marathon running

Race Circuit Retirement

/ rachelgoes262 / Leave a comment

Now that I have officially earned and achieved 26 medals, I announce my retirement from the competitive marathon circuit. This does NOT mean I will stop running. I will continue to run. I will just no longer race on the competitive circuit to earn medals. 

Plus, I will no longer run marathons. I will keep to distances of 5k or 10k. 

I have been very fortunate to have had a successful 16-year running career. I have qualified for Olympic Trials (but not made the Olympics, obviously). I have represented Team USA in Canada. I have earned a prestigious B.A.A. (Boston Athletic Association) Boston Marathon medal. I have seen many cities across the North American continent by running 26.2 miles through their streets to the cheers of screaming crowds. 

I have run races on my bucket list. I have achieved many goals. While some dreams were realized, others were crushed. It has not been all glory. The marathon teaches you, and sometimes those lessons are through failure and heartbreak.

There have been many race dedications. I have officially had three start line songs. Much as baseball players have walk-up songs when they come up to bat, so do marathon runners have start line songs. For the first half of my running career, it was “Lose Yourself” by Eminem (before it became popular.) For one heartbreaking race, it was “Berzerk” by Eminem. For the second half of my running career, it was “Remember the Name” by Fort Minor. 

After all, not everyone can start to the Rocky theme song. Although, if you run Philly like I have, you will hear it. Guaranteed. You see, Philly is like my first love. Philly was my first half marathon. Then Philly was my first full marathon. You never forget your first. In fact, 8 of my 26 medals come from Philly.

Speaking of Philly, my running tattoo on my right arm is the Philly logo. It has 8 stars. Each star represents one of my Philly medals. I have done the Rocky Run and stood at the top of the art museum steps literally in Sly’s steps, as there are bronze casings in the cement where he stood.

I have raced in wind, rain, snow, and ice. For one race, it was 23F at the start line. It was so cold; the air horn would not work to start the race. They had to get a police officer to discharge his weapon, so we had a shotgun start. Water and Gatorade would immediately freeze if they hit the ground at aide stations. 

I have been quite fortunate through my running career in that I never had a DNF (did not finish). I came very, very close one challenging race, but I DID finish. I did have a few DNS (did not start) due to either finances in being unable to get to the race, injuries, or illnesses. Yet, even with the DNS’s, I managed to bounce back the following season or race. 

You meet the most amazing, incredible people at races. Someone once said, if you want to see the best of humanity, watch a marathon. It is true. From the cheer zones, to the hilarious on course signs, every single person at a marathon is kind. You see people do things you never thought possible, and I’m not just talking about the whole running 26.2 miles part.

While I may have four degrees, I will say that my running career and my 26 medals are what make me the proudest. If anyone asks me what the best thing is I’ve ever done with my life? My first answer will be the cats. My second answer will be my medals. In that exact order.

I retire having achieved the category of Master’s runner. Since I also have a Master’s degree, I guess that makes me a Jill of all trades, master of two? I am retiring at the top of my game, on my own terms. I am not retiring when my health or disability force me. I am fortunate to have been able to continue running through the ongoing pandemic. I am blessed to have reached my goal in achieving 26 medals even with covid all around me. 

Retirement from the professional race circuit, do not mean stop running. I will keep running. But you see, being on the race circuit? I had sponsorships. I had companies who were paying for my race fees and hotel stays so I could race. I was a ranked runner. That is the life I am leaving behind. I am no longer sponsored. I will no longer race or be ranked. I am just going to run For the Love of Running. Honestly, that’s what I’ve been doing for the past 16 years, but now I won’t be chasing down the medals.

Running is one of the best ways to explore someplace new. It’s a great way to meet new people. The running community is pretty kind. I am a proud supporter of the Back on My Feet program, that helps homeless people find jobs and housing by engaging them in running programs. 

So, while I am retiring from the race circuit with 26 medals, the running continues. I will continue to lace up and stop out for 3 miles or 6 miles. However, I will no longer toe the start line for races. 

This journey I have been on has been the most incredible of my life. I continue for the love of running. As I have always said, run, walk, crawl or dragged, I will cross the finish line. Rejoice! I have conquered! 

