Mile 2: “The Will To Prepare.”

“The will to win is nothing without the will to prepare.”Juma Ikangaa

Wise words. Juma is a marathon runner from Tanzania known mostly for winning the 1989 New York City Marathon in a course-record time of 02:08:01. He, also, went on to compete in the Boston Marathon several times, finishing twice in second place. I think this man knows what he is talking about.

Looking back upon my own goals and how I went about accomplishing them, speaks volumes, as well.

For the Pittsburgh Marathon 2014, I ultimately just wanted to finish the race. By “finish”, I mean with no walk breaks and a respectable course time of under 4:30:00. (What can I say? I am very competitive with myself.)

Pittsburgh is not an “easy” course and is known for its hills, especially in the back half. This was my first full marathon and I had no idea what it was like to run more than 13.1 miles. I took this endeavor very seriously. I trained faithfully, 6 days a week, sometimes twice a day. I ran, I lifted weights, I stretched and did yoga. I counted calories, fat, vital nutrients, and glasses of water. I steered clear of alcohol, eating out, and parties that might tempt me to indulge. I struggled with nutrition and hydration while performing long training runs and experienced stomach cramps, nausea and vomiting. This was my biggest road block in training. I would hit my “wall” around 18 miles because I had nothing left to draw energy from. However, by race day, I nailed it. There was ONE flavor of GU that sat well with me and the trick to drinking water was to force small, frequent sips, rather than wait till I desperately needed to rehydrate. So, on race day, when mile 18 came along, I breezed right through it. Things got tough in mile 23 and 24 and, by mile 25, my mental game (or lack thereof) fell. I took my first walking step across that 25th Mile mark. I stopped and took a picture of it. At that moment, every muscle in my feet, legs, butt, and even my back seized up and began to spasm and cramp up painfully. It took me well over 20 minutes to cover the final 1.20 miles. I somehow managed a painfully stiff running stride by the 26th mile mark and the final .20 is all a blur. (The pictures are not pretty, either!) I completed the marathon with a course time of 04:37:36…and my personal failure at Mile 25 has haunted me ever since. (Without it, my time would have been around 4:27:00.) The picture of Mile 25 has been the screensaver on my phone ever since and will remain there until I return to the Pittsburgh Marathon on May 7, 2017 and “MAKE MILE 25 MY B*TCH”!

Fast forward to the Pittsburgh Half Marathon in 2015. My goal for this race was to break the 2-hour mark. I turned my training over to a friend for coaching. He is a local elite runner with a reputation for speed and a long recorded history of race times to back it up. I, however, was easily distracted during this time with personal/family issues and the long awaited adoption and introduction of our greyhound, Runner, into our life and home. My will to prepare was compromised many times over and called out frequently by my Coach with the simple message to “GO RUN!”.

On race day, it was, literally, my will to win that showed up and, thankfully for me, it was a will of pure steel! I struggled to hold back the pace in the first 3 miles, surging and dodging the shoulder to shoulder wall of runners, but by the 6th mile I was feeling the lead in my legs. In mile 9, I almost lost sight of my Coach who was running this race alongside me. At mile 10, I grabbed onto his arm and begged for him to let me “draft” on him awhile. Mile 11 and 12 were pure agony and humiliation as I struggled to keep up and I lost control of my bladder – something that has never happened to me before or since. By the 13th mile, he started yelling that I was “making this REAL INTERESTING” and that I had just 40 seconds to close the gap in that final 1/10 of a mile or my goal was lost. I was running on fumes. I could hardly see a thing. My vision was blurry and sounds were echoing profoundly as my ears were ringing and I struggled to breathe. I surged ahead with every bit of guts I had left in me. We crossed the line and I heard him screaming. My legs would not hold me up any longer and everything went black. I am not sure how much time passed while I was in medical but, when I was finally able to stand up and walk without holding onto something to keep from falling off the face of the earth, I exited the medical tent to find my Coach waiting for me with the news. We had succeeded. Our time? 01:59:56! This was such a relief…but in all honesty, I deserved the pain of that race. Goals must be taken seriously. Success in running is always earned, never given. This race taught me the hard way to respect the training, honor the commitment, and to cherish the results. It does make me wonder, however, how much better could I have performed with a stronger, more consistent commitment to my training?

