This weekend I toed the line at the JFK50, one of the most prestigious and historical 50 mile races in the nation; if I finished it, it would be my first 50 miler. The race occurs between my current town of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and my hometown of Potomac, Maryland and was originally designed by President Kennedy as a test of physical fitness for his military officers.

Pre Race

The days leading up to the race were awesome. My work load was low, I ate carbs like it was my job and received so much outreach and words of encouragement from my friends. One of my most supportive friends was my best friend and neighbor, Ben, who was kind enough to crew for me. Ben and I got a late start hitting the road, and had a great drive with the exception of when the GPS said “turn left in 49 miles.” I seriously almost threw up knowing we were almost an hour from our destination and I was planning to run that far in roughly 12 hours. I am proof that smart people do dumb things.

Lucas, another runner from Pittsburgh who was also running JFK, was kind enough to get my packet for me since we were late. Because he and his dad, Lou (you may remember them from Annie’s Run), are staying at the same hotel as me and Ben we all got together to swap packets, electrolyte pills and talk about the game plan for the next day before going to bed.

My bib.I'm really doing this.

Race Day

Me and Lucas before heading to the start

Lou and Lucas follow me and Ben to the start where there is a prerace meeting. The prerace meeting didn’t end in time to give most runners enough time to get to the start and I had only just said goodbye to Ben and Lou (Lucas had split off earlier) as the gun went off. We begin to run and on the sideline I see someone I recognize but can’t place. He yells my name and I immediately realize it’s my friend Ron, who I know through the Marine Corps marathon. It is so nice to see a friendly and unexpected face.

Ron caught this picture of me at the start.I'm the only one turned around

During the pre-race meeting they said something about “When you go up the mountain, stay to the right.” Did he just say “When you go up the mountain?” Seriously, why do I do this to myself? Before we get to the mountain, I see Ray, the marathoner who carried the American flag during the MCM on the sidelines waving our flag. It makes me proud and I thank him.

You guys remember Ray from MCM

The Mountain and the AT

The first three miles are effectively climbs that are unrunnable for people in my part of the pack if they want to save their legs. It’s a little frustrating to be walking the first part of the race, but I know I need to play it smart and I befriended some really nice people while we hike the hills.

A short, steep hill. Most were pretty long

We get onto the Appalachian Trail (AT) and I quickly tuck behind two girls who have the same speed and technical skill as I do on the trails. Their chatter keeps me entertained and I’m so glad I found them. Unfortunately, I lose them at the mile 9 aid station.

Getting back on the trail after the aid station

As I moved forward on the second section of the AT I got behind Jim and Dave who were not only fantastically interesting, but were incredible athletes. Dave had finished 10 JFKs and Jim was an Ironman; they worked together for years, and didn’t realize they were both running until they saw each other at the pasta dinner on Friday night. They talked about flying planes (something on my bucket list) and were going at roughly my pace so I stuck with them until mile 15.5 where we make the transition from the AT to the towpath. The AT was definitely my favorite part of the race.

Jim and Dave going down the switchbaks on the tail end of the AT. Still not as technical as Laurel.

At mile 15.5 I met up with Ben and Lou to switch from trail shoes to road shoes. What I’m not sure I’ve made clear is that Ben is brilliant. An Ivy League grad, an M.D./Ph.D. candidate, if I had to trust my life to anyone’s brain, it would be Ben’s. Knowing Ben’s brilliance, I shouldn’t have been surprised that after I explained to Ben that I’d need to switch my shoes and my chip that he would be ready for me. He had me sit in a chair, clipped my chip from one shoe and put it on the other while I changed my socks, and then, while I was putting on my shoes, he put my long-sleeve shirt on the exterior of my pack with an arm sleeve sticking out in case I wanted to reach it to pull it out later without taking off my pack. His efficiency was artful. If I would have trained Ben on how to be the best support person EVER, I couldn’t have trained him that well. He was totally the MVS (most valuable spectator). With some quick hugs for Ben and Lou, I head onto the C&O towpath part of the course, where we will run for 26.3 miles.

The Towpath

View from the towpath

I hate the towpath. People spread out so I don’t have entertainment. The path is pretty but boring. There are tons of decaying leaves and tiny pebbles which makes gaiters much more necessary here than on the AT. My legs feel good and I run for a few miles, not focusing on how far I’ve run and still have to go, but instead focusing on getting to the next aid station. Every JFK vet I’ve spoken with has told me they use a run/walk on the towpath so if for no reason other than boredom I start doing a 5:1 run:walk. Some vets run by, tell me I look great and that I have the right approach, but I’m so bored. As I come into the mile 27 aid station, I have no idea what happened, but I fell apart. Out of nowhere I felt like I wanted to cry. Again, out of nowhere, and even while keeping a good clip, I felt like I was never going to finish the race. It was so overwhelming and I walked a little to regain my composure. I kept moving forward, losing my mind because a terrible pop song was stuck in my head. It’s as though my brain, in retaliation for making it work so hard all the time, was punishing me.

As a therapist, seeing all the runners who were willing to run JFK made me confident I'll always have clients- you've gotta be crazy to run 50 miles!

