Posts Tagged ‘deena kastor’

The leaders in the women's race, coming off Mile 5 along Memorial Drive.

For some reason, I didn’t get any photos of the men’s race. My friend @tejasrunnergirl took a fantastic one of their butts, which you can view here (along with her fantastic blog report of being my primary support crew at the Houston Half-Marathon.) Do click through and observe the wondrous spectacle that is the rear view of male marathoners.

The women, turning into their first out and back along Waugh Drive, about a quarter mile short of Mile 7.

The women pulling away from Mile 13 along Memorial Drive, you can pick out Kara and Janet Cherobon-Bawcom (5th place finisher)

Desiree Davila, Shalane Flanagan, and Kara Goucher crank into Mile 22 along Memorial Drive

Deena Kastor, heading up Waugh Drive with about 3.5 miles to go. She would finish 6th.

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After I added up the mileage of another week of running (28.23 miles), I took a minute to flip back through my log for the year. 2009 is very nearly done, the next twelve days will be the easy, first two weeks of my training for the Virgin London Marathon. It’s remarkable, the story my log tells me. As I flip through January, February and March (the months leading up to my injury), I see the words sluggish, pain, hamstring, weak, tired, awful, and bummer over and over again. Until finally, on March 26th, the day after my 36th birthday, it comes to an abrupt halt. I ran 5 miles in 51:02, home from work, and my notes say “Rainy. Left hamstring very sore.”  A string of days noted as HURT-PT is followed by weeks of blank pages; it rips my heart out to flip past them.  Even though I was going to PT, doing my rehab at the gym, and slowly building mileage on the treadmill, nothing is recorded until June 5th, when I ran 1.79 miles in 14:58 around my neighborhood. Thus started my slow build–with a set-back in late August when I aggravated my injury during a Nike Speed session–back to where I am now, winning a local Duck Trot and setting a PR in the 15k. Even though my training log may seem aloof in its lack of complete sentences or even much description beyond a word like “zippy,” it is one of the most emotional reads I’ve ever experienced. In many respects, my training logs are the most personal accounts of my life, though to see the intimate details one would have to be able to read between the lines.

Earlier this year, Deena Kastor told an audience in the New York Times building that before her big races, she looked back through her training logs for the pink workouts. Those were the ones she nailed, highlighted in pink as noteworthy and successful. Deena takes heart in the blur of pink she sees as she flicks the pages. I take heart in the progression of my words over the months, from “tired” to “amazing,” and from “hurt” to “strong.” I am encouraged by the number of workouts I have had side by side with people who I love.

How do you track the progress of your running life? What do you read between the lines of your training log that moves you, inspires you, reveals you? In what do you take heart, when it comes time to stand at the starting line?

I have a bunch of 2010 training logs for a few of you, sent over by my friend Phil, who has been designing and printing training logs for runners for nearly 3 decades. Check it out. This is how it works: everyone who posts a comment gets entered for a chance to win a 2010 training log. I’ll pick the winners a week from today (December 27th) so you have them in time for the New Year.

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I’ve been looking forward to this event for weeks–the TimesTalk with Grete Waitz, Joan Benoit Samuelson and Deena Kastor. I bought my ticket nearly a month ago, always with the intent of this being my date night with myself. (Am I the only social misfit who loves the solo date? I even got spiffed up and put on extra make-up! I wore my red high heels!) I didn’t want anyone interfering with my unabashed adoration of and riveted attention for these world-class marathoners.

They took the stage about 15 minutes late, which I blamed on Lance. Surely he was being a prince and arrived in his own sweet time. Regular readers will know I’m no fan–I get indignant about all the special treatment and media he got the few times he ran marathons; and at how lightly he took his preparation the first time out (so disrespectful and arrogant); and how the organizers of the Boston Marathon let him break a tape when he crossed the finish line.  That he shoehorned his way on to the panel, tainting which was otherwise a celebration of female marathon greats, totally annoyed me!  He got the most enthusiastic applause when the panelists were introduced–boy did that really piss me off. Runners are always competing for a bigger piece of the sports media pie, so to have their panel usurped by Schmance Warmstrong, on the eve of one of our sport’s greatest events (our one big chance to have full attention on running), was nearly enough for me to show up with a bag of rotten tomatoes. (If only I didn’t throw like a girl…)

I’d decided to ignore everything he had to say. Fingers on ears. Low humming. Noo Schmance, I can’t hear yoooouuu!

