A One-Way, Cobblestone Road to Boston @mjrunsboston - Tumblr Blog

Gaaahhhhhhh it's real! #bostonmarathon #titleixgirls #gameon

Where in the World is Mallory?

Want to find me on Marathon Monday?

Here’s what you need to know!

I’m bib #29013 (the bib will be yellow.) I’m in the 4th wave, 6th corral. So my start time is approximately 11:15am. If you’d like to track me with your phone, check out this link: http://www.baa.org/races/boston-marathon/participant-information/att-athlete-alerts.aspx (You’ll need my bib number, 29013)

My goal is to run some solid 10min miles. I might get a little excited at the start, but I don’t anticipate cruising any faster than 9:30/mile. If anything, my emotional sobs might slow me down. If the day is perfect (aka, tail wind, 55 degrees, partly cloudy, no porta-potty stops, my GU opens the first time I try, my sneakers stay tied, I don’t choke on water, I stop crying, I don’t get lost (LOL only I would get lost on the Boston Marathon course...), etc. etc.) then I hope to finish in 4 hours and 30 minutes or so. BUT I also want to stop and blubber with all my friends and family along the way... so let’s aim for five hours and call it a day. That’s the goal.

If you plan to watch the marathon, here’s a link for some spectator info: http://www.baa.org/races/boston-marathon/event-information/spectator-information.aspx

PLEASE let me know where you’ll be on the course... what mile and which side of the street, and I will stop and say hi. If you’re at mile 6, for example, you can expect me about an hour (maybe a little sooner or later...) after I start, so, 12:15. You guys are smart; you will figure it out. If you are wondering, “Mallory, how can I make this marathon even better for you? I’ll be there. Just tell me what to do.” Well, first, thank you for your generosity. If you want to contribute, you can have 1) a positive attitude and a smile 2) tissues 3) water 4) pretzels, maybe. But really, just seeing people I know will be an absolute joy.

Here is what I will look like... (only less flat, not sideways (I hope!), and much faster!) I may or may not wear the hat, depending on the weather. I’ll be wearing a fuel belt, too... but I think you’ll recognize me, regardless. My pants will likely be black (I know, I know, I should know by now... but hey, what’s life without a little spontaneity?). And I have a picture of the back of my tank... but if you’re looking at that, it’s too late. Sorry. I plan on writing “MAL” on both my arms in the selfish effort to hear my name along the course from total strangers... and this will inevitably rekindle the fight that my mother and I have been having for my entire life about how drawing with any kind of ink on your skin immediately gives you cancer and poisons your blood. Oops?

Thank you all for your support and encouragement. It’s going to be a fantastic day. It always is.

And, not to tell you what to do or anything, but if you’re going to be in Boston on Monday... just take it all in. Look at everyone go. You can’t fake this kind of inspiration; you can’t conjure it. It’s completely natural.. And while you’re watching all of these people who worked so hard for this one day, think about how lucky you are to have this body that moves and can do amazing things. It’s pretty special. So I hope that, regardless of whether or not you ever plan to run a marathon (this was never a life goal for me, by the way...), Marathon Monday inspires you to be brave. You might surprise yourself.

Taper. It’s Real.

Ohhhhh boy.

Taper, it’s real.

That’s all I’m going to say... because in the next five minutes I’ll likely be 1) asleep on my keyboard 2) sobbing 3) baking/eating a tray of brownies 4) cleaning things that are already clean OR 5) a hybrid where I do 2-4 while sleep-walking because I am a multi-tasker.

I was going to include a little recap of my 20-miler (remember when I ran 20 miles a mere ten days ago? YEAH, me neither! But I have a photo of the deli/market that fell from heaven at mile 16 [okay, their bathroom fell from heaven... the rest, I’m sure is fine; but I can’t speak to its holiness] as proof that it happened.)... but I’m too tired/lazy/lethargic/confused/busy-but-not-busy to upload the photos or go through the emotional journey. So I’ll leave you with a little apology...

Dear friends and family,

I am sorry for the things I may say or do during taper. I know that it sounds about as real as a horoscope (which, incidentally, I kind of think are strangely a thing...), but I promise you that this is real. Taper is real. I’ve seen it with my own eyes and it looks like a bag from Rite Aid filled with Nutella, brownie mix, and Reese’s eggs. It looks like a spotless apartment. It looks like a warped mirror. It looks like two extra cups of coffee. It comes in many forms - it’s tricky (like Drew Brees), but I will beat it. And when I do, I’ll buy you, my friends and family, a drink because you stood by me.

