A History of Music: 100 Marathons Edition

Words matter. When combined with a strong beat and catchy tune? Watch out world, here I come. 

Three days ago, I finished my 100^th race of 26.2 miles or more. I’m trying to come to terms with what that means. This list is my start. 

These songs got me through tough times, running and otherwise. I no longer listen to every single one as religiously as I once did. But some are angels that continue to lift me up and move me forward when things get rocky. This list is in chronological order, roughly, from the year 2000, when I started training for marathon #1, to now. In some cases, I note why these songs matter to me. Sometimes, I pinpoint lyrics that were and/ or are especially meaningful. 

What I got from this exercise: a musical visit with some of the best and worst memories ever, and yet another reminder that perseverance, resilience, endurance need constant nurturing. Music not only soothes this savage beast, but it also inspires me as well. Here’s my last quarter century, one song at a time. 

 

“Born to Run,” Bruce Springsteen. The whole song is my alpha and omega. 

“Rosalita.” Take heart. Courage.  “Jump a little higher.” “Winners use the door.”

“Badlands.”  “Let the broken heart stand for the price you’ve gotta pay.”

“Thunder Road.” “I ain’t no hero that’s understood.” 

 

“Disappear.” INXS. Sometimes, running is effortless. 

  You're so fine, lose my mind
  And the world seems to disappear
  All the problems, all the fears
  And the world seems to disappear

 

“Head Over Heels” The Go-Go’s. Self-explanatory: “Been running so fast/ right from the starting line/. . . can’t stop myself /out of control.”

 

“Young American.” David Bowie. Not so much the words, but the music is phenomenal. 

“Heroes.” “We can be heroes just for one day.”

 

 

“Don’t Stop Me Now.” Queen. The whole song - words, music, is perfection.

“Keep Yourself Alive.” Ditto. 

 

“American Girl.” Tom Petty. “She couldn’t stop thinking that there was a little more to life, somewhere else.” Still think this. 

“Running Down a Dream.”  Still: “Searching for a mystery. Going wherever it leads.” 

“I Won’t Back Down.” Be relentless: “There ain’t no easy way out/ I’ll stand my ground/ And I won’t back down. “

 

“Handle with Care.” Traveling Wilburys. Be resilient. 

  I've been uptight and made a mess
  But I'll clean it up myself, I guess
  Oh, the sweet smell of success

“End of the Line.” Be you. “Well, it's all right/ even if they say you're wrong/
Well, it's all right/ sometimes you gotta be strong

 

“Running to Stand Still.” U2.  Truth. “She is raging she is raging. . . she’s running to stand still.”

“Who’s Gonna to Ride Your Wild Horses.” Eyes forward. “Come on now love/ don't you look back.”

“Mysterious Ways.” It’s okay. Hard things take time. “It's all right, it's all right, it's all right/
She moves in mysterious ways.”

“Stuck in a Moment.” Self-explanatory. I still recite this as I run, sometimes:

  I'm not afraid of anything in this world
  There's nothing you can throw at me that I haven't already heard
  I’m just trying to find a decent melody
  A song that I can sing in my own company

 

 

“The Rising.” Springsteen. Every. Single. Word.

“My City of Ruins.” To my legs, to my mood: “C’mon rise up.” 

 

“Come to My Window.” Melissa Etheridge. Gotta get to that finish line. 

  You don't know how far I'd go to ease this precious ache
  And you don't know how much I'd give

  or how much I can take
  Just to reach you

“I Want to Come Over.” Leave it all out on the course:  “To hell with the consequence.”

 

“Bat Out of Hell." Meatloaf. The driving beat, the Wagnerian sturm und drang, the ride or die craziness. 

  Oh, baby you're the only thing in this whole world 
  That's pure and good and right. 
  And wherever you are and wherever you go 
  There's always gonna be some light, 
  But I gotta get out, I gotta break out now 
  Before the final crack of dawn.

 

“I Would Do Anything for Love.” Questions to ask during a run:

  Will you raise me up? 

  Will you help me down?
  Will you get me right out of this godforsaken town?
  Can you make it all a little less cold?

   I can do that

 

 

“It’s My Life.” Bon Jovi.  Self-explanatory. “It’s now or never/ I ain’t gonna live forever/ I just want to live while I’m alive”

“Livin’ on a Prayer.”  Trust the process. “Take my hand and we’ll make it I swear.”