When Grete, Joanie, and Deena took the stage, the hairs stood up on the back of my neck and tears welled up in my eyes. These women–they have done so much for the sport, and for women in the sport! Their stories, efforts and accomplishments have kept me running and pushing through long runs, speed workouts, and injury recovery. And there they were, on the stage, ready to dispense wisdom and humor, for me! Oh, this was going to be a very, very good date night.

Tara Parker-Pope (she blogs at NYTimes.com and has been training for NYC, her first marathon) did an excellent job as moderator. She really knew the stories of each athlete and of other professional runners–her expertise came through in her questions, responses, and commentary. So, um, I took notes. Perhaps one would even call them copious. I’m just going to type them up here for you. (Yes, I am blushing at my display of massive geekiness. I can only hope you find them charming, both the blushing and the geekiness.)

Grete: [she looks so young! wearing warm-up pants & jacket] Her hardest marathon was the one she ran with Fred Lebow.
Joanie: [also wearing warm-up pants & jacket] Finished every race she’s ever started.
Deena: [wearing a pretty black dress and jumper with floral embroidery across the right shoulder] Finished 6th in Chicago this year because she had to use the toilets.
Grete: she took a potty pause twice (once crouched between 2 cars; the other time she just peed on herself while running) but managed to win the NYC marathon each time
Lance: [wearing jeans and a cool gray windbreaker. suspiciously tan] Admitted he “weaseled” his way in when he saw the TimesTalk advertised in the paper a week or so ago.
Grete: Ran a negative split her first marathon (her longest training run had been 12 miles!) by 4 minutes. She was a miler (best Mile = 4:25; best 1500 meters = 4 flat) in her home country of Norway.
Joanie: The first time she ran Boston, she asked a guy on the course when they were going to pass the Heartbreak Hills only to be told she had already run over them.
Lance: When queried if he was looking at triathlons again, he replied, “I look at them… on TV.” But then said that in 2011 he may do “a couple of Ironmans.” Just a couple? Pussy!

Grete: After her cancer treatments, she became a couch potato. Lance sent her an email (they had never met before) which motivated herto begin training again.
Lance: “It was a simple note. I had to really think about what I was going to say. I mean, it was Grete Waitz!”

Grete: In your training, it’s okay to “hurry slowly” towards improvement.

On this buzzable New York Times piece about marathon plodders:

Grete: Running with fast-walk breaks is fine.
Joanie: As the marathon is getting slower, it is also getting faster. It’s about achieving the goals you set for yourself. [She didn’t sound entirely convinced that she was OK with the plodders. Just my impression.]
Deena: Marathoners get to the starting line with mutual respect because everyone there has put in the work for the event.
Lance: The majority of the sport’s participants are slow. “Majority rules!” When Tara countered that the article posited that the plodders were removing the mystique of the sport, Lance replied “Well the marathon was very mystical for me.”

Deena: Mantra from her first Chicago Marathon, “Define Yourself.”
Joanie: Mantra from 1984 Olympics, “The Last Shall Come First, and the First Shall Come Last.”

When asked about how to overcome injuries and massive physical setbacks:

Grete: Move through recovery with a supportive circle of friends, family and coaches/teammates
Lance: Some people pump you up; other people drain you. Dump the drains and collect the pumps.
Deena: No matter your level of fitness or capability, it’s important for all runners to set goals for themselves, even if they seem like impossible goals, and to work towards them. Then look at how your life has changed and improved in pursuit of your goals, even if you fall short of them. [I nearly rushed the stage to fall at her feet in gratitude when she said this.]

Lance: On how he deals with the inevitable emotional vacuum after a race, “Drink!… Heavily.” [This may have been the point where I agreed to cut him a little bit of slack.]
Lance: Sports live and die (as far as spectator popularity and TV coverage) by the stories the athletes have to tell.
Grete: In a marathon, the first 20 miles is transportation.  Then start running.

Needless to say, I was entranced the entire panel, completely delighted by the women and ultimately willing to listen to Lance. He did beat the “humbled by the marathon” drum pretty loudly throughout the event. Grete was the biggest populist of them all, just very good-natured. Joanie had a bit of that New England no-nonsene sternness to her; she conserved her words. Deena seemed like a reflective, eloquent and positive California girl. Even though each of the four panelists told stories I’d read before, I will never forget what it was like to listen to my heros in person.


