Unbelievable As It May Be... I Am A Marathoner

After months and months of training, I finally earned the title of marathoner at the Philadelphia Marathon. Phew! While the race didn't go the way I'd dreamed, or nearly as smoothly as some of my training runs, I crossed the finish line without being forced off by the sweeper trucks, and there were still even a hundred or so people behind me. And the announcer, who was rattling off stats while I was coming down the last .2 miles, said that only something like  less than one percent of people in the world have completed a marathon, so I feel pretty happy that I was able to finish at all.

Race day started out great. I got up at 4 am, and left the enormous hotel suite in Valley Forge that Jeff got with his magical points, and headed into Philly proper. Driving in, I  saw signs for Manayunk (an area towards the end of this race), and it started to sink in just how far this run would actually be. I'd done 18 miles in training (which was what my book recommended) so I tried to just trust that it would indeed be enough. Most people say the rest of the way is mental.

I arrived in Philly, found a place to park and wandered over to the Art Museum, where the "Rocky steps" are, and the statue. Naturally I took my picture with Rocky and looked at the steps for a while, before opting not to climb to the top. I was saving my legs for later. But a visit to the port-a-potties before they got to busy, I went to my corral... and it was empty. They'd said to start lining up at 6 and I was confused why no one else was there. I'm always one to follow the rules. But by 6:30, the crowds started rolling in and I started to get excited. I met a bunch of people running their first marathons, a bunch of half marathoners as well. And a lot of these friendly faces I saw later in the race and they remembered me. I guess, its that Madison gene that my dad passed down, that gives me the chatty ability to make new acquaintances. The nerves were a buzzing, and as I positioned myself next to the pacer for the 5:30 finisher... even though that ambitious time wasn't in my plan, I figured I'd keep them in my sights as long as I could. While I was chatting, I even met a guy from the DC area who is also randomly going to be in Maine for Thanksgiving and is planning on running the Portland Turkey Day Race. Out of 20,000+ people, that seemed like a very strange coincidence.

But at the official start at 7... we didn't move. Even at 7:15, our corral hadn't budged at all. It wasn't until about 7:25 that we even started edging forward, at which point I stripped off my silly old knit hat, the cheap Wal-mart sweatsuit I'd purchased just for this occasion and my mittens and placed them along the side for the donation pile. By the time our group actually crossed the starting line, it was close to 7:40. That meant that every time I passed a mile marker, I had to mentally subtract about 40 minutes in order to get a sense of my real time. Math. And without coffee? It's a bad idea.

The race for the first two miles was pretty jammed, as I tried to find space in the crowd and still see things like LOVE park, but I did manage to stick with the 5:30 group for a while... until we got down by the waterfront, and I lost them around mile 3. But by then, the field had spread out a little bit, so I was able to focus on my own pace and enjoy the smiling and enthusiastic crowds. As I neared mile 4, I met a guy named RJ, as we commiserated about the sticky shoe syndrome, caused by all the spilled gatorade on the ground. He was from Jersey City, and had a kid around the same age as mine, so we chatted and jogged for a few miles together. But his plan was to pick up the pace each mile, and so as we headed over the hilly bridge to University City, we parted ways. But all of that chatting and whatever, distracted me so much that I actually had a pretty great first 10K. Turning up the road towards Drexel, there was a pretty steady incline, but at the top was a row of frat houses, with some rather enthusiastic frat boys dolling out beer. I opted out of the beer, not wanting to puke halfway through the race, but I appreciated how excited they were banging together all of their pots and pans. Like giddy drunk children.

But after that area, at about mile 8, I stopped to take a quick bathroom break because I'd just had far too much water by stopping to take a drink at every beverage area, which was probably more than necessary given the moderate temperature (in the low 40's) and my slow but steady speed. But it was a quick pit stop and then I got right back into the run... which turned out to be the big incline of the race, up a large hill past the zoo and into Fairmount Park. Now, the park is beautiful. Really lovely. And I'd be thrilled to live close enough to run here for fun... but that's one monster of a hill. Still, I powered up it without walking. I even impressed one of the Team In Training coaches, who were with a group behind me. And then it was down a hill and over to the Please Touch Museum... where I made what turned out to be my fatal mistake. I had some Gatorade. Now, I haven't been training with Gatorade, and when I was a little kid fruit punch used to make me so sick. Why did I decided to do this? Well, when I went to wipe the sweat off my forehead, I got that unmistakable white salty powder all over my sleeve, which meant that I was losing salt, and fast. I used to think this was good, but its not. Since they didn't have pretzels, like I thought they would (they were handing them out the day prior at the Expo), I thought the Gatorade would help boost my electrolytes. So I took some and kept on running.

