Running Times, Online

Gomez Grabs 4th

Today at the US Olympic Trials for the Women’s Marathon RT Blog contributor Zoila Gomez ran a spectacularly strong and gutsy race and was rewarded with a 4th place finish. The top three finishers earn berths on the Olympic team, but the 4th place finisher is first alternate. If something should happen to Kastor, Boulet or Russell, Zoila will be the one to take her place.

Zoila started out running with the large chase pack. Magdalena Boulet was running slightly quicker for each mile and had built up a sizeable lead very early on in the race. The chase pack consisted of all the expected names and faces: Kate O’Neill, Elva Dryer, Deena Kastor, Mary Akor and Zoila. Around mile 15 Deena struck out from the front of the chase pack to chase Boulet on her own. Her move caused the pack to string out and Zoila seemed to be falling towards the back of the large pack.

She kept her cool though, and worked her way back up as slowly, others started to drop back or drop out altogether. O’Neill & Dryer were two notable DNFs. By the start of the last loop, around mile 20, Zoila was well within sight of Blake Russell in third place and seemed to have a shot at catching her. But it was not to be. Russell was too strong at the end this time.

Rounding onto Boylston for the final 400 meters though, another runner had caught up to Gomez: Tera Moody, a complete unknown coming into the race and sporting the bib (and therefore, seed number) 152, Moody was having the run of her life as well. Around the bend, onto the sunny section of Boylston as they entered Back Bay, the two were neck and neck, trading the lead on every stride. Zoila managed to cross the line one slim second in front of Moody to claim 4th in 2:33:53, a PR by over 1.5 minutes.

Alyanak 7th

Speaking of unknowns, we here at RT Blogs obviously know about Ann Alyanak, but she wasn’t getting a lot of press otherwise. That could change now though, if her runner-up performance at the US Women’s Marathon Championships here in Boston last year wasn’t good enough, Ann’s performance today was certainly notable. Knocking another 4 minutes off of her PR, Ann finished less than a minute back from Zoila in 7th place with a time of 2:34:46.

Emily LeVan did not come close to equaling her qualifying time, but she was thrilled with her race none-the-less. Her light training schedule this winter, and heavy cancer-treatment schedule for her daughter meant that her expectations for herself were not nearly as high as they have been in the past. She finished in 67th place in 2:45:45.

But in the past three months, the general public has come through and greatly surpassed all of Emily’s expectations for it. As of last Friday, Emily’s Two Trials project has raised over $64,000 for a Maine’s Children’s Cancer Center. Her total goal for the project was $52,400, and over the weekend, NBC aired a segment about Emily & Maddie on the nightly news. She expected to receive even more donations from that publicity.

Last, But Not Least

Finally we have Jackie Dikos, with perhaps the most valiant effort of our four bloggers. In her last post she mentioned the tendonitis she had been dealing with. In the lead-up to a big race, runners must, by necessity, talk down the seriousness of an injury lest she feel defeated before she gets to the line. Jackie was unusually forward about the gravity of her situation, but she toed the line this morning with determination — she was at least going to get the finisher’s medal.

As the race developed, she slowly started losing the pack she had been running with. One could see from the sidelines that her stride was short and awkward and the pain, both physical and mental, was obvious on her face. Throughout the field, runners were dropping out, from top contenders to the heartbreaking woman whose arm cramped and she ran with it frozen to her side for 10 miles in last place before finally dropping.

On the official results, Jackie is the last runner listed with a time: she finished last. But. She finished. And for that, in such a situation, with tens of thousands looking on and no where to hide, for Jackie I have the greatest respect.

I had the chance to preview the Olympic Trials course in Boston last Sunday. While I’ve heard that spring has sprung around certain parts of the country, we were decked out in tights, jackets, hats and gloves as we headed out at 8am. Earlier in the morning, I had boldly announced to Brett and Kasie that it was shorts weather. They looked at me like I had three heads. Luckily, I listened to their reasoning and went with the tights. As we left the parking lot at 8am, we wondered what the weather would be like in three weeks. All of us know that the weather in Boston on marathon weekend can be anything thing from 85 degree heat to the nor’easter of last year. We concluded that, regardless of the weather, we all have to run in it and it is one of the few things that are completely out of our control, so why stress out about it? I learned long ago that I could only concern myself with factors that I can control or modify.

Many people have wondered about the Trials course. Is it the same as the Boston Marathon course? No, it is a specially designed course consisting of a 2.2 mile section starting at the finish of the Boston Marathon passing around the Boston Common and then four 6-mile loops around the Charles River. We started out at the starting line and made our way to toward the Boston Common. This little section does contain the only thing that even remotely resembles a hill on the entire course, and to call it a hill is a bit of a stretch.

Despite the chilly temperature, the route along the Charles River was filled with runners of all shapes, sizes, and speeds. We ran this loop a few times and got a feel for the loop, the turns, and the bridge crossing. I started thinking about the movie European Vacation when they get lost in London and keep passing Big Ben and Parliament. Eight times across the same bridge might get a little boring, but I guess I’ll always know what’s coming. Overall, it would be very safe to describe the course as “pancake flat”. It seems like there are stretches where you could get into a nice rhythm, and it will be very easy to track other competitors, because two of the big turns keep you on the same road in sight of the other runners. I suppose the wind off the Charles could be an issue, but it will be a headwind for part of each loop and a tailwind for the other part. The biggest plus of the course is that it will be very spectator friendly. I anticipate the crowd support being incredible for this event. Hopefully, it will rival the energy and excitement that I’ve experienced 5 times on “Marathon Monday” during the Boston Marathon.

