Making Headlines!

Meredith's run is making headlines all over the place ... 
We caught some of the social media hits on the bostonmarathonblog.com:

And our friends at +Manchester Ink Link  shared Meredith's story with their audience in an article last week - you can view it here: goo.gl/JEADUT

Watch for more of Meredith's journey in the news...

Facing the Wall

The wall I face when running on the treadmill in the garage.

If you’ve ever ventured into my office at Granite United Way, you’ve probably noticed a fairly large collage on my office wall. It’s a combination of famous quotes, children’s art, family and staff photographs, and reminders of humorous situations. It’s my version of “give a penny, take a penny,” where staffers add to and take from the wall as they’d like, with the idea that it is a source of motivation for our team.

Hidden from the view of almost everyone else, I keep a second inspirational wall, located on the inside of my garage door. This is the wall I face every time I get on the treadmill, a wall I’ve faced many, many times during this chilly training season. It’s an eclectic collection of pieces, including a quote from Socrates, a verse from Psalms, and even one slightly profane reminder, all to keep me focused when my mind and body begin to veer off-course.

This weekend, I faced another wall. For most marathon training plans, the 20-miler marks the longest distance a runner will undertake during their preparation. Most runners experience “the wall,” or their mental and physical breaking point, somewhere around this distance. So, this weekend, I faced the first 20 miler of my Boston training.

In many ways, the timing of this run was less than ideal. It fell just 2 days after Gwen had a robust set of 6 month vaccinations, leaving her sore and irritable. Sunday marked the beginning of Daylight Savings Time and a full moon, robbing us of an hour and leaving me with a confused and overtired toddler.  With cold temperatures, strong winds, and a late season Nor’easter headed our way, the odds were stacked against me. So I made a somewhat bold decision: I’d face my 20 mile wall while facing my garage wall. That’s right… nearly over 2.5 hours of running on the treadmill.

While treadmill running offers a flat running profile and a buffer from the weather, it absolutely has its downsides. Staring at a digital readout of your constant progress while the rest of your view remains the same is daunting. Potentially more challenging is the “ease of bailing” factor, as one can end a run by simply pressing a button, unlike the logistical challenges of stopping out on the road. Thus, I still felt incredibly accomplished when I saw the display finally read 20.00.

A long shower, two heart-shaped PB&Js (thanks to my husband), and a tall glass of chocolate milk later, I faced yet another wall, one that reminds me why I keep running. My dining room wall is covered with Grant’s artwork, along with homemade signs that my husband and Grant make after each of my long runs. Over the last few weeks, when I’ve felt like my running progress has stalled, this has reminded me who is watching.

In the end, there will always be walls. That’s inevitable. The choice we have is how we face them.

My husband's delicious creation.

Inspirations from my family

Within the Sound of Silence

For those who read Friday’s post and are wondering how I faired in my first music-less half marathon, the wait is over.

Despite sunny skies, the temperature at the start line hovered at just 19 degrees, with a wind chill of 4. It was so much worse than I’d anticipated when I registered a week ago, worse than I’d written about just 48 hours before the race’s start. If I heard one more person attempt sarcastic optimism about the weather, I probably would have really lost it.

A personal record setting 104 minutes later, it was over. I’d finished the race without my trusty playlist, only slightly worse for the wear.

Running thirteen silent miles gives you a lot of time to think, especially when you can’t sing along with Madonna. So, for your reading pleasure (or horror), here are some of my thoughts from the road:

Mile 1: I wonder when I’ll be able to feel my nose again. Should I be worried about that? Forget runner’s knee or plantar fasciitis… What about frostbite?

Mile 3: Check out the numbered parking spots. I could correlate these to historical events. Oh, the year I was born. The year my parents got married. Kennedy’s assassination.
(I’m a former history teacher. This went on for a while.)

Mile 5: Water stops are super scary today. What if I spill on myself? Then it would freeze. I’ll opt for dehydration.
(I’m not saying this was a logical set of plans.)

Mile 7: Over halfway and last of the hills. And there are jambalaya leftovers for lunch. Let’s get this thing done.
(I make a seriously good jambalaya. The anticipatory excitement was entirely appropriate.)

Mile 9: 4 miles to go. At 8 minutes per mile, that’s 32 minutes left. At 90-100 paces per minute, I could just count 3,200 paces, and I’ll be done.
(I proceeded to count to 500. I’m not kidding.)

Mile 10: Look, the ocean! Oh, the “ocean breezes.” How is it that I’m running in a circle and facing a headwind the entire race?

Mile 12: One more mile until beer! Oh, wait. I gave that up for Lent. What was I thinking?

Finish line: Phew. Check that box.

What’s next? My first post-baby 20 miler!

When the Plan Doesn’t Work

I talk a good game. I make great training plans with color-coded spreadsheets. I prepare a week’s worth of semi-healthy meals every Sunday. I monitor the wear and tear on my shoes. I track my caloric intake. I take a multivitamin.

But sometimes, it all falls apart.

Last Saturday, I set out to run 18 miles, and I returned home after just 4, knowing my legs just didn’t have enough juice.

The next morning, I bravely headed out again, only to stop after 8 miles. I was hungry, thirsty, disappointed, and mentally exhausted.