At the mile 30 aid station I was bummed to see the next aid station was 4.4 miles. Not far, but I was at the point where it was getting tough to keep my head in the game. At some point I took my inhaler, which made things better, and with roughly a mile left to go (my Garmin was off by about a half mile at this point) I found a desperately need porta potty. Once I step out of the porta potty, the scene on the trail had changed entirely: instead of people running slowly or walking, people looked like they were being chased. I hadn’t seen people run that fast all day. I was totally confused but started running with them. In a stroke of brilliance that would literally save my race, Toby had suggested that I make a pace chart with goal paces and cutoffs, laminate it and keep it with me.

The pace chart.

I pulled out my pace chart and realized I had roughly one mile to cover in 12 minutes to make the next cutoff. I don’t know how I missed that there was a cutoff so close. I had been running roughly 12 minute miles but I’m not sure how far off my watch is from the race clock (I knew it was roughly a minute, but I was going to be down to seconds, here). As I run as hard as I can, I start getting so angry with myself. It was such a stupid mistake to not be thinking about the next cutoff- I had been thinking forward to 6 pm. I had been checking my pace on my Garmin, but the extra half mile had messed up my overall pace. I start thinking about all my long, hard training, all that I had sacrificed for this race, all the people who I knew were rooting for me back home. I thought of Ben coming all the way from Pittsburgh to crew for me and I knew that he would be heartbroken if I didn’t finish if only because he loves me so much and I’d be heartbroken. At this point, I’m convinced I’m going to DNF. As I came up to the aid station I see an official with a watch and I hear him yell 2:59. I had less than 60 seconds. I am terrified to run by him for fear he’s going to pull me, but as I run by he lets me keep going. I made the cutoff by seconds. I was one of the last people to cross, if not the last person; I didn’t stop to check.

I feel like I’m against a wall being against the clock: every hour until the finish there is a cutoff. I don’t know how long I can keep up the paces I need to. I hate the feeling of needing to make up time and crawling out of a hole. A small group of MoCo Road Runners is ahead of me, and I can’t remember for the life of me if the girl turned around to speak to me or someone else, but she said, “Now is not the time to run scared.” I know she’s right, but I am scared. I’m terrified. I have so much on the line, so little left and so far to go. I think to myself, “Just make it to the next aid station.” I did, banking 10 minutes. I take a seat to clear out all the debris from the C&O canal that had collected in my shoes and got back on the road. Mentally I’m feeling much more in the game knowing I have 70 minutes to run the 3.3 miles to make the next cutoff. I make the next cutoff and bank more time still.  I walk out of the aid station and right as I’m about to pick it up, a guy starts running next to me like he’s out for a stroll. “Don’t make it look so easy!” I banter with him. We run together for a little bit before I realize he’s the guy from the Baltimore marathon with the Steelers jersey! What a small world! I really enjoy Breck’s company; he’s running about my pace and keeping my mind off the fact that I’ve run 40 some miles and still have 10 to go.

You remember Breck from the Baltimore Marathon

The Rolling Road to the Finish

After what really was an eternity on the towpath (~5 1/2 hours) we finally get on the rolling country roads for the final 8 miles.

The last mile marker on the towpath

I have a headlamp and Breck forgot his flashlight. I tell him to run ahead if I’m slowing him down, but he stays with me and I am thrilled. If the only reason Breck stayed with me is for my headlamp, then that was the best $50 I’ve ever spent. We walk the up hills, run the down hills and run where we can in between. The mile markers seem to be so long, but they count down. We stop by aid stations that have warm soup, which is just incredible, but don’t waste too much time. I’m perpetually checking my watch, still terrified of the cutoffs, even though we could walk 20 minute/miles and still finish.

At the second to last aid station I see two spectators who I have seen at every aid station and have cheered for me and lied to me (they told me I looked great so I knew it was BS ). I took a moment to thank them both and one of them says, “Congratulations.” I almost begin to sob but with four miles left it’s much too early for that. Breck is doing the math and he thinks we can come in under 11:30. At this point, I just want to finish, but if he wants a sub 11:30 I’ll do all I can as his running buddy to help him do it.

At the last aid station. Odd, no?

One mile left.

We run the last mile and a half, passing dozens of people, and for the last half mile the volunteers start saying “Congratulations.” I’m hugely choked up and as I start to see the lights and hear the crowd cheer, the clock comes into focus: 11:28. We can finish sub-11:30. I hear Ben call my name from the side and his voice and smile are the last push I need to get through the chute.

I cross the finish line and sob. Breck and I finish in 11:29:16 and 11:29:17.

The worst picture of me ever taken after such an epic day. I'm sun and/or windburned, my eyes are bloodshot, I'm sweaty and I'm crying. But it captures me and Breck after 50 miles.

11 ½ hours of running, almost DNFing, making friends, losing faith and then remembering to believe in myself. Volunteers are smiling and patting me on the back and I see Ben, who I embrace in an all out hug while sobbing on his shoulder. He whispers in my ear, “You did it,” which only makes me sob harder. When I sent Rick Freeman my Laurel Highlands Race Report, he told me that ultra runners are allowed to cry- in fact, they’ve been known to do much worse. You know that I’m the type to go all out, so I don’t just cry, I full out ugly cry for a little bit and try to process the enormity of the day.

Me and Ben at the finish. Finally done crying. And running.

Post-Race

Lucas had an incredible race. At his 50 mile debut, he came in under 7 hours, in the top 25 of a very competitive field and within a half hour of Scott Jurek. I am amazed and inspired by his athleticism.