And to taper, if you’re reading this. Respect, dude. You’re good at what you do. But, perhaps, you could consider taking your business elsewhere come April 17th because I have some WORK to do that day.

PS. $8,000 fundraising goal MET. Thank you, again, to everyone who has supported me throughout this process. Y’all are aces.

20 miles ✅ pancakes ✅ nap next to a stack of Girl Scout cookies? Jameson knows what he is doing... *** stay tuned for a blog post - the ugly truths about my beautiful 20-miler *** #bostonmarathon2017 #titleixgirls #20miles #naptime

#bostonmarathon2017 #titleixgirls #naptime #20miles

Taking the show on the road - Boston Marathon training: Newport Beach edition... a beautiful 8.25 mile run around Balboa Island in 62-degree weather? I'll take it. Up next: Boston Marathon training: fish taco edition. 🐠🐟🌮🏝🌊 #bostonmarathon2017 #springbreak #onmyrun #newportbeach #nofilter (at Balboa Island)

#newportbeach #onmyrun #bostonmarathon2017 #nofilter #springbreak

Dear Bae(con, egg, & cheese), I ran 18 miles just to get to you - along a river, down busy streets, through green fields, uphill, downhill, with the wind at my heels and with it blowing straight into my face. And I would do it again. (Preferably not in the next week, though.) May your powers of attraction continue to lead me toward the marathon finish line. #bostonmarathon2017 #titleixgirls #baconeggandcheese #loveknowsnobounds

#baconeggandcheese #bostonmarathon2017 #loveknowsnobounds #titleixgirls

Chewed up 17 miles this morning... and then chewed up a commemorative pancake. #bostonmarathon2017 #titleixgirls #postrunpancakes

#bostonmarathon2017 #titleixgirls #postrunpancakes

Rest Days: a double-edged sword

Rest is the ultimate motivator. I see it in my spin classes. The promise of a recovery sends an extra surge of energy through their bodies, their eyes get a little hungrier, their pedals spin a little faster. I’m no exception. Mid-week, I’m living for that rest day. But I’ve found that marathon rest days aren’t as simple as one might think.

The Dream: My body soaks up rest like a sponge. I feel rejuvenated and fierce.

The Reality: I feel like a bloated sponge with legs. Whose legs are these? They don’t look marathon ready...

The Dream: I am so productive in all the non-marathon aspects of my life... because those totally exist.

The Reality: I feel so lazy and antsy that I am going to stare at my marathon-training spreadsheet with the hope that it will make me feel less like a bum.

The Dream: My appetite is so normal and I definitely don’t want to eat the world.

The Reality: LOL. Oh yeah, and I’ll take extra carbs and coffee with that.

The Dream: Nap.

The Reality: Life.

The Dream: I am dressed in normal-people clothes and have dry hair and threw on some eye-liner and boy, do I look fantastic and fresh.

The Reality: No, really, whose legs are these? Because these pants feel weird. Forget it.

The Dream: My body is so happy with me.

The Reality. Are you there, body? It’s me, Mallory.

The Dream: I’m going to sleep so well tonight...

The Reality: What made you think that less movement would incite better rest? Do better.

The Dream: I’ll be good as new.

The Reality: This naïveté is getting old.

The Dream: Tomorrow, we’ll run!

The Reality: Wait, I thought these were rest day dreams...

The Dream: My legs are going to carry me miles and miles and miles

The Reality: That does sound kind of.... wait... no...

The Dream: Come on, I know you want to...

The Reality: We’re running... we’re running... Monday... Tuesday... Wednesday...

The Dream: Hot damn, rest day is going to feel so good...

Moral of the story: being patient with ourselves during the work feels far more natural than being patient with ourselves during the rest. So what do we do? We practice. (And hopefully we get good at it before taper so that we don’t lose all of our friends, family, and loved ones in the pursuit of this marathon because that would be unfortunate [though I’m sure it wouldn’t be the first time the taper-tantrums got the better of a relationship or two... but we’ll aim high.])

sunshine and rainbows

Marathon training is not all sunshine and rainbows.

I am hitting the point in my training, when, if this had been a half-marathon, I would be starting to taper. Instead, it’s a full marathon... so my mileage will continue to increase. Last weekend, I ran more miles in a single go than I ever have before... 14. My body is tired. My mind is tired. There are times when my spirit is somewhere in the “meh” realm.

Marathon training is not all sunshine and rainbows.

But.

Sometimes it is.

Actual pictures of the sky during one of my runs. Sunshine? Yes. Rainbows? Yes.

Okay, one more sky picture.

