Month: April 2024

“You learn everything you need to know about a person when you see their face in the moment of your greatest triumph!”

– Andre Agassi

This is one of the most sought after race medals in the world. Looking back on all the years it took to finally earn my own, I realize now that it’s just a silly sliver of recycled steel tethered to a silky ribbon. The journey you must take in order to receive it though… that’s the real reward! That’s where the transformation occurs. And that is not something you can ever hold in your hand or tie to a ribbon and wear around your neck. It’s something that changes deep inside you gradually, over time. In the quiet moments when you’re finding grace, in the moments when you struggle to believe, and (most importantly) when it seems as if all hope is lost. Because it’s in these moments when you’re faced with the choice to simply give up, or try and fight harder. It’s in this moment when we’re actually most powerful – because we get to decide what’s important, and we get to discard what’s not. And in this moment our spirit begins to shine, as we choose to embrace the discomfort required in order to grow, and are forced to reconcile the difference between who we are right now and who we aspire to be.

Boston was certainly the “holy grail” of marathons to me. The experience of finally being there – of being acknowledged, invited, welcomed and included, supported along the course, and honored at the Finish was just the “icing on the cake” following a much longer journey.

The greatest reward, I found amidst the work – the 15 year journey of physical, mental, and emotional growth required to finally achieve this dream; a dream more personal than any I’ve ever had before – and which became even more personal as the years of struggle continued on. The experience of running this marathon from start to finish, from Hopkinton to Boston, was organic and surreal. A purging of pent up emotions. A cathartic reconciliation of all the things I used to think and all the ways I used to feel – a proverbial shedding of the skin I used to wear, and an emergence into the person I’ve finally grown up to be.

In all my years of long distance racing, I’ve always experienced a period of deflation in the days after an event. A heavy feeling of disappointment or depression… like we’d worked so hard for so long to achieve this one thing and, in a matter of hours, it was gone. Done. Over. And if I wanted to experience that excitement and exhilaration again, I’d have to return to training – to suffering, to struggling, to beating myself back down in hopes that I’d be able to come back even stronger next time. But not this time. This time, there will be no next time. This was it. This was my Boston. And once was definitely enough. This time I walked away proud, exhilarated. Immediately after completing the race, I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders and I was instantly set free. This feeling has followed me home, and remained with me every day since.

I’m so grateful for my life, my friends, my family, my ability to run and keep moving forward. I no longer feel I have anything to prove – to myself or anyone else. As incredible as it was to earn my invite and physically run that race, it is equally incredible to know that it is all behind me now. Even if I could do it again, I wouldn’t. I’d simply choose not to.

Boston was everything I’d hoped it would be and even so much more! I returned home with a heart so full, and cannot stress enough how grateful I am to every single person whose path has crossed with mine in any way, shape, or form these last several years – every incredible human being who, even if just “all in a day’s work”, happened to impart some piece of knowledge or encouragement in order to help me along the way.

The truth is, no one’s story of success is ever solely their own. It truly does “take a village”. The fact that I am here today (physically able to have run the Boston Marathon ) is the product of so many selfless, caring, talented, and hardworking professionals coming together to turn my injured body into something capable of doing very hard things. I’m proud of the end result. But I am even more proud to have had the privilege of working with so many incredible human beings.

In chronological order from the time of my accident:

Dr. Mark Baratz (Hand and Upper Extremity Specialist) and David Lingenfelter PA-C of UPMC Orthopaedic Surgery Center.

Jacqueline Voegler & Jacqueline Loeffler, Occupational Therapists (specializing in hand and upper extremity rehab) at the UPMC Lemieux Sports Complex.

Drs. Amanda and Cotey Jordan at Family Chiropractic.

Dr. Marcus Platz at MAP Chiropractic.

Kristen Antinopoulos-Apple, friend and phenomenal massage therapist.

Dr. Palguta at New Covenant Family Practice.

Dr. Rob Oelhaf, friend and Emergency Medicine Physician.