I came within 5 hours of Scott Jurek I’m not fast, but I’m still pretty amazed by my athleticism. During the training for this event, I ran 670 miles, 2 official ultras (and one self-supported 50K) and three marathons. I was hit by a car and found out that my heart doesn’t always beat right. But more important than mileage, races and possible setbacks is that I realized I am strong, tough and I am a legitimate athlete. My pro runner buddy Rich once told me I was going to surprise a lot of people in the next few years. I told him the only people I would surprise were the ones who underestimated me, myself included. This year has been a trial by fire but I think with this race I finally understand my physical and mental potential and am excited to fully express that potential.

A very big thank you to all who have supported me on this crazy journey and those who will continue to support me on whatever crazy journey is up next.

Just a quick update on my involvement with Ray Zahab ’s incredible organization impossible2Possible.

I should be packing to head to Ottawa to help staff a youth camp but the camp was pushed back to January.

Good news: This weekend I will get to play as much as my taper will allow in the forecasted mid-60s sunshine and I still get to help kids and crash with Ray and Kathy. Plus, Bob and Ray are giving me the ability to create my own youth development modules! Awesome!

Bad news: Ray said Ottawa is -40 in January. At this point I’d usually complain about how I don’t do cold, but for kids in need, I can suck it up. Plus, there is usually a spring camp planned in California

In news that is much more exciting, Ray appointed me to the i2P advisory board! I should be up on the website any day now. I am so thrilled to really be a part of this team. It seems silly that a title would make me feel more connected: Ray and I already speak once a week and he has an endearing nickname for me that will not be shared, but I still feel like it’s too good to be true that a Facebook message could lead to an advisory position.

Earlier this week, Ray called me from the airport on his way home after speaking at a school in Northern Canada. He told me about the extreme poverty and adversity that these children faced and that a 10 year old in the community had recently attempted suicide. Ray called me because he was so moved and saw such a need and wanted to share the experience with me while it was fresh. I once heard an analogy: you can tell a child that the stove is hot and they understand; once the child touches the stove they really understand. I knew that i2P was an incredible organization, but hearing Ray speak made me really understand:  i2P can reach kids who need help and this is why this organization is so important. We can teach, challenge, and inspire them. And that is incredible.

I’m continuing to work on education modules for the upcoming expeditions to Siberia and a super secret to-be announced location (trust me, it's awesome) that will focus on water awareness. If you’re a teacher and are interested in this free educational program for your students, sign up here.

Lake Baikal, Siberia, courtesy of the National Science Foundation

I’ve also spoken with Ray about the possibility of joining a youth expedition in a beautiful, exotic locale down the road (this is secret amazing place #2 for those keeping track). I’ll keep you posted, but leave you with the questions: Have you realized that the “impossible” is possible? If so, what made you come to that realization?

The 2009 MCM was my 9^th marathon, my 7^th since March. The goal of this race was yet another training run for JFK50 (total training races: 2 marathons and 2 ultras), but after coming so close to a PR two weeks ago at the Baltimore Marathon, I knew it could be a PR day.

Saturday: Expo and Pre-Race

I got to the expo and it was enormous, crowded and overwhelming.

Only some of the really huge expo

The volunteers were exceedingly kind and helpful and I just love seeing the Marines in their uniforms. I ran into my buddy Dane and we chatted for a while.

Me and Dane. He runs a LOT!

I also went to the Semper Fi Fund table where I finally got to meet Corey, an injured Marine who was helped by The Fund and now works for them. We’ve been in touch since I raised funds with Antarctica. She was so sweet and I was so happy that I was able to help the cause; if you would like to donate to an incredible organization, you can do so here.

I also bargained a $110 jacket down to $80 (paying cash, asking for deals and male vendors all help) and got a $50 Dick’s gift card for signing up for the Pittsburgh marathon. I love deals! Next up I headed down to Ike’s where we would meet Shell to go to dinner with friends. I was relaxing on his couch, curled under a blanket when I see Shell come in… followed by Ben! Why is this notable and/or exciting? Ben is one of my very best friends and my neighbor in Pittsburgh who is supposed to be visiting his family in New Jersey this weekend. So why is he in DC?! Well, come to find out, ever since Ben met Shell and Ike at the Pittsburgh marathon, he has been scheming to come down and surprise whoever was running MCM! I love Ben! Both Shell and Ike were out with injuries so they were co-conspirators! After a lot of confusion as to why he was there, squeaking about the fact that he actually WAS there, telling him I hated him, proposing to him, and hitting him a few times so that I wouldn’t cry (and yes, I realize the diversity of that response) we headed to an awesome dinner with friends in Crystal City.

Me and Ben at dinner

The rest of the night was spent making signs, drinking pumpkin beer, eating ice cream and watching Grey’s Anatomy.

Shell making one of several awesome signs

Good times with great friends. I went to sleep feeling so excited for race day and so well-loved to have such fabulous people rallying to support me. If I’m not the luckiest girl in the world, I want to meet the girl who is.

