Racing to BQ (Boston qualifier) was a goal two years ago. Looking back on the race that fractured my character is difficult. I can honestly see myself, back then, as if on a trail, coming upon a junction - so many ways to go, and yet the path I chose looked the least suspect, but proved to be the most challenging.
After running NYC in 2014, I wanted a challenge; I wanted to qualify for Boston. On the surface I knew what it would take, not realizing that it would leave me broke. I was for damn sure that I could do it...even through a hot summer of training and a serious bonk on a 3 hour run (and only 50 calories to sustain myself). How could I not do it? But alas, the wheels came off the bus during the race and I just crumbled. If you know me well, you have the Cliff Notes version of the story.
I brushed myself off a few months later and thought that the NJM could be my shot. Leading up to race day, I took my coach's advice and push hopes of a BQ aside. We needed me to just find confidence. We needed me just to believe in the training. I needed to believe in me. Amidst hurricane like winds, chilly temps, and a downpour, I focused on a strong race and, Goddamn it, I PR'd minutes from my BQ without a care. I accomplished the goal. I believed.
This year, I gained another 5 minutes to a qualifying time, which sounds great, only if I didn't gain 20-ish pounds during my depression. My training, my journey, is to rebuild myself. BQ...maybe one day, but that is no longer the focus. I needed to fail so I could come back from the dead...
Harder, better, faster, stronger.