In case you missed Part One of this saga, click here.

When I receive good service from a company, I tell people. I tell a lot of people. As a matter of fact, if I am really impressed, I will even write a letter to the company, praising the folks that made my experience wonderful.

By the same token, when I receive bad service from a company, I tell people. I tell a lot of people. I make phone calls to try to peacefully resolve my issues, and sometimes, it all works out in the end. Sometimes, it doesn’t.

Sadly, this is one of those times.

Remember the too-small unattractive swimsuit?

Upon further investigation, here’s what I learned:

• According to the company's web site, the Grab Bag suits are “Originally $70.00.” Mine arrived with a MSRP tag that read “$42.00.”

• The Speedo size chart runs small. According to their chart and measurements, I should be able to wear a size 36 and could probably even get in to a size 34. However, I couldn’t even get the 36 over my posterior.

• I will have to pay to ship the package back AND pay to have a new one shipped to me. And I still might end up with the same unattractive suit (which is fine, really, because it will give us something to laugh about every week at the pool.)

When I called to politely express my concerns about the first two points, I was told that Speed-0 sometimes mis-labels the suits with the wrong price. And the customer service representative was ‘Sorry’ that the size chart was inadequate.

“Sorry” was all I got. Even when I said I would never do business with them again. Even when I said that I was going to write about this experience on my website. “Sorry.” No attempt to make things right.

Well, Lane 4 Swim, you *should* be sorry…because hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

So please, avoid Lane 4 Swim at all costs. Please tell your family and friends to avoid them. Seriously, pass it on. If you don’t swim, tell your swimmer friends. Put up a poster at the local pool, Whatever. Just help me get the word out.

Does anyone want to buy a hot pink Speed-0 suit from me? I’m not sure I want to part with $10 more dollars to ship it back and forth, only to wind up with something worse. Any takers? Price is negotiable. Perfect suit for an 8- to 12- year old girl. Might even fit her too.

Sigh.

I've been tracking some of the RBFers out on the Marine Corp Marathon course today...and this is just so exciting!

Actually, Susie and I have been tracking them together. She's at the race right now and we've been in constant contact all morning, with me giving her chip-timing updates from the computer and her giving me status reports of the runners that she has spotted on the course, since she's there in person.

Here's what I know:

Michelle is looking good and should be finishing any minute now!

David is also looking strong and closing in on the finish line!

We lost track of Jeanne since her chip-time wasn't registering, but I just got a call from Susie...as she was running along side Jeanne...and was told that Jeanne looks great and is pushing for the finish line.

Jeanne even got on the phone with me to tell me about all the wonderful supporters she had running along side of her, including Superman himself,...and then, I *think* she may have professed her love for me. I can't be sure.

I've got a HUGE grin on my face right now and cannot wait for ALL of our RBFers to get across that finish line so we can all start celebrating!

WoooHOoooo!

I am in desperate need of a new swimsuit.

There is nothing that I hate more than shopping for a new swimsuit, except shopping for new bras. Or a new car. Or a major appliance.

After months of procrastination, the paper-thin material on the backside of my suit threatened to split open. I decided that I would take a chance and order a swimsuit online. I knew my size, based on my current suit, and had the name of web site that came recommended from one of the Swimming Chicks.

This particular web site has a ‘Grab Bag’ feature, where, for a lower price, you provide your size and then they select a discontinued suit for you. My friend has used this feature before and has had good results. I thought, ‘What the heck?’

I consulted the size chart, which indicated that I should request a smaller size than the size I originally intended.

A few key strokes later and the package was on it’s way to me.

I waited, breathlessly, anticipating what the suit might look like, The style, the fabric…all unknown. I was living on the edge.

Finally it arrived.

And let’s just say…I think this particular fabric would work much better on a female that is about 28 years YOUNGER than me. Thankfully, it’s too small, so back it goes. I’m hoping for a refund, minus the overpriced shipping. I guess I’ll have to do this ‘old school’ and go shopping out in the real world.

Sigh.