After a hot shower, a tearful texting conversation with a friend, and a toddler-led session of block tower construction, I devised a new strategy. This weekend, I’m racing, hoping that a half marathon with about a thousand New England runners along the ocean will rejuvenate my running soul.

This is going to be rough. The fact that the weather is predicted to be a chilly 35 degrees with “ocean breezes” is magnified by the race’s worst rule: No earbuds, which means there will be no music to drown out my thoughts that tell me I’m not going to make it.

Marathon training, like so many other things in life, isn’t just about how perfectly we build or follow the plan. More often, it’s about how well we adjust when things don’t go as planned. There is comfort in the expected, the intended, the known. For Type-A data wonks like me, knowing when to read the situation, follow your intuition, and try something new is downright terrifying.

So here I am, leaning into the unknown and unplanned. It’s going to be cold, breezy, and quiet. It’s just me and my shoes, hanging out outside my comfort zone, hoping to quiet my doubt and reclaim my running confidence.

Stay tuned!

My Kind of Shoe Sale

The life of a marathoner...when my favorite running sneakers went on sale, I didn't just buy one pair, or even two pairs. I bought all six pairs that were in my size! I am confident my feet will be ready for the Boston Marathon in 66 days!

We've officially launched the Endowment Campaign for my Boston Marathon run this week! To read the full press release visit here.  We've already had people using our mobile giving option ~ Text ENDOWMENT to 91999. Thank you all for your support as I continue training for April's race!

Plan the work, and then work the plan

For those who know me well, my planning habits are the stuff of both admiration and humor.  There is something wonderfully comforting about having a plan; I have a plan for everything that it is possible to plan for, and I have contingency plans for the things I can’t predict.

Training for the Boston Marathon didn’t truly feel “real” until I’d settled on a training plan. I have trained for 11 previous marathons, and every training season looks a little different. I balance running with other commitments, including family, career, friends, and community, and these aspects of my life are constantly shifting and changing. The context around the training season often influences my training plan more than the details of the race itself.

Once it’s written, my carefully typed plan is affixed to our refrigerator, and I check off workouts as I complete them. It is a constant comforting reminder, reassuring me that each run has a part to play in my race day preparations.

But Boston is notoriously unpredictable. In 2012, it was sunny and 86 degrees on race day; in 2015, it was cold and rainy. The hardest climbing on the course comes after Mile 20, the longest training distance that most runners complete during their plans. And no one can truly know how the body will react to 26.2 miles.

This is why a plan is so incredibly important. A good plan reduces the impact of variable conditions on the ultimate results. It prepares runners to mentally and physically endure when the weather is less than ideal, when the terrain is hillier than expected, and when the exhaustion of the enormity of the race is upon them.

In many ways, advancing the common good is, itself, a marathon, full of unplanned twists and turns. As much as we plan ahead, we can’t always predict the ways that our communities will change and the needs that will necessitate action. In that sea of unknowns, the future of Granite United Way needs to be one of continued financial strength and security. Building a strong endowment is a critical part of ensuring that stability.

Dedicating my race in April to Granite United Way’s endowment was a natural decision. Just as my commitment to my training plan will prepare me mentally and physically for the marathon, so too will this endowment will help our communities endure what is to come, whatever that may be.

September Update: Checking Boxes

So, it’s been a little while since I first shared my plans to run the 2017 Boston Marathon, raising funds for Granite United Way’s Endowment Fund. While it’s been “all quiet” on this page, my life has been far from dull or serene.

During the months of August and September, I have checked two fairly huge “boxes” on my long “to-do” list leading up to April 17, 2017.

Box #1: On August 29, 2016, my husband and I welcomed our daughter into our family. Gwendolyn Margaret’s arrival was somewhat dramatic and “fashionably late,” brought on by an evening jog/waddle, an act of complete desperation on my part. That said, we are thrilled to have our happy, healthy bundle of wonderfulness who was well worth the wait.

Box #2: September 16 was the first day I was eligible to apply for entry for the 2017 Boston Marathon. Despite my “qualified” status, my official entry wasn’t a “sure thing” until my application to the Boston Athletic Association was processed. The BAA uses the application process to ensure that the race has the fastest field possible. Last year, more than 1,000 qualified runners still weren’t fast enough to run the race. You can imagine how thrilled I was to see my official acceptance email in my email inbox on September 19!

While I’ve been home enjoying leave with Gwen and celebrating my official registration for Boston, my United Way family has been hard at work, raising the first $7,000 of our Going the Distance Challenge. Here’s a list of the incredibly generous people who have joined my journey from Hopkinton to Copley by giving to the GUW Endowment:

• Jared Stidham, my fantastic husband who purchased Mile 11 to celebrate our 11 fantastic years of marriage
• Mark and Susan Primeau, who purchased Mile 15 to celebrate Mark’s year as GUW’s Board Chair in 2015
• Dean and Evangeline Christon, who purchased Mile 16 in recognition of Dean’s service as GUW’s Board Chair in 2016
• Evan and Sae-Im Smith, whose generosity will be inspiring me as I climb Heartbreak Hill
• My GUW colleagues, who will be cheering me on in person and through their philanthropic deeds by sponsoring my Cheering Section
• Charla and David Stevens, whose gift kicked off our community mile

Thank you so much for keeping tabs on my progress!

Meredith