Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Post Marathon

Well, that was unexpected. Or, I should say, so much happened that was unexpected.

To recap, I did run the Marathon, and I did finish. The triple whammy of a 3-day road trip on the bus with my team, 3 weeks of chemo, and the ridiculously warm hot temperatures guaranteed that I got my money's worth on the course. woo. hoo. Anyone I know who did what I refer to as the Commoners' Start (11:25am) was really hurting out there on Monday and beyond. Today, a day and a half later, I finally feel only tired and only sore, not the hangover-like feeling I carried around for about 36 hours. Ugh. Even starting out 40 seconds per mile slower than pace was not enough - I should have added a minute, but who knew just how hot it would get. (I saw a few bank thermometers along the way pegged at 70F and I am sticking to my story.) The last 10k was hard, the final 5k even harder (run-walk, just keep moving). Not much, though, could ever trump the sheer emotion of the final 1/2 mile to the line with so many people yelling and cheering and saying thank you, all the while I am thinking over and over again, thank you for trusting, thank you for being here, thank you for cheering, and no don't thank me I am thanking you! (It took a long time. I had a lot of time to think.) I am still over the moon for being so lucky able to run (thank you, Dr. M), and I know that the exhilaration and reality of what I accomplished will continue to kick in even more as the weariness fades.

  • most of my team showing up wearing their infamous pink socks to cheer me onto the Finish Line just before the turn onto Boylston Street. They had a sentry outpost who went running, appropriately enough, Paul Revere style to warn the troops that I was in sight. Best sign (that I saw, I missed some) was theirs, "Sit up & Go!" So, I did.
  • the woman who ran behind me with a few hundred meters to go getting the crowd to cheer for me (I could see her shadow). Thank you, wherever you are! xo
  • my sister contacting a writer @realOBF for and getting me written up in a Marathon blog piece which seems to have gone viral in the rowing community. Good press for my employer, haha.
  • the continued and extended outpouring of care and good wishes from friends and family. #WeAreAllStrong #Survivors
My facebook feed is beeping at me regularly, my inbox is not over the limit (close, but that's my own fault most of the time anyway), and twitter and this blog have seen some serious action. It's all good.

Looking ahead, one more weekend of regular season racing on Saturday, home, thank goodness. Another bus ride might put me over the top. Chemo on Monday, but let's not get too ahead of ourselves. One stroke at a time, one day at a time.


  1. Linda!! You are an inspiration to us all. How lucky I am to have met you and to have gotten to know you, you are amazing! Can't wait to see your practice tomorrow, :)

  2. Linda, i came to your blog (and to follow you on twitter) not surprisingly from the rowing world! as a multi-sport athlete turned rower turned runner, i'm reading along nodding - knowing what your day to day must be like. nonetheless, i just wanted to say that you're an inspiration - thank you for sharing your story here. i hope you know you've got folks pulling for you all over the place and one, for sure, here in wisconsin!

  3. Hi Coach Muri, Not sure if you've experience the Wellesley scream tunnel before, but after hearing your story, my team and I were all there to cheer (scream!) for you. Congrats on the finish and on your fantastic season!