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I wish this was an April Fool’s prank, but unfortunately this is no joke. My left hamstring is either inflammed or strained, and I’m officially on the DL. No running for at least another week (I haven’t run since Thursday, March 26th), maybe more depending on how I respond to rest & physical theraphy, which I now have twice a week. I am going to my sports medicine doctor tomorrow to beg for anti-inflammatories and an MRI to rule out a microtear.

It’s pretty painful. The muscle is hurt at the origin, at the point where it attaches to my glute; and the injury is deep enough that it’s even affecting my adductor in the groin area. The really disheartening part is that I’ve been here before–I had the exact same injury two years ago, so I know the treatment and I remember how long it took me to feel strong and 100% last time. At the office today I moved slowly, and was the weirdo standing up intermittently in all my meetings. It just hurts to be seated for longer than 15 minutes at a time.

Tonight was my first physical therapy session, and my therapist DN was much kinder with me today than when she evaluated me. Yesterday, she poked and prodded and rubbed to get the blood flowing around the affected area, which basically meant she was massaging my butt and inner thigh.  It was uncomfortable–I don’t mean awkward, though given the affected area, it was that, too–and I limped out of there last night. Today, I was limping before I even got there, chastened by a thoughtless attempt to scamper across an intersection to make the light–the sharp pain of acceleration brought tears to my eyes. So, I felt lucky when all DN did was gently rub the bottom half  of my hamstring and adductor muscle, to lessen the tug on the upper half. Then, I got 15 minutes of electric stim and ice, and finally she taped the back of my leg with that fancy tape the Olympic athletes used last summer.

I have no idea if I’ll be able to run London in 25 days. DN makes no promises, but her plan is to treat me to give me the best shot at enough recovery so I can “make my goal event.” Right now I am trying hard to not think that far ahead, and not think beyond the day I’m currently in. I’m pretty crushed simply by the way my body is no longer reliable, forget trying to get my head around the possibility of not running on April 26th. I just can’t go there.

Today, as I gimped my way back to my desk after the third meeting of the day, I thought of Deena Kastor. I always look to the elites while training, why not while inured? I remembered the way she had to drop out of the Olympic Marathon in August at the 5k mark because she’d broken her foot; I thought of the look of panic and naked disappointment on her face, all caught on camera so viewers around the world could see her crying at the side of the road; I thought of how she had months and months of recuperation, during most of which she couldn’t even run. I thought of how gracefully and courageously she handled her setback, and I was reminded that running isn’t just about speed and endurance, but it is also about mental toughness, and strength of character. (Visit her website and read her blog entries starting with August 23rd if you want to see these qualities in practice.)

2009 has been a pretty crappy year: I should have known what awaited me when I had to stay home sick & in bed on New Year’s Eve. It’s been three months of having the rug pulled out from under me, of self-doubt and abiding worry for those closest to me, of having to work triple-hard for the smallest results in all things. There have been happy moments with friends & family that shine through–I am not so self-absorbed as to ignore my blessings. But now that I have this injury, I can’t help but feel like it’s all some kind of  test, and that my response to these challenges will determine what is to come next.

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Hello September, nice to see you again, but would you mind coming back later? I’m a bit busy at the moment with my earlier appointment….. Here are some tasty links for you to enjoy with your morning coffee and eggs (at least, that’s what I’m doing)…. JMW, my “Elipses” inspiration, passed me a link which I love so much I invited him to dinner next week. Jennifer Schuessler, blogging at Paper Cuts, is training for a marathon, and so posted obliquely about Murakami’s memoir, but she also brought up the old news that Once a Runner is at the top of the most-requested out of print books list. Shocker. We, of course, already know that it’s going to be published by S&S in Spring 2009 (here’s the pre-order link–beautiful jacket if you ask me), but clearly Jen’s not quite there yet. In any event, the best part of the post is the comments, even John L. Parker, Jr. himself adds a few choice words to the dialogue…  If you want to know if you fit the criteria of the “Core Runner Profile” as established by Running USA, click here to match up your demographic informatmation to that of the “typical” US male & female distance runner….. Even more interesting is the U.S. Road Race Trends Report, which breaks down participation in all distances of road races in 2007, and compares it to earlier years and breaks it out by gender. Basically, road running is “in,” and “up,” but tell us something we don’t know.  Here’s a chunky nugget: women’s participation in road races is finally even with that of men…. This interview with author and scholar Daniel Mendelsohn has nothing to do with running, I link to it only out of affection–he wrote one of the most beautiful books I’ve ever read (The Lost) and I love what he said to his doctor about Prednisone…. and the only reason this has anything to do with my blog is because running through the city streets and parks is the most quintessentially New Yorker thing I’ll admit to doing…. and lastly, our girl Deena has posted a letter on her website with an update on her health. Big hugs, Deena.

