**Warning: This post is raw, real, unfiltered, and unedited. Take it as you will.
Today I was notified that I was not accepted into the Boston Marathon. Those who qualified by 2:09 or more got in. I qualified by 1:52.
I am sad.
It’s so hard to hear (basically), “You are not good enough,” “You are not fast enough.”
What’s silly is that when I qualified for Boston (in London) I knew that it wouldn’t be enough. I knew right then. And I didn’t care because I had PR’d and that was the main goal before anything else. And since I did PR, I was okay with not having a time good enough for Boston. I really was.
Then my excitement about the possibility of Boston grew as chatter in the running community escalated about how a very hot Boston Marathon in 2016 would affect the qualifying times for 2017. I read blogs, articles, and more. Was I really going to be able to go to Boston again? Maybe! Yay!
Well that excitement balloon, that I had spent months inflating, deflated in a quick, dizzying minute today. No Boston.
I have cried a few times today. I’ve been down. I’ve gotten upset at myself that I let myself get excited. Then I tell myself how silly I am because I am blessed with the ability to run races all over the world- being sad is just silly! But guess what. I’m still sad. I can’t help it.
Sad because mainly, I’m taking this as a sign from above that I need to lay my dream of another Boston to rest. For several reasons.
First, I know what it takes to get to Boston: the perfect storm of training my ass off, perfect course, perfect weather, perfect tapering, perfect nutrition, perfect rest, and perfect fueling. (Not the case for all runners but for me, this is the case.)
Failures along the way? With my history, at least a handful before it would come to fruition.
Second reason is: My family. Heavy training mom is different than running mom. I’ll just leave it at that.
Third reason: I can’t run full marathons forever. I’ll be honest, and it seems so sad to say (and perhaps that is why I have been sad today): I don’t know how many I have left in me. Guys, I love the marathon distance with every single sliver of my racing heart. I will absolutely finish out the Majors (only Berlin left!) and the continents (I’ll be done with those in the summer of 2019) but beyond that, the future is still so foggy when it comes to what my body will be able to handle and/or how I choose to spend my time and energy. Perhaps I will run fulls, but only once every couple years. Perhaps I will focus on the half marathon. Perhaps I’ll be like my Granddad- daily morning runs along with hitting up the weekend 5K’s and 10K’s in my area and then drive home to my family afterwards. I don’t know. So hard to say.
Final reason: I’ve run Boston before. I fought my way to get there once before, so you could say, I did achieve my goal. Just couldn’t do it twice
I do wonder, what would my mom say about this refection letter today? What would Granddad tell me to do? Settle for a “one and done” Boston (albeit a magical one)? Or prove to myself once more that I can make the impossible possible?
Every post I saw today basically said, “If you missed the cutoff, let it fuel your fire!” To that I say… those that will continue to try are amazing. I applaud them. I know they will get there. I know because I was once in their shoes… and I made it there!
And that, my friends is the beauty of this hobby I call mine. A girl who had never run a day in her life until she was 26- pushing two baby boys in a jogging stroller going slower than a snail on a tightrope, found her way to Boston with just the road under her feet and a dream in her heart.
And proved that the impossible could become possible.
Then she was so happy that she took those two feet and found her way around the globe.
And maybe that’s how the story should end.