Dr. Okonkwo, Erin Thomson, and Dr. Peter Gerzsten at UPMC Presbyterian Hospital – Department of Neurological Surgery.

Amy George and Dr. Richard Rafferty at The Disc Institute of Pittsburgh.

Dane Eberle, physical therapist (for spinal rehab) at the UPMC Lemieux Sports Complex.

Nick Alouise, owner and personal trainer at LMNT Active

Dr. Daniel Turack, at Turack Chiropractic and InBalance+ Performance Center

As well as all the friends who showed up last year to help me run my qualifying race: Lori, Harvey, Emily, Tony, Jennie, Nick, and my husband, Rick! And Jesse who showed up in Boston on “Marathon Monday” and stood along the course in the hot sun, waiting for me at Mile 20, with a big bag of fresh cut orange slices to help power me through!

I am beyond grateful for each and every one of these incredible human beings… and all those who were praying for me and tracking me on their phones back at home. (Especially my therapist, Dr. Michael, who has had a front row seat to every positive, negative, healthy or self-sabotaging emotion and experience in my life!)

Without the love and support from them all, it’s likely that I never would have made it here today. I’d say that bringing “the unicorn” home has been such a bittersweet experience… but that’s simply not true. There’s nothing bitter about this experience – not even in the least. I’m a real Boston Marathonah’ now! I’ve been waiting my whole life to feel like this… never once realizing that I was actually the one who was always in control.

#BeyondTheBoylstonLine

#BeyondTheBoylstonLine

“What is the shape, the sound, the texture of a dream realized? I found out when I took the last left-hand turn into the finishing stretch…”

Des Linden, “CHOOSING TO RUN”

Right on Hereford. Left on Boylston.

This is a moment that I will never forget. It is organic and surreal, all at the same time; a rewarding moment that actually lived up to the anticipation that had been building within me since the very beginning (more than a decade ago!) when glimmers of this dream first began to form inside my mind.

For the past year and a half, I’ve been letting intuition (not numbers) dictate my routine. I know my good days aren’t making the world turn, but I finally have this sense of being in sync with the world as it turns, and of using its gravitational force to move with a sense of purpose rather than allowing it to pull me in whatever direction it so chooses. I finally feel like this is what I’m meant to do… and not just for Boston – but for myself, and for the rest of my life.

No matter what my threshold for pain or level of progress amounts to for the day, simply showing up and doing work has proven to be more than enough; a concept so contrary to the darker place from which my progress used to grow.

As an empath, I learned at a very young age that sustained movement is the least destructive way for me to metabolize emotional pain – both my own and that which I absorb from others. Through the years, I’ve come to find reprieve from the heaviness of the world through movement and sustained physical exertion.

In the beginning, I didn’t really run to be fit. I mostly ran to simply not hurt so much. When out on a run, I’d actually envision the emotions as particles, flying off my skin and falling away, left behind me on the ground as I continued to run away. Whatever heaviness had burdened me before, I always returned from my run a little bit lighter, with gratitude for the life that I am able to live and a quiet reverence for the space in which I’ve found it.

Over time though, things began to change. I carved out space for my runs, but my progress became a personal pillar of shame as I constantly compared myself to higher and higher standards. It’s a vicious, self-sabotaging cycle to base your value as a person on your ability (or lack there of) to continually reach the next level.

Nearly 3 years post-traumatic accident, “winning” no longer has anything to do with running fast or setting a new PR. It means giving my best possible effort with the cleanest possible form. Previously, this lesson had been so hard for me to put into practice – a tough pill to swallow for someone who’d spent the better part of a decade judging her self-worth based upon the numbers on a clock every time she crossed a damn finish line.

Literally everything about this Boston Marathon build-up has been a challenge. From the altering of my form, to the strengthening of my weaknesses, and every hellishly painful cramp and muscle spasm along the way. We’ve put a lot of time and effort into this, trying to make the most of this long awaited dream on the verge of actually coming true, all the while still acclimating myself to this new reality, repeatedly pushing up against every limitation we now find within my body. I’ve only recently reached the point where it feels as if I’m able to train like myself again – or rather my “new” self, equipped with more knowledge, more patience, and a broader understanding of what it means to “win”.