Around mile 11, there was a great troupe of costumed people doing some weird dances and playing music, who brought quite the smile to my face. After that, there were hardly any fans along the waterfront, so maybe I obliviously started started singing out loud. Yeah. I know. Embarrassing. I didn't realize it, until a group of three women started singing along to some Lady Gaga "Born This Way" with me. They were doing the half, but one of them had done the full in 2011 and gave me some tips about where the inclines were and where there weren't crowds, and she gave me a big hug and told me to keep singing.

But at mile 12.5 there started to be all these signs, where you could go right and finish the half marathon, or go left to continue on. I stayed to the left, but there were VERY few people with me. In fact, I saw a lot of people with full marathon bibs (they were different colors), opting to go that route. I started to wonder if I'd been doing my math calculations all wrong. But, I knew that I was just under 3 hours for my half, and that my goal of finishing the marathon in under 6 hours, without walking, was well within my reach. I realize that 6 hour marathon isn't exactly speedy, but I've only been running for a couple years, and I'm just not that fast. I'm working on it, but its a slow process.

Anyway, I stayed to the left, and then was rewarded by seeing my friends Jennie and Jeff who had trekked down from NYC to see me run this foolish thing. Jennie is eight months pregnant, so I ran over to her and rubbed her belly for some good luck. I was feeling great, and told them I'd see them in three hours.

So I ran about another two miles down the course, but during this stretch, it is an out-and-back area, so I was seeing all of the people who were at mile 24/25, and finishing in well under 4 hours. Nothing like that sort of intimidation to make you feel like the slowest person on the planet. But still, kept on trucking... until right after the mile 15 water station. Now, at a few other water stations, between the one at the Please Touch Museum, and this one, I'd had some more Gatorade, washing it down with water. Well, let's just say that after about five miles, the Gatorade hit me. I had the most insane stomach cramps I'd ever had, and I have a pretty high tolerance for all things pain related. I honestly thought that perhaps my appendix was rupturing. I had to slow down to a walk, and was holding my side and trying all of my breathing techniques to try and get rid of the cramping. At some point, one of the volunteers asked if I was OK... I might have been crying... quite a bit... and I said I just needed to puke and I'd be fine. So I did, and I kept power walking.

Right after that I met Wandy and her daughter Cassi. They gave me some pretzels around mile 16, and that made me feel a bit better. Wandy's shins were killing her, so she was also power walking/running. Cassi, who was on a bike, was heading back to the finish to see her father at the end, so left us together and said she'd see us in a bit. After the pretzels, I tried to start running again, but could only make it a quarter mile or so, without taking a minute or two to walk. See, my knees have been bugging me since I've started doing these longer runs (yes, if I ever do another run this long I WILL buy compression socks) and once I started walking to get rid of the cramping, my knees just froze up. I was upset, to say the least. I've been running so consistently, and had run longer than 16 miles in training. Then the knee pain and my anger at not being able to do a steady run made me upset that I was crying again for a while, and while feeling slightly better, my stomach still felt questionable... at best.

So I ran for a bit, and walked for a bit, but mile 17 to 24 were so boring, that if I hadn't had Wandy to talk to, I don't know what I would have done. I learned all about her daughter, son, husband and battle with breast cancer. She's an awesome woman, and she was excited to learn about me as well. Amazing that in the course of 10 miles you can really get to know someone, even if you never learn their last name. I just know she's Wandy from Clinton, NJ, and she totally saved my race. We both wanted nothing more than to finish, and every time we saw one of the sweeper trucks, or little vans offering to pick up people who were struggling, we picked up the pace and told them to go away.  The actual sweepers/marathon end, were a good mile behind us, but we feared for the worst. We'd come so far, we agreed we'd be upset if we couldn't finish.

At some point Cassi returned, and she told us funny stories to keep our mind off of the pain, and Wandy's husband (who had finished in four hours) met up with us as well. He was cool, when I told him that I had done so well on my half marathon split, nearly 40 minutes faster than my previous half marathon finish time. He said that meant I got two PRs (Personal Records). One for the half, and one for the finish... since just finishing meant I had my best marathon time ever. That made me feel a lot better, considering how much I wanted to lay down and rest at the point.

