![]() On Saturday June 8, 2019 I raced a 10k in shorts and crew socks, for what feels like the first time ever in my long distance running career. Sure, I probably wore something similar in middle school cross country but that was before I ~knew about body image goals~ Come to think of it, in middle school cross country I think I wore ankle socks to make sure I wasn't drawing too much attention to my legs by having socks cut my calves in half. But, since middle school, I've faced my own demons and fears about wearing clothes that showed off my legs. It was only a few years back, read 2016, that I started to believe I could & would wear shorts to train and race in. My legs are hella thic, but you know what else, they are also hella muscular. I don't have a thigh gap, I have some cellulite, I also have stretch marks and calves that are made of steel. I own about 5 pair of crew socks that I usually use for trail runs or solo runs. But on Saturday I wanted to wear my NYC skyline crew socks for a race in the heart of New York City - Central Park! I was a little nervous, I usually wear compression socks on my shins to race to help prevent shin splints so not wearing those was also new. Furthermore, the socks made indentations on my calves so I was nervous I looked silly and fat, but the socks felt great and breathable on my feet so I went with the gut feeling to wear the crew socks. Side note, this story is self centered, makes me feel good about my body and probably no one cares what I look like running because we are all trying to put one foot in front of the other. However, as a millennial I think about a lot of how I appear to the outside world and so yeah, I care how my legs look. The ending also has to do with how not great I usually look in race photos and how my friend captured me looking happy doing what I love. Saturday was a perfect morning in New York, I was running with a friend from my regular run club in Connecticut and I felt that a PR was easily achievable! As I ran into Central Park (we started on Central Park West), I knew John was going to be waiting to see me. He doesn't usually have his phone while he runs so this was a treat that he could even take a photo of me running. I didn't see the aforementioned photo (at the top of this post) until way after the race (duh, you were running silly). But holy cow, do I LOVE this photo. I'm smiling, my legs look strong as hell, I appear to have decent form and I know I was just stupid happy to be doing what I love in the city I love. It doesn't hurt that this photo is also a memory of a new 10k PR on a hilly course, but it is more than that. I'm most definitely not the fittest, skinniest or fastest on the course, but I have worked very hard to become faster, stronger and better this year. While they are just a pair of socks, the represent the work I've put in, the negative thoughts I've overcome and happiness I feel with how strong my body is at this moment. Next Saturday (June 15) when I toe up in Queens for another 10k, I'll be wearing my New York Mets crew socks proudly. I might go buy more crew socks to add to the collection tomorrow!
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![]() If you love something, there is always a chance it breaks your heart. And sometimes you have to let it break your heart. (There's definitely a better way to say what I mean here, but with my back against the wall to write this post this is the best I can come up with) November 4, 2018 was going to be my day, I felt it. The weather was perfect, the training was complete and there was nothing left to do except run 26.2 miles through my favorite city. What happened on the streets between the Verazzano Bride and Tavern on the Green was not what I expected. Goals a) a 3:37 marathon - a guaranteed PR b) a sub-3:40 marathon c) a sub-3:45 marathon d) a PR (anything faster than 3:48:16) were not met. At mile 18 when I realized a goal that I believed was in reach was no longer going to be accomplished, I was crushed. More than crushed. Heartbroken. I felt I let myself and everyone that donated to my V Foundation efforts down. I had just seen my mom and Tom at mile 17 and I knew I'd see them again at 25.5 but with two bridges and the Bronx left, it felt like an eternity before I would finish. I ran a 3:59:21 on a beautiful sunny day in my favorite city. Mentally I went into this race stronger than ever. Physically I felt as good as 2016, when I PRed. This was my sixth time racing these streets. I had showed up to the workouts, the long runs and everything in between. I don't look like a runner, but I have dedication and the drive of one. I was proud of the work I put in for this race. The knowledge of the course was the only reason I finished sub-4, a HUGE accomplishment. I wished I wrote this post closer to when