This training cycle has been more than a little cathartic for me. A reckoning, so to speak, alotting me the time I’ve needed to reflect upon all the things that have occurred in my life, as well as the space (and grace) in which to reconcile them. I ran this race completely for myself – for all the memories of what could have been, and all that used to be. I ran, leaving it all out there – behind me, on the course.

Sometimes things happen and the only choice you have is to quit… or to fight much harder in order to come back, regardless of what that comeback actually looks like. For me, that has meant letting go of any hard and fast time goals in exchange for simply being able to complete the marathon distance cleanly, with the best possible form, regardless of how long it happens to take. It’s true, everybody does love a good comeback story. But we don’t often praise the basic consistency and subtle changes made when we focus on staying healthy, avoiding further injury, and begin to stack multiple training blocks, one on top of the other. And this particular moment? This feeling of finally realizing this once so very distant dream? This is the product of so many selfless, caring, talented and hardworking people coming together to turn my injured body into something capable of doing very hard things. I’m proud of the end result. But I’m more proud to have had the privilege of working with so many incredible human beings.

Relationships are everything to me, and I want to thank everyone who had a hand in making this dream a reality. I always knew this moment would be good, but it is far better than anything I ever could have imagined because of all of you!

To my husband, Rick: No one has ever been more supportive or personally invested in my health, wellness, and personal happiness. No one has ever seen me with such clarity, or loved me with more grace. Thank you for loving me, supporting me, and standing by me no matter what.

To my personal trainer, Nick: No one has ever been more invested in my fitness, my progress, and my ability to finish strong. I appreciate all of your time, attention to detail, and constant support. Most importantly though, I appreciate your friendship.

To “my Sarah” who traveled all the way to Boston in order to share in this long awaited moment with me: No friend has ever invested so much of their own time, attention, and love into my goals as you have. No matter what it is that I must grow through, or how high the next “mountain” is along life’s path, you continue show up in the most important ways and show me that I will never have to face anything alone. WE CAN DO HARD THINGS, my friend. We can, we have, and we always will – TOGETHER.

To the THOUSANDS of people who lined the streets all the way from Hopkinton to Boston, clapping, yelling, and playing music for thousands of people they don’t even know, THANK YOU! You helped to make this day an experience that I will never forget!

To every person along the route who screamed my name and told me that I could do it: Thank you! I did! And not because I’m some “wicked fast” marathon runner, but because I had a dream and I simply refused to quit.

There are legitimately not enough words in the English language to adequately describe how grateful I am for my Doctors, Chiropractors, Neurosurgeons, and Physical Therapists. The truth is, success is a collaborative effort. No one is ever wholly self-made. We are all interconnected, and our achievements are a collective effort. We are, in the end, a mere reflection of the support and guidance we receive from the countless number of people who help to shape and/or re-build our lives. To the incredibly skilled, talented, and wise professional human beings who have helped me throughout my journey : THANK YOU!!! We’ve shared so many hours working together, swearing together, putting my broken body back together, all the while talking about my progress and running – physically and mentally preparing for what it would be like when I ran this Boston Marathon. My journey towards this moment didn’t end up looking anything like we’d initially imagined it would, but that has made it all the more special.

Which brings me specifically to DR. DAN: You were the first and only medical professional to tell me that THIS IS NOT “as good as it gets”. You weren’t intimidated by my injuries, and you cared very little about my diagnoses. You asked me if I was ready to get to work, then you jumped right in there with me! You gave me the greatest gift I’ve ever received – the gift of HOPE …and proceeded to show me the way, revealing a whole new level of healing, recovery, and forward moving progress. I could never thank you enough for your knowledge, your patience, and your positivity.

