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What started as a little experiment in blogging has evolved into my renewed love for writing the raw, gritty truth. Running has always had so many parallels to life's ups and downs. As a new cancer survivor/fighter, running and writing has continued to be there for me in my quest to always move forward, always try to be better than yesterday. Find me: http://www.curetoday.com/community/kate or on facebook: running, cancer, and everything in between or on twitter: runliftbreathe

Friday, November 1, 2013


In the running world, we all know what BQ means, boston qualifying time...what makes Boston so special & elite technically, is that you have to have a qualifying time to be able to apply to try to get in (unless you get a charity number, which means you raise x amount of $ for a particular charity). It still is not a guarantee based on how many people in your age group applied & what their qualifying times were. It is in a league of it's own.

I am not going to lie...I knew exactly what my "qualifying time" needed to be. I also knew that depending on how I was feeling, and how the race played out...I could easily end up happy just with a finish. Even when everything goes right in your training, race day could just not be your day, & you could end up having to adjust your goals.

When I crossed the finish, I looked at the Finish Clock Time (running clock time) and thought, "oh well, I just missed it...well, I gave it a good fight, & I have nothing to be ashamed of. Still a great race, great time, great finish"....When I literally stopped my Garmen and then, stopped running...everything hurt...my hip flexors felt like they were on fire, and my calves began to cramp up...honest to God, I could barely walk.

I found my husband, and I told him I just needed to get out of there...all I wanted to do was go home & plunge into boiling water to work out all the tightness & cramping I was immediately feeling. I remember, thinking that I was so happy I finished because then, I would never have to do THAT again. Clearly, half marathons and below were more my thing...I could do well & not take up too much time of my life training, I could definitely walk better after the finish...yes, the big joke at this race, how do you tell the halfers versus the fulls? The Halfs were all drinking beer and enjoying the live rock bands...the Marathoners were looking for bananas, more water, & the quickest exit out of there.

We made the big trek home (all of 20 minutes) with me cramping up with every move I made...(I so should have stayed and taken advantage of that massage tent)...I made it up the stairs, & literally, plunged into a bath as hot as I could stand. Shortly, after, I got dressed to head over to the two soccer games for my girls when I got the message...

A dear friend of mine who is practically the major of running if running were a town...she knew my exact time...& indeed those two sweet letters beside them...BQ. And just like that, I was feeling like a million bucks again. Gone were the cramps, the dehydration...all I had was hope.

That's why we all refer to it as Boston...everyone knows what you mean when you say "I'm doing Boston", "I'm trying to qualify" (for Boston), "I BQ'd"....it symbolizes something so sacred and special...it's hope wrapped up in two letters...

I will throw my hat into Boston 2015, and if luck goes my way, I will get a hard-earned number...and I will run with hope, joy, pride....and love...because there is nothing like a BQ, nothing that compares to Boston.

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