As a wise friend once said “You drink Old Mil (Old Milwaukee beer), you take your chances.”

After spending the last week and a half regaling anybody who would listen with stories of my marathon, life has returned to ‘normal’ and I’ve been more restrained about randomly blurting out “I’m going to BOSTON!” (Kidding! The only person I said that to was my husband. Repeatedly. Punching him in the arm each time.)

The first few days post-marathon weren’t as bad as I expected, soreness-wise. To be honest, this year was probably my best of the last three years for soreness. I mean, I was able to sit down and then get back up again, without having to hold on to anything! Going down stairs wasn’t a lot of fun, but I didn’t have to walk down them backwards this year. It’s these little victories that mean so much to me.

I saw my massage therapist on Wednesday, and she was impressed that my muscles were in such good shape for having just endured a marathon. That made me smile.

I participated in one hour-long yoga class last Tuesday and went for a 14-mile slllooowwww bike ride on Sunday. Other than that, I was largely motionless for the entire week. Imagine my surprise when the scale informed me that I had lost 2 pounds! (I have since returned to my everyday average weight.)

My first post-marathon run was yesterday morning. For the most part, everything seemed to be operating smoothly. There were a couple ‘niggles’ that caught my attention, but I also recognize that I am hypersensitive about every little twitch right now. It was this time last year that the ITB reared it’s ugly head, and I’d like to avoid a repeat of that (as much as I enjoyed the twice-weekly PT massages). The good news is: I know what to look for, I know when to stop if it hurts, and I know how to prevent/fix it.

Coach has me running only two more times this week, and I’ve got some swimming and yoga thrown in there for good measure. We’re slowly getting me back in to the game.

And really? I’m in no rush. Doing everything different has proven to be effective for me, so why stop now? In the past, as soon as my legs had felt un-sore, I would have started running again. Not this time. I waited EIGHT days before running again. Not only was I able to wait patiently but I actually enjoyed the time off. Gasp! I KNOW! It caught me by surprise too.

The road to Boston continues. I suspect I'll be staying on The Hard Road for just a little longer. I wouldn't have it any other way.

(And believe it or not…I haven’t officially registered yet.)

Wow. The RBF has absolutely overwhelmed me with all the comments, emails and blog shout-outs. From the bottom of my heart, Thank You! You have no idea how much you motivate and inspire me.

Michelle has a small Kodak gallery of pictures here, and April-Anne has a few pictures up over at her place.

After a few days of post-marathon reflection, I'd like to share a few final notes with you, and then I'll shut up already:

Forgotten moments:

• After passing by the start line, we heard people yelling 'DIANNA!' I looked over to see a blur of faces...but was able to make out two orange hats in the crowd. The Running Chicks had made it in time to see me off, and were donning orange hats in my honor. I hadn't even run a quarter mile yet, and I was already feeling the love.

• At one point, during mile 8, I grew concerned about our pace. We were pushing up a very slight incline and my watch was saying "8:44, 8:47, 8:50." I started to panic. Oh my God...why are we getting SLOWER but I feel like I'm running faster?! OH NO.
  
  And then it dawns on me...I'm reading the MILEAGE/DISTANCE screen, not the pace screen, so it was actually saying 8.40, 8.47...miles, not minutes. Silly runner.
  
  
• Around the 16-mile mark, there was a caution sign on the road that said 'Runners On Road'...my addled brain read it as 'Hummers on Road.' That made me giggle.
  

• During the race, Charlie would introduce to me to other runners: "This is Dianna. She's qualifying for Boston today. She's not trying to qualify, she *is* qualifying." With a cheerleader like that by my side, how could I go wrong?

I am keenly aware of the fact that my race day was the stuff that dreams are made of. I recognize that everything fell in to place perfectly, and that I am very, very lucky to have had it all come together. While running the race, I did remark, more than once, that I felt that the universe owed me this day..that I had earned it. Last year's marathon was a rain-soaked, menstrual challenge. Then I spent the winter working on my ITB issues. When I tried to run the San Diego marathon in June, I picked up a bacterial Ick-Fest which resulted in a 'Did Not Start' that broke my heart.

