grandma's Here I Come: By the Numbers

I’m not really a huge numbers person. I’m good with them, but not like some people I know. But I’ve recently looked at the numbers that are about to get me to starting line tomorrow.

_____________________________________________

169 days. I signed up for Grandma’s Marathon days ago. (December 28^th, 2017 was D-Day. My Christmas present to myself.)

757 miles. I’ve run 757 miles in 2018 in preparation for this race.

106 hours. I have logged 106 hours of running.

128 runs. I have run 128 times (within the last 166 days of 2018). You’re probably wondering… that’s not A LOT of runs. You’re right. That’s because I refused to let my body completely fall apart in it’s old age by taking away my beloved cross training that I have adopted over the years.

35. The average number of run miles I logged per week. Not a lot. At all. We were all about quality over quantity.

67 rides. I have ridden my bike 67 times since January 1^st. A good chunk of these have been “recovery rides” while others still test my triathlon fitness. (Just to keep the all systems a go at all times.)

88 hours. That’s 88 hours of bike riding. 88 hours I’ve chosen to take away from the run and devote to a separate set of leg muscles in hopes it will keep my run legs primed.

1,476 miles ridden. This number can’t be taken to heart. 99% of my bikes have been indoor on a computrainer. And we all know that power is what everyone cares about 😉

62 swims. I dipped my toes into the water 62 times in 2018. In all honesty looking back, I should have swam more. The pool is SUCH my zen place these days. When muscles hurt. When joints ache. When my legs say WTF. There weren’t TO many lung busters in preparation for Grandma’s, but occasionally Speedy would give me a workout to test the fitness. Spoiler alert: I can still crack a sub 1:25 100 (on repeat) if needed.

33 hours. 33 hours of swim therapy. And I wish I would have give a few more hours.

125,800 yards. Of swimming. That number probably shocks most people. But it’s really not a ton. It’s approximately 5K a week. For you hard core runners, yes a 5K on the road is the same distance on the road as it is in the pool.

12. This will be my 12^th open marathon.

11. The previous 11 marathons, starting with number 1…. Illinois Marathon 2010. Walt Disney Marathon 2011. Illinois Marathon 2011. Chicago Marathon 2011. Omaha Marathon 2012. CIM 2012. Wisconsin Marathon 2013. Nashville Hard Rock Café Marathon 2013. Big Sur International Marathon 2014. Marathon of the Treasure Coast, Jensen Beach, FL 2015. Indianapolis Monumental Marathon 2016. (2017 was pretty triathlon heavy, 2x Ironman, 3x half Ironman. By the time October rolled around my legs pretty much were screaming FU.)

17. The number of times I’ve run this distance. 11 open marathon distances + 6 full Iron distances (the run has never been cut short, only swim and bike occasionally). Soon to be 18.

5. I averaged 5 runs a week since January 1^st.

3. I averaged both 3 rides and 3 swims a week since January 1^st.

6.5 hours. The total number of hours GPS predicted it would take us to drive from Crystal Lake, IL to Duluth, MN.

7 hours. It actually took us 7 hours to get here with  our few stops we made for gas and food. Rob's still upset it took us longer than the GPS prediction. 

2. Rob ate 2 Subway sandwiches for dinner on Thursday night on the drive up to Duluth. No, he’s not running. No he’s not trying to gain weight. That’s just his M-O. Tall skinny dude who can eat whatever he wants.

26.2 miles. The number of miles I have to run tomorrow.

5:27:11. That was my first finish time in the 26.2 mile distance. It was a hot hot day. The humidity was out for blood. But a year prior one of my friends had told me, "There's no way you can run a marathon." so I wasn't about toss the in the towel just because it was hot.

3 hours and 35 minutes. The time I have to run to qualify for the Boston Marathon.

8:12. The pace per mile I have to run for 26.2 miles to qualify for the Boston Marathon.

3 hours and 30 minutes. My goal finish time to solidify entry into the Boston Marathon.

8:00. The pace per mile I need to run to solidify entry into the Boston Marathon.

3:41:17. That is my current marathon PR that I set in 2016 at the Indianapolis Monumental Marathon. 

8:26. The fastest pace mile that I have ever run 26.2 miles.

6 minutes. The number of minutes I need to shave off my current PR to qualify for the Boston Marathon.

11 minutes. The number of minutes I HOPE to shave off my current marathon PR in order to solidify my BQ.

January 10^th, 2018. The day my spectathlete became my fiancé. My ride or die promised that he was 100% into this crazy life I’ve chosen.

April 15^th, 2019. Not just tax day. The day I’m hopeful I’ll be taking my own tour of Massachusetts, starting in Hopkinton and ending on Boylston Street in Boston.