I stuck with them until I saw the 26 flag waving in the distance and said I was going to run it in as best as I could. At 26.1, I saw Jeff, who asked me how I felt, and I said, loudly "like shit", with a big smile on my face... and realized he was video taping this classy moment. And the cop, who was next to him also found this amusing. And right in front of the finish line was Jennie who had her camera at the ready (all the pics here are hers) and was cheering very loudly.

As I crossed the finish line, I got to shake hands with the announcer, who read my name off my bib and pronounced me a marathoner. Then I said it was my first time and he happily shook my hand. Bet you don't get that kind of treatment if you finish with the big mobs in the 3/4 hour range. Maybe being a straggler paid off. Again, the time was about 40 minutes off, so my finish was around 7 hours... but it was still a finish. And considering the awful stomach incident, and the amount of people I saw being removed from the course via medics, I'm just happy I had any sort of time.

Me and Wandy with our medals!

After I crossed, Wandy crossed behind me, and these adorable eager young volunteers up to give us our well deserved medals. My triathlon medal from this fall might have been for a faster race, my Princess half marathon medal is a lot prettier, but this one is super special, because it was quite the personal accomplishment for me. Never did I imagine that two years ago I'd be able to run at all. Much less finish 26.2 miles. And finish it without quitting when it got really hard. It is definitely a medal that I'm super proud to display, and while there were thousands of people who got their medal for going a lot faster than I did, I know that on this day, I tried my hardest and did my very best.

I'm super grateful to my trainer Tara,  who worked with me and got me going faster and hillier on a treadmill than I would have ever imagined. And my dad, who gave me nearly daily guidance on running via phone from Maine. If only I'd started running with him earlier. I'm also thankful for Jeff and Jennie, who made such an effort to be there, even with the pregnancy. And to all my other friends and family who provided such encouragement to me whenever I got down or questioned why I was doing this. I feel lucky that I've gotten in shape and can do these things, and when I showed my daughter my medal, she was beaming with pride. Well, at least until she asked how many hours I ran for. When I said 7, she said, "That's longer than you were supposed to." Yeah, she's pretty much made to be a personal trainer.

I keep saying this will be my only marathon. And it might be. This was quite the grueling experience. I love the 10K (6.2 mile distance), its a fun length to run. The half marathon (13.1) is a bit of a challenge, but still kind of fun. Somewhere around mile 15, the running here stopped being fun. And maybe that was because I got sick, but maybe just that distance is really, really long. So I do think that for the foreseeable future I'm sticking to the half or shorter to work on my speed and endurance that way. That will leave me more time to train for triathlons (which I love) and the Tough Mudder I've been longing to do, and maybe have a life instead of spending so many hours of every weekend running up and down the same old paths. So will I do another marathon? Most likely not, but I'd never say never. All I know is either way I've earned the right to put one of those 26.2 magnets on the back of my car... and that's what really matters.

Still the Run

On Saturday, I did my last pre-marathon "long" run. But long is by the standards of this training plan I'm trying to follow, so my short-long-run this weekend, is still 8 miles and that's still a sizable distance in my book. That, and I have to run the whole actual length of the marathon on November 18th. All 26.2 miles of it.

But my run on Saturday was a strange one. With my NJ community still suffering power outages in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy, there was an odd hum of generators, entire areas that were completely powerless and lines of people waiting for gas that snaked for miles. The path I've been doing my long runs on was in an area totally without power, and it floods in a normal rainstorm, and its a place I have to drive to, so not taking chances and in an effort to conserve fuel, I decided to run by my house instead. But I forget that running on a path means no traffic, it also means running on an evenly paved surface. Running on the street meant a lot of me jumping either into the grass or onto the concrete sidewalks and having to stop and start a lot at intersections.

It also meant that given the amount of down wires in the area, that my pre-planned route had to be altered a bit here and there, but I still made it 14 miles. I was scheduled to do 18, but I didn't have time before I had to pick my daughter up from her father's (if only daylight's saving time had been a day earlier). Still, I'm thinking 14 is great for me, and I'll take it as a win. While I may be sore post-marathon, being able to run more consistently lately makes me confident that I'll be able to finish the marathon in under the 7 hour cutoff time. Maybe even in 6 and a half! (Though I don't want to get too confident). I'm going along with my slow and steady mantra.