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I’d set three different reminders for myself about the Women’s Olympic Marathon, so I would be sure to not miss a minute of coverage. As if I could forget! Even Husband had the schedule burned into his brain, since I called dibs on the TV for this Saturday night (and next Saturday, for the men’s) weeks ago. (Yes, we only have one TV. Cool, right?) My friend TS, the woman I met when Deena, Magda and Blake came to sign autographs at Central Park in June, had since moved to London for work (lucky bitch) but we’d vowed to BlackBerry each other throughout the marathon to compare US and UK coverage. She started the marathon countdown a week ago, god love her.

After my 8-mile tempo run, and hours of restless puttering, Husband took pity on me and we went to Wilkes-Barre to catch an afternoon showing of Batman: The Dark Knight. A fantastic movie, my only complaint being Christian Bale was shirtless in only one scene. On the way home we played “Who’s Hottest to You?” For me, Clive Owen trumped Bale and Johnny Depp, and Husband settled on Natalie Portman over Pam Anderson and Scarlett Johanson.

We quickly slapped together some dinner, and I planted myself in front of the television. TS and I started emailing frantically back and forth — Can you see Deena? Oh there’s Blake on the right! Liz Yelling is still leading. Please don’t mock me when I reveal to you: I cried for Deena when she had to drop out due to a foot injury at the 5k. Not sobbing, but tears of shock, disappointment, and sympathy. I wanted to hug her, but instead I commiserated with TS, who was just as broken-hearted as I was. (This morning, reports confirm she broke her foot.) Huge wishes to Deena for a swift recovery and return to form.

But, the race went on, and we rooted for Blake, and Magda, who dropped out somewhere between 15K and 20K with a knee injury. Again, NBC coverage sucks — I had no idea until I read that this morning; I clearly have givne them too much credit for at least covering our US atheletes. At some point, TS emailed saying that Liz Yelling had taken a tumble and had a huge bruise; again, we never even saw that here. When Constantina made her break, I was thrilled–someone had to do it, and Constantina Tomescu-Dita provides plenty of reasons to root for her. First, she’s 38, the second-oldest woman in the field that day. Also, she’s had a splendid career, winning Chicago in 2004 and coming in second after Deena in 2005 (if you’ve seen Spirit of the Marathon, you’ll recall that gutsy finish), but never quite getting that first-class reputation. I got choked up again when Constantina entered the Bird’s Nest Stadium, hearing the roar go up from the crowd, her blowing kisses. Catherine “the Great” Ndereba summarily dismissed Chinxiu Zhou when she made her move for silver; I swear Ndereba made it look so easy to outkick that Chinese woman around that track, as if she were swatting a fly, I wondered why she hadn’t tried to catch Constantina.  Blake Russell finished in 2:33:13, well within the top half of the field. I can’t find video yet, but if you fast-forward through the shots of Paula crying, you’ll still see a few images of the marathon. NBC has posted official results and split times. And I really like Burfoot’s opining about champions, injuries, and class acts (although he doesn’t himself use that term).

Even though it was only 10 PM, I went straight to bed, exhausted from my tempo run and needing a solid eight hours before my 16 this morning. After watching the women’s marathon, I was even more excited than usual for my Sunday long run. It was so relaxing, slowing down the pace, it feels like I’m misbehaving. I ran up Route 940 (yet again; my creativity has failed me here in the Poconos) all the way to the on ramp for I-380, then turned around and came back. When I started, the car thermometer said 55 degrees; by the time I’d returned, it said 76. My 10:25 pace felt just right, and I completed the approximately 16 miles in 2:46:37, imagining Constantina the whole way.

Curiosity is starting to get the better of me: how well will I run at the Queens Half in a month?

