And, so it goes...

Well, five months, 549 training miles, 26.2 marathon miles and a whopping $4,204 raised for Bottom Line and it's all over. Thank you again to everyone that helped support me and Bottom Line; thanks to those that followed along and kept me going; thanks to Bottom Line for an amazing team experience. I'm sad it's all over, but very happy not to be getting up for those long runs on Saturday mornings (at least for a while).

I will definitely keep running, and without a doubt will keep writing, so stay tuned....

Love and thanks,

Sam, the accidental runner

I'd like to thank....

The following people gave generous support, encouragement and donations to help me get ready for the marathon and to help disadvantaged Boston students go to college. We raised $3,844 and sent a kid to college!!!

You all make the awesome list, THANK YOU.

* Kate Moore * Maureen Apter * Jim Taylor * Alison Hynd * Katie Elbert Enos * Nicole Scott * Nancie Koenigsberg * Samantha LaCroix * Vinyl Street, the tallest a cappella group in Boston * Brenden and Meg Ahern * Mike and Petra Devine * Jason McKnight * Corina Gomez * Irma Ortiz * Amal Harrati * Kristi Gundrum Kebinger * Harini Angara * Snehal Pathak * Emily DeMelo * Sara Savacool * Lauren Castro * Kristina Schmid * Michael Looney * Brooke Roberts * I-Ching Lao * Tony Johnson * The Coopers * Donna Ward * Teri Flemming * Billie Wilcox Brooke * Joe Finkhouse * Andrew Momb * Marlon Grace * The Anthonys * Catherine Hanley * Jeff Roberts * Kaitlin Gibson * The Theriaults * Angela Manginelli * Mike Wartman * Steve Breman * Ben Ligon * The Moores * Courtney Coakley * Jackie McKeon * Eric Ahern * Bob and Cecy Ahern * Liz McLaughlin * Sarah Rosenbluth * Cynthia Singer * Tom Kelley * Inci Kaya * TJ Ward * Barry Gannon * Lauren Wojtkun * Meagan Schultz * Keith Gregg * Catherine Kirwan-Avila * Erin McFee * Louann DeClaire* Andrea Gatti* Cian Duggan*Philippe Pavillard * MaryBeth Manca * Emma Strike * E Derek Smith

Well, Hello Taper

21 miles later...

I am tired. The last 21 weeks have taken their toll and I am looking around to find a bruised and beaten body. I am so tired; so tired of the aches and pains; tired of blisters and back pain, and of the shooting pain in my knees when I go up or down stairs; so tired of getting up at 5 or 6 am on Saturday. I am tired of fundraising and asking people for money! I am so tired of smelling like dried sweat and salt. I am tired of walking into my room and being met by a wall of smell that is my running clothes, just hanging there and waiting for the next time I have to pull them on. The other day on the subway I kept moving seats because I thought the homeless guy sitting close to me was too smelly. Turns out that smell was ME and my stupid wicking gear.

And I am so tired of eating!! I never thought, as a woman who loves her food, I would ever feel that way. But I am so. tired. of. eating. When I am not sleeping or running or talking about running or thinking about running, I am EATING. Enough!

And just when I think I am too tired for any more of it, the taper arrives.

Hello taper! Sweet, glorious taper. The taper means that training is coming to an end and that the hay is in the barn. There is no amount of training I can do over the next week that will help me for the marathon. It's all been done and now it is just time to rest and be excited for race day.

And I am really SUPER EXCITED! Hello race day!

It's been a long haul and I'm going to spend the next week trying to relax, trying to not let my nerves get the better of me and just trying to enjoy the moment. It's not every day that you run the Boston marathon, and I really just want to enjoy it with my friends, my family and my team.

So, share the excitement with me and follow me on race day. You can sign up for Athlete Alert by clicking here and use my bib number (23026) to get updates of where I am as I run the marathon.

More to come this week as I count down the last 7 days...

19 miles of pure suckage (with a little bit of a happy ending)

Last week couldn't have been more different. I woke up to a sunny day and ran a strong 13-miles with the spring wind at my back the whole time. I felt a huge difference from the last time I ran 13 miles, and, for the first time in my training, I felt like a runner. My body felt strong, my mind was clear and focused - it just felt good.

This past Saturday was an entirely different story. I was a bit worried for the run, since all of last week I had been burning the midnight oil and hadn't gotten enough sleep. Indeed, from the moment the run started, things just weren't right. The rain had already begun, and only two miles in, I had to stop and trek into Boston University to find a bathroom. Things never recovered after that. The wind started blowing and I started getting stomach cramps. I crossed over the river and was hit by a wall of wind for the next five miles. My body was struggling and then all of the sudden my brain turned on me.