Anyway, my run on Saturday was difficult, and while I did get a lot more honks than normal, I got a lot of odd looks. I couldn't help but wonder if people were judging me for being out running while people were still without power, but honestly, I looked at the people spending three hours sitting in line to get gas for their cars and angrily shouting at each other (and getting in fender benders... I saw two during the course of my run) like they were crazy, so I guess the feeling was mutual.

Still, I finished and happily waved and thanked every power person I saw along the way for how hard they were working, and even got to see an amazing sunrise over a very distant New York City in the horizon. So it was a beautiful day... even if my knees STILL hate me for all the running on the hard concrete sidewalks in my not as supportive shoes. Thankfully, the marathon is back on tar, which should make my aging knees happy.

Tonight I squeeze in a training run with Tara, who felt in the mood to do some interval sprinting tonight. Or at least she felt like I should do it, while she set and controlled the speed on the treadmill. While I still felt like I was going to puke afterwards, I did four high level intervals before I felt like I was going to die (and a few moderate level ones), as opposed to the one high level one I struggled through a month before. And she didn't give me long walk breaks like she used to. She thinks that I'm making progress, and I know that after the hill training treadmill workout she gave me for the last couple sessions, I am running up hills A LOT better. So something is finally kicking in.

And when I returned home I had my confirmation email from the Philadelphia Marathon. I looked at it and had a good laugh when I realized that months ago when I registered, I put down to finish in under 6 hours. While that's the goal in the back of my mind, the bigger goal is just to finish my first (and possibly only) marathon. It might be doable, I can run a couple miles way faster than that pace, but my time starts to trail off the longer I go. But I'm not going to worry about time, so long as I keep ahead of the cut off. I'm just going to take it step-by-step and focus on crossing the finish line in a relatively upright position. And maybe even enjoy the scenery along the way... maybe.

Holy Cow! I Finally Feel Like An Actual Runner (or Jogger At Least)

I was originally supposed to do a half-marathon today (as part of my ramping up for my marathon in a month), but because of my earlier Achilles' injury this fall (and because no one ever replied to my email to answer my question about pace times), I ended up not signing up like I had planned. But that's OK, because today I ended up having the best run of my life (so far, I hope) and it was two whole miles longer than the half marathon would have been.

For the past year in a half (or maybe a little longer, I tend to block out the painful running memories), I've been struggling to run. I've done a bunch of 5Ks, a few four mile races and even a half marathon last February. But through all those things, and all my training, I never was able to consistently run (or jog) for the entirety. While I do believe in Jeff Galloway's Run-Walk-Run method, and it has gotten me far, I really just wanted to have that feeling of truly going the distance running the whole way.

I've been working with my trainer Tara at the gym to do some intervals to help me increase my speed, but today's run wasn't about speed (good thing, since my miles ranged from 11:30 to 14:30 in pace), today's run was about trying to run for as long as I could. Tara and my dad, have both been telling me for ages that the reason I end up running for a mile and then walking for a bit, or running for 5 minutes and then walking a minute, wasn't because of my conditioning or my athletic ability, but because of my brain. All my "but my legs hurt" or "I can't breathe" are just apparently excuses from my mind, according to them. It does make sense, as I was the kid in high school who sucked wind finishing the obligatory mile around the track, and maybe once or twice hid behind the bleachers so the teacher would think I'd done more laps around the outdoor track than I actually had. I never cheated in academics, but gym was not my thing.

So while I've been doing a bunch of training "runs" leading up to the marathon, of varying lengths, today's was the longest... at 15.1 miles. It's the furthest I've ever even attempted, even doing a run-walk method. I mean, I did hike about 25 miles a few weekends ago, but that's slow and walking and a totally different medium. There's something different about the repetitive pounding of running on the multi-use path near my house for over three hours. I'd rather climb mountains. Or do anything. Really anything. Me and running, we may have come to a mutual tolerance, but its never going to be my sport of choice. Its always going to be a chore.

My goal going out today wasn't to run the entire 15 miles. And yes, according to my marathon plan I should be up to 18 at this point, but my training is all messed up because of injuries and whatnot, and now I'm just trying to the best that I can, in order to get as good as I can before marathon day on Nov. 18th. Anyway, my goal for myself was to run three miles straight, not worrying about speed or anything, just running without taking a break for walking. And I did. I kept my heart rate pretty low, around 140, and noticed that when I got up around 155 or so that my breathing got more labored, and decided that today was about endurance and not getting under an 11 minute mile. So I jogged along. And at the 5K mark (3.2 miles) I was feeling good. Not fast, but good. So I kept going, and decided I'd try to get to 5 miles.