By the end of 2015, Joe and I had become such good friends and he took a great deal of interest in my goal to complete the J.C. Stone 50K Ultramarathon. He took over my training, sending me workouts weekly; adjusted according to my work schedule, progress, and physical well being. The goal for this race had absolutely nothing to do with speed at the time. The goal here was to simply conquer the distance, not race the clock. This alleviated a lot of pressure and stress from my mind.

On March 19, 2016, Joe and I set out on the course together with him pulling me back and reigning in my pace multiple times in the first 10 miles. By the 15-20 mile mark we had found our groove and were conversing easily about life experiences, lessons learned, running, and future goals. By miles 22-26 it was time for Joe to break out his iron will. He considers walking in endurance racing a “disease” and told me not to succumb to “the disease”, as I argued that the people ahead of us that had stopped to walk were simply “recharging their batteries”. I know better though. Joe is right. At that point in an endurance run, the perceived “need” to walk really is a “disease of the mind”. It is a mental weakness, a crutch. If you are fit enough to run 31.1 miles and you are not ill or injured, there is absolutely no NEED to walk at any point. Somewhere in the next few miles, our conversation turned to family and he gracefully switched his role in my life from “running friend/acquaintance” to a friend closer than family, now calling me his “daughter”. Shortly after this though, things got really tough. “I’m not about to let you feel sorry for yourself right now.”, he said to me as tears streamed down my face in the 29th mile. I told him I just needed a moment and so we ran in silence up “victory hill”, as he calls it. (On the previous 5 loops when we ran that hill I repeatedly said: “Have I told you lately how much I HATE THIS HILL?!”) Around mile 30, he said “Would you look at that…victory is upon us!” and pointed my attention to our left as we crested the hill and began the final downhill mile toward the finish line. The view from the top was beautiful; looking down across the lake at the boathouse. I struggled more in that final mile than I had the entire race but with “TheRocketMan” by my side, I pushed through. When we started the race, we were informed that the course time limit was 8 hours but that it is not strictly enforced. I had told Joe that, while my ultimate goal was really just to finish, I really wanted to finish in under 6 hours. I would have loved to have come close to 5:30:00, but with the lack of speed training and a recent onset of acute tendinitis in my left ankle, I knew that was not possible. So as we ran the homestretch, toward the completion of our 31.1 mile running adventure together, we held hands and lifted our arms, “soaring” across the finish line with a time of 5:53:33. We had succeeded! It was the most beautifully painful and glorious moment of my running life, thus far. I say “thus far” because we have now (officially) set our sights on “BOSTON”.

I have found a lifelong friend, mentor, coach, and family member in Joe and he now sees my dreams as if they are his own. He believes in me and seems intent upon making certain that I succeed…so much that he is willing to run with me until I do, and then run alongside me, start to finish, in Boston, as well.

This brings me to look closer at myself; where I am now, in regards to where I need to and hope to be a year from now.

How am I going to get there?

Running double digit long distances in the 9:50-10:00/mile range to running a marathon in the 8:00-8:12/mile range is an enormous amount of progression. Which brings me to question if I can even do this… and this is the exact reason as to why I have to try. Nothing is impossible. Everything that I have accomplished in running has proven that to me. I refuse to believe that this can not be done. Truth be told, I might fall short multiple times, but I will certainly never get there if I never even try. So this week has been spent in browsing and brainstorming training plans and discussing our strategy and race choices with Joe. After taking multiple training plans and integrating them into one, I have finally produced a day by day log of what I need to do and when. Every workout is laid out in a handwritten planner/book for me, everyday, for the next 12 months. It will be difficult, I realize this, but it will be worth it a year from now when I am standing at that start line, next to Joe, and honestly feel like I belong there, attempting to earn my right to run Boston.

So here goes everything. “Train hard, race easy” is our plan. With a lot of time spent running miles, pouring sweat, and summoning up nerves of STEEL, I hope to one day “soar” across that finish line with all the heart I have left in me and all the strength I have left in my legs and hear Joe say: “DID YOU SEE THE CLOCK?! WE ARE GOING TO BOSTON!”.

“The 1st Mile-Where it all begins.”

The road to Boston will be long…and I am sure there will be several stories along the way that I will have to share with all of you. For now though, as we begin this journey together, I figured I would share a little bit of background information on myself and where I am from. The following is an edited version of a blog interview that I submitted, upon request, to a friend of mine, whom I had met within a Facebook running group a couple of years ago.