1 mental breakdown. Ryan endured 1 mental breakdown over the phone at the end of the April after I had finished the Illinois Half Marathon. I was convinced I wasn’t the right kind of athlete for the job. I was in the darkest of athletic dungeons.  Most people don’t realize it, but being a coach also means you’re practically a licensed therapist as well. Ryan put together a really really convincing story about how much I deserve to give myself the faith that everyone else has in me. He made me believe what I do day in and day out is worth it. He convinced me that it wasn’t time to toss in the towel on Grandma’s.

1 extra mental breakdown, just for good measure. Shortly after my little therapy session with Ryan (like 5 minutes after) I was caught in the kitchen of my best friend’s house, wiping my tears and checking how blotchy my face looked. She caught me in the middle of a breakdown that I was trying to hide from her and all of our college friends. “Megan! I heard you... please, are you ok!?” Cue the next breakdown. There’s a reason I try to hide this stuff from her sometimes. She’s good. Almost too good. She knows me all too well. And the waterworks continued to flow in overdrive in her kitchen. Maybe she never told the rest of the group about it, maybe she did. I’m not sure. But all I know is that I needed that good cry. I needed her to understand how much this stuff means to me. She’s always had an idea, but that day she was certainly reminded.

1 sleep. 1 more sleep until none of the numbers matter and all I have left to do is run every stride with my heart.

BQ or bust.

#grandmashereicome

B Words

This time of year you're going to see a lot of blogs and posts on all types of social media stating things like "This is my year! I'm going to be a totally different person!" "I'm going to lose those 50 lbs I've always said I would!" "I'm going to be better with my money this year!" It's great, I love to see everyone with so many resolutions. What I don't like, is watching people fall off the wagon.

I don't like to think of myself as a resolutioner. I like to think of myself as goal-oriented. I believe there is a difference, resolutions gearing more towards a lifestyle change while goals can be as simple as learning to ride a bike. Goals, if set properly and realistically, can lead to a lifestyle change.

The older I get, the more I live for the small wins in life 

I entered 2017 with some big goals for my Ironman performance. I laid them out for you in the beginning of the year, and then you watched me literally fall apart during Ironman Texas in April.  It was a hard pill to swallow, watching all of my hard work over the winter literally go down the drain. But we all know that the Ironman world is SO much a game of chance. You can follow the strictest of diets. You can recover like a champ and nail workout after workout, but if the wind isn't blowing your direction on race day that's the way the cookie crumbles. What I never expected after Texas was to formulate a brand new shiny goal {Qualifying for the 70.3 World Championships} a month later. And when I snagged that last qualifying slot of the day at IM 70.3 Wisconsin a month after that, you can definitely say my world was flipped upside down. It just so happened my cookie crumbled in a direction I never expected. 

Clearly 2017 took me in a direction I never could foresee. When it comes to racing and training, there are a few key items I like to follow in order to help with success, regardless of which direction it takes you. Here are the key lessons I learned in 2017 and will carry with me in the future.

1. Reflection is KEY

Looking back on racing and training and taking the time to lay out what went wrong, what can be tweaked, areas that can be improved on. This is something I've learned over the years. I wish I would have started blogging years ago, because the more I do the more I learn from it. Writing down my thoughts post-race and re-reading them in the weeks, months, and years after the fact has given me more than I ever imagined it would. {Caveat, I had to be coerced into starting this blog by a few people. I dreaded it in the beginning, I won't lie. Now, I can't imagine where I'd be without my keystrokes.} Now, this doesn't mean that EVERYTHING gets published for the whole world to see. I have plenty of drafts that will likely never see the World Wide Web.

Sometimes the week after a big race is almost as stressful as the week before the race for me. I've usually just gotten home some exotic location (ha!), have a mound of laundry, sleep to catch up on, and food to prepare for the week. And usually the first thing I do when I get home from work every night is grab my computer and start typing. The longer I wait, the sooner it slips away forever. No, I don't have kids to tend to so I understand this is a huge luxury a lot of people don't have. But even if you have to create a note in your phone while the kids are doing their homework to jot down some thoughts, it's well worth it. 


2. Stay in the moment 

Racing an Ironman, a Half Ironman, or a Marathon are all very long events. If you're having a bad day, it can be so easy to let your mind take over. Thoughts like "I'm never going to get off this bike!" or "I have to run another 20 miles!?" can easily be game changers. Letting yourself focus on what's ahead is never going to get you in the right headspace. Never wish yourself out of the water. Never start praying to ditch your bike at mile 70 {because at mile 6 of the run you're gonna wish you had it back}. Never EVER wish you could be at that finish line as you finish loop 1 of the run.