the race ended but with eight weeks to look back on it, I felt like this is the right time to express my feelings. It is humbling to have something you love let you down. I know a marathon cannot let you down, only my two legs can, but man I felt betrayed by my favorite race. For the first time the 59th Street Bridge felt like the wall everyone talks about. And I felt betrayed by my body when both my vastus medialis pulsated and cramped in the last 10 miles. I tend to cry during the end of my marathons, they are emotional roller coasters, but I had never spend the last two and half miles crying like I did in November. However, I finished another marathon in my favorite city and the weekend once again confirmed that New York looks it best on marathon weekend. Enough with being sad about how the day finished. Here's the real story of the WHOLE day (weekend). 52,705 runners crossed the finish line on Nov. 4 in Central Park. Each one with their own individual story of their training, their support system and their story of the picture perfect day in New York City. I personally knew about 10 of us in the world's largest marathon and that is pretty cool. I'd like to give you a bullet point condensed version of how things went for myself:
The race didn't end as I wanted but my friends and family who were in the city or who texted, called, FaceTimed made the weekend worth it. And seeing as this is the last day of 2018 and in a bad transition, that is my lesson from this year. The people you love and who you share your time with are what is really important. The road is a long one and nothing makes it better than having people to share it with. Life truly is a marathon, not a sprint, so make every mile count but don't forget to feel - including the heartbreaks. Thank you, New York. I'll see you in 2019. ![]() *Full disclaimer, I've been sitting on this blog post for a few weeks, I decided to post it today as it remind me of my love of the sport on a tough day in other areas of my life.* What do you do when you haven’t received entry into your favorite race? If you’re me, someone who has only known the New York City Marathon as THE activity to do on the first Sunday in November since you were born; you stand outside for six hours in misting rain cheering so loud you lose your voice. Nov. 6, 2016, I ran my personal best marathon on the world’s greatest stage. Nov. 5, 2017, I stood on Central Park South and watched history unfold in front of my eyes. I had not spectated at the race since 2010, when I was a senior in high school and couldn’t run yet due to my age. The past year has be challenging and rewarding in so many ways. I wouldn’t and couldn’t miss my favorite Sunday in New York. NYC Marathon Sunday was a fairytale dream for female able-body American long distance running. I was heartbroken for Tatyana McFadden not winning this year, but then about an hour later Shalane Flanagan was racing up Central Park South. She was on the far side of the road from me and had at least a football field lead on Mary Keitany. I was screaming and my voice was already cracking. Shalane couldn’t run her hometown Boston Marathon race in April due to injury, but here she was with a HUGE lead with a half mile left in New York! I was jumping for joy and my smile felt like it was wider than my face; I was on cloud nine. It wasn’t until later that I saw she yelled “F*** YES” as she was 100 feet from the finish line. Here’s an amazing video with a great soundtrack for it. Here's a hilarious video of her finish -- the internet is useful sometimes. A wonderful moment for Flanagan which really exemplifies the raw emotion that goes into pushing your body to the limit. Flanagan has always been a runner I admired. It helped that at last year’s NYC Marathon Expo I met her and had her sign my copy of her cookbook. But her accomplishment, something that had not happened in 40 years at the New York Marathon, gave me hope. Hope for my running career, hope that my Boston Qualifying goal will one day be reached, hope for the next generation, hope for parity in the sport of running. I will never win the New York Marathon (unless a miracle happens) and wear the famed laurel crown. But I had a lot of fun watching the race – seeing strangers inspire me, seeing college friends run a PR, meeting a random stranger at mass the night before who ran Chicago in October and then finished New York, but man did I want to be on that course. I will be back next year to run my favorite race (either through lottery or charity) and be a part of the race's storied history, not just to witness it. Chicago was an incredible marathon and I am lucky to have run it this year, but New York throws the best block party. See you next year New York, I can’t wait to run your streets again. ![]() When I was lucky enough to