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Earlier this week they held the lottery for the Nike New York City Half-Marathon and the ING New York City Marathon. Luckily, I wasn’t relying on an entry through the lottery for the full, but unless I wanted to be a charity runner, I had no other options for the half but to leave my participation up to the Fates.

Last year, they were cruel, shutting me out of both the half and the full. I couldn’t help it, I took it personally. It seemed like everyone I knew had gotten in to the half; I was the only one left out. And when my friend JM from Chicago got in to the full, I just knew the deck was stacked. I moped for a week, trying hard to be excited for her but really in my heart feeling like it should have been me. After all, I thought, as I ticked off my higher qualifications, I a) live in this city; b) have been an avid spectator of the event for years; 3) run over the middle passage bridge practically every day; and f) am a member of the NYRR’s. By comparison, JM’s flimsy cred was built on speed, years of athleticism under her belt, a passion for running, and an out-of-state driver’s license. Seriously, folks: what good is an international race if there aren’t some (namely: me) local New Yawkahs in the mix to keep all the interlopers in check?

Once I was done moping, I responded to this unlucky turn the way the best runners respond to any adversity. I rose from the ashes of my defeat and said, fuck ’em, I’m running my nine qualifying races now so no durn for’ner can take away my rightful spot among the 40,000 competitors in 2008! (Never mind that I could have run for Team for Kids or Fred’s Team with a fundraising entry; I don’t look good in lime green or orange.) So I showed up at the 2007 race and cheered my guts out for the fabulous JM. I also ran my nine; and this November 2nd I’ll be racing over my city’s bridges and through her avenues with a whole bunch of French, Dutch, Italian, and Chicagoan (apparently) marathoners.

But this year, once again, the Fates governing the raffle barrel spitefully turned their backs on me for the Nike NYC Half-Marathon. I was not selected to be one of the thousands of runners who get to tear through the streets of Manhattan, in hot pursuit of the world-class athletes who get to actually toe the line at 6 AM that day. I suppose there are some folks who accept this, easy come easy go, but that’s not me. I am disappointed. There, I’ve said it. I am pouting over a theoretically fair selection process that would have only been truly fair (in my mind) if I’d been selected.

My disappointment would have, um, dissipated quickly if it hadn’t been for the form letter I received from the New York Road Runners via email on Monday informing me of my No-Entry status. I quote:

I hope you will still visit New York, whether in August or at another time. We host races in New York City almost every weekend…. [yadda yadda]… For complete information about all New York Road Runners races and membership, go to the NYRR’s website at…” etc. etc.

An earlier part of the letter went on to describe how if I lived outside the U.S. or New York, I could purchase a tour package for my guaranteed entry. Couldn’t they at least compose and send out a separate email for their members who were shut out of the race, maybe something that included an insider joke, or encouraged us all to volunteer, or to show up and cheer for the elites and the pack? Maybe I expect too much; maybe I should thank them for bringing Deena, Magda and Blake to meet us, and just shut up and sit down. But I can’t help but wishing that us card-carrying local runners, who spend hundreds of dollars each year on NYRR race registration fees, were treated as members of the club, rather than as just another possible tourist who wants to run through the Big Apple.

(Done with my sour grapes now. You know I’ll be there as a spectator, supporting my friends who got in or are running for charity, having a blast, and trying to catch a glimpse of whichever elites they can get to race this thing so damn close to the Olympics.)

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Thank you Mary Wittenberg, thank you New York Road Runners, holy freaking cow I just met Deena Kastor, Magdalena Lewy-Boulet, and Blake Russell! Our 2008 Women’s Olympic Marathon team is making a special appearance in the Mini on Saturday–that’s right, all three women will be running the 10k–and since they’re in town they stopped by the NYRR’s Runner Station, which has been set up every day this week in Central Park in celebration of Runner’s Week.

It’s events like this that compel me to check NYRR.org nearly every day. They are always announcing elites’ entries in their pro races somewhat at the last minute (I am sure that has more to do with the elites than with the NYRR’s). I mean, if it had been even one of the three marathoners, I’d have been psyched, but all three? Ice the cupcake then tell me it has no calories, why don’t you! It doesn’t get much better than that.

I got there 15 minutes early and sat on the bench nervously waiting, afraid mobs would arrive and I’d be stuck in the back. There weren’t mobs, just a nice mingling little crowd (I couldn’t believe there weren’t mobs. That’s just sad.)  The NYRR’s graciously provided postcards for us, which the women signed for us. (I’m getting it matted and framed tomorrow.)  I wanted to shake their hands, so I introduced myself. Then I requested a photo, which the women kindly smiled for.