I kept working hard on my training. No matter what else life threw at me, I made sure to protect my training time. It wasn't always easy, and there were days when I wasn't sure I could pull it all off. I sacrificed time with family and friends, the cleanliness of my house, and a great deal of sleep. But I had faith in my Coach and more importantly, faith in myself and I wasn't going to give up or give in. I had a bone to pick with the Hartford Marathon, and I wasn't going to lose this time.

On race day, all we can do is run the race that is placed before us to the best of our abilities. Sometimes, we are handed a pile of crap. Other times, we are handed a gift.

I took my gift and ran all the way to the finish line with it. I hope you get a gift for your next race too.

In case you missed the blow-by-blow action via blogcast from Coach Jeff, you can read that here.

Official Race Report

**Warning - Long-time readers know that my race reports are epic in length, with sporadic verb tense. This one is no exception.**

Last year, about seven weeks before my second marathon, I decided that my dream goal for the race would be to run my Boston Qualifying (BQ) time of 3:45. It was a crazy idea, since I hadn't trained towards that goal, but I set the bar high anyway, interested in seeing what it would feel like to reach for it.

I missed the bar, by about nine minutes. I didn't let any disappointment seep in to my attitude, because my overall race experience was awesome, and I knew in my heart that I had raced with everything I had, especially given the conditions of the day.

Here's what I wrote last year about it:

"And I've promised myself that I will not obsess over the 3:45. I really enjoy the challenge that the marathon presents, and I love the fact that I can actually SMILE when I'm out there. I refuse to let the joy get sucked out by a silly number. I'll train harder and smarter for the next marathon, but I refuse to let the 3:45 overshadow the experience for what it really means to me. I always want to be smiling when I cross the finish line."

This year, I was smart enough to do things right, I trained harder and I surrounded myself with amazing people that helped me reach that goal.

Here's how the day unfolded:

From the instant the alarm clock sounded, every thing went 'according to the plan.' I managed to eat, digest, drink, pack the car and get both hubby and myself out of the door at exactly the right time.

We picked Charlie up, at exactly the agreed upon time.

We got to the race site and the temperature was already *up* to 38F at 7:00 a.m. - Charlie urged me to change in to shorts, and I reluctantly agreed with his logic. It was chilly waiting for the start, but it ended up being the perfect choice of clothing for the weather. As a bonus this year, I was treated to sunny skies instead of a steady down pour of rain.

We got to the portapotties with 40 minutes to go before gun time, and had to wait maybe 3 minutes in line. We walked around the park, trying to keep the blood flowing, and visiting with various adorable dogs (a little good-luck tradition I have is to visit with at least one doggy before a big race.)

We pushed our way in to the start area, and I welcomed the body heat of all the runners huddled together. There were the typical thanks-you's, National Anthem and prayer, plus special recognition given to one of our local runners, Bekkie Wright, who will be running 7 marathons in 8 days, joining Dean Karnazes!

The gun sounded and we were off!

Within the first half-mile, my watch starting beeping. I looked down and it wasn't receiving data from the foot pod...the foot pod with the *new* battery in it. Not. Working.

Oh. No.

Could I do the pacing 'old school' with just a stop watch? Would my pace be all over the place? Panic sets it...and just as I am adjusting my attitude...the watch starts working again.

Phew. Back on track.

The goal for the first 5K was to keep the pace at 9:00 m/m. I crossed the 5K line in 27:26, average pace 8:50. I blame the quicker pace on the cold weather, the downhill and the fact that I needed to pee.

Once we hit the 5K mark, I looked at Charlie and said 'Time to get to work. Up to 8:20's.' The only problem was there was still quite a crowd, and we were having a tough time manuevering around everyone. I didn't want to expend too much energy weaving and surging, but I was anxious to find my pace-groove and settle in. Once the half-marathoners split off from us, things cleared up and it was much easier to control the pace.