Title IX Girls Running Club sent me all kinds of inspirational swag. Also, a fleece with my name on it, which is the dream. And lots of other goodies. Basically, it was the equivalent of the cool kids inviting you to eat lunch with them. I wore it all at once and will hopefully be invited back in spite of my overwhelming enthusiasm.

That’s the lot of us before our freezing (but actually... frigid.) long run last weekend on the course. Heartbreak Hill ain’t got nothin’ on us. Also, big sunshine and rainbows moment... seeing fellow Title IX runner, Katie, in her real live human form (as opposed to her equally hilarious Facebook form). The girl’s a champ.

The breakfast of CHAMPIONS that the founder of Title IX Girls Running Club (and all-around badass) and I consumed after our long runs last weekend. Un.Real.

So yes, marathon training is not all sunshine and rainbows. But a lot of it is. And those are the things that I’ll be carrying with me as I run my way toward that starting line. Hey, I’m over half-way there. No turning back now.

Want to help me get there? Consider donating to the cause that has me appreciating that winter sunrise.

That moment when you finish an 11-mile run (during which the last four miles were fueled solely by the thought of a bacon, egg, and cheese on an everything bagel)... and your bagel place has been mysteriously evicted. #fridaythe13th #marathontraining #SOS

#marathontraining #sos #fridaythe13th

Eating Wasabi and Asking Why

Hello there, friends. Been a while.

Since my last post, I’ve run over 60 miles, opened running-centric Christmas presents, had a touch too much whiskey on New Years Eve, and done no yoga (I really have to get on that.). I apologize for my absence; but I’m not positive the Tumblr-verse has missed me all that much. So I’m not THAT sorry.

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about why I’m running the Boston Marathon. On Christmas Eve, I went out for an 8-mile run in the freezing rain, wearing my brother’s golf windbreaker (which I thought was waterproof... it was not.); and I thought to myself, “Is this the 7th grade wasabi challenge?”

Allow me to explain.

In 7th grade, a kid (who shall remain nameless, except I will call him Michael. Names may or may not have been changed. See? If names have been changed, then you can rule out everyone named Michael. If names haven’t been changed... it’s a Michael. If names may or may not have been changed... everyone is still a suspect.), Michael, said he would eat a ball of wasabi. I believe he was offered $10 for the feat - but for a 7th grader, it was all about the middle-school glory.

Was I running eight miles in the freezing rain on Christmas Eve for attention? Why was I running?

I started to think (eight miles gives you plenty of time to think) about how exercise is often portrayed as selfish. Even though I am running the marathon for a charity (and an amazing one at that... check out Title IX Girls Running Club, please.), there is an inherent greediness to taking so much time for myself, to complete this challenge and be able to say, “I ran the Boston Marathon.” Somewhere along the way, we’ve decided that we need to #treatyoself to make up for the other times when we don’t “treat” our bodies and our minds. We beat ourselves up for feeling at peace; we justify actions that make us feel empowered or happy or calm with hashtags; we provide evidence for times when we’ve restricted our diets or felt insecure to portray ourselves as human (as though we could be anything else).

Michael ate the ball of wasabi. His eyes watered. He ran out of the room and threw up. Everyone got into trouble... because... duh. But no guts no glory?

I don’t know exactly why I feel the need to run 26.2 miles. Maybe it is for the glory, the attention. Would I still run it if it were any old Tuesday in any old town? Maybe not. But is that such a bad thing? There is something magical about taking part in communal pride because we spend so much of our time not celebrating what our bodies and minds can do but rather harping on their shortcomings and weaknesses. And regardless of the recognition I may or may not gain along the way... the work is hard, and I am doing it.

Just a little (spicy) food for thought.

If you would like to be like the group of 7th graders in the cafeteria and put a little wager on my marathon (and by that I mean... donate to my marathon cause - you will not get your money back, but you will have given it to a special charity)... click here.

A little snow can't stop Nikki Michelle, Audrey, Nell, and Abigail Adams. Some birthday-weekend stadium action with the fairy godmothers this morning. So much love for these amazing women. #snowyworkout #section37 #hereforthebrunch (at Harvard Stadium)

#hereforthebrunch #section37 #snowyworkout

Seven Lessons in Seven Days

And just like that, marathon training week #1 has come and gone... but not without its share of lessons...

Monday, lesson #1: Patience. These first few weeks of training are going to involve days in which I am running fewer miles than I have been used to running. I need to stay focused on making it to the finish line healthy and happy.