At mile 5, I still felt good, so long as I didn't rush my pace too much, when I did push it, the achey knees and heavy breathing started up. But at mile 6, I had to make a quick pit stop where I refilled my water, sucked down a GU energy gel (my new savior) and made a fast dash into the potty. I knew there wouldn't be another chance for another 8 miles. So I walked for a few minutes out of the ladies, to get my legs back in gear, and then after about 30 seconds or so, got back to my slow and steady pace.

At mile 8, I actually felt awesome. Perhaps the elusive runner's high that I've never truly experienced, or the sugar rush from the energy gel (I'm betting its this one), but I was honestly thinking that maybe I'd extend my run beyond the 14/15 I'd planned to the full 18. I know, craziness. But I felt great, and looking at my Nike GPS breakdown, I did some negative splits at that point and was running about a full minute to a minute and a half faster than the 14:00 I'd been doing for a few miles. It was probably the best I've ever felt running. I was smiling at people passing by in the other direction, singing along to my music on my headphones (yes, I'm aware this makes me look/sound insane) and feeling pretty fantastic.

At mile 9.5, I saw a woman wipe out and stopped to check to make sure she was OK (she was) and then about 2/10s of a mile later, my hamstrings tightened up. Lesson learned? Don't stop, it hurts more to restart. I did some lunges and stretches, and felt pretty OK. Well, until mile 11.That's where I felt like I was going to die and just wanted to stop and walk for the rest of the four miles back to where I'd parked my car. Side note: I hate that I have to drive to go running, but the paths are so much nicer than running the dangerous streets around me that it is worth the 15 minute drive... at least until I have to get my legs to function to drive home.

And I could have walked the rest of the four miles, and still felt like I'd had a successful day. After all, my goal was to see if I could run for three miles straight, and I'd well surpassed that. But the idea of walking for four more miles, and tacking on probably at least another 15 minutes to this long journey didn't appeal. I just wanted to be done. So I grabbed a second GU (which I hadn't planned on using, but kept in case of emergency), did some quick hamstring stretches and got back on the track after less than a minute break.

Then I slow-jogged (like a slow jam for the running set?) the rest of the way (unfortunately, these last miles is where 90 percent of the hills (which aren't big, but are still hills) on this path are. And I kept jogging at a snail's pace, but did manage to pass a woman with a cane and a motley crew of kids wobbling around on their bikes, so I'll take that as a small victory. And then I started cursing at the inanimate mile markers on this path. Why do they need to be every one tenth of a mile? Why couldn't they be at the half or quarter mile points? I felt like the markers were somehow taunting me making me seem like I was going nowhere really slowly.

But eventually, I saw my car. And nearly started crying with relief. To go from run/walking to doing 15 miles in one stretch, took quite toll on my legs... and my spirit towards the end. But I did it! And I'm super happy about that, as I sit on the couch with my legs screaming at me even four hours later. Which means that I may have broken through that mental barrier that was keeping me from actually doing more running than walking. I can't wait to tell Tara and my dad.

The upside is that I feel better about doing the marathon than I have since I signed up. I really imagined that I'd get shuffled to the half marathon end because I couldn't keep the 16 mile pace up for 26 miles, but my GPS told me that only once (around mile 11, did I even get close to hitting 15:00. So if I keep up my random Angel schedule of training for the next month, I believe I may finish this thing without getting a DNF. And given that this may be the only marathon I ever do (unless I go crazy in my late 40's and do a full Iron Man), it would be awesome to have that medal as proof that I went 26.2 whole miles and ran/jogged the whole way, instead of walked the majority of it.

Training Just As Much As I Can

I've read a ton of guides on how to train for a marathon, and even a bunch on how to juggle busy schedules, but none of them really take into consideration the single mom. While I can drop my 6-year-old off at the gym babysitting area for an hour on occasion, that doesn't really do me that much good. So instead of being able to train the recommended days a week for running, I'm lucky to squeeze in two or three days with my hectic life.

 That's not to say that I don't do other exercise on the other days. On the early mornings and nights that my daughter is with her dad, I usually get in a bootcamp class or a training session to help with my overall weight loss goals. A yoga class to help with my sanity. An interval running session with my trainer once a week and then usually a long run and another short run if I'm lucky.