Mile 4 - unknown
Mile 5 - 8:11

I had warmed up enough to take my gloves off, and had them tucked in to my belt. I kept obsessing about whether or not I had lost them, and when I mentioned this to Charlie, he took the gloves and carried them for me.

Mile 6 - 8:13

One house had little kids playing their instruments in the front yard. I recall seeing a flute, a guitar and possibly a keyboard. They still need A LOT of practice, but you can't help but smile when kids are playing the Olympics anthem.

Mile 7 - 8:13

Jason appears at this point and made sure we're all gu'd up and hydrated. There were typical
comments from him about how fat I am, and how his grandmother can run faster than me. Heh.

Mile 8 - 8:09
Mile 9 - 8:02
Mile 10 - 8:07
Mile 11 - 8:08
Mile 12 - 8:43

Jason was waiting to swap bottles with me, and I totally missed him. Rather than turn back, Charlie offered to get the bottles for me, and doubled back to retrieve them. And I finally found a porta-potty with no line, no waiting, and took 22 seconds to take care of business.

Then Jason rode up along side of me and handed me the phone. I got to be one of those annoying runners who chats away on their phone while running in a race. I gave Coach a quick update, and pushed on.

Mile 13 - 8:09

I hear someone yell 'Hey Running Chick!' and look over my shoulder just in time to see a woman pass by...was it the Running Red Sox Fan?!

Mile 14 - 8:13
Mile 15 - 8:11

A Team in Training guy wearing a green fuzzy 'luck of the Irish' headband (Melisa! I thought of YOU!) falls in pace with us. His headband got A LOT of cheers, so it was nice to capitalize on the positive energy being thrown his way.

Mile 16 - 8:06

Where's Jason? He was supposed to be here. Is he OK? Did he crash the bike? Did he get a flat tire? Is he lost? Did he have a heart attack?

Mile 17 - 8:16
Mile 18 - 7:50

Caught some downhill and tried to get the legs to relax. Passed by the bagpipers, who fired up a new song just as we approached. Then passed a guy with 52.4 miles written on the back of his shirt - he was running the marathon course for the SECOND time today. As we passed by him, we came up on a woman with this written on her shirt: "$81 registration fee. 1 promise to my dad. 8-8-06 Miss You.'

I looked at Charlie and said 'I can't cry now, it's too early to start crying!' He gave me a stern "Focus, Dianna!' as I tried to shake it off.

Mile 19 - 8:07

Somewhere during this mile, there was a sign on a bridge for me, from the Running Chicks...It said 'The RBF 'Flips' for the Running Chick!' However, I totally missed it, as I was mesmerized by an incredibly good-looking spectator standing at the end of the bridge. And no, it wasn't my husband.

Mile 20 - 8:00

Across the timing mat (2:45:32) and there they are - the orange-shirted, oranged-hatted cheering section comprised of my parents, Michelle and April-Anne. How lucky am I? I give them my best smile and push on. Again, I'm wondering where Jason is, and I begin to worry even more...'Something happened and they didn't want to say anything and upset me.'

We push up the stupid, stupid hill. At the top, I am rewarded with one of my favorite Springsteen songs, Sunny Day. I sing at the top of lungs, even though I am beginning to not feel so good. (Charlie didn't even flinch when I started signing. That's a good friend.)

I eat the last gel of the day (four total).

Mile 21 - 8:00

The world gets quiet, as the runners are very spread out and everyone is fighting the demons. This part of the course has the first real hills of the day, and lots of turns through a residential area. There is no fun being had here...none whatsoever.

For the first time since the halfway point, we get passed by another runner. I quickly peek at his bib and congratulate myself when I notice that he's a relay runner with fresh legs.

Mile 22 - 7:53

The dark clouds are gathering at the edges of my mind. I'm using every trick I've got - repeating motivating things to myself: 'trust in the training'; 'you worked hard for this, don't give in now'; 'smooth and strong'; 'Sgt. Ely in Iraq'; 'make them all proud'.

Charlie has grown quiet too, with an occasional word of encouragement or a 'Head up!' reminder. We're working hard. At this point, I know I've got the BQ but I want to finish strong. I don't want to give in this time...I have to beat this stupid course once and for all, so I can move on to other marathons.