To my friends and family, my therapist (Dr.Michael), and anyone else who has ever truly given a sh*t about me: Thank you for seeing beyond my broken parts, both physically and emotionally. Thank you for recognizing THIS version of me – the full version, the healed version, the strong version, the one that we have spent the last several years rebuilding. The one physically capable of running all the way from Hopkinton to Boston. The one who never stopped believing that, one day, she always would.

#BeyondTheBoylstonLine

“When things get difficult. When you want to quit. When you question why you’re out there, remember that we’re the lucky ones.

When things fall apart and when you doubt your capacity to take another step into the dark, give yourself a solid tap on the chest, realize what a miracle you are, remind yourself that this is a gift that countless others would give anything to have and so let’s not let it slip away.

Eyes up. Stout heart. Believe. And remember, that we’re the lucky ones.”

– Dr. Tommy Rivers Puzey, DPT

This is BOSTON.

A marathon for 27,000 people. 27,000 ordinary people, each with their own unique story, who go on a (sometimes decades long) journey of obsession, of triumph and tribulation, to enhance and perfect their physical performance so that (even just once!) they might actually make the cut.

And once they do… that invite officially issued, their qualifiers adequately verified, they begin that journey all over again – preparing obsessively in order to arrive on race day (Patriot’s Day), the third Monday of April, ready to run this world renowned and brutally challenging course that spans all the way from Hopkinton to Boston. An iconic foot race, dating back more than a century. A race that has grown and evolved dozens of times, much like the athletes themselves who are running it. A race that has stood the test of time and become a beacon of hope, burning brightly, for those who might otherwise have chosen to give up.

The road from Hopkinton to Boston is an unforgiving one. The ultimate reality check. A scorching reminder of who you really are, who you’re pretending to be, and forcing you to reconcile the difference.

This race is for runners on a mission to prove their worth to the world, to the sport, and (most importantly) to ourselves – that we deserve to be here, running the greatest marathon in the world.

Marathon Monday is a holiday in Boston. A cause for celebration. A reason to cheer on a random stranger doing a random thing on a random day for God knows what random reason. But it brings us closer together. It unites us. It makes us all feel good, and proud, and an important part of this incredible moment in our future’s history.

This race is known for its difficulty, its runners for their determination and grit. The people of Boston are known for their toughness, their tenacity, their indelible strength and ability to keep showing up, to keep carrying on no matter what! Coming to Boston to run this race is a dream come true for me. The journey to get here, a testament to who I am and what I’m made of – determination and grit, toughness, tenacity, and the strength to keep showing up; the very same things that make this town and all of its people “Boston Strong”.

I have no idea what this race will look like for me. The truth is, it doesn’t even matter. I’ve already decided that this will be my final full marathon and I’m going to enjoy every mile. Coach Nick has finally helped me to realize that “it’s about progress, not perfection”, and Dr. Dan has helped me to see that it’s no longer about my pace, but the work we’ve put in and the progress that we’ve made in building me back better, stronger, and more stable than ever before. How incredibly lucky am I to have the opportunity to demonstrate all that I’ve learned and all that we’ve accomplished on this particular 26.2 mile course? The one that I have dreamed about and imagined in my mind for the better part of my adult life?

This course is challenging – full of hills, rolling from start to finish. Several of them so large and long (spanning from miles 16 – 21+) that they’ve been given their own name and are revered around the globe! But isn’t that just like Life? It’s full of ups and downs, and we have no choice but to face them all. But how we go about doing so is completely up to us. I’ve learned along my own life’s journey (and with a lot of help from my therapist!) that it makes the most sense to take it all just one step at a time – to face the climbs with courage, the descents with grace, and to find a delicate balance in between.

So draw up your race signs and raise up your beers. Cheer louder than a screaming teenager at a Taylor Swift concert. You may never know exactly who I am, nor I know you – but because of you, standing there all along the way or cheering from afar, I know that I will run strong. Because this is BOSTON, and I am (finally!) one of “the lucky ones”!

#BeyondTheBoylstonLine