10 Years of #BostonStrong

/ rachelgoes262 / Leave a comment

Ten years ago today, the unthinkable happened when domestic American terrorists attacked the world’s most beloved marathon. The attack was brutal, cruel and unprovoked. Many people were murdered and many more were injured in the devastating event.

However, despite the atrocity, in the days that followed, the city and the world rallied around the race. After all, you just don’t mess with people who run 26.2 miles for fun. The Boston Police Department was the 2013 World Hide and Seek Champions as they searched tirelessly for the perpetrators to bring them to justice. 

Medical personnel responded, every day people lined up to give blood to the wounded. Everyone came together to support the Boston Marathon, whose finish line symbolizes hope, love and dreams to both runners and non-runners alike across the globe. 

I ran Boston in 2010, 2012, and 2014. The only reason why I wasn’t there in 2013 was because a family member had a major surgery two weeks before the race and I stayed home to assist in their recovery. The first bomb at the finish line went off within 30 seconds of my marathon finishing time. I had friends who were in the race that year, and was watching their progress on the course through GPS tracking. When the bombs went off, all the dots tracking my friends disappeared and the screen went blank. 

By the time I heard from all of my friends who were at the race that day, it was 3 am the next day. Thankfully, everyone I knew was safe. Many people were not. 

Every time I “toe the line” and stand at the start line of a race, I do it with the knowledge that I may die on course. Typically, this would be a medical death. We have all heard the tale of the first marathon and how the runner died from running so far. I never thought that I might die from a terrorist attack. 

Yet even though death is a possibility, the risk is well worth it to run a marathon. You see, the secret of the finish line is that the second your foot hits that finish line, you see the face of God. Whether you come in first, last, or someplace in the middle, the finish line is the moment in life when you truly touch the Devine. It’s that moment when you have achieved a feat that less than 5% of the human population will ever attempt. It’s the moment when your heart knows you have achieved the seemingly impossible and all your dreams come true. 

I ran a race about three weeks after the bombing. I will admit, I was terrified. What if there were copycats? What if my race was bombed too? I still lined up. I wasn’t about to let a domestic terrorist scare me off from the one thing I love to do most in life. I will admit, as soon as I saw the bomb-sniffing police dogs, I instantly relaxed. I figured if the dogs were on duty, I was safe. The dogs would protect me. They did. They gave me the courage to take that first step off the start line that day. 

Ten years later, I am still running #BostonStrong. I do not remember that day as a day that was torn apart; I remember that day as the day that brought the world together in solidarity. That is the essence of the running community. However, in the aftermath of that tragic day, even the non-running community came to experience aspects of the sport that we love the most: the love, hope and inclusivity that brings us all together on our way to our common goal of realizing our dreams. 

This year is my retirement year from competitive racing. Soon I hope to achieve medal 26. I will not stop running, but I will stop chasing down medals. You see, running is a life long love. As we marathoners like to say: run, walk, crawl, or dragged, I will cross the finish line. I will keep running. However, once I achieve medal 26, I will stop chasing the bling. After all, I keep going for the love of running. Once I have 26 medals on the rack, I will have enough bling.

Today, April 15, is One Boston Day. Not only is it the anniversary of the marathon bombing, but it is the day that everyone comes together in community and service to try to make this world a better place. We honor those killed in the tragedy by bringing light out of the darkness.

We will forever be #BostonStrong. 

Through a Bus Window

/ rachelgoes262 / Leave a comment

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Note: The following is the true account of how I experienced graduate school starting back in 2011. I worked three jobs and battled homelessness. Many people will ask, “well why didn’t you move?” 

It’s not that simple. First, rents in Boston at the time were 5x what I was paying in Upstate New York. In Upstate New York, I lived in a 2-bedroom apartment with two cats. For 5x what I was paying in rural New York, in Boston I would have had: a single one-room the size of a closet in a house shared with 9 other people. I would not have been able to take my cats. I will not live without my cats. Not to mention, in order to afford the 5x rent, I would have had to take on a job that was paying me $2 less per hour. Even if you are not good at math, you should be able to figure out that living in Boston was not affordable. It is one of the top 3 most expensive cities to live in the United States. 