I grew up in a very strict, religious home. There was so much that I was not allowed to do… Ok-pretty much NOTHING that I was allowed to do. No school sports, dances, or parties outside of our church. Not even college, at that time. All such things were against my parent’s religious beliefs in some way or another; or it would require time (outside of regular, necessary school hours) around “worldly people” that they considered to be “bad association” – people not of my parent’s religion. I, naturally, gravitated towards gymnastics as my first passion. (Nadia Comaneci was my hero!) And, for a short time, my parents indulged me- I spent one full, glorious summer going to a gymnastics class every Wednesday night for 30 minutes. I was roughly, 11 years old at this time. I had taught myself several tricks, and within just a few classes, my coaches approached my parents for consent to place me on their competitive Gym Team. My parents refused, stating that this would violate our religious beliefs to remain neutral, politically and patriotically. Being on the Gym Team would require me to wear the American Flag on my uniform, stand for the National Anthem, compete for my team, and, in the event that I became one of the elite few to progress to the Olympics, then for my country. Needless to say, I was not allowed to continue professional classes beyond that year. 

By the time I was in High School, I had many doubts that their religion was what I wanted or even believed in, but as their minor child, living under their roof, and not having the guts to stand up for myself, I “played by their rules”. I was full of the usual teenage angst & since there was not much else that I was “allowed” to do, I started running. We lived in the country at that time and I would set out from our house, running all the roads, ridges, and trails in the woods within a 10 mile radius. This let me blow off a lot of steam and get away from my family’s judgmental ways. Pretty much the only life path that was not frowned upon was that of getting married, having children, and supporting myself with a simple job that did not get in the way of the religion’s meetings,  which were scheduled 3 times per week. So, as I graduated High School and turned 18, I immediately married my “first love”, whom I had met when I was just 14 years old. I became pregnant within a year, and at the age of 19, became a mother, myself. Over the next few years, I worked a few minimum wage paying jobs, played house, and questioned my life and all of my decisions. Running fell by the wayside, as I now had a family to help support and bills to pay. 

In 2002, I was hired at Medic Rescue Ambulance and immediately enrolled in the EMT program. This job was such a rush and I loved it. Several months later, I enrolled in the Paramedic program. During this time, I never ran. My marriage was on the rocks, held together only for the sake of our young daughter, and I was contemplating leaving the religion. By the age of 25, I had left the religion, moved out on my own, filed for divorce, and was struggling to survive, having never been on my own before. I was working four jobs, going to school two nights a week, and juggling my daughter on just a few hours of sleep every other night. In leaving this religion, I was now “ex-communicated” from all of my family and former friends. Within a few difficult years, I was finally able to establish myself as a full-time paramedic at Medic Rescue and part-time at a neighboring ambulance service. My daughter was adjusting well to the divorce and was excelling at school. I had met my current husband and was now seeing him regularly. He was/is involved in a lot of different activities between work and sports. (I.e.: reffing of high school basketball and football, as well as, college football) My daughter was spending 3-4 days a week with us and the other 3-4 days with her dad and stepmom, so this left me with a fair amount of “alone” time when my husband was working or reffing a game. I began to notice how heavy and out of shape I had become from all the years of stress and simply “surviving” on whatever amount of food and sleep I could get whenever and wherever I could get it. I had times when I missed my family terribly or when I literally wanted to scream in frustration over issues co-parenting my daughter with people of that same religion. I started running again. Just a little. Walk/run intervals.

In 2009, a friend, who I admired for her running/racing passion, asked me to join her at a 5K race. I was hesitant, but I did it anyway. It was miserable. I was hungover the day of, I was still overweight for my frame so I wore long pants despite the 80 degree heat, and I had on terrible fitting, worn out shoes that were not designed for the sport of running. It took me nearly 37 minutes to finish that race. I was so embarrassed, but strangely exhilarated by the supportive atmosphere that these runners, walkers, and volunteers engulfed me in. 

I began to sign up for more 5K races and started running more often so that I could better my finish time. It took months to finally run the entire race without any walk breaks and then to finish with a time in under 30 minutes, but I did it and, in doing so, earned my very first race medal! From that moment on, I was hooked. I started running to try and beat my time by even just a few seconds each race. I started to win a few more medals. I was in my glory. But I still wasn’t running very far or tracking my calorie intake, so I was not losing the weight. 

I joined a friend’s Facebook group, “Keep Calm & Run On”, and was inspired by my newfound running friends with all of their posts and race plans. I began to dream of running the half marathon in Pittsburgh. My proposal of this, inspired a few others in the group to work toward this goal, as well. In the meantime, however, I became sidetracked by a promotion at work which took up almost all of my time and energy for the next nine months. 