receive entry into the 2017 Chicago marathon, I was less than two months out from running my personal best (NYC 2016) and thought "hey let's go see what we can do on a flat course." Fast forward, five months before the race I was told I should only run three days a week during my training cycle because of a continuing nagging hamstring issue. With a month to wrap my head around that proclamation from my doctor, I began to manipulate the Hanson's Marathon Method to include swimming and cycling. Two weeks before the race, I hurt my quad, was told not to run and had to drastically rethink my goals. In less than a year's time, the goal went from maybe another PR, to maybe a sub-four hour time to half way through the race, just finish the god damn thing. And by sheer will power and a desire to not have a DNF, I did. But this isn't a post to complain about how hard the race was or how emotional the weekend was (I knew the instant I started crying climbing out of my dad's truck to enter the starting corrals it was going to be an emotional day). This is a post about being "Born to Run." I was in wave one for the first time in a marathon in my life. I was in a new marathon (for me). I was excited. New York sends each wave off with Frank Sinatra singing "New York, New York." The first song Chicago played for us was Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run." I was in pre-race heaven. I've never felt that attached to that particular Springsteen song even though I run and have a borderline unhealthy obsession with The Boss. "In the day we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream." This line rippled through my corral. There were runner's from all over the world surrounding me, but this song brought us all together and I was ready to roll. These were my streets and I was going to find my American Dream. Here's highlights/thank yous/struggles of the race for me:
Now, you maybe asking yourself how did a song I'd heard four and half hours prior come to mean so much? Well it turns out, I didn't succeed in spreading out my "Christmas presents" this year. Chicago was a gift from my mom. In return, I scored us the hottest Broadway ticket since Hamilton - Springsteen on Broadway for Saturday Oct. 14. A pretty great week of Christmas if you ask me. I've seen Bruce four times prior to Saturday. All in 15,000+ seat venues. Suddenly I was sitting in the Walter Kerr Theater on 48th Street, with less than 1,000 die-hard Springsteen fans. I've read Born to Run, I've touched Bruce on his shoulder, I've lost my voice at his concerts, I regret not going to see him play MetLife in August of 2016 to see his longest concert ever. But I had yet to cry at one of his shows. However, as he began to talk about the E Street Band and his belief that 1+1=3 if you have the right people around you, during his acoustic version on the piano of “Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out” I felt tears dripping down my cheek. The 1+1=3 mentality is how I managed to finish Chicago. The strangers on the streets, my family both blood and chosen by friendship and a can't fail mentality allowed me to cross the finish line. Bruce's Broadway show was so raw, so hauntingly beautiful, very scripted but never felt like it and so imitate it felt as Bruce was talking just to you. The show mirrors his life a bit and then transitions into the American Dream, all of which you can understand his view from his autobiography. But sitting there it felt different. And the show ends with a beautiful, slow, acoustic (guitar) version of "Born to Run." "The highway's jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive. Everybody's out on the run tonight. But there's no place left to hide." Bruce couldn't hide on a stage filled with just a Baby Grand and his guitars. I couldn't hide in the streets of Chicago even with as much pain and suffering I felt. And that was the best lesson of all during my ninth marathon: there will be strangers, loved ones, fellow runners, colleagues all out there supporting your passion. So find it, hold on to it and make it your magic trick. "Baby we were born to run" the final lyrics of a song that helped me bookend a wonderful, heartbreaking, emotionally draining and loving week in my life. It must be a positive omen for something. To Chicago, thank you; to Bruce, thank you, you've meant more in my life than just a travel companion. ![]() "You never know how strong you are until strong is the only choice you have," Bob Marley once said. In 60 days I'll toe the line for my ninth marathon but my first in the Windy City. Sixty two days ago, I ran my first run for this training cycle. I'll admit, it was a rough run, slower than I wanted, the weather was hot and I didn't want to be out there at all -- for a multitude of reasons. I've always found