So, this is the story of my graduate school commute and what I did to receive an education.

Other people will ask, “well why go to school in Boston? Why not go to school in New York?” I had that idea too. The problem is that no schools in New York State accepted me for admission to graduate school. All of the schools that accepted me were in Boston.

It was my dream at the time to return to Boston. I left in 1997 and regretted that decision. Leaving Boston in the 90s was my only regret. I was trying to rectify it. So here is what one of my weeks looked like and how I came to live my life through a bus window.

Monday

It’s 8 pm on Monday night and I am driving home from work in the pouring rain. It will take roughly an hour to get home. I am exhausted, as I have been going all day. I will be so happy when I get home just before 9 pm to see the cats. They need to be fed and Kip needs his medication.

It’s 9 pm. The cats are fed and I have set up the automatic pet feeder to provide them with their next 2 meals. I take as much time as I can to play with them, love them, cuddle them. At 10 pm, it’s time to pick up my back pack and lunch box and head out the door.

At 10 pm, I start the hour long drive to the city of Binghamton, NY. In Binghamton, I arrive at a friend’s house. I park the car without going inside. The friend is someone who I went to undergrad school with at Binghamton University while finishing my bachelors degree. She has given me permission to park my car in her driveway so that I can avoid parking lot fees in Binghamton.

At 11 pm, I leave the car in my friend’s driveway. I put on my backpack, pick up my lunch box, and start walking 3 miles to the bus station. It’s late at night and I am walking through a not very nice part of the city. I am alert. I have to keep moving no matter what the weather is doing. I have to arrive at the bus station before midnight or I will miss my chariot.

At midnight Monday into Tuesday morning, I board a Greyhound bus. I had purchased my ticket more than 2 weeks in advance to get a discounted rate. It was only about $10. My graduate school financial aid was paying for my transportation. 

I decided to ride the bus instead of drive for two reasons. First, I did not want to kill my car with mileage. I was living paycheck to paycheck and did not have money to afford a new car. Second, I was exhausted. I had officially been awake for going on 24 hours. I needed a nap. The one hour drive to Binghamton was hard enough. I did not have it in me to safely drive any further.

At midnight, I board the very crowded Greyhound bus. I hoped for a window seat to rest my head. I tried to sleep as best I could sitting straight up on a crowded bus. I was so exhausted, I was out like a light. My lunch box was under my seat. My backpack was nesteled between my legs to deter theft. My backpack held my laptop and school materials.

Tuesday

It’s 5 am and the sun is rising. I’m awake. I was fortunate enough to get a window seat, so looking out I see the skyline of New York City. For the “city that never sleeps,” it sure looks groggy. Anyone who is out and about is up to no good. I’m being generous with my assessment.

Between 5 am and 6 am, the Greyhound rolls into Times Square. We arrive at the bus station. I have to fight through the crowds to try to go from one bus terminal to another. I have to be sure that no one is pick pocketing me or touching me inappropriately. 

I have my knife in my pocket. I had to use it once to stab a would-be rapist so that I could get away. It was the only time in my life I had ever caused bodily harm to another person, but I did not want to be raped. The unknown assailant had come up and pinned me against a wall in Times Square between terminals. No one in NYC cares what happens around them, so screams are meaningless. I used my knife and ran.

I digress. It is between 5 am and 6 am. I navigate NYC on foot to go between terminals. 

At 6 am, I am on another bus. At least, I hope I’m on another bus at 6 am. It is often late, and I have to take the “next” bus at 7 am. I am going on 5 hours of fitful sleep on a very full bus and almost asleep on my feet.

By 7 am, I am on a bus, even if it wasn’t the one I was supposed to be on. However, it’s going to the right place, so all is well. 

I attempt to sleep on this bus as well. It is full, and the sun is out full force. I am sitting up. I’m so exhausted, I sleep any way. I get about an hour of sleep.

Many people think that I should have been doing my school work on this bus. The problem is that any time I try to read in a moving vehicle, I get motion sickness and vomit. It only happens when I try to read in a vehicle. If I am simply riding, or engaging in almost any other activity that is not reading, I do not get motion sickness. I sleep on the bus as much as I can.