Sunday: Race Day

Shell and I are up and going a million miles a minute and before 6:30 she had already rewritten song lyrics to reflect race day (e.g. “Shorty fire burning on the race course, whoa-o; Kat’s gonna run real fast, she’s gonna kick a lot of @ss on the race course, woa-o”), hosted a disco party in Ike’s car (courtesy of his emergency light/whistle) and slow danced with Ike while waiting for balloons.

I love, love, love, love, LOVE race morning. Getting to the start of the race was such a rush and we timed it so that I could use a porta potty, meet some old friends and make some new friends before the start. Perfect.

Me, Mike, Carl (who is also running JFK50) and Chris

Since a PR was a possibility my plan was to start out conservatively (9:45-10 min/miles) and pick it up if I felt better later; I think I tend to go out too fast in the beginning of races and I wanted to mitigate that.

MCM Start

Video of the start, and thanking Marines

Immediately after the start we pass by Arlington National Cemetery.  My step-dad’s sister was just buried at Arlington and it simultaneously shook me and inspired me. There are always inspiring stories at races, but MCM seems to have more- they are everywhere you look. But I wasn’t ready for one so early, and also not such a personal one. I turn a corner not much later to see an enormous American flag suspended over the marathon course. I’m such a giant, sappy, bleeding heart and this race is going to tug on every heart string I have.

American flags were hoisted

and carried

We run down Spout Run and turn onto Canal Road where I befriend Wayne, a Navy guy who is also running with Team Semper Fi.

Running by Georgetown University

I catch up to a runner from a DC running group that I ran with when visiting DC this summer and then I have my next tear-jerking moment. I see a singlet with a very handsome Marine who was killed in action- Bill Jacobsen. The singlet also says, “My son, my hero.” I’m compelled to say something, but what can you possibly say to a father that has lost his beautiful son? I tell him that I’m sorry for his loss and am completely overwhelmed by tears that I choked back as I ran ahead. What I said felt too superficial and I regretted it, but couldn’t figure out what else to say. I spent most of the rest of the race running right behind Bill’s sister (wearing a similar singlet) and trying not to think of my own brother who is a Marine about to deploy to Afghanistan.

We then turned into Georgetown where there are lots of great crowds and really fun personal memories. MCM was less of a trip down memory lane than the Baltimore marathon, but the house I grew up in is 11 radial miles from the White House so I’ve spent a lot of time in DC and I love so much about the city.

Georgetown spectators, Part I

Georgetown Spectators, Part II (shorter but better quality)

Before we reach the Kennedy Center I start to pass a man when I read something on his singlet that makes me realize he is Will Brown, one of the Groundpounders, a group of 4 men who have run every single MCM. All 34 of them! I know Will through the MCM message boards, but instead of treating him like a friend, I act like a total groupie and ask to take a picture of him. He humors me, but as I run on I can only hope that I didn’t annoy the Marine and ultrarunner with my obsequiousness.

As we head into Haines Point there are lots of spectators, even MY spectators!

Ben, Ike and Shell cheering for me

Lined up and ready to cheer

I also remember that last year this is where I started to fall apart and, in contrast, this year I feel great and I’m keeping my sub-10 splits as planned. I find Haines Point peaceful and I see my friend’s girlfriend who cheers for me and I stumble upon Ray, who is carrying an American flag. The theme for the day is tearjerkers and seeing a Ray immediately made me think of my friend Ray who is currently deployed in Afghanistan. I thank runner Ray and try to shift my focus to anything but worrying about “my” Ray. On one hand, as an American I am so proud to have amazing men like Ray doing good for our country; on the other hand, as a friend, it breaks my heart that someone that I care about is deployed. After dating my ex through 2 deployments, I want my heart in the US and not in Iraq or Afghanistan.

I think it is so amazing that people carry flags the entire race.

Check out this amazing tree in Haines Point!

After Haines Point we turn onto the National Mall where I see Ike before I am swarmed with spectators. I’m holding onto my pace but it’s a little more work now. I keep telling myself just to run the mile I’m in, make  it to the Sports Beans, and to get to Ben, Ike and Shell.

A high school band playing for the spectators

Pink gorilla. There were also spectators dressed as a beaver and a bumble bee

Mile 15 had an awesome band and a great view of hte Washington monument

Runners and spectators behind the Lincoln memorial

Around mile 16 I see a man who is walking on crutches who is missing some of his calf and he is being followed by men pushing a wheelchair. I have this overwhelming wave of feeling so thankful that I have two working legs and lungs and heart that are more healthy than not. A flash of an e-mail that Corey once sent me sticks out: she asked me to enjoy running because she misses it so much (she is paralyzed). I suddenly feel so thankful yet burdened by wanting to do well for all those people who can’t do what I take for granted more days than not. I keep running, trying not to cry. I can’t believe I’ve held back so many tears in one stupid race.

It was such a perfect day for a race

Capitol Building

Bagpipers played for the runners on the National Mall

A ridiculous womens drumming group that comes out every year

I see my friends at Mile 20 coming onto the bridge. I hate the bridge. It’s long, boring, there are very few spectators and it’s a hill. Plus, people start to fall apart here so it’s easy to thinking about stopping to walk with everyone else. The problem is, if you’re strong enough to keep running there are so many runners who have stopped or slowed that it becomes a contest in weaving which makes running even harder. I see my friend Tuan, who is running across the bridge with runners from his running group and I run with him for a bit before I tell him to go take care of his own. He later told me I looked “so relaxed” like I was “going to get the paper.” I don’t believe him based on how I was feeling, but I get to the end of the bridge and turn into Crystal City.