First of all, these women are teeny tiny. Like little birds. I think Deena’s entire hip measurement is like my thigh measurement.  But, they each had such beautiful, radiant smiles, I was really struck by how gorgeous they all are. Deena clearly knew the drill — she was interviewed, she gave the answers, she smiled, she was aware of the cameras — and had an air of celebrity about her. But Magda and Blake were a little less experienced, they had a freshness about them, maybe less of a screen, or something. (I could be intuiting too much.) 

Let me say now: I definitely was starry-eyed, and got tongue-tied talking to Magda, as memories of her amazing Trials race flashed through my mind (this is that girl!). After I met Deena (who was last in the receiving line), I was a little shaky. You can kind of see a bug-eyed astonishment in my photos with them.

I hung around for the full hour, and kept taking photos to the point where I hoped they wouldn’t consider me a stalker. During this event, which started to feel like a cocktail party with recovery drinks, I met another avid runner, TS, a woman who is as equally entranced by the elites as I am. As we swapped names and sightings of our favorite pros, it was like clicking with a kindred spirit.  Finally, another geeky fan! We stood there chatting as we snapped pictures of the athletes. I then took pictures of TS with each of the marathoners, and that was surreal. As I looked through the viewfinder, I thought, I am taking a photograph of an elite runner who I usually only see in photographs, not in personTypically, the trippy moments in my running come at mile 18, not when I’m standing in Central Park in my work clothes with my Fendi bag slung over my shoulder.

What an amazing evening. Oh and the “finishing kick”–I got a totally cool wristband. I am sorry I missed Grete Waitz last night (the original pigtailed-marathoner), but I was running my first-ever double (more on that later). Surely she would understand.

The Wristband:

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DISCLAIMER: These photos are blurry.  An unfortunate series of events led to these blurry mementos of a historic day of racing. First, the battery died on my digital camers (my fault). Second, I bought a disposable camera to use in its place. And third, the female athletes in the race ran so fast that they ended up as slightly streaky representations of themselves.

Magdalena Lewy Boulet already in the lead as she passes spectators on Boylston Street for the second time.

Deena Kastor, Blake Russell and Mary Akor in the front of the pack, trailing Magda.

Deena around Mile 21, after she broke away from the pack and begins to close the gap between her and Magda.

Magda running her last pass on Comm Ave.  Does she know Deena is catching up?

Deena ran so close to the crowd we all could have touched her without stretching.  She’d cut about ten seconds off Magda’s lead just in the U-turn from Boylston onto Comm Ave.

Joan Benoit Samuelson.

Desiree Davila.

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Tomorrow I will have a moment to take my disposable camera (the one I had to buy when my own camera’s battery died after the first lap of the Trials) in for digital developing.  Tomorrow night I’ll post many more photos (hopefully close-ups); but for now, hopefully these three will suffice.

Passing Exeter Street in the first lap.  Left to right, the soon-to-be named Women’s Olympic Marathon Team: nn the white tee-shirt and sunglasses, #43 Magdalena Lewy Boulet; to her right, #17 Blake Russell in black; and to her right, #1 Deena Kastor in her white cap and blue top.  See dark-haired Desiree Davila in her Hansons-Brooks Distance Project singlet?  She ran in fourth place for much of the latter part of the race until she fell back to finish 13th somewhere within the last four miles. No doubt we’ll see her back here in 2012.

Same lap, different view of the pack. These were the women who inspired me, as I imagined what a complete thrill, and fulfillment of a dream, to have a chance to try out for the Olympics. See that woman in the black singlet, black shorts, and bib number on her butt? Everytime she ran past us, she had a smile on her face, even though she was always one of the last few runners.  When we cheered for her, she’d break out in an even bigger grin.  I think it’s Kim Pawelek (who’s been here before), but I can’t remember exactly which place she finished (third-to-last or second-to-last). See, this is where my romanticizing of the sport comes in, who knows what these women were really thinking or feeling that day. Maybe they were like, Oy, enough already. When is this thing gonna be over? Deena Schmeena!

Hydration Station. Nutrition Junction.  Call it what you will, each lady had their own fuel set up by number on Comm Ave.


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