“Wide Open Spaces.” The Chicks. Even now, at my advanced age: 

  She needs wide open spaces
  Room to make her big mistakes
  She needs new faces
  She knows the high stakes

 

“Not Ready to Make Nice.” Not ready to settle for less than what I deserve. 

  I'm not ready to make nice,
  I'm not ready to back down,
  I'm still mad as hell
  And I don't have time
  To go round and round and round

"The Long Way Around." You have to be who you need to be. 

  Guess I could have made it easier on myself

  But I, I could never follow
  No I, I could never follow

  Well, I never seem to do it like anybody else
  Maybe someday, someday I'm gonna settle down
  If you ever want to find me I can still be found

  Taking the long way
  Taking the long way around

 

“Don’t You Forget About Me.” Simple Minds. Everything about this song. 

“Alive and Kicking.” It’s perfection. 

 

“Silver Spring.” Fleetwood Mac. In reference to every single marathon: “Time casts a spell on you /but you won't forget me.”

 

 

“Land of Hope and Dreams.” Springsteen. All of it, but in particular this, because things do get better: “Dreams will not be thwarted/ This train/ Faith will be rewarded.”

“Devils and Dust.” A reminder to keep going, even when you’re afraid.  

 We're just trying to survive
 What if what you do to survive kills the things you love
 Fear’s a powerful thing
 It'll turn your heart black you can trust
 It'll take your God filled soul
 Fill it with devils and dust

“Long Walk Home.” Always makes me laugh when this comes on and I’m walking during a race and I still have a long way to go, and yes, I know it’s about some serious stuff. 

 It's gonna be a long walk home
 Hey pretty darling, don't wait up for me
 Gonna be a long walk home
 A long walk home

“Girls in Their Summer Clothes.” This line always makes me smile: “I ain't got much sense but I still got my feet.”

 

“I Drove All Night.” Cyndi Lauper.  A reminder to stay the course: “I drove all night to get to you/ Is that alright?

“Time After Time.” Have faith in yourself.  

 If you're lost, you can look, and you will find me
 Time after time
 If you fall, I will catch you, I'll be waiting
 Time after time

“True Colors.” Believe.  

 And I'll see your true colors
 Shining through
 I see your true colors
 And that's why I love you
 So don't be afraid to let it show

 Your true colors

 

“I’ll Remember.” Madonna. Homage to loved ones gone too soon. 

 I'll remember the strength that you gave me
 Now that I'm standing on my own
 I'll remember the way that you saved me
 I'll remember

“Like a Prayer.” After a while, the marathon course feels like home. Weird, I know. 

 Life is a mystery
 Everyone must stand alone
 I hear you call my name
 And it feels like home

“All These Things That I’ve Done.” The Killers. Everything. This song is everything. 

“Crossfire.” Brandon Flowers. Don’t give up. 

 Tell the devil that he can go back from where he came
 His fiery arrows drew their bead in vain
 And when the hardest part is over, we'll be here
 And our dreams will break the boundaries of our fears
 Boundaries of our fears

“Magdalena.” There’s no substitute for solid, old-fashioned, hard work. 

 Please don't tell me I can't make it
 It ain't gonna do me any good
 And please don't offer me your modern methods
 I'm fixing to carve this out of wood

 

 

“You and I.” Lady Gaga. Persistence. 

 It's been a long time since I came around
 Been a long time but I'm back in town
 And this time I'm not leaving without you (the “you” in this case being a finisher medal)

“Bad Romance.” This is a great song. Building your life around running marathons is an absolutely spot-on example of being in a crazy relationship: “I want your love and I want your revenge/You and me could write a bad romance.” 

 

“Hit Me with Your Best Shot.” Pat Benatar. This entire song because at least once per race this is how I think: “Knock me down/ it's all in vain/I get right back on my feet again.”

“All Fired Up.” Had to blast this song on repeat as I got closer to marathon 100 and everything started to line up just right for the first time in ages. 

  All fired up (now I believe there comes a time)
  All fired up (when everything just falls in line)
  All fired up (we live an' learn from our mistakes)
  All fired up, fired up, fired up

“Avenging Annie.” Andy Pratt. Who doesn’t love a feisty anti-heroine /marathoner?

“Photograph.” Def Leppard. I just love the music. 