A member of Team Semper Fi

Best end of bridge spectator EVER!

I also don’t like Crystal City. There are lots of spectators but it’s an out and back and that late in the race it’s tough to mentally have a loop going in the wrong direction just to tack on mileage. I make it to mile 23 and I start to have problems breathing. Stupid asthma. I’m so angry and frustrated, it feels like I’m sucking air through a straw into lungs the size of golf balls. The rest of my body feels great and mentally I’m so in the game but it’s all I can do just to get enough air to keep moving forward. This means I also can’t cheer for spectators, encourage other runners or thank the volunteers- my favorite parts of racing. Add to this that I see a group of motorcyclists who escort the coffins of members of the armed forces who were killed in action. Tears well up as they cheer for me and I choke them down again, telling myself I can cry at the end.

The last few miles are some of the hardest I’ve run because I feel muted by my difficulty breathing. I want to interact with people around me, but don’t have the air to do it. I run in silence and as the spectators begin to thicken near the finish line so many people look me in the eye and cheer for me by name. I can’t thank them and it kills me. A thumbs up just doesn’t express how thankful I am that they are cheering for me. I see friends Brett and Steve and begin up the hill towards the finish at the Iwo Jima memorial. The hill isn’t terrible but men are walking and limping up it and I think of how hard it would be to be a wheelchair athlete. There are Marines standing near the chute and I muster all I can for a high-five as I cross the finish line at 4:26:53.

Final hill on the way to the finish line. What's it like to cross? You'll need to find out for yourself.

A Marine puts a medal around my neck and I think of Dan, who I met at the start. Dan said that he had ordered a hundred medals that he passed out to runners so that the runners could give the Marines a medal that was so deserved. Dan, thank you for sharing such a wonderful idea; I hope you don’t mind if I borrow it next year.

Salty and not cute after 26.2 miles but so honored to be getting a medal from a Marine. I tried to thank him for his service but ended up a stupid, stammering mess and shook his hand.

The medal Dan was going to give a Marine at the finish.

My race wasn’t a PR, although I think it could have been if a) my asthma wouldn’t have started to give me problems and b) I wouldn’t have run an extra (are you ready for this?) 0.8 miles! I love this race, but it’s so crowded and so many runners stop to walk in the middle of the course (please move to the side), which resulted in a lot of weaving which really compounds over 26.2 miles. My pace applied to 26.2 miles and not 27 would have been a PR by almost 2 minutes, but such is racing. At the end of the race I got to give the pink balloons that Shell and Ike carried to help me locate them to little kids! I am the biggest fan ever of random acts of kindness so this was possibly the best part of the race! Next up: JFK50!

At the end with great friends and awesome signs

Background: The 2004 Baltimore half-marathon was my first-ever distance beyond 10K. I had a miserable race and crossed the finish line proclaiming to my support crew that I would never run again. I really thought I meant it! This year’s marathon would serve as training for JFK50, with my plan being to run it as a training run (not race), take some pictures and video for this blog and encourage others along the way.

Now I should add: I love Baltimore. A lot. I spent a year living in Baltimore with my best friend, Hannah, while working at the National Institute on Drug Abuse as a post-bac fellow. It was one of the best years of my life and I love so much about the city- the cobblestone streets (created from stones that used to weight the ships that came into Baltimore harbor), the original Washington Monument, Hon culture, the farmer’s market under 83 and crabs. I loved the fries at Brewers Art, the beautiful architecture of the old mansions, gelato from Vaccaro’s and nights out in Canton Square. I am Baltimore’s #1 fan.

Pre-race: At the expo I meet up with my friend from college, Jamie.

Me and Jamie at the Expo

Jamie was one of the first people I met at Maryland and he was always floating around since he was friends with all of my roommates. We got back in touch and are going to do the Columbia triathlon together next May and I won’t let him forget that he pitched Kilimanjaro in 2011. We wandered what I thought was a very good expo and I was thrilled to see that the tech shirt was a women’s specific tech shirt! Good job, Under Armor! I’m sick of “small” race shirts that are longer than my shorts with sleeves down to my elbows. I split up with Jamie to head to my best friend Andy’s place where we spend the night drinking beer and playing the drums. Awesome way to relax pre-race.

Andy's drum room: Awesome.

Race day: I’m up early and the moment I step out the door, I am stunned by how hot (~65 at 5 am!) and humid it is. The weather stays warm and humid all day. I get to the start and try to find Jamie but instead befriend Sam, a Marine who is about to run his first marathon. I found the start to be very disorganized and there was no partition between the runners and the spectators meaning that some spectators formed a wall that prevented runners from entering the start. One bonus was that there was a confetti canon. Every marathon start should have a confetti canon.

Starting Line

We take off north and the first few miles are uphill but I keep a steady 9:45 pace. We run through the zoo and botanical gardens which I think are beautiful. I find a guy in a Steelers jersey and try to stay near him, deflecting a few comments from Raven’s fans who are not thrilled to see a Steeler on their territory.

I also find two guys decked out as Ravens- beaks, feathers, wings, the whole 9 yards.