Many people have asked me what it’s like to train for the Olympic Trials, and I find that I struggle to explain the experience, because these last few months have been so much more than just training for the Olympic Trials. You see, in November, my 4-year-old daughter, Maddie, was diagnosed with leukemia (Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia). Now running and training have had to fit into our complex and ever evolving schedule of chemotherapy treatment and our new life with a very sick child.

I qualified for the Trials in 2004, but Maddie was born 3 months before the Trials and I chose not to run. Ironically, I said to my husband, “Oh, there’s always 2008.” For some time, I was so supremely focused on the Trials, but on November 5, 2007 life changed and my entire perspective on running changed. Yes, the Trials are important and my focus has remained strong, but Maddie, Brad, and I are now facing a much more challenging marathon of our own, one that makes running 26.2 miles seem like a walk in the park.

My answer to people when they ask about my training is much the same answer I give people when they ask how Maddie is doing. We are on a rollercoaster ride filled with ups and downs; each day we are unsure whether we will hit a peak or a valley. I find that my training mirrors how Maddie’s treatment is going. When treatment is going smoothly and she is feeling well, the running and training tends to go well. I have altered my approach to training, as 120-mile weeks are no longer possible for me. Quality now reigns supreme over quantity. It’s hard for me to know what results this approach will yield; I suppose we’ll find out in a few short weeks.

Each day for us now is defined by the little successes, like Friday blood counts that enable treatment to move forward or Maddie feeling well enough to run and play with other kids on the playground at school. I suppose it’s all about perspective. Whether or not I hit my exact pace on my mile repeat interval workout or hit 100 miles for a particular week pales in comparison to our daily journey through Maddie’s leukemia treatment.

Running has always provided my life with balance and structure. When Maddie was born, a friend told me that I was now a professional juggler. Trying to manage work, family, and training at a high level did require some serious juggling skills and from time to time I would drop a ball. Still during these challenging times, running helps me balance my life, and Maddie’s journey has helped inspire me throughout these last few months. Regardless of the results on April 20, I will toe the line with my family and Maddie madly cheering with cowbells and pom-poms and celebrate an accomplishment that seemed impossible on November 5. Additionally, it will be a day to embrace the prospect of Maddie’s successful journey toward her finish line – the day she completes cancer treatment some two years down the road.

If you’d like to learn more about our journey to the Trials, through leukemia treatment, and our fundraiser for the Maine Children’s Cancer Program, visit www.twotrials.org

For those who don’t know me, I live in Maine and I’ve lived here since 1991. Typically when people ask me about marathon training in the cold New England winter, I shrug my shoulders and give them some line about it being no big deal and how it builds character. I like to think I’m a pretty seasoned winter runner; I can dodge snowplows and avoid icy wipe-outs with the best of them.

The other day, however, put me in my place. All of you down south will really appreciate this story, and I bet it will drive home to you why you live where you do. I was over in NH and VT for a couple of days. On Friday morning, I awoke to the weather guy calmoring about how it was -10 degrees F. “Aw, c’mon, it can’t be that bad, can it?”, I thought to myself. Knowing that I had to get out this morning for my run since the rest of the day was packed, I decided to find out if it really was -10 degrees F.

I made several strategic errors this morning. First, I put on my running clothes and left the warm, safe haven of my hotel room. Second, I had foolishly let Brad (my husband) take the balaclava (or my “running nun” headgear as my friend likes to call it) on his ski trip to Colorado, leaving me with only a hat to protect my head. Third, I didn’t turn around when I realized within the first 5 minutes that I didn’t have enough clothes to keep me warm.

No, not me, like a fool, I thought I’d warm up. Twenty minutes into the run, I knew I was in trouble when my ears were numb and fingers and face were on their way. I passed by Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center and seriously thought about stopping in, but I’m too stubborn for that and I didn’t want to cut my run any shorter. So, the last 3 miles became a serious speed workout, as I tried to generate some body heat and reach my hotel in record time.

When I burst through the door, my mom and Maddie (my 4-year-old daughter) freaked out. I’m not sure if their reaction was due to my early arrival or my frozen appearance. I stripped off my hat to find my right ear numb and blanched (white). Yikes! I gently tried to rewarm it by placing my head against my arm. Soon, a stinging, burning sensation filled my ear and it became beet red (a good sign) as opposed to black and necrotic, but it remained numb.

I suppose it’s called frostnip, a kinder and gentler version of frostbite, but, whatever its name, it’s not fun. Four days later the ear is still somewhat numb, but getting better.

I guess you could look at this experience as a character builder, but I just felt stupid, like I should know better. Brad always jokes with me that if a blizzard happens on the weekend of the Trials, I’ll have a good chance. I don’t know about that, but I do know that if the frigid temps do hit the weekend of the Trials, I’ll be wearing the balaclava. Lesson learned.