Mile 23 - 8:02

Tired. SooOOooo tired. And so sick to my stomach. Very, very close to letting go of all that fluid and all that Gu. Blech.

My lower back starts to ache...which means my form is falling apart.

Muscles are starting to cramp, especially the feet and the calves...which is new to me. I get sore, I get blisters...I don't cramp.

Mile 24 - 8:06

Jason appears finally, to my great relief. I think I mumbled three or four words to him, and then sent him on to the finish line. I didn't want him to see me suffering. His departing smile and thumbs up lifted my spirits just enough.

Mile 25 - 7:59

The Hill. That. Would. Not. End. This is the other side of the hill I had to push up after I crossed the 20-mile timing mat. A runner-friend Rich B. is cheering for Charlie and me as we pass by...he looks at his watch and says "Looks like you're going to Boston." I could not stop the huge smile that took over my face. Charlie told me to pretend that I had a rope tied to his waist and he was pulling me up the hill.

I just needed to get to the top of this hill so I could head down to the finish line. Allez!

Mile 26.2 - 9:38 (8:01 pace)

'I can do anything for one mile. I can run a mile in 6:13 if I really want to....or 7:00...maybe not today, maybe not right now...but right now, I *can* crest the hill, and fly down the other side to the finish line.'

The crowd support is awesome...and it was just what I needed to push through those last few steps, even as my body was begging me, with every ounce, to please. just. walk. already.

I look up, and the clock says 3:35:xx and I smile. I hear people yelling my name, and spot the Running Chicks cheering like crazy.

Official net time: 3:35:12, 10th in age division out of 83. Ten minutes faster than my BQ needed to be. And TWENTY-ONE minutes off of my PR from last year on the same course.

Holy. Crap.

As is typical, I start hyperventilating as soon as I stop running. Happens after every marathon. I'm so overwhelmed with emotion, by body forgets how to take oxygen in.

Aftermath:

There are hugs and smiles and photos at the finish line. I'm handed a phone to tell Coach the final results, trying not to cry and get all mushy. As I'm on the phone, my college roommate (from 1988) comes up to congratulate me - I haven't seen her in a couple of years, and there she is, saying 'You're going to Boston!'

The gang heads to the party-van while Jason walks me over to the massage tent. The lines are so long, we decide to head back to the van and I start to take off my shoes to walk barefoot...except my right calf muscle has other ideas.

As soon as my foot is out of the sneaker - BAM - the muscles balls up in to this tight little mass, and I have to sit down. In the wet grass. Jason tries to rub it, but I'm howling in pain. A medic comes over and manages to get the muscle untangled. He asks me if I want him to get me on to a massage table (I said no...I didn't want to cut in line!), then asks me if I'm dizzy and did I want to go to the medical tent? I said 'no, that's OK...my mom's a nurse and she's waiting at the car.' He made me walk around with him a bit to make sure I was really OK before he sent me on my way.

I hobble back to the party-van and we wrap up the day sipping champagne (thanks Michelle!) and swapping stories about the race. I could not have put together a more satisfying day, nor could I have asked for a more amazing race-day crew, with special thanks to Charlie for running every step of the way with me.

Everything went even better than 'according to the plan' because I didn't plan it alone.

Thank. You.

Blogcast by Jeff:

Well, today is the day; Flipper's big race. Her first (and most likely successful) attempt at a Boston qualifier. Flipper approached me earlier this year, after I'd scored my own BQ, and asked if I'd be willing to coach her to her own BQ. Since I'd been considering coaching, I agreed to take her on as a client and be my guinea pig as I worked out my training philosophy. And all I can say is that she's been a model client. Sure she's had her share of hurdles; injuries, time constraints and sickness, but her work ethic and drive has been the key to her arriving at this place healthy, motivated and strong.