We turn south and nostalgia sets in as we run by where my good friend Adrienne used to live, and me and Hannah’s old apartment. I see Oscar, a former co-worker, and run over to him for a quick hug before continuing forward (I have somehow had friends spectating at every marathon I’ve ever run! Even Antarctica. How lucky am I?!). I’ve passed the 4:15 pace group and I know I should slow down but I feel so strong as I head into downtown and my pace drops to around 9:15.

Lobster dog!! I saw him and asked the owners if I could take a picture. The dog was so super sweet, incredibly cute and very happy that one of the runners (me!) came to play with it!

I thought I would love Federal Hill, and while the first mile in and the last mile out were beautiful and had incredible spectator support, there was a three-mile loop that was no-man’s land; it also starts to rain.

The Star Spangled Banner was written after Francis Scott Key witnessed bombings in Baltimore's Fort Henry (wiki)

On the left is the Visionary Art Museum. It's facade is a mirror mosaic.

We come back through downtown and head over to Fells Point where I remember playing credit card roulette, drinking bellinis at a gorgeous waterfront bar, and even a very romantic first kiss on the water.

The Harbor from Federal Hill

It gets better as we run by the bakery that fills the air with the smell of fresh bread- one of my favorite things of this part of Baltimore (me and Han used to roll our windows down every time we went by). Right as I am reminiscing about me and Adrienne playing hooky on the first spring day to get our nails done and drink beer on a patio, the 4:15 pace group passes me. Let the mental games begin. We turn towards Canton Square and once we head towards Patterson Park I start to fall apart. This is compounded by the fact that this is where:

• The second half of the hills begin
• The half marathon joins the marathon (the slower marathons were joining with us, so a lot were walking and some lacked the etiquette to move to the side which created lots of people to run around)
• We again head into an area almost devoid of spectators

THIS is where I bonked! Ugh!

I find a gu to snack on, start thinking mantras (“Who’s a runner? Kat’s a runner!” “Thankful. Focused. Calm.” “Breath”) and do anything I can to keep my head in the game, but I start to walk the hills. I check out. It turns from a good run to “just” a training run. My pace get closer to 11 minute miles. Then I get to mile 20 where there is a clock: 3:22. What?!?! I wasn’t watching time, just my pace, and I realize if I have a strong 10K I can PR. What?! I snap into action and just when I think I’m thirsty and could see another gu I see that both are available from Terp volunteers! Awesome! As we leave Lake Montebello one of the more passionate spectators had stopped cheering. “Hey!” I yell at him, “You stopped cheering!” He starts cheering so ferociously that about 5 runners around me start to laugh. I tell them my favorite running secret: If you cheer for spectators, they cheer for you!

I have this insane burst of energy from miles 22-24. Some runners have their names on their backs and as I pass a girl named Julia, I tell her she’s doing great. “OMG! THANK YOU!” she screams loud enough to startle me, “You have no idea how much I needed that!” Yay! I was a race angel! I see an older man standing watching the runners and I wave to him and yell good morning. He perks right up and tells me, “You look great, sweetheart!” I love when people call me sweetheart. As we go up yet another hill, I turn to a guy who seems to be having a tough time. I’m hamming it up and ask “Do the hills ever go down in this city?!” He is too tired to appreciate my humor and sadly shakes his head. I feel bad and immediately shout, “Yes! They go down! Really!!!” A few seconds later a relay runner passes me, saying “You are the friendliest runner I’ve ever seen!” Yay! That’s the best thing someone could ever say to me. The race could stop here and it would be a good one. But the race doesn’t end here, in fact here is the gummy bear station! One group of volunteers bough and distributed 400 POUNDS of gummy bears! I read this in a pre-race e-mail last week while at work and I frantically turned to my office mate: “OMG, Brian!” I pause to see if Brian is working or looking at sports scores. Just sports scores, so I continue: “Brian! There’s going to be a gummy bear man with 400 pounds of gummy bears at my race this weekend! That’s me, you, and Brooke (our boss), in gummy bears!!!!” Brian just shook his head.

Awesome spectators!!

This person was there 5 years ago! I never forgot them! So psyched I captured it this time!

We run through sections with amazing spectators and around mile 24 drivers stuck in traffic have gotten out of their cars to cheer for the runners. The final stretch is downhill and we pass my old apartment again, as well as my brother’s old apartment. I come upon a guy I’d been leapfrogging with the whole race. I told him he’d better beat me and he conceded that I could finish first as he dropped back…. Only to sprint ahead a few seconds later! I cheer for him and head to the finish line myself.

The girls on the left were holding hands as they ran towards the finish line.

Finish time: 4:23:47. I missed my PR by 47 seconds. In some ways that hurts- so close! But in other ways, it’s amazing. I ran 30 miles last weekend and an ultra three weekends ago meaning that my legs are anything but fresh and rested. This was a hilly course, I wasn’t going out to race, and I even stopped several times to take pictures and video. And I finished having fun unlike my 4:23:00 PR where the last 6 miles were miserable and I was gutting it out. It may not be reflected in the time, but this race shows me that my fitness is improving, which is great.

Post-Race: This race was only one very small part of a big weekend. I left the race to head to the Chesapeake Bay to surprise my best friend for her birthday. She was surely surprised (“OMG, Kitty! I can’t believe you’re here! I want to keep touching you to make sure you’re real!”) and we spent the rest of the weekend gabbing like only best friends can and eating incredible food courtesy of her wonderful husband. We even went to the beach across the street from the new (five bedroom!) house they’re building.