When I was in Slovakia last summer for a music festival, my friends and I walked past this guy, curled in a ball on the grass - clearly on drugs and clearly not liking it. "That guy's world is imploding right now," said my friend. Well, that's what my world felt like for an entire 12 miles and two hours of running. I slowed to a stumble, my feet were soaked and my hands frozen. I had to stop again to find a bathroom and I couldn't believe that I still had seven miles to go. I pulled the bill down on my hat and my world became a semi-circle of rain and pain.

Just last week I was a runner! And now, I was a stumbling mess that was practically crawling along the river. All my teammates were miles ahead. I was alone and running and it just wouldn't end.

And then, at about mile 12, I just got really mad and I decided to turn it around.

At last week's Bottom Line meeting, our team met a student who told us a little of his story. Jerry was born in Haiti and talked to us about growing up with rats biting him in his sleep and his mom struggling to pay for his schooling. When his mom couldn't afford it any longer, he was sent to America to live with his Dad. His Dad mistreated him and sent him off to another Haitian family, where they made him work each night collecting garbage and treated him like a slave. Finally, at just 16 years-old, Jerry realized he couldn't stay in that situation and moved out on his own. He got an apartment, worked 50 hours a week and finished high school. He eventually found out about Bottom Line, and when he wasn't accepted into any colleges, they helped him get into a boarding school and then reaplly to colleges the following year. Jerry is now a sophomore at Regis College, is studying in their competitive nursing program and also works full-time. More often than not, Jerry doesn't sleep because he goes to classes during the day and works two jobs during nights to pay for school.

When Jerry spoke to us about his experience, he stressed how grateful he is to Bottom Line and how he would never give up on them because they never gave up on him. He thanked us for running the marathon and for helping.

I couldn't stop thinking of Jerry. In the obsessive, delirious state that high-mileage running brings, Jerry became my running guardian angel. Now, I feel ridiculous complaining about some painful three-hour run. In the grand scheme of things, it is completely insignificant and silly. But, during my implosion, I was just completely overwhelmed with how grateful I was to be running for someone like Jerry. This kid that doesn't even know me, that is doing things much harder than run 19 miles.

So, for the last seven miles, I ran with Jerry and put it all in a little perspective. The truth is, it was just as shitty for the last seven miles. With only two miles left, I had to start yelling at myself to keep going (and I'm sure I made an awesome portrait of a person - soaked right through and yelling obscenities into the wind). But, I finished. The whole goddamn 19 miles. In the rain. For three and half hours. For Jerry.

I write a lot about the bumps and bruises, but the reason I am running the Boston marathon has nothing to do with me or the shocking amount of body glide needed (or the shocking amount of hamburgers I've eaten this year alone). The reason that I am running is for the Bottom Line students and for a great organization that makes a great impact on people's lives.

And so, more than feeling tired, wet and sore (and cranky beyond belief), I just feel grateful.

Life without college

This post is brought to you by Body Glide - helping you avoid saddle sores (oh yeah) and keeping you lubed and running no matter the risk of chaffing.


I ran a long and lonely 18 miles on Friday. I couldn't run with the team on Saturday, so I took advantage of my unemployment (and took a break from dressing up my monkeys) and decided to put my time to good use.

It's hard to get out of bed when you are facing 18 miles, but I like to lie to myself a little bit. "I'll just do 13 miles today, it's not life or death if I walk the rest or do 18 next weekend." That pretty much works for me every time. That's how my girlfriends and I got ourselves into our first marathon; we lied to ourselves up until the last .2 of the race. It started with, "We'll just go and walk the whole thing." Then, "We'll just do the half marathon and then walk the rest." I'm not saying that there wasn't some anger walking throughout the race, but we did run the whole thing, when it all really started as a long drinking tour of France. I'm telling you, lying works.

So, I was lying my way through my run, when I started thinking about how my life would be different if I hadn't gone to college. It's practically impossible to fathom, and there are so many different ways that my cookie could have crumbled. But I do know that, without college, I wouldn't have studied abroad in France or learned French. If I hadn't studied abroad, then I wouldn't have realized how important international education is in my life and I wouldn't have chosen it as a field to work in. I probably wouldn't have lived in London or met any of the people that are my closest friends now. I certainly would not have moved to Boston for work and I definitely would not have taken 15 months to travel the world, learn Spanish and start writing. It's getting hard enough just to find an entry-level job these days that doesn't require a Masters degree, so college is the ultimate opportunity. Without college, I simply cannot think of what my life would be. (I mean, I wouldn't even know how to do a keg stand! What kind of life is that?!)

Lying can be a motivator, but so can a cause. Somewhere during my ouchie run, I realized that running is the least I can do to help someone else go to college and I would run everyday (in fact, I do!) if it meant one more person had the opportunity to realize a life that perhaps you and I take for granted.

