The Boston Marathon has never been a big goal of mine.  If there’s any race I have dreamed of qualifying for, it would be Kona.  But after last year’s attack at the marathon, I, like many, dreamed of what it would be like to run it.  It didn’t take much (if any) convincing of my sister Nora to train with me for that goal.  As the Philly marathon approached, I could not have had greater anticipation for a  race if I tried.   I was feeling very anxious about trying to hit a new PR, qualify for Boston and I was anxious for my athletes  in the race, including Nora.  I tried very hard to let go of that pre-race anxiety but some of it stuck with me until the bitter end.

Race morning was pretty easy:   Alarm went off when it should;  Left the house on time;  Found parking fairly easily (after driving the wrong way down a one way street – oops);  Got to use the porta potties without any line;  Watched the SNL skit about more cowbell while waiting.  Then things got real.  We lined up in our corral, I hugged Jeanne goodbye (and almost cried) and waited for the start.


There was no music because of some noise ordinance so it some ways, it was anti-climactic.  We shuffled forward, we passed the starting line, we started our watches and we were off.

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