In the past 5 months, there has been little free time for me to just sit, read and truly enjoy my favorite blogs. My former habit of ferocious devouring of blogs had dwindled to a mere nibble here and there. I went from reading every single word and commenting constantly, to only being able to skim through the posts, slowing down occasionally when something caught my attention.

It's been torture.

However, today I had some time to really sink my teeth in, and savor the experience. And as fate would have it, I was rewarded with an amazing post from Donald. Please go read it...it will make you giggle...your heart will swell...and you might even get a little misty eyed. I'd definitely place this on my list of favorite posts ever. It's worth every minute.

(*No, I haven't run yet. In the past 20 days, I've run once. Four miles. And...in the land of happy news...jeff and smsmh will become PARENTS today! Now go read Donald's post already. What are you waiting for?)

Long time readers might recall that my first three marathons were all run on the same course - the Hartford Marathon, in Hartford, Connecticut. These same readers might also recall that I had a real bone to pick with that course. The first 20 miles are all fun and flat...and then BAM! Mile 20 runs up 'Asylum Street' which might as well be named Insanity Hill. Admittedly, it's not a series of climbs like Boston, but still. It's there. It's Mile 20 and it only leads to more pain with twists, turns and noticeable inclines.

In an article in New England Runner from 2001, the last miles of Hartford were described by winner Reuben Chesang as follow: "I know what part is hard, which part is easy. The finish is hard. I find it hilly with a lot of corners."

The Winner. A Kenyan. Said that.

The 2006 race brochure states that "first loop (19 miles) is mostly flat as it travels along the Connecticut River in East Hartford and South Windsor. The course returns to the city at mile 20 and begins the second loop through Hartford's west end lined with restored Victorian homes and heads back to a downhill finish through the magnificent Memorial Arch at Bushnell Park." It's like reading a real estate ad, where 'cozy' means 'small.' If you weren't paying attention, they don't mention the hills or turns...except to say there's a downhill finish...which an observant reader would be able to logically conclude that there was an uphill climb prior to the downhill. But that's neither here nor there.

Imagine my response to the description of the NEW UPDATED course for the 2007 Hartford Marathon: "The first loop (19 miles) is mostly flat as it travels along the Connecticut River in East Hartford and South Windsor. The course returns to the city at mile 20 and heads through Hartford's new riverfront trail system - wide, flat, scenic to the finish..."

Great. Thanks, guys. That's awesome. Seriously, thank goodness that I ran the 'old' course three times, and earned bragging rights for surviving it. Now I can just scoff at the runners who run the new course, and mumble "I ran it when it had hills."

Yeah. Because that will make me feel better.

(Almost as good as STILL not being able to run since my patience did NOT pay off and I'm back on the bench. Grrrrr.)

In case you were under the impression that I live a charmed life, I thought I should divulge the fact that I've managed to injury my hamstring.

I was easing back in to running following the marathon, with low mileage and just a few days a week on the schedule. Last Tuesday morning, I went running and everything seemed normal. A few hours later, I bent over to pick something up off the floor and felt a twinge in my hamstring. I remember thinking "Ouch!" when it happened, but forgot about the incident. The following day, my leg felt a little stiff and sore, but I assumed it was from yoga.

Then on Thursday, I went out for a 4-miler in the morning. It was a little colder than I anticipated, and I instantly regretted my choice of shorts. Two miles in to the run, and the hamstring started to ache. By the end of the run, the ache had begun to flirt with the "pain" level, and I was so grateful to be done.

By Friday morning, I was walking stiff-legged, unable to bend my knee without feeling a large amount of discomfort. After conferring with one of my professors, who happens to be a physical therapist, we determined that I had mostly likely strained my hamstring. She prescribed 7 days of rest, lots of stretching, friction massage and ice. The stretching and 'rest' part were easy enough to comply with...I wasn't such a good patiend about the massage and ice.

It's been a full 7 days of rest...and I don't quite feel like I'm fully healed. My plan is to wait until Sunday before I even attempt anything rigorous like biking, or quite possibly, running. Surprisingly, I've been handling the lack of running without much mental anguish. Don't get me wrong...I miss running, and I'm starting to feel lumpy...but it's been nice to have some time apart. Learn to appreciate each other again. Not take one another for granted.

Hopefully, my patience pays off.