running as an escape, but suddenly the escape didn't seem so fun. I had alluded to this in my last blog post after the Brooklyn Half Marathon -- how I wanted to break up with running. However, now that I'm two months out from the Chicago Marathon, with a lot of self reflection, manipulating my training regimen to more reflect a triathlete's regimen and FINALLY looking at the course, I am excited. And yes, you read that correctly about the route. I don't know how long I've wanted to run this race, but it has been a long time, and I have had my acceptance since December of last year; but today I finally looked at the course route. And boy, am I pumped! This is the most unique training cycle I've attempted for any marathon. After a MRI and a few doctor visits because physical therapy wasn't completely healing my tweeted hamstring, I was told I shouldn't run more than three days a week. Believe me when I tell you there were tears (many tears) about this news, almost in the doctor's office. Nothing was torn, but it has the possibility to become torn if I kept pushing too hard. If disliked last fall when I was told to only run five days instead of six, imagine how devastated I was when I was told I could only run three. I decided that I didn't want to defer my entrance, but I wanted to be strong and give Chicago my best shot. I manipulated the Hanson's Marathon Method so only I run on Sunday, Tuesday and Thursdays. This allows me to get all the long runs, speed and strength workouts and tempo runs in. I've completed the speed portion and I'm on eight mile tempo runs already and feeling good. The other days of the week I use either swimming or cycling to get my cardio and "milage" in. Overall, I have found this method to be successful enough to give me confidence on my running days but not do any more harm to the hamstring. I even feel like a more rounded athlete and the change has allowed me to play golf, softball and tennis this summer without an issue. I am not aiming for a Boston Qualifying time in Chicago and probably not even a personal best, so I am feeling fairly confident in my training. I want to share two new mottos I have acquired -- besides my running mantras: "Stop at Never" and "Define Yourself." A friend turned me onto Kelly Roberts' podcast earlier this summer. I haven't listened to all episodes, but I really do believe in her "No Excuses, No Regrets" motto that she used before running the London Marathon in April. I've also enjoyed become a part of the #SportsBraSquad. The second, I got from Peter King's MMQB on July 31. If an opening line of a column is "This is going to be a great column. Springsteen and U2 are in it," you can bet your bottom dollar I'll load it all in. To make a long story short, King learned of a motto for the Cowboys this year: "Recommit ... Every Day." It was derived out of Bruce Springsteen's autobiography. As an avid (that's an understatement) Bruce fan and a person who enjoyed the autobiography, I was sold. Some days getting out of bed during these first two months of training were the hardest part of my day. Repeating these two new mantras have helped in a small way. But once I get out of bed, I never regret completing my workout. The next 60 days are going to be intense. My job demands are going to increase, my body is going to expect more out of me during training and I don't know how much sleep I'll get. But some things are for certain, I cannot wait to be Chicago for race weekend, my family will be there to support me and I'll get to watch Penn State football play the day before. ![]() I never thought there'd be a day where I wanted to break up with running. Sure there are plenty of days I didn't want to run or I dreaded going on a treadmill for a training run, but never had I felt I wanted to break up with something that brought me so much joy. However, on May 20, 2017 while running the country's largest half marathon -- the Airbnb Brooklyn Half Marathon -- that's all I wanted to do: quit. In the last 15 months I got injured with a hamstring injury that annoyed me enough to go to physical therapy, ran three half marathons, including one that was a PR, and one marathon which resulted in a PR. I tried to take time off, I know two weeks isn't "time off" but I was itching to get out there. Now I look back and wish I hadn't wanted to complete the Runner's World Challenge from Thanksgiving to Christmas. Then I convinced myself that I would take time off in the new year -- I did for the first two months. But when I started to run again, the hamstring didn't feel better. Brooklyn was supposed to be a spring board into my Chicago Marathon training that is supposed to start May 28. I thought Brooklyn was long enough after my time off that I could return to being in shape enough to post a respectable time. And if I