And my daughter and I walk home from school, or all around town to go to the library or the movies, or hiking. So I'm more than active in my non-work/commuting time, even when I do have my child, but I don't have the luxury that most of these training manuals do. They all suggest getting up early to run. Love it! But what am I supposed to do while my kid is asleep? They all say to enlist your spouse to be on baby duty. Not an option and I'm pretty sure that child protective services would have something to say about me leaving my kid and running 4-6 miles in the morning while she's snoozing. Or even leaving her so that I could go down to the gym in my building's lobby.

I have an elliptical trainer in my house that I can use, but that's not the same as the pounding of running, and honestly I can't afford a decent treadmill at this point. So I'm doing my best. I don't know if it will be enough. I'm not a natural runner at all. I still do a lot of walking, as I can really only run for about 5 minutes before I need to slow down.

The interval training is definitely helping, and everyone around me seems pretty confident that I can do this marathon in the allotted 7 hours, even if I have to crawl at a 16 minute mile pace across the finish line. I just worry that between a recent injury to my ankle and my abbreviated training, that I won't be quite at the same level as everyone else come race day. Then again, I did manage to finish my triathlon with the aforementioned tendon issue, in a slower than I wanted, but not totally unrespectable time last month. Maybe I'm just worrying for nothing, but I've got a feeling that I'm not going to get much of a good night's sleep in the weeks before the Philadelphia marathon arrives.

The Low Iron Woman

Lately I've been feeling sluggish and had a real negative outlook on the chances of me actually being able to finish my marathon in November. Running just seemed next to impossible, and even my speed walking had slowed to a deathly pace. And while I can normally function pretty well on 5 to 6 hours of sleep a night, even 8 didn't seem like nearly enough. And halfway through any exercise, be it my yoga or training or whatever, I just felt wiped out. This was not the Angel I've fought so hard to become over the last two years.

And, as I mentioned recently, my weight loss had pretty much come to a standstill. In talking to my weight loss consultant, she suggested that I go get bloodwork done (which I scheduled, despite my lack of interest in doctors). But during our conversation, she told me about another client who had a similar problem, but turned out to be anemic. Well, at that point in the conversation my ears perked up. I have such a healthy diet filled with beans and green vegetables and some red meat that it could be a problem. In high school I survived on pizza, doritos and ice cream, so iron deficiency made more sense. I was later telling a friend that if I wasn't single, someone would probably think I was abused because I'd been getting crazy bruises really easily. Like a mere graze against a book shelf and my arm is black. Also, a major sign of iron deficiency.

So while I'm adding lots more spinach to my diet (trying to make up for all the watermelon I was eating this summer, which is apparently high in iron and maybe kept my levels up), for the next few days I'm also taking a supplement. In only five days, I feel so much better and back to my normal self, though I'm still keeping my upcoming doc appointment just to make sure there's not something else weird going on.

I may have my energy back, but I'm still having mild anxiety attacks about the marathon though... Is it normal to wake up at 2 AM in a cold sweat thinking you should be out running?

My Crazy Summer Event Schedule!

I didn't get into the New York Marathon, and while I was momentarily sad about that, I've quickly found plenty of ways to fill my time (and spend the money I had set aside for the race). I'm not planning on taking a real vacation this year (unless I win the lotto), so doing these events will keep me busy and give me plenty to look forward to, and keep my legs hurt just at the thought of all the training I have ahead of me.

Tour de Chocolate Town (June 3rd) -- a century ride (100 Miles) through Hershey, PA.

Rugged Maniac (July 14th)- Manalapan, NJ, A 5K Obstacle course that looks bananas.

Maine State Triathlon (August 5th)-- a nearly Olympic length triathlon in Bethel, ME. And I get to visit my parents.

Danskin Sprint Triathlon (September 9th) - A sprint triathlon in Sandy Hook, NJ. I did it last year and loved it (was my first "race" of any kind. Looking forward to finishing even faster this time!

Philadelphia Marathon (November 18th) -- My very first marathon. And my personal consolation "prize" for not getting into the NY Marathon.

There's a chance that I may do the NJ Tough Mudder the weekend of Oct. 20th and 21st. But that's ONLY if my brother signs up. I'd do that with him, but not alone. There's a lot of training ahead, plus plenty of hiking and other things (maybe even a relaxing day at the beach or two) but I'm looking forward to my crazy summer.