Why? First and foremost.. obsessing over what you have left ahead of you can be extremely daunting. Taking the rest of your uncomfortable ride 5 miles at a time is much easier on the mind. "Sure, I can ride 5 more miles." The next thing you know, you're lacing up your running shoes.  But for me, I'll never wish away a race. I can't think of anything else that brings such a high as racing. The hours before the gun goes off. The smell of the open water. The extremely little patience I have with my spectators pre-race because their pace isn't mine and I need to be in transition like 30 seconds ago to check on Matilda. The rush of diving into the water with how many strangers around you, all fighting for the same position. The monotony of the bike, which also has the power to make you feel most alive throughout the entire race. The pain of the run, the part of the race that truly separates the men from the boys. The hysteria of the finish line, and the emotion that immediately follows, sometimes for days at a time.

This is why I'll never ever leave the moment I'm in on that race course. 

One of the biggest differences between a Pro athlete and an Age Group athlete (I believe) is how they race. Pro's are extremely methodical with their races. Every aspect of the day is analyzed, dissected, and meticulously thought/planned out to the best of their abilities. But Megan... I plan out my races too! You're right, we do. Us Average Joe's obsess quite a bit over the little things. But at the end of the day, we're raw and race with our hearts.  

3. Flexibility

Half of the racing and training battle is learning to train the mind. Many (if not all) of the people I've met in this sport are extreme type A personalities. We have schedules for everything and once a wrench hits the blueprints, all hell can break loose in our minds.

Did you oversleep and miss your morning workout? Consider it a sign your body needed the extra rest, preparing you to comeback strong for your next workout. 

Did you have to stay late at work and now you don't have time to cook that healthy dinner you know you need? That's why God made these things called restaurants, giving us umpteen choices to choose from. Make the right choice and your takeout meal can be just as healthy as homemade.

Laundry piling up? Sink full of dishes? A layer of dust on everything? But you need to sit on the trainer for 3+ on a Sunday, right? Time management is key. Load that dishwasher before you ride, start the laundry ASAP and it gets done when it's done. And that dust? Clorox wipes. I'm tellin' ya, they're magic.

I'm sure I'm telling you nothing you don't already know on the flexibility front, but sometimes it does us all good to hear it again. We all need a little reminder once in a while. It is what it is. Let it be and move on, always looking forward. I had some serious curve balls thrown my way last year, and I always had a choice. Let it get to me, or deal with it as is and move forward.

So Megan, now what?

So if you've been reading along, you know I've been hinting at my racing future for the past few months. Sitting at awards in Chattanooga in September (the 2nd trip, the full Ironman) I sat at that table and had myself a little meltdown. Kati consoled me while Ryan walked up to the table at just the right moment, witnessing it all. I knew my 2017 a season was something most would love to have, but I couldn't help but wonder, where would I be right now if my run were in better shape? I spent SO much time over the past year trying to get my bike and swim up to speed, and I sure did. My run didn't suffer necessarily, it just didn't improve. 

So that's why I'm about to go through more running shoes during 2018 than ever before.

I need to run faster. I need to be more consistent. I need to learn to take my mind and my legs somewhere they've never been on the run. And that's why I'm devoting 2018 to the art of running. I'm already signed up for a few smaller races, and of course, my "A" race of the year. And this year, I couldn't be happier to say that I'm taking Nuun with me. As an ambassador for Nuun for the 2018 racing season, I can safely say I'm extremely grateful that I have the ability to stay hydrated all season long with my favorite electrolyte replacement. If you're interested you can find more information about Nuun here. 

Megan stop being so vague, where are you racing this year and what are your big goals!?

Ahh right. Minor details. The big show of the year happens in June this year. I'm rallying the troops and heading north, damn near the Illinois/Canada border to Duluth, Minnesota. The ever so popular Grandma's Marathon that resides in Duluth, Minnesota. 

And if you're any sort of runner that has looked into these "destination races" you know the main reason people go as far north as Duluth, Minnesota to run a marathon.... 

BOSTON OR BUST

Yep, you read that right. I was in Boston in 2012 to watch my girl, Kait (whom you've met before) run the Boston Marathon on a sweltering hot day. But the next time I go, I want to be the one running that race. Go big or go home, right? I have 6 minutes to shave off my marathon time, and more if I want to guarantee entry (which I do, obviously). It ain't gonna be easy, but I'm up for the challenge. But like all things in life, I won't get there alone. So I want to ask a small favor from everyone. 

If you see me on the streets while I'm running and I appear to be struggling, roll your window down and remind me to get my head out of my ass because Bean Town is calling my name. Seriously, I'm in for a world of hurt this winter, so I'm gonna need all the help I can get. But I honestly can't wait. 

2018 here we go.