Today, we see a changed Flipperhead. One able to tackle virtually any insane workout I throw at her and one confident in her amazing ability. Not only has she changed, but she has helped me redefine what a real coach/client relationship should be like. I was looking back at her BTT stats the other day and couldn't help but smile when I saw the huge change in her pace and mileage. She's put in the work and she's more than ready to rock this race today.

So join me today as we cheer one of the blogospheres most supportive, talented and cheerful runners as she stomps all over the 2006 Hartford Marathon. She's ready, she's motivated and she's HUGE.

Smooth and strong, my friend. Smooth and strong.

And now, on to the race!

First update: Jason just called, saying that Flipper had a clean start and that the weather is absolutely perfect. Good news and a good start!

Latest update from Jason somewhere between 7 and 8; Flipper is looking strong and right on pace. Apparently, Charlie, her running buddy and pacer for today, had to reign her in a bit. Flipper, what did we say about starting slow? Did I mention that she can be stubborn sometimes? Haha. Next update should come from Jason around mile 12.

Jason called with the update from 12. Flipper was still looking strong and on pace, although Charlie had to double back to get her bottles. Jason handed her the phone and she said, 'I passed 20k in 1:43 and I'm not having fun.', which for Flipper means thst she's very focused on the task at hand. And that is good news.

As far as weather goes, it was a little warmer at the start than we thought it would be, and that tipped the scales in favor of shorts over tights. I'm glad for that, since tights might have ended up being a tad too warm.

I think I sucked all the foul weather to my side of to country. I woke up last night with pouring rain and a crazy thunderstorm crashing down on my tent. And then woke this morning to a fresh coat of snow over everything. Glad I got it rather than Flipper!

Bleh...here I was, thinking I was all high tech and doing all this blogcasting from my phone but Blogger started rejecting my posts, so I had to track down an internet cafe in Bishop. So much for the blogcast from my tent. Hah. Still waiting for an update from Jason at mile 16.

Looks like she might have passed Jason at 16 without him seeing her. He's riding up the course in an attempt to catch up to her. If he doesn't catch her before 20, the next update should come from the Running Chicks, who are somewhere around 20 waiting to cheer her on.

WOOHOO! Just got a call from Michelle (one of the Running Chicks) at mile 20. It was 2:48 by her watch when she went past, she was looking strong and had a huge smile on her face. Charlie was still with her, which means that she won't be doing the last 10k solo and will have a fast runner to pull her in. With six miles to go and having had her train to finish fast and hard on all of her long runs, I can only imagine how fast she's going to bring this thing home. For those of you who've run these things before, you know that the true race starts at this point. Having her cross 20 with that kind of energy and support really bodes well for a good solid race. Could there be a 3:30 finish ahead? Stay tuned!

While we wait for the update from either Jason on the course or Michelle/April Anne at the finish line, I'll clue you in as to where the name Flipperhead came from. That way, you can all use the name when you talk to her. She said that nicknames never stick to her, so I'm doing my best to see to it that she's known by nothing else. So, in my family, virtually everyone has a 'head' name. My wife, smsmh (supermodelsexymommahead), my sister, bfbh (bananafishbonehead), my niece, jjh (jumpingjehosephathead), and so on. As Dianna became more like a little sister than just a client/aquaintance, it became obvious that she needed to be bestowed with a 'head' name as well. So, after one particuarly stellar swim workout, I made the comment about how she was swimming like Flipper. Flipper. Flipper. Flipperhead. It just ROLLS off the tongue. So, Dianna's 'head' name was born and I don't think I've ever called her anything since...well, maybe a few choice four letter words when she wanted to run things at HER pace...[Flipper, you KNOW I jest].

Next up, the update from the finish!

Jason just called again, at 3:16 into the race asking which mile she should be at. At that time, she should be somewhere around mile 24. She's moving so fast that Jason can't catch up to her on the bike. GOOO FLIPPER!

3:24 into the race and Jason caught her just before mile 25. Charlie is still with her and he said she still looks good. She's not talking much, but she seems focused. Impressive, to say the least. At this pace, she should come screaming across the finish under 3:35. Amazing. Just amazing.