"Small" nachos. We also had steak, brown rice with almonds, asparagus and onion, and ravioli with sauteed baby eggplant. The man is also a rocket scientist. Seriously.

Breakfast!Sweet potato hash, turkey bacon, eggs and waffles.

Morning walk on the beach

This weekend had it all: I saw old co-workers, my family, two of my best friends, toured one of my favorite cities and running the marathon was the keystone that brought it all together.

Impossible2Possible

I’ve talked a lot about this group because I’m so excited to be working with them. Ray invited me to join him and Bob Cox for a camp in Canada in October. The problem is that October has 5 weekends:

• 2 I’m running marathons (Baltimore and MCM)
  
• 1 I’m at an all-day mindfulness meditation retreat
• 1 I’m vacationing in a cabin in upstate NY with some of my very best friends
• 1 I’m working (I work with kids so I work one weekend a month)

I was bummed that I’d need to sacrifice something in order to participate until Ray called me and told me that the camp would be November 14^th and 15^th (to mimic the arctic conditions they faced in Baffin Island!).  Not only does it not conflict with races, school or personal obligations, but it’s the week before JFK50 meaning I won’t need to worry about running 30 miles at 3 am in Canada before working with 40 teenagers (although I bet between Ray and Bob I’d be able to find a running partner!). I’m amazed it all worked out and couldn’t be more excited. I’ll surely post more as this unfolds.

Ironman and Internship

Ahhhhhh. I said them. I said the “I” words. Ironman. Breath. Internship. Whoa!

I’m not sure which is scarier. I assume athletes read this blog so you know that an Ironman is a triathlon with a 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike and 26.2 mile run. For the non-psychologists, internship is a year-long placement necessary for me to get my Ph.D. I will be matched (think med school residency match) somewhere (anywhere!) in the US for a year which is both scary and exciting- just like the thought of an Ironman.

I was thinking about an Ironman in 2010, but I can’t get my biking where it needs to be in time. That makes 2011 the next possibility. The problem is, I’m eligible to apply for internship next Fall (2010). I’ve gotten good at juggling, but applying for internship next Fall would mean that I would be training for an Ironman while:

• Traveling the US interviewing for internship placements
• Trying to wrap up my dissertation for defense
• Moving my life somewhere between Pittsburgh and Seattle and
• Starting a new job

That is a bad idea. I’m good, but I’m human and I can’t swing all of that. I spoke with my advisor about my plan for the next few years and, without knowing about my Ironman concerns, she suggested that I take an extra year and apply for internship in 2011 (not 2010). This means that I can do it all- apply for a competitive research grant from NIH (an NRSA in case an academic reads this), work on my dissertation, apply for internship and train for an Ironman. How did that all work out?!

As I begin to compete more and my races become more extreme and require more preparation, I know that I’ll need to make tough decisions and begin to sacrifice, but right now it feels really good to have everything that is important to me falling into place. I sort of feel unstoppable which I hope is a feeling I can hold onto for JFK and IM2011

As if getting my Ph.D., training for ultramarathons and volunteering wasn't enough to keep me busy, I decided to take on a new project.

I found out about this project from my friends Kathy and Alex. Kathy just moved to Hong Kong with her new husband and word on the street is that as a newly minted lawyer, Alex is off to London. Cool, exciting things for these two. I love photography so I liked the idea of this project but I was worried: what if I was boring. I mean really, I basically run and study a lot. So I expressed my concern to my friend Kristin while we were on a picnic in the park. And in the kind of brilliance that is so natural to her, that I’m not even sure she’s aware she has, she exclaimed: I love the idea! I would think that it would make you look for the beauty in the world.

Sold. I have no idea what most of the next year holds- I know there will be some big races (JFK and I'm toying with the idea of an Ironman which I'll post more about later) and some professional milestones (defending my comps, prosposing my disseration and maybe applying for internships). A little international travel is planned with Ray Zahab and impossible2Possible. But maybe the big things aren’t the important or exciting parts of life. Maybe it’s the beauty that we take for granted every day. So wish me luck as I embark on a project where, in the next year, I will seek to find and document the beauty in Pittsburgh.

You can follow my project here

9 September 2009: Sunset from my condo

I recently realized that although I talk a lot about my running and racing, I don’t talk a lot about my training. I thought it be a good idea to share how I’m training to run JFK50 in November.

I’m following the Annapolis Striders Plan modified as such:

The Cathedral of Learning where I run stairs. It's the second tallest academic building in the world. 

I will try to run as many runs as I can on trails but with a busy semester that might be tough to swing logistically. I also plan to run extra long at least once a month. For September it will be the Youngstown Ultra Trail Classic 50K on the 19th. For October I have yet to decide. I want to shoot for a 40 miler a few weeks out. I have two options. I could either:

1. Run the Marine Corps Marathon as scheduled and then tack on 14 miles

• The previous or following day (I’m not sure if back to back runs would physiologically reproduce the stress of 40 continuously)

• The same day

2. Run the Marine Corps Marathon slower than normal and try to tackle the 40 the following week.

I’m not sure if a too-long taper (Option 1) is better or worse than back to back high-mileage weeks (Option 2). This is a lot of mileage for me so I’m hoping I can maintain this volume and remain uninjured. Any input is more than appreciated!

