Poetic Reflection

I'm not a poet, never have been, but over the course of the month following the 118th Boston Marathon, my mind has been swirling, and once I finally got some clarity and focus, this came out.  It's no work of art, by any means, but it captures my experience, the good, the bad and the ugly.

Boston Marathon

Bright sun reflecting off the snow, day after Christmas, Inbox

“First three to respond get a spot on the team.”

Eyes wide, instant reply, no hesitation,

“I’m in.”

Moments of doubt mixed with bits of panic and excitement,

Two training months behind the team, daunting.

Hit the pavement, slow and steady.

Run.

Building mileage around town, solo steps, motivated steps

Catching up, mile by mile,

Four weeks, running hard, following the plan.

Ready.

First group run in Newton, stomach twisting, palms sweating,

Peeking inside, hesitating to enter, a flash of orange,

“Kelly, so glad you could join us.”

Coach.

Long runs with the team, cherished Saturday ritual,

Meeting the Boston course, Hell’s Alley and Heartbreak Hill.

Extreme cold, ice and snow, 

Progress.

Exhaustion setting in, miles adding up to new limits.

Sacrificing for a chance at success,

Time, energy, …birthdays.

Commitment.

Bonding with my teammates, usually so shy and quiet.

Strong together, pushing each other,

Pacing and laughing, shenanigans.

Team.

Feeling invincible, like a real marathoner, right through March.

Mile 18, Newton Hills…ugh, those hills,

Stopped in my tracks, excruciating

Injury.

Disappointed, but not defeated, three weeks to rehab.

Physical therapy weekly, cross-training, following advice,

IT Band, rolling, stretching

Determined.

Overcome with emotion, one week to go, Marathon Monday.

Relying on the team, taking advice from Coach,

Falling apart, this doesn’t happen to me.

Strength?

118th Boston Marathon, April 21, 2014, into the city, bright pink sky

Thanks Chad, check this one off the list.

Confidence setting in, finding my teammates, comfort.

Today.

Hurry up and wait, wave four, 11:25 start, Athlete’s Village.

Final preparations, hugs and smiles and food,

“Wave four, head to the start line.”

Reality.

Burning sets in at mile one, silent panic, quiet agony.

Energy, emotion, excitement carry my feet,

Not going to quit, not today, not this race.

Pain.

Sun is beating down, temps are climbing, not enough water.

Crowds spraying cool water onto the course,

Handing out ice cubes.

Support.

Some miles easy, other miles treacherous,

Wellesley, Newton Hills, Heartbreak.

Leaning on one another throughout, weakness and strength alternating.

Heart.

Mile 25, tears flow for the first time, of pain, relief, and pure emotion.

One Mile sign - “Now we just run, we finish this.”

Right on Hereford, left on Boylston,

Flying.

The Finish Line, 26.2 miles come to a triumphant end.

Four months of blood, sweat and tears, hard work and heartache,

A part of history, a shining accomplishment, “I did it, Coach.”

Victory.

What’s worse than pre-race emotions?  Post-race emotions.

Training defined and dominated for months, every moment and thought.

It’s over, no more training, motivating talks, team hysterics.

Lost.

Train wreck at best, avoiding reality, living somewhere unchartered

Unfocused, trying to make sense of life, failing miserably

Grasping at nothing, ignoring what’s real, refusing to deal.

Crisis.

Pushing the limit exceedingly, needing, demanding, faltering horribly.

Forced a door to close, to slam with unprecedented force, devastating

Out of a fog, found missing clarity, paid a hefty price.

Forever?

Looking forward and learning from the past, mistakes make us human.

Refocusing on the future, one day at a time, planning,

Conscious of every action, of cause and effect.

Clarity.

A life-changing experience, understatement of my 37 years.

Joy, pain, laughter, tears, disappointment, and triumph.

“Would you do it all again?”

Absolutely. 

But, better next time.