Sometime between 8:30 – 9 am, the bus arrives at South Station in Boston. The city is bustling with the morning commute. I leave the bus terminal and go on foot to the T station. This is the subway system in Boston. I plan to grab a train to campus so I have some time to study before my first class of the day.

I pull my Charlie Card out. The Charlie Card is what holds the fares for the T. I scan my Charlie Card and it says “denied.” I have 80 cents on my Charlie Card. It costs $1.10 to ride the T to campus. I am 30 cents short. I can’t put more money on my Charlie Card. My financial aid for graduate school has not arrived yet. My checking account only has 5 cents left in it. I have no cash.

It’s pouring rain and I walk outside to start the 3 mile walk to campus. I have an umbrella, but it does no good. This was the year it rained so hard in Boston that the baseball field at Fenway Park was flooded under 4 inches of water. I arrive to campus with my feet completely soaked, as well as both legs. The water traveled up my jeans and I was completely wet as if I had no umbrella at all. 

I arrive on campus just in time for my first class. I don’t have time to study. 

I sit in the very back of class hoping no one will notice my rain-soaked state. No one realizes what I just went through to get there. I remove my socks and shoes hoping no one will notice. I try putting them by the heater to dry them out. 

I go through my classes for the day. I eat the food in my lunchbox. My lunchbox has now provided me with breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I don’t have money for food. I didn’t even have money for the train. 

I have a reusable coffee mug in my bag, a spoon, and a packet of oatmeal. I go into a convenience store and use the hot water at the coffee station to make my oatmeal. I don’t buy anything. I don’t have any money. I leave as quickly as I can after having taken some hot water in my coffee mug for the oatmeal.

I am in classes all day long. All of my classes are scheduled into Tuesdays and Thursdays. I am a full time graduate student. I am taking 4 classes.

At 8 pm on Tuesday, my classes are done for the day. I head over to the library to work on my reading and class work.

I set an alarm for when I need to leave the library to head back to South Station. I’m lucky I do. I fall asleep in the library. The alarm awakens me. The librarian has a concerned look on her face over the obviously homeless person who looks rumpled after not having slept in a bed or had a real shower in over 24 hours. 

I quickly put all my school materials back in my bag and head towards the door. I have to make it to South Station before 10 pm. 

At 10 pm, South Station is locked for the night. You cannot enter South Station after 10 pm until it is unlocked in the morning. My bus did not leave until 1 am. However, the only way to catch that 1 am bus was to be inside South Station before 10 pm when it was locked.

I walk through the City of Boston from campus to South Station. It is late, but I feel safe. Walking alone at night in Boston is much safer than both NYC and Binghamton, NY. I still have my knife in my pocket. But I know I won’t have to use it here.

I arrive in South Station before 10 pm. Some nights I cut it close. I get in before they lock the doors and head to my terminal. I get in line. I sit in line for my bus for 3 hours. Sometimes I work on school, sometimes I sleep. I try not to sleep. There are pick pockets every where.

Wednesday

At 1 am Wednesday, I board a bus in South Station in Boston. The bus is heading for NYC. I blissfully fall sleep sitting up on a completely full bus.

I transfer busses in NYC to head back to Upstate New York. I am doing the entire trip in reverse. I arrive in Binghamton. I walk 3 miles to my car. I drive an hour home.

I walk in my house so happy to see the cats. I feed them, love them, play with them. I take a shower and repack bag. I have to go to work. But I will see my cats tonight.

I work from noon on Wednesday until 8pm on Wednesday.

At 8 pm on Wednesday, I go through the exact same process I went through on Monday night. I drive an hour home from work. I spend time with the cats. T repack my bag. I drive an hour to Binghamton. I park the car. I walk 3 miles to the bus station. 

At midnight on Wednesday, I am back on a bus again after having worked a full day. I am going back to Boston for my Thursday classes.

Thursday

It’s Thursday. Thursday looks just like my Tuesday. I arrive in Boston. I go to class. I travel back to work through the night.