If there is anyone out there still reading, how would your life be different without college?

My supporters

A little Friday fun for everyone. Folks- this is what happens when you are unemployed and spending too much time running.

Here's to my best supporters and mascots...

My monkeys showing just what support looks like (Mickey and Bubba are wearing the 2010 Bottom Line Thong and fueling for their next run by eating Gu; George is sporting the Bottom Line Team Go Far singlet and loving it)

Bubba, rockin it.

The Bottom Line Thong, on a human.

Thanks to all the Bottom Line supporters out there!

16 miles tomorrow morning and I know my monkeys have my back.

What I think about when I think about running

You have a lot of time to think when you are running. People say that running is the best therapy, and it's true - several hours of pounding the pavement and your mind better have something to touch on. I find that I can't plan too much what I'm going to think about, it kind of just pops out of nowhere and then I'm pretty much on a mental joyride while my body is doing its thing. I've come up with amazing come-backs, for example, on long runs. Or planned a week of to-dos. Or had an entire argument, from both sides, and realized what needs to be said. My brain can really focus on one issue for a couple of hours and really run it through my system until I feel like I'm a thinking machine. I find a lot of clarity with sweaty, uninterrupted thinking. You should try it sometime.

My original running partners, Kate and Catherine, used to plan our running agendas when we were training for a marathon together. We always ran the first few miles together, before our paces staggered a bit, and the agenda was usually as follows: 1) Boys, 2) Work, 3) Travel. We could have solved the problems of the world together, but I guess there is only so much running you can actually do.

Running is great therapy because of the thinking that can be done; it's also a great empowering experience because of the people you run with. I am running with a great group of people, all helping to support Bottom Line. It truly helps to have someone cheering you on when you are faltering a bit mid-run, and to have people there to clap you across the finish line. But I also have to acknowledge the people I think about that get me out the door and that are in my thoughts during a lot of solo moments of my training. So this one is for my ladies, my running partners and friends. Training for a marathon is hard, and, for me, it would be impossible without them.

I think, too, about how impossible it would be to get through an experience like college without the same support network. Knowing that Kate and Catherine were somewhere in front or behind me during a run made a huge difference for me. I can only imagine that having the support of Bottom Line, just knowing someone is out there to lend a hand or an ear, makes the same difference to some of the students I'm running for.

So, thank you to everyone that has supported me and Bottom Line students so far. Life is a marathon, and marathon's are hard. Thank you for the help, the food for thought, the inspiration and the love!

9 weeks and $3500 more to go...

I ♥ Heartbreak Hill

"Heartbreak Hill is an ascent over 0.4 mile (600 m) of the Boston Marathon course, between the 20 and 21 mile marks, in the vicinity of Boston College. It is the last of four "Newton hills", which begin at the 16 mile mark. The Newton hills confound contestants (out of proportion to their modest elevation gain) by forcing a late climb after the downhill trend of the race to that point. Heartbreak Hill itself rises only 88 vertical feet (27 m), from an elevation of 148 feet at the bottom to an elevation of 236 feet at the top, but is positioned at a point on a marathon course where muscle glycogen stores are likely to be depleted—a phenomenon referred to by marathoners as "hitting the wall." - Wikipedia

***

Everything hurts.

I make old man noises getting up from a seated position. Or walking up stairs. Or walking down stairs.

My left calf seizes up regularly, and I've realized that it's affecting my knee and my lower back. I have pretty severe lower back pain that just won't go away. Also, my left groin doesn't feel right and sometimes I feel like my left side is going to collapse at any moment.

All of this, of course, and I still have cellulite and tree trunks for thighs. No one tells you this when you start training for a marathon. I think of it a little like a pregnancy: I eat more, my body has strange demands and doesn't quite feel right, and I have this vague feeling that I just won't really ever be the same again. Of course, I have no idea if it's like pregnancy...I'll have to ask my pregnant friends what noises they make when they pull themselves out of bed in the morning or if they have a dull fear of having gotten themselves into something without really knowing what they were doing. However, I'm pretty sure heartbreak hill is a breeze compared to childbirth, so perhaps I should stop myself here.

With all these developments, I've decided that running is just not enough. This week, I will be starting to add core workouts and cross training to my schedule. (I know, I know - what took me so long? Listen people- I'm not superwoman!) And so it is that exercise has taken over my life.

Because of all this, I also have a new cocktail in my life. My friends know that I enjoy a good martini from time to time. Well, my new drink of choice is a little more nursing home fabulous than I'd like, but it dulls the pain and makes me feel yummy. Just mix two parts advil with three parts chocolate milk and you've got yourself a party!

Eating like a man

(Photo: Jessica Szhor (no, not me) from Men's Health June 2009)

The past two weeks I've noticed a worrying and familiar trend.