On the morning of May 6, 2012, I awoke late after sleeping in (again!) to see the half marathon posts and finish line photos of all these inspiring women who had taken my idea and run with it, (LITERALLY), sticking to their plans and goals to finish the Pittsburgh Half Marathon. I have never felt so low or so down on myself as I did that day. Prior to this moment, I had always been a self-motivated, self-disciplined person who stuck to and achieved every goal I’d ever set before myself! I went out for a run that day. Nearly 4miles. It was hard. It hurt. I nearly threw up. But I vowed to NEVER let myself down like that again. 

I set my sights on the Pittsburgh Half Marathon 2013. I started running regularly again, began cross-training and tracking my diet faithfully. I ran several small races: 5K-5miles. I lost 40 lbs in the next few months and, on May 5, 2013, I completed the Pittsburgh Half Marathon in 02:06:57. I have never felt so proud of myself. Running had become my passion; my stress relief after a long day or an upsetting encounter, my way to relax – pound it out on the pavement and return home a more patient, refreshed, open-minded person, employee, mother, wife, or friend. I vowed to never, ever stop running! 

In the weeks after my first half marathon, I began to contemplate the idea of running the full marathon. After everything I have been through, I realized that there was so much of life that I had missed out on because of my upbringing. I have a lot of regrets and, at times, a lot of bitterness. I’d do anything for a “do-over”- to go back and live my life again from the tender age of 16, knowing all that I know now. Running has given me an outlet to “run out” or “burn off” the negative feelings that sometimes arise in me. 

I began to write my “Bucket List” – a few things that I desire to do or experience before I die. “Run A Marathon” was definitely on this list. Following many weeks and months of training, I finally achieved my goal. 

On May 4, 2014 I completed all TWENTY-SIX-POINT-FREAKING-TWO miles of The Pittsburgh Marathon. My official time: 04:37:36. 

In training for this momentous event, I had experienced many doubts. The magnitude of this bucket-list item scared me – at times, overwhelmed me. After running the half and then browsing training plans for the full, I realized the magnitude of this venture and the level of dedication and sacrifice that this was going to take. I knew it was going to be physically and mentally exhausting and, at times, even painful. I, also, knew the risks and how careful I would need to be with strict planning, careful eating to fuel my body, and ensuring adequate rest to avoid injury. My day job is very physical, as well, and I can not afford to get hurt or lose any time or loss of pay at work. I thought endlessly about these things and finally decided that I would never be satisfied until I took on and conquered this great challenge. I made up my mind to do it and when registration opened, I signed up. 

A friend once asked me what kind of “support system” I have in my life, in regards to my running. As almost every runner knows, running is a very independent sport. So when I am faced with such challenges, I am my own main support system. Sad as it is to say, my life experience has shown me truth in such quotes as: “The only person you can truly depend on to be there for you, is YOU!”, and that, “Even your own shadow leaves you when faced with darkness.”. If I don’t believe that I can accomplish something, there is no one in the world that can convince me that I can and certainly no one that can do it for me. My husband and my daughter have always believed in me and have shown silent support by putting up with my long runs, early bedtimes, and picky eating habits. If ever I verbally doubt myself, they have always told me that I can do it and that they have no doubts; but it is I that must believe this. I have, also, met some amazing people through the “Keep Calm And Run On”  running group and the “Best Of Me Fitness Challenge” group that I belong to on Facebook. “BOM” is where I was fortunate enough to meet Joe (aka “The RocketMan”). I turn to Joe the most, followed by a select few within these groups to help me get through tough times, difficult training road blocks, as well as, with many issues involving nutrition and hydration for endurance races – however, it is ultimately me, myself, alone, that has to face these issues and find my own way through to that successful “finish line”. 

Running has become such a huge part of my life and of who I am, as a person. After working for nearly 15 years now as a paramedic – being exposed to the negativity of the job, the world, and the quality of life of so many people, I was becoming a very negative, cynical, sarcastic, and impatient person. Having running as my outlet and racing as my hobby/passion to look forward to and strive for, I am able to “get out of my own head” and see things more clearly and simply. Running makes me a kinder person. It helps me to realize and appreciate that everyone is fighting their own battles and it is not my place, nor my duty, to judge them. I simply try to help whoever, whenever, wherever, and however I can. I work to support my family. I rush home to be with and enjoy them. Running is my time for ME – to ground me, center me, and fuel my love for life. Whenever I am given the opportunity to encourage others to pursue running/racing or any other athletic pursuits, I always tell them to “FEEL THE FEAR… BUT DO IT ANYWAY!!!”.