Okay folks. Time to celebrate. Flipperhead crossed the finish with a clock time of 3:36. People...she got her Boston Qualifier. Tears of joy...seriously, tears of joy. Jason will find her in the crowd and put her on the phone shortly.

Just got off the phone with Flipper and she said that she had a chip time of 3:35 and change, a tad over 10 minutes under what she needed for her Boston Qualifier. She was excited, couldn't believe what she'd just done and was feeling pretty good. She said that she especially DID NOT HAVE FUN during the last 10k, but that's the point, right? She stayed right on pace and ran about 2-3 minutes under what we had on her pace band. She's off to get a massage and then she's heading home to register for a certain race in April.

Congratulations, Flipperhead. You did it!

The amazing thing about a marathon is not only the amount of strength it takes to get to the finish line, but the amount of support that happens ‘behind the scenes.’ As I embark on this challenging task for the third time in my short running ‘career,’ I’d like to take a moment to thank some of the people who have quietly urged me on from the wings. Without these folks, I certainly would have missed curtain time and forgotten all my lines.

Jason

To the man who has eaten countless pounds of pasta with me every single Friday night for the past 8 months with little complaint; rubbed my legs when I was in tears; brought me ice and Advil with just the right mix of sympathy and admonishment; and who will ride his bike 20 miles so he can hand me three little bottle of fluids tomorrow – Thank you for saying ‘I told you so’ with nothing but sweetness and admiration in your voice. I’m a lucky runner to have such a supportive spouse, and I hope I never take you for granted.

Coach

To the man who set the bar a little higher than I thought I could reach, completely believing that I could reach it; for always pushing me just the right amount in training; listening to all my rants about everything – even gross girly stuff; and always making me laugh – Thank you for your unwavering faith in me.

The 'Rents

Remember, it is your strength that set the stage for me. You have shown me that I can overcome incredible obstacles if I’m stubborn enough, strong enough and surrounded by people that love me and want to see me succeed. I hope I make you half as proud of me as I am of you. Thank you for never letting me say 'I can't.'

The Running Chicks, The Swimming Chicks and WAC

To the original, incredibly sweet, Running Chicks, April-Anne and Michelle, for always getting me out the door and keeping me entertained; for looking out for me and always knowing exactly what I need; for letting me be more than a just a runner-friend – Thank you for including me in your lives. And to the enthusiastic Swimming Chicks (Tri Chicks?) for getting me in to the pool and off of my legs; for wrapping me in your warm personalities – Thank you for helping me become more than a runner. And to WAC – Thank you for showing me the treasure of the early morning run, and for teaching me the value of circling back to bring everyone home together. (And to Charlie, for running the marathon as a training run so I’ll have some company!)

PT-Guy

To the man who fixed my ITB and asked me to stop running for only two weeks; who showed me the value of stretching, strength-training, and best of all, massage; and who inspired me to change careers and follow my happiness – Thank you for healing me, in more ways than one.

The RBF

It would be impossible to name all the names. You know who you are…your comments and emails mean more than you will ever know. I have mentally called upon the RBF to get me through a tough moment on many occasions. Thank you for always inspiring me and for cheering me on.

Smooth and strong, all the way to the finish line.

**Stay tuned tomorrow, for live updates fed to the blog from my Coach! Race start time: Saturday October 14 at 8:00 a.m. EST**

Approximately 38 weeks ago, I decided it was time for a change. Time to stop traveling the Easy Path, and time to charge down the Hard Road - a Road I had assumed wasn’t open to me, a Road that I wasn’t strong enough for.

I could not have been more wrong.

The Hard Road was waiting for me. And as I rounded each bend, the Road welcomed me and invited me to explore further. So I did. Even when it hurt, I’d forge on ahead. I left my fears behind. I let them fall away with each toe-off, pushing them deep into the ground.

Now, here I am…poised at the edge of the last big corner, wondering what I’ll find as I come around the other side and step over the start line for my third marathon.

I do know this much – things will be different this time over that line.

Here are the reasons why:

I got a coach.