I've started eating like a lumber jack.

I mean, I can really polish off a meal...with gusto, in startling amounts and with a hunger that is a force to be reckoned with. I do remember "the runner's hunger" from my first marathon training. Somehow, though, I feel like age is not on my side this time. A 30-year-old woman shouldn't be eating like this. Like a man. Only I would run a marathon and not lose a pound. Ugh.

Last weekend, after a long run on a cold day, my boyfriend and I made pasta for dinner. We both sat down at the table and looked at each other and our plates like two dogs over their dinner bowls. Fingers could have been lost.

Ultimately, I lost that round. Eric finished off his pasta and I was left tired and uncomfortable with food still left behind. That wasn't the case the week before when pad thai was involved. I'm pretty sure I saw both horror and respect in Eric's eyes when I polished off my pad thai like a hyenna sucking the marrow out of a carcass. I'm in training, what does he expect?

It does make me wonder what happens when men train. Eric already eats like a man, naturally. So, now, he just eats like a fat man trapped in the body of a little man. Beyonce said it, and I agree, there is a fat girl inside me clawing to come out. The fat girl in me and the fat man in Eric make unappetizing dinner partners. Probably a good thing we run the fatsy twins into submission.

My inner fatty might win at dinner, but I'm dragging her along this Saturday for 15 miles and that bitch better get in line.

Thong-a-thon!

Folks, we have a winner.

Some of you may remember that I had a t-shirt contest back in December to come up with a snazzy tag line to help sell t-shirts for fundraising. Well, some of you participated (thank you, thank you) and some of you chose to leave the good ideas to the experts. Well, I'm glad you did. The beautiful, the talented, the oh-so-clever, Catherine Hanley came up with the snazziest slogan that ever was.

It is my pleasure to introduce my 2010 Bottom Line fundraising apparel: The Bottom Line Thong!
Participate in the February Thong-a-Thon and help Boston kids get into college and graduate!

Thongs are $15. Please email me for sizing requests and details; I am happy to accommodate all sizes and shipping needs ;) sjcooper79@gmail.com

Congratulations to our winner; Catherine will be receiving a free thong and the warmth in knowledge that she helped a kid get into college!

(Frozen) Blood, (frozen) sweat and (frozen) tears

I'm halfway through my training and it feels like things are just getting started. And just starting to get very real.

For the past 11 weeks, I've been doing runs during the week (when I've been able to peel myself out of bed) and never missing a long run on the weekends. But, the marathon has been far off in my mind and it's been easy to say I'm in training, never quite feeling that way. But as the mileage increases (15 miles this coming weekend), my life is starting to adjust itself around my training schedule. Friday nights, for example, I like to be in bed by 10 p.m., so I am rested and ready for a long run at 8 a.m. the next day. Saturdays, therefore, are dominated by pre-run preparations, the run itself and then post-run haze. I'm a big mess of jelly happiness on Saturdays: I barely drag my wobbly knees into the shower to wash the salt and road off, then manage to eat and collapse into bed. This past Saturday, it was 6 p.m. before I felt normal again, and then really never recovered enough to be a useful human being for the night.

Running also gets a lot more real when you are dealing with freezing temperatures. On Saturday, I woke up to stare with shock and horror at the weather report: 6 degrees with a wind chill of -14. It was 6 a.m. and I was clutching my coffee like a lifeline and blinking at wunderground.com. It just couldn't be. I was thinking back to a morning a few weeks prior, when it was 18 degrees out and, as I crossed the Mass Ave bridge to return to the Boston side, I had the unpleasant realization that something was wrong with my eyeball. The wind was careening through my body and whipped right through my left eye until I could feel my eyeball juice freeze. Ick. Frozen eyeballs are what separate the "Exercisers" from the "Trainers," at least that's what I think. If I just wanted a smaller ass, then running outside in sub-zero temperatures wouldn't really occur to me. So, when it came to running outside in even colder temperatures this past weekend, I had my reservations. Luckily, my roommate Nicole let me borrow her ski mask and I started suiting up:

• Two pairs of socks
• Two pairs of running pants
• Three shirts
• Two pairs of gloves
• Ski mask
• Hat

I looked like a ninja. I felt like a moron.

It did the job, though. I felt like I was running with a force field around me and the 13 miles went by pretty quickly. Because of the cold temperatures, the only other runners I encountered were those that were training for something. And a guy pulling two tires behind him (and I thought I was cool looking like a ninja...)We all nodded our heads at each other, happy in the knowledge that we were on some sort of hard-core spectrum in life. Also, realizing that we were all a special breed of moron to be running in 6 degrees.

Sadly, my eyeball still froze. Next time, I'll have to bring some sunglasses.

With 11 weeks to go, I am officially in it. I vow to write more, run more and raise more money!