Tuesday, lesson #2: Preserve the joy. The bad-ass feeling that I got after crushing some pistols and single-leg lunges after my run is going to be imperative for morale. So I will keep doing the kinds of exercises that make me feel strong and confident - even if it means tired legs on Wednesday.

Wednesday, lesson #3: Hang tough. Before teaching my weekly spin class, I felt queasy and weak... but something about the eager faces looking back at me gave me kick I needed to pedal on through my malaise.

Thursday, lesson #4: Flexibility. Both of my muscles and my routine. Adjusting from running 3-4 days per week (plus spin and strength training) to 4-5 days of running per week (plus the other stuff) is going to take some maneuvering. Keep stretching, keep going with the flow.

Friday, lesson #5: Plan ahead. I hopped out of bed on Thursday night to make myself some overnight oats because I always rush to get to class on Friday morning - and hot oats just add to the “hot mess” factor that I’ve already got going on. My Friday morning self was eternally grateful. This lesson will be key as snow (and festivities...) starts to become a factor...

Saturday, lesson #6: You will surprise yourself. A freezing 15K race left me feeling invigorated. Go figure. Looking forward to the moments in which I can surpass my own expectations.

Sunday, lesson #7: Rest means rest. And oh boy did I need it. I can’t remember the last time I got 10.5 hours of sleep. But this morning I woke up with that sweet realization that I was waking up to coffee in bed and not sneakers in the cold.

One week down, 19 to go.

Oh, and PS. I got to wear my first heat sheet after my race on Saturday. Turns out those silver blankets don’t mean that you’re dying (as I suspected in my first blog post)... they just mean you’re cold. Follow-up question, though... do people keep these? Do they just sit there looking like they really want to be wrapped around a giant baked potato?.... asking for a friend.

A 5:30am wake-up, a cab ride, a pre-race huddle around a heater, a 15K race, (my first) heat sheet, a train ride, a phone call, and a shower later... my post-race pancakes and I find one another. #tedcorbitt15k #raceday #postracepancakes #titleixgirls

#raceday #postracepancakes #tedcorbitt15k #titleixgirls

NYC may have been blue this morning, but I was anything but... because day 1 of marathon training is officially in the books! #nofilter #bostonmarathon #titleixgirls #gameon

#gameon #titleixgirls #nofilter #bostonmarathon

Winter, with spurs on

Winter arrived this morning. It came in like one of those villains in an old western that busts through the swinging doors of the saloon, and everyone turns their heads, and candles go out, and dogs’ tails go between their legs (because dogs were allowed in saloons... stay focused). This is all to say, it was dramatic and, for me, abrupt. (I’d like to mention at this time that I’ve never actually seen a wester. Perhaps that’s obvious. But I have seen cartoons. This is pretty much how it goes down in those.) Anyway, I woke up and there was wind. It looked cold. I had less time than usual for my workout. And so, I decided to stay inside and do yoga instead of run.

There’s a little part of me (Four years ago it might have been a big part of me.) that shook its head (Yes, apparently, parts of me have heads of their own...) at my decision. How will you train all winter if you can’t handle it today? You’re setting a bad precedent. Your off-day was yesterday. Blah blah blah blah blah. Here is how: I just will. So there.

My mom told me many years ago, “Treat yourself like you’d treat a friend.” If my friend woke me up this morning and whispered, “Psst. Mal. It looks really cold and windy outside. I haven’t been sleeping well. I’m just not in the mood to go run. But what if this means I can’t run the marathon?” I would not say, “You’re right. Go run. Or, at the very least, beat yourself up over it.” That is not how I treat my friends.

At some point, our society decided it was “cool” to bully yourself. Berating your body and your choices as though criticizing is some form of egoless-ness and not a skewed form of the opposite.

I am here to tell you that “cool” is a lot more casual than we give it credit for. It’s messy and sassy and silly and it laughs until Lactaid (because “cool” is lactose intolerant, trust me) comes out of its nose. And when “cool” rests, it’s chill. This is the cool that I know and love. And it’s the cool that I hope the girls at Title IX Girls Running Club get to grow up with. (They will, if I have anything to say about it.)

So now it’s winter. Training is kicking into gear. But let me tell you... I’m feeling like I am the villain in one of those old westerns—ready to make it known that I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere, winter, because this town ain’t big enough for the both of us. And things are about to get a whole lot cooler.

Guess who learned that Central Park has hills 🙋🏼 Saturday morning 10-miler complete. On to the bacon, egg, and cheese portion of the program. #bostonmarathon2017 #titleixgirlsrunningclub #centralpark #onmyrun

#centralpark #titleixgirlsrunningclub #bostonmarathon2017 #onmyrun

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