Sometimes it takes a while for your feelings to catch up with your brain. The 2020 Boston Marathon is now six weeks away.  I’m 12 weeks and over 500 miles into training for it. I did a 12 week training plan before that, just to prepare for the training. Just before that I waited about 3 months to see if my qualification time would get me in.  About 4 months before that, I trained 4 months to run a marathon to get a qualification time that might qualify me to run Boston.  A year before that I had to pull out of the marathon that would’ve been my first attempt at qualification.

It’s been a bit of ride see.

For a while now, there’s been a low level hovering of speculation on the implication of the Corona Virus on the Boston Marathon.  The emphatic view among people who know better things than me, is that it will go ahead. I’m a glass half full girl, I’d been going with that until yesterday.  Suddenly the feelings hit my brain and I wobbled.

Please don’t take this away from me.

I haven’t blogged much about Boston. I wrote weekly for the Flying Pig qualification attempt. I loved writing about that, I couldn’t not, I didn’t even care if people read it. I started to do the same for Boston, but it felt too big. I’m not just saying this, but I felt just a bit unworthy to so openly associate my name with it.

It’s an odd thing see.  Sometimes the world can do this to you, but sometimes you do it to yourself.  You feel like the un-sporty girl, the chubby one, the bookish one, the one clenching their bum cheeks when teams are being picked, the one that never plays for the school.  Some things matter to some people, some things don’t. Back then none of that really mattered to me.

But this matters to me.

I don’t want to run a crazy time at this marathon, I don’t care about passing people (that ain’t gonna happen here!), I swear I don’t even want a PB, although it would be nice, even by a couple of seconds.  I just want to do it. I just want to cross that iconic line, put that iconic medal around my neck and wear the crazy jacket that’s hidden in the cupboard, still in the cellophane.


A lovely, awesome runner friend of mine said to me the other day, focus on what you can control. Wise words.  I’ve since tried to stop worrying about it.  I can’t control if the Boston Marathon goes ahead.  I can control getting up at 4:30am to run in the rain. I can control pushing myself to manageable discomfort on a threshold run. I can control running 12 miles on a Monday and it not even being the long run. I can control how I see myself, (sometimes I wish I was a bit better at that).


There are a million things that might happen in the next 6 weeks over which I have zero control and so, for now, I’m going to carry on chasing unicorns.

Boston or bust.