About a month before the 2014 Pittsburgh Marathon, I had attended our region’s annual EMS Conference. One of the speakers there said something that has stuck with me ever since and rings so loudly with its truth. He said: “If you don’t want to do something, don’t. But if you are afraid to do it, then you MUST!”. Think about it… if there is something out there that you don’t want to do, you really don’t even give it a second thought. It doesn’t matter to you or cause you any further concern. But if, deep down, you want to do something but are simply “afraid” of it… the race is too long, too hard, too difficult…you think you are too weak, too slow, too fat…this thing will consume your thoughts and haunt you until you conquer it. 

Quit stressing over it. Trust the training, take your time, set your own pace, and simply DO IT! One day at a time. One mile at a time. One step at a time. Over time, little by little, a little becomes a lot! This is YOUR dream… go out there and make it happen! 

Sometimes my relationship with running is of a love/hate nature. As a runner, I have a competitive spirit, mostly against myself, of course. So even as I train and run and, eventually, accomplish each goal I set my sights, it just never seems to be enough. I always want to run harder, farther, faster – it is a never-ending cycle for more and better. The doubts and struggles that go along with this are always on my mind and hanging over my head – marked in ink on my calendar, counting down the days until my next race with my new, lower goal time or my stronger performance in a longer distance. And I continue to run, and push, and struggle because I will never be satisfied until I reach my goals and accomplish what I set out to do. Then, when I do it, the cycle begins all over again. I fear I shall be chasing my running/racing goals for the remainder of my entire life…and I shall love every horribly wonderful moment of this journey.

My name is Aubrey Brewer and I am a “RUNNER”.

#ChasingBoston #ForTheLoveOfTheRun

“The START Line”

This is it… this is where I begin. 

Years ago, if someone would have told me that one day I would run a marathon, I’d have said they were crazy. I was bordering on “overweight” and could not even run a full mile without becoming winded and walking.

I entered my very first, official 5K race at the recommendation of friends, as it was set up to benefit the National EMS Memorial Service whose aim it is “To remember and honor those Emergency Medical Services personnel who have died in the line of duty and to recognize the ultimate sacrifice they have made for their fellow man.”.

I did not train or prepare myself for this race, after all, “It’s only 3.10 miles”.

Let’s just say, I arrived on race day unprepared for what this was going to feel like. My performance was less than stellar, to say the least, but I did finish this race, regardless. I never have been one to quit when faced with something I want to accomplish. This race was a reality check for me.

As a Paramedic, someone whose job it is to care for others, I felt that I should be holding myself to a higher standard of health and physical fitness. I did, however, thoroughly enjoy the positive and supportive atmosphere surrounding this race event and all those participating in it; runners, walkers, and volunteers, alike. This event, in and of itself, helped to “light a fire” in my heart…which has now blossomed into a passion for running and racing.

I began to strive to lose weight and become more physically fit, primarily with running, supplemented with weight training for strength. I focused on running another 5K race without walking. Then running another 5K in under 30 minutes. Next, I pushed myself to medal in my age group. This cycle continued, progressing further, to the 5 mile race distance, the 10K, the half marathon in Pittsburgh 2013, and on to the Pittsburgh Marathon in 2014.

In training for Pittsburgh, I began to learn the details surrounding the Boston Marathon. I began to take notice of how different this particular event is; how runners must train hard and qualify to run this race and then hope that they qualified with enough room to spare in order to earn an invite. It was terrifying to watch the events of Boston 2013 unfold, as I paid attention to this historic event for the very first time in my life. I ran the half marathon in Pittsburgh with a tribute “Boston Strong” bib pinned upon my back. The following year, it was incredibly inspirational to watch Meb Keflezighi return to Boston and witness him winning Boston for the people of Boston and the U.S.A.. 

As I proceeded to take on the marathon distance, myself, here in Pittsburgh, Pa., I began to reflect on what it would be like to be one of the relatively few runners that qualify for and run Boston. I quickly wrote myself off as one of those people capable of doing so, as my finish time in Pittsburgh revealed that I would need to shave nearly an hour off my marathon time just to qualify. I did not believe that this was physically possible for me. 