tell you my time and that I was faster than 50% of the the field, you'll tell me I am crazy not to think that was a respectable time. However after a year of PR's and coming off of your best marathon performance you start to think you always have to break your own records. Running has always been a bright spot in my life. But, now it is something I loath doing and get nervous each time I'm out on the road. I've gotten an MRI so I know there is no tear in my hamstring, but my mind keeps playing tricks on me so I'm never too sure how far to push it these days. I see posts on social media about Chicago and I get sad because I don't know if I'll be able to PR there -- something that should be "easy" on such a flat course and something I definitely expected once I got through New York. For weeks I've questioned why I run. I run so I get outside some part of the day, I run for exercise, I run so I can eat all the ice cream and cake I want. But there's also a large part of me that runs because I know it is a way to keep me somewhat skinny and confident with my body, something I've struggled with my entire life. This is not a post to "woe-is-me" about my body image, but a large part of me for the last two weeks has questioned if I adjust my workout plans, will I be as happy with my body as when I am in peak marathon training shape? I honestly don't know and that scares me. I know I have to work on cross training and getting cardio other ways than running, but I don't get a high from being in the gym on a day I could be outside so it frightens the crap out of me if I will be able to be as fit without running as much. So as May 28 is four days away, I will join gym with a pool, start to focus on my sleep, recovery, stretching, eating and anything else that can aid my running for when I get to run. I hope I want to get my feet and the road back together and I hope that my bucklist will be able to have some more things checked off this year, but I just don't know. And at 24-years-old, maybe that is okay.
Welcome to the median of 2016 -- we are halfway from Jan 1st and Dec 31st today. A lot has happened in the first half: love, loss and happiness, but most of all, I am still (relatively) healthy in the running department.
Reflecting on how the 2016 Goals I set at the end of 2015 are going:
It has been an interesting first half of 2016, mostly overshadowed by the fact that I got injured in February and couldn't run the full marathon I wanted in March. However, with the help of PT, a resilient mind and a hell of a lot of determination I hope NYC 2016 is my Boston unicorn. If not, it will be another fun day running my favorite race. Besides the injury, I have had some extreme highs and extreme lows throughout the first six months, but I wouldn't trade them for anything. With extreme confidence I can say that I am very happy and living an amazing life. Here's to more adventures and miles in the second half. July 6th marks the official start of my NYC training and while I won't be posting every day, I plan on keeping you up to date on how the journey is progressing. "Progress is rarely a straight line. There are always bumps in the road, but you make the choice to keep looking ahead." -- Kara Goucher
According to my own math, I am 26 days away from my next race -- VA Beach/Shamrock Marathon. However, 18 days ago I "injured" my high hamstring. I use quotations around injured because I have not been to a doctor, but I have taken the advice of many of my running friends/gurus to assess the situation. RICE has become my best friend, I even started to like the 18-mile stationary bike rides -- mostly because I have FINALLY caught up with the current season of Serial and Modern Love podcasts --. But I digress, I am really writing this post because of a story a person I follow on twitter retweeted today. The story -- "How Social Media Killed My Run" -- a little ironic as I will post this blog on both Facebook and Twitter, has at least three really excellent points, but also a lot more than three. Below I will hit on those three and how it hit a little home to my current situation. I also want you to reread the quote on the top of this post -- it was today's quote from my MilePost app (it gives me an encouraging running quote everyday at 6 a.m.). Between the article, Kara's quote and me going to physical therapy tomorrow morning at 8 a.m. for the hamstring, I thought this post would be perfect timing. First "There was the time I pushed myself in mileage and pace too soon after an injury because I saw other injured runners jump right back into training. They returned from injury the same time I did. If they could do it, why couldn’t I?" This quote a direct hit to my current situation. Before Feb. 5, I only did not finish two of the 72 workouts I had logged during my training