I had an amazing experience at Boston, but I certainly did not arrive there alone, nor did I cross the finish line alone – literally or figuratively. Upholding my post-marathon tradition, I’d like to take some time to recognize those folks that were kind enough to support me on my latest journey.

With each marathon, more and more of my “virtual friends” (‘imaginary friends,’ to some) step-up and offer me limitless encouragement and guidance. This time around was no different. In the days leading up to the marathon, I received numerous emails and comments from my running family members, sending me good wishes and good vibes. Every single one of them made me smile, and boosted my spirits.

My two running families – the Running Blog Family and the Willimantic Athletic Club – provided me with an endless stream of support in the form of running partners, cheerleaders, photographers, race day support, a blogcaster and a coach. Make no mistake – the bulk of my motivation to ‘get out there’ was based on all the people who were rooting for me. Without all of you, I would have gotten a lot more sleep but I would have missed out on an amazing journey. The greatest part of all of this support has been the hidden gem of friendship that I keep discovering.

Of course, my non-running family also stood beside me through the whole process – training, qualifying, training some more. I’m certain that my husband will be happy to never have to eat pasta on a Friday night again for the rest of his life.

Here are just a handful of those individuals who made the day 1) possible and 2) perfect and 3) unforgettable:

The Blogcaster: Runner Susan was the PERFECT blogcaster for us. She graciously cleared her schedule and made us feel like celebrities. My dad was following along on my blog from his house in Tucson, and he was just thrilled with the updates. He even told me to say ‘Thank you’ the next time I saw Susan. (You know, since we get to see each other in person, and hang out all the time. Heh. I explained to him that we live about 2,000 miles apart.)

The Race Crew: The whole crew was out on the course, dressed in all their layers and rain gear, waving signs, and braving weather that was worse for them than for us. Jeanne made the horrendous trek up from DC, just to watch us run past her at mile 6.6., then again at mile 26. Post-race, we were only able to chat for about ten minutes before our bittersweet parting (That’s some serious RBF dedication right there!) The ‘Running Chick Marathon’ die-hards and fellow RBFers, Michelle and April-Anne, were also on hand, phoning in reports to Susan and keeping the race crew moving towards Boston with smiles on their faces. It was like having my own personal cheer squad out there, except without the pom-poms. (And to Annalisa and the others that were out there cheering for us even though we didn't see you - THANK YOU!)

Of course, my mom, stepfather and husband were also there. These are the people that truly bear the brunt of my training – listening to me whine about sore muscles, sleep deprivation and cold weather. Not only do they manage to keep my spirits up for months on end, but they never even flinch when I ask them to come stand outside for hours, just to watch me pass by 10 seconds. Maybe they know that having them out there is what drives me towards the finish line. Their faith in me gives me faith in myself, especially during those moments when it feels like I cannot take another single step.

The Training Partner: Over the cold, dark winter months, training partners can be hard to come by – especially when you say things like “I have five 20-milers on my schedule over the next three months – wanna run together?” But Charlie was there for just about every single long run. In the wee hours of a Saturday or Sunday morning, we’d set off together, perfectly paced and manage to find plenty to talk about. When I was having a bad day, he’d pull me through; when he was having a bad day, I always had tissues for that emergency stop in the woods. This is the same guy who made sure I made my BQ time in Hartford in October. I’m not sure I would have made it through all those long runs in the middle of February if I had to go it alone.

The Coach: This one almost leaves me speechless. Seriously, the morning I said goodbye to him after the marathon…I was so overwhelmed by all the things I wanted to say…all I could say manage to mumble was “Thanks.” That just seems so inadequate. How could I possibly find the words to truly thank jeff for everything he’s done over the past 16 months? He has guided me along every step of this journey – with weekly workout schedules and endless pep talks. He has talked me down off the ledge more than once. He was always understanding when I had an ‘off’ week, and made adjustments accordingly. I was treated as a whole person, and not just a runner. As if that wasn’t enough…he ran the marathon, step by step with me, sacrificing his own chance to run his own Boston. His compassion, generous spirit, sense of humor, and warm heart make him a perfect coach, but an even better friend (and, he’s going to be an amazing dad too!).

I often wonder why I am so blessed to have all these incredible people in my life. I can only hope that I can somehow repay the kindness or pass it forward to someone else. Feeling this loved is not a feeling to keep to oneself.