Pre-Race

I love this race. Half the reason I love this race is that it’s a trail 5K in a community that rallies around the run, and the other half is because packet pick-up is one block from my favorite bar that I never go to. D’[s Six Pax and Dogz|http://www.regentsquare.net/ds6pax.html] does just that… beer and hot dogs. And cheese fries. They have a beer cave with hundreds of brews. I clearly rounded up ten of my closest friends (okay, friends who I knew would be up for several hours of drinking) for happy hour. Beyond just being awesome because I was with friends at my favorite bar, happy hour was also cool because two guys who claim to have been motivated by my running were there:

1. Daniel, a former collegiate runner who signed up for Run Around the Square as his first post- hip surgery race (he was shooting for a sub-3 at Pittsburgh and tore his labrum playing soccer right before the race- ouch!).

2. Dave, who biked across the US and was inspired to run the Spirit of Pittsburgh half marathon in November (still not sure how I motivated him to do that).

As far as I’m concerned, I could have crawled the race backwards and happy hour bringing people together would have made this race worth it.

Race

I woke up and surely felt the effects of 6 hours of drinking, hot dogs and cheese fries. Smart people do dumb things sometimes. Or frequently if you’re me and keep signing up for ultras. That’s a separate point. I needed to run 10 miles and 20 miles this weekend so I made Saturday my 10 mile day and planned a route that would let me run a 7 mile roundtrip route to the race.

Per usual at race start I see current friends (Lisa who I coached with, Sarah who’s one of my classmates, Jen #1 with whom I’m on a treatment grant, and Justin who was my cheerleader at Drake Well) and make new friends (super fast female Pharaoh Hound, Terp Alum) at the start. I’d like to beat my course record (26:49) but I’ve been putting a lot of mileage on my body and all of my runs have been slower than normal recently. We wait for the start, which has been delayed by-- are you ready for this?-- a raccoon on the trail. Seriously? I have now had the following animals interfere with race courses: penguin, wild turkey, ground hog, and raccoon. Once the raccoon has been cleared (when did I think that phrase would make it into a race report?) we get started.

Mile 1: Brick streets and lots of spectators. I see an ambulance a half mile in and think that it is really good positioning because the streets are so treacherous. Right before the first water stop I see Sarah’s fiancé, Scott, who cheers for me like he came to cheer just for me. So awesome. Scott’s a really talented runner but he was out there to support Sarah and did a great job supporting me as well.

Brick Streets in Regent Square 

Mile 2: Going into mile 2 there is the champagne stop that was there last year! But it’s better than ever because it’s manned by my friend Jen (#2) and her husband, Jon. She yells at me and holds up a cup of champagne and I consider taking it since I know today’s not going to be a PR day. I decide against it and tell her I might come back. The men in tutus from last year’s water stop were dressed as Steelers this year- including a Troy Polamalu wig ! There was also a musician playing “She’ll Be Comin’ Round the Mountain” (elevation increase for this race: 1,144 feet). As we head onto the trails there is an a capella group AND I see Scott again. Awesome. I finish mile 2 at around 19 minutes and realize that’s when Daniel wanted to finish. Man I wish I was fast sometimes! Ok, I wish I was fast all the time.

One of the only web images I could find of the Frick Trails. Of course this was a flat part that didn't exist in our course.

Mile 3: About 30% of the participants are walking since it’s such a long nasty hill but I know we’re coming up on a killer downhill so I try to encourage people to pick it up. Yelling “it’s all downhill from here!” while true, does not make friends at mile 2.5 of an uphill trail 5K. There are musicians placed at half mile intervals and I hear the bagpiper before I see him. I love this race! I finish and I hear someone yell my name but there are so many faces I can’t figure out who it might be. I’m over a minute slower than last year, and in some ways that’s disappointing, but I also think that my potential for speed would be better accessed if I was a) rested and b) training for speed and not endurance

Post Race

As I go through the chute, they clip my chip, and hand me water and a long-stemmed carnation. I almost immediately run into Sarah, Scott, Daniel and Daniel’s friend, Michael. Sarah didn’t have a strong run, but Daniel had what I would consider a pretty impressive 19 minute finish on his first race post hip-reconstruction. Vendors, dogs and kids are out in force (there were at least three 4 year olds who ran the 1.5 mile fun run- with times around 16 minutes!!) Daniel and I seek out puppies (there was a dog race so dogs abound) and befriend two ENORMOUS St. Bernards. The bandanas for the dog race matched the race t-shirts. There aren’t words for how cute it was.

We grab Rita’s Italian ice, which is the best post-race food that has ever existed in the history of the universe. That good. Panera cinnamon crunch bagels also top the list and wouldn’t you know D’s was there serving beer right next to a grill with hot dogs and hamburgers. We stuck around the after party for about an hour where I also ran into Kasey and David (who I found out was the mystery finish line cheerer) and some other friends.

Mornings like today make me wonder why people don’t run. Actually running the race was maybe 10% of what made last night and this morning so awesome, but it set the stage for everything else. As I ran home from the race I was floating and running felt good for the first time in a long time.

Readers, feel free to post in comments: What is your favorite part of racing? The competition? The spectators? PRing?