cycle. Since Feb. 14 (after I pushed through a 9 mile tempo run outside at goal marathon pace) I have been very cautious. I will admit I have been suffering from mild depression in these 18 days that I haven't been able to run. Mainly because my training cycle was going SO well, I was hitting pace times and this is the third time I have tried to qualify for Boston and gosh darn it if I wasn't going to make it. Trying to get fast is not only physically draining but very very mentally draining as well. Second "But bad runs happen to everyone. It’s a normal part of the training cycle. You learn as much from those experiences as the good ones because they force you to dig deep and find mental strength and confidence to persevere." I have had more than my fair share of bad runs both during this training cycle and throughout my running career. I believe running a marathon is about 60% physical and 40% mental, but a bad run is 100% mental. These runs build character; they allow you to break through the wall. Having a bad run on an easy day is nothing, but I've gone through a bad run on a tempo workout and the feeling of accomplishment when I finished was overwhelming. However, even a bad run is better than no run and what I would have given to have had bad runs instead of being on the stationary bike is indescribable. Third "Maybe we all need to share more of the bad along with the good to show the ups and downs and rich texture of what it means to be a runner, not just the perfect image." This sentence, the last one in the article, is what spring boarded me into writing this post. I have shared how hard a run was and still posted a photo after a race, but I have shied away from posting the time it wasn't a PR or more recently if I didn't qualify for Boston -- something I have set as my goal for my last two marathon. Here's the thing, the good the bad and the ugly all qualify as you getting your foot out the door and going on that run. The selfie, post run picture and time might not be the best or a PR, but you are lucky if you get to go on the run. I would like to go back to a point about the depression I felt during these 18 days. I have gone from feeling angry to acceptance back to anger to rationalizing the injury back to anger to completely breaking down and I am currently in a state of acceptance and taking it one day at a time. If all had gone according to plan, which I should know it never does, I would complete 108 running workouts before the race. But that won't be the case. I know at least 73 have been completed to the best of their ability, I have run the marathon distance seven times and I know with 26 days to go, I am hoping to make it to the start line. Getting to the starting line healthy is more than half the battle. I want and have worked hard to try for a Boston qualifying time, but I also know that if I cross the finish line over 3:35 (my BQ time) I will still get the same medal and have another 26.2 under my belt. A week ago I would not have had that perspective, I would have still be upset about my hamstring and potentially seeing all my hard work and dedication go out the window. Now that is not to say my physical therapist and I can get me back in time to go 100% on March 20, but it is to say there is more than meets the runner. So go on and share the bad run, the hard workout and the tireless effort it takes to drag yourself out of bed for that run. And as Kara Goucher has inspired me today, I chose to keep looking forward. It has been two months and 22 days since my last post. If you follow me on twitter or know me personally, you know I didn't Boston Qualify in Hartford (or NYC -- a far far fetched dream). As I sit on my couch on the penultimate day in 2015, I find it fitting to reflect on the year (both running and personal) and not make resolutions, but to add to the goal list. Here's how my 2015 went in a nutshell (a very condensed nutshell):
Regrets/Dreams that weren't accomplished:
There could be a lot more for each list, both those really are the highlights (and some lowlights of 2015). As you can imagine, not BQing really stung. However, as I am in week 7 of training for the Shamrock Marathon, I am feeling mentally and physically stronger than when I went into Hartford. Two mottos are going to define my 2016 and I'll share them with you: "Go the extra mile, it is never crowded." - some plaque I got for Christmas (thanks, Mom) "Define yourself." - Deena Kastor From my running shoes to yours, I wish you all the best in 2016 and may your life be filled with love. |
Megan FloodMegan is 29 and a 14-time marathoner. She is hoping to Boston Qualify one day. She doesn't know exactly how this blogging will go, but she is giving it her best shot! Archives
June 2019
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Marathoning Megan