This has been the very best thing I have ever done for my running and for myself. I knew I needed to get the next level if I wanted to reach my Boston Qualifying time (3:45) and I knew I couldn’t do it alone. Sure, I could have done some research and come up with a training plan, but I needed more than just numbers. I needed to be accountable to someone else…someone that was investing their time and energy into me. Plus, I’m a people-pleaser. I am motivated by making other people happy. So a coach was the perfect solution, especially since my coach also happened to be a good friend (and now, a close friend).

Having a coach meant finally doing speed work. I have always hated speed work. Even figuring out what all the numbers (8-10x800@3:30-3:35…what. is. that?) meant seemed like a lot of work…let alone doing the actual running part. But you know what? Speed work has played a big part in my improvement. It still sucks, it's still hard, but it’s proven to be a necessary evil and a huge confidence booster.

I got physical therapy.

Believe it or not, as I was starting this journey 38 weeks ago, I had just started physical therapy for an ilio-tibial band ‘issue’ that cropped up after my last marathon. I learned a lot from that experience. Stretching has become part of my routine, so much so that I now take yoga classes. I try to get a massage every 6 weeks or so. And I now own not one, but two foam rollers. Thanks to a link from Jennifer, I even found a way to use my foam rollers to better target the pressure points. Damn, it hurts. But damn, it works.

(Confession: I’m supposed to be strength training too…but that piece kinda got lost in the shuffle. I promise it will get added back in now that the marathon journey is wrapping up for the year. I'm not perfect. It's true.)

I gave up sleeping in late on weekends.

I have been fortunate to have two awesome running partners supporting me for the past two years. In addition to Michelle and April-Anne, I also had access to members of the Willimantic Athletic Club. They run together most Saturday mornings, at 6:30 a.m. “No way!” I would cry, “I’ll never get up that early on a Saturday. Damn crazy people.” But since I was getting up early to train during the week, I figured “What’s one more day?”

The WAC runners have been awesome *to* me and *for* me. They got me back on the trails and kept me at a reasonable pace at the start of my long runs. They took me on new routes. They welcomed me in to their group and made me feel like I belonged. As an added bonus, my running partners joined in too. Runner-friends make me happy.

I cross-trained.

Even if I hadn’t been training for a sprint triathlon this summer, I still would have gone swimming and cycling. Not only was it a welcome change of scenery, but it allowed me to ‘actively’ rest some muscles, while still building my aerobic endurance.

I got a Fuel Belt.

This was a suggestion from my coach…and one that I resisted for a long time. I was certain that I would hate the belt, that it would feel heavy and bouncy and annoying. I was wrong. It’s been perfect for me. I no longer have to carry my Gatorade bottle in my hand for 26.2 miles – sah-weet.

The big question now: will it all work?

I think it will. All the hard work has made me a stronger, smarter runner.

And that, my friends, will make all the difference.

The marathon is a mere 5 days away. I'm feeling pretty good about it. Three weeks ago, my confidence was beginning to build, as evident in this IM (Instant Messanger) conversation with my coach:

runningchick: i was checking out the course elevation for hartford...

runningchick: and it doesn't seem as scary as it did last year.

runningchick: because

runningchick: those hills are PUNY

runningchick: and i am HUGE

coach: okay. you need to blog that statement.

coach: gulliver.

runningchick: i was thinking...Hans. Or Franz.

coach: you'll be running the liliputian marathon

runningchick: ha!

runningchick: the girlymanathon.

coach: ROFL

runningchick: (i crack me up)

This makes complete sense to me:

You would think that with 10 days to go until The Marathon, I would have some free time to entertain you with my literary genius.

Alas, I have neither free time nor genius. Just taper-madness paranoia.

But! I do have a link to my latest article at Complete Running!

You Always Remember Your First

And, if you'd like to read a race report that incorporates all my sagely advice, check out Joe's Portland Marathon report. It wasn't his first marathon, but it's a great read and he's a perfect role model.

That's it. That's all you get for now, cuz that's all I got.

Hopefully, I'll be back to dazzling you with my word-wizardry by the weekend!