I am not a “fast” runner. “Speed” has never come naturally or easily for me. I am, as we say, a “middle of the pack” runner…and that’s okay. The views from here are beautiful and the experiences profound. Thus the running quote: “Go fast enough to get there but slow enough to SEE!”. I have always been an advocate for such running/racing. However, I have, also, always been the kind of person that needs a goal. I enjoy the commitment, the training, the discipline that comes from pursuing a goal that is just slightly out of reach and requires a great deal of blood, sweat, and tears in order to achieve. The satisfaction gained from success in such personal ventures is unlike anything I have ever known. So, in place of the Boston Marathon, I set my sights on running a half marathon in all 50 states plus D.C., and a very personal goal of breaking the 2-hour mark in the Pittsburgh Half Marathon. 

In the years that followed, I ran the Jazz Half Marathon in New Orleans, Louisiana, the Rock & Roll Half Marathon in Las Vegas, Nevada, the USA Half Marathon in San Diego, California, the Presque Isle Half Marathon in Erie, Pennsylvania, and the Baltimore Half Marathon in Maryland. I succeeded in my Pittsburgh Half Marathon goal in 2015 with a time 01:59:56. I then began to pursue a new goal of completing my first ultra marathon, with the help of my friend, Joe (aka “The RocketMan”). Joe plays a very important role in my decision now to chase Boston and to pursue personal greatness on every level – but especially in relation to my running and racing. He is my inspiration, my mentor, my coach, my “father figure”, and my friend. He motivated and strengthened me, mentally and physically, sending me motivational quotes, daily and weekly workouts, as well as, videos to watch to inspire me further; many of them being old boxing matches involving the late, great Muhammad Ali. All through the winter months of 2015 and into 2016, we trained. 

On March 19, 2016, we set out on the roads of the North Park lake loop together to complete the Lt. J.C. Stone 50K ultra marathon. It was a phenomenal experience and truly broke through the self-imposed barriers that I had set in my own mind in regards to what is and is not possible for me. Completing this particular event made me realize that NOTHING is “impossible”. This lead me to question my goal of running half marathons in all 50 states. Truth be told, I really had no desire to actually do this. It simply replaced my desire for Boston, and diverted my attention from this, as I had mentally decided that Boston was an unattainable level of performance for me. Joe disputed that mind set with story after story of his own personal experiences of running, racing, and the 17 times he tried and failed to secure his own BQ. He was determined though and he never gives up. He has run Boston so many times since then and every marathon he runs is with the goal of a BQ time. (And he runs A LOT of marathons!) 

So, there we were, in the 29th mile of the ultra marathon and I was in a very dark place in my mind, as the final miles of any long distance event are, as I say, ”what nightmares are made of”. This is the point where every runner asks themselves WHY? 

WHY am I doing this? WHY do I care? WHY does finishing this even matter to me?”

 The answers here are very personal and matter only to the runner himself/herself. In this pivotal moment though, I never once gave up or gave in. Joe recognized this drive, this spirit, in me almost as if seeing himself in a mirror. At this point, he made the decision to make certain I chased and succeeded in qualifying for and running the Boston Marathon. He took my dream and has made it his own, vowing to not stop and to never give up until WE succeed in my goal. 

I once saw a race sign that said: “To run an ultra marathon you have to be arrogant enough to believe that you can and stupid enough to try.” 

Well, now that I had accomplished THAT, the only thing left hanging in the back of my mind as an “impossible” thing for me to accomplish was Boston. And so it began… the seed was planted. Joe watered the thought every time we spoke, cultivating the groundwork he had laid in my mind by devising a plan, detailing stepping stones along the way. 

Now here we are, starting me out on a base training program to prepare my body for a marathon PR in Pittsburgh 2017, followed by intensified training to help me bridge that gap towards my own BQ. The road will be long and the climb to such a marathon time will be steep, but it is no longer “impossible” in my mind. It will take time, intense commitment, discipline and drive, as well as, a lot of blood, sweat, and tears…but I believe that if I give it my all and never, ever give up, eventually, I will succeed. I believe that I can and I am comforted by the fact that Joe will be here with me every step along the way. 

What an incredible day that will be when, battered and bruised, but by no means defeated, we soar across that finish line, eyes on that clock, and can say: “DID YOU SEE THE CLOCK?! WE ARE GOING TO BOSTON!”

And so it begins…

#ChasingBoston #ForTheLoveOfTheRun