It is now Thursday night and I have not slept in a bed all week. Every single night I have slept on a bus – Monday night, Tuesday night, Wednesday night, Thursday night.

I arrive back home late Friday morning.

Friday 

I am so happy to see the cats. I feed them, spend time with them, love them. I take a shower to wash off the grime and dirt of the city. It is my first shower in two days.

I have to go to work. I repack my bag and set up the automatic pet feeder for the cats yet again.

It’s Friday, and I work at one job from noon to 8 pm.

At 8 pm on Friday, I leave work. I can’t go home this time. I have to go to my next job.

My next job is an overnight. It starts at 10 pm. I have roughly 2 hours between jobs. I sit in a cafe downtown and work on my school work.

I start my second job doing an overnight shift at 10 pm. The good news is that if it is not busy, I am allowed to sleep. It is an on-call overnight job. As long as I wake up when the bells go off, I can sleep when things are quiet.

I work from 10 pm Friday night until 8 am Saturday morning.

Saturday

It is 8 am Saturday morning. I just finished my shift at my overnight job. I may have gotten one hour of sleep. I may have gotten 6 hours of sleep. It all depends on how busy the work was that night.

The next shift comes in at 8 am. I take the opportunity to take a shower at work. I can’t go home yet. I have to work to make money to pay my bills. I have another job to go to.

I work at my third job on Saturday from 9 am to 4 pm. When 4 pm on Saturday comes, I am exhausted, but also excited.

Once I get home on Saturday night, I will be able to be home for 24 hours. It is also the ONLY night of the entire week that I get to sleep in a bed. I get to be with the cats and I get to sleep in my own bed.

Saturday night I get home and I am so happy to see the cats. I can’t just relax, though. I’m in graduate school. I have a lot of school work to do. My Saturday nights were always spent writing 20 page papers for class. This was the time when I got all my school work done for the week.

On Saturday night, I get to sleep in my own bed.

Sunday

On Sunday morning, I wake up in my own bed with the cats. This is bliss. I still can’t relax. I have to keep going. 

It’s Sunday morning and I have to do my long run. I am training for another marathon. I use the three mile “walks” during the week commuting as training runs. Sundays are for long, slow distance. Each week miy mileage increases until I top out at 22 miles a few weeks before my marathon. 

I get up Sunday morning. It’s time to run 18 miles. I have a race for which I am training.

I get home from my run and have lunch. I do everything I am supposed to do to recover from my long run including icing my legs. The cats are so happy to see me and have me home.

Sunday afternoon, I spend the entire afternoon cooking and preparing food. I have to prep all of my meals for the week so that I have food to throw in the lunchbox when I come home to repack my bags. 

At 8:30 pm on Sunday night, I leave the house. I have to go to work at my over night job.

At 10 pm on Sunday night, I start my overnight shift. This is the job where I can try to sleep if it’s not busy. I work until 8 am on Monday.

Monday

I finish my overnight shift at 8 am on Monday. I shower at work. I have to go to my next job. 

Today is Monday. I have another job I have to work from 9 am to 4 pm.

I work.

It’s Monday. My third job ends at 4 pm. I still can’t go home. I have to work my second job.

I go to my second job Monday night from 5 pm to 8 pm.

Once I get off work at 8 pm, I get to go home.

But now, I have to start the communte to Boston for school.

Conclusion

This is where we started when I began writing this piece. We started with 8 pm on Monday night. 

I’ve seen the world through a bus windshield. This is the sacrifice I made to receive an education. I did not get accepted at any schools in New York. I could not afford to move to Boston. Yet, I wanted to learn. It was important to me to get an education and get a degree.

When I bought my house a few years ago, I decided to be a “responsible adult” and do some funeral planning. One of the things I planned is that I want a celebration of life party with a playlist of songs that I have curated. One of the songs on my list of 26.2 is “Old Blue Chair” by Kenny Chesney. I have literally lived every word of that song. I have seen the world through a bus windshield.

This year marks 10 years since I started the Boston commute to pursue my graduate degree. To this day, I’m not sure how I ever survived the experience. However, I must say I do not regret it for one moment. I am very proud to have a graduate degree.