WE DID IT!!

That is to say, you all raised over $4000 to help students in Boston Public Schools, and I, somehow, finished the Boston Marathon!!!

So, for all those who dare, here is the extended version of my Boston Marathon experience.

First, I have a confession to make. I didn't tell anyone, but two weeks ago I went for a 12 mile run and pulled my IT Band in my lower left leg, resulting in terrible shooting pains whenever I took a step or bent my knee. After the run, I could barely walk for 2 days, and I saw a physical therapist who told me to ice it and not run, but that it would probably be fine by marathon day.

I set out on Monday from Hopkinton feeling fine, but after Mile 1, I could feel my knee start to ache again, and by Mile 3 it was full blown and I had to hobble into the medical tent at Mile 4. They gave me ice and asked me to sit, but I told them I wanted to keep going, and they taped the ice to my knee so I could walk with it.

Keep in mind, over 6 months I had run over 400 miles in training for this, so pain at Mile 4 was essentially both unheardof and crushing. All I could think was, 3 weeks ago we did a 21 mile training run along the course; it was grueling but manageable. And here I was at Mile 4, hurting to walk the same steps I had confidently run so recently.

With the ice, and 6 Advils, I got a second wind and managed to jog the 3 miles to the next med tent. They wrapped my calf with an Ace bandage, taped on some new ice, and I was on my way again, walking and hobble-running.

The next med tent gave me fresh Motrin and ice, but the real thing that kept me going was knowing the promise I made to all of you that I would finish. The bulk of runners were long gone, and even the famous screaming girls of Wellesley were but a dull roar by the time I hit them at mile 12. I kissed a baby on the head and vowed I would make it to the finish line run walk or crawl, even if they were picking up the cones around me (which in fact they did, a few hours later).

This dragged on, until at Mile 15, my family appeared to cheer me along! Rachel ran about a mile with me, feeding me grapes and lifting my spirits. But the time I started up Heartbreak Hill, most fans were gone and the rope/fence barriers to the course were down, so I was running along with spectators headed back to their cars, but the remaining few were great, still cheering on the runners who probably needed it most.

It was around this point when I realized that not only was I slowing, but my split time was too slow to finish in the required 6 hours, although I was still close to this goal. This fact spurred me on for the final 10 miles, knowing that, maybe just barely, I could still finish within the maximum allotted time (before they stop timing and giving medals) Every mile and every few km, a clock was set up with the official time, and ever so slowly I started gaining on it, pulling into the lead, pushing my pain to the background.

I rounded the turn at Cleveland Circle, Mile 22, and finally the crowds started to increase. By this point, they had reopened many of the roads, and taken down all but one table at the water stops. The runners were spread pretty thin, but people would look you in the eye as you passed to say "you can do this." I smiled and said thank you to each person right back. And I meant it each time. I was power walking 1 minute, running 2-3.

At mile 24, my thigh cramped. I nearly buckled over with 2 miles to go. I couldn’t walk, I could only run (running being a loose term), which was awful because at Mile 24 you're pretty tired even without extra injuries, but good because I couldn’t afford to walk anymore if I wanted to stay under 6 hours. Under Mass Ave, right on Hereford, left onto Boyleston, three blocks to go. Smiling ear to ear, I let out what was later describing as a terrible sounding war cry, and the crowd responded.

All those people were cheering for me (I know this because there were no other runners left on the road) as I victoriously ran the final blocks. I saw my family cheering for me one last time, and happily crossed the finish line.

I could barely move, it took 15 minutes to hobble to the water, food, and trophy stations, before I could stop at the medical tent for a good icing. I stumbled into the Weston hotel for our team after-party, to discover glorious free beer and a few patient souls who stayed to greet me.

I ran the Boston Marathon in 5 hours 56 minutes, among the last 100 finishers. A good time to beat, but maybe I’ll wait a couple more years before I try again.

Thank you everyone who donated, you are amazing!!! not only did you help a great cause, but you really did keep me going, especially those first 15 miles when I wanted to quit from the pain, but couldn’t let you down.

Thank you Sherman tribe, for surrogate taking me in and helping me, financially yes, but with kindness and support most importantly.

Thank you, Boston Partners and all my teammates, for this amazing opportunity, and for being so great to train with for the last 6 months. Jess, for being my adopted running partner. Erin, for modeling determination and work ethic. Kelly, for motivating me with our friendly rivalry, which once pizza money comes in, I think I won. Laura, no thanks for getting so many dang individual donors… just kidding… Pamela, Judy, and Wendy, co-team mom's, you all were wonderful. I need to stop naming people because if I leave only one person out they'll feel bad, but everyone was just great!

Thank you Sope, Dave, and Tommy, my roommates, for coming to my events, putting up with my whining all the time, and all that.

Thank you Mom and Dad, for everything, basically. You helped me raise so much money with your efforts, and more importantly you supported me every step of the way, and seeing you along the course and at the finish was an amazing gift!

Thank you Rachey! GP, for being there at every step, convincing me to do this, helping me along the way, giving me foot massages (albeit often begrudgingly), buying me congratulatory breakfast this morning, and so much more, but mostly for being amazing.