“Shut Up and Dance.” Walk the Moon. Stay focused. “Don’t you dare look back. Just keep your eyes on me” (the finish line/goal).

"The Story," Brandi Carlile. Gratitude, dedication, heart. 

  I climbed across the mountaintops
  Swam all across the ocean blue
  I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules
  But baby, I broke them all for you

 

 

“Wrecking Ball.” Springsteen.  Be your own hero/ wrecking ball. “Hard times come /and hard times go/ just to come again/ Bring on your wrecking ball.” 

“Lonesome Day.” A reminder that it’s not always easy, but staying the course matters. 

 Baby, once I thought I knew
 Everything I needed to know about you
 Your sweet whisper, your tender touch
 But I didn't really know that much
J oke's on me, it's gonna be okay
 If I can just get through this lonesome day

 

“What a Fool Believes.” The Doobie Brothers. You’ve got to be a bit of a fool to keep running for years and years. Be your own fool. Believe. “What a fool believes, he sees/The wise man has the power to reason away/But a fool believes.” 

 

“River Deep Mountain High.“Tina Turner. This song is obviously a love song to marathon running, the best sport ever. 

 And do I love you my oh my
 Yeah, river deep, mountain high
 If I lost you would I cry

“Disco Inferno.” (TinaTurner version). The beat is phenomenal. “Burn, baby, burn/ disco inferno/
Burn, baby, burn/ Burn that mother down.”

 

“Run.” Snow Patrol/Leona Lewis. Reminds me of loved ones, now passed, telling me to keep on keeping on. 

 Light up, light up
 As if you have a choice
 Even if you cannot hear my voice
 I'll be right beside you dear

 Louder, louder
 And we'll run for our lives

 

“Superheroes.” The Script. It’s all true. 

 She's got lions in her heart, a fire in her soul 
 He's a got a beast in his belly that's so hard to control
 'Cause they've taken too much hits, taking blow by blow
 Now light a match, stand back, watch 'em explode

 

 

"You Haven’t Seen the Last of Me." Cher.  Old, slow runner fighting words, this song revs me up. 

 I've been brought down to my knees
 And I've been pushed way past the point of breaking
 But I can take it
 I'll be back
 Back on my feet
 This is far from over
 I am far from over
 You haven't seen the last of me

 

 

“Titanium.” Sia. I’m Titanium, literally. Many years ago, I completed 30 marathons in a total of 30 different states in 365 days, which earned me the rank of Titanium in the Marathon Maniac running club. In fact, as I finished marathon #30, this song was playing on the loudspeaker. “You shoot me down, but I won’t fall. I am Titanium.” Yes. I am. 

“The Greatest.” Positive thoughts to positive words to positive actions. 

 Don't give up, I won't give up
 Don't give up, no no no

 I'm free to be the greatest, I'm alive
 I'm free to be the greatest here tonight, the greatest

 

“Unstoppable.” Talk about a perfect affirmation. 

“Chandelier.” You get one life. Live it. “I’m gonna swing from the chandelier. . . I’m gonna live like tomorrow doesn’t exist.”

“Never Give Up.” Sometimes, things are awful, but you must keep moving forward. 

 And I won't let you get me down
 I'll keep gettin' up when I hit the ground
 Oh, never give up, no, never give up no, no, oh
 I won't let you get me down

“Pink Pony Club.” Chappell Roan. Every word a paeon to following your dreams. 

“Femininomenon.” Be an active participant in your own life: “Did you hear me? Play the fucking beat!”

 

“How Far I’ll Go.” Moana soundtrack. If you can’t stop thinking about it, you need to work on getting it. “The line where the sky meets the sea, it calls me. . . One day I’ll know how far I’ll go.” 

“Go the Distance.” Hercules soundtrack. Trust the process. 

 I am on my way
 I can go the distance
 I don't care how far
 Somehow I'll be strong
 I know every mile
 Will be worth my while

“Bridge Over Troubled Water.” Simon and Garfunkel. This stanza was meant for me, I think. 

 Sail on silvergirl,
 Sail on by.
 Your time has come to shine.
 All your dreams are on their way.

 

“How Bad Do You Want Me.” Lady Gaga. When the finish line taunts you: “A psychotic love theme/ How bad do you want me?”

 

 

“Give Me Everything.” Pit Bull and Co. You only get one life. 

 Give me everything tonight
 For all we know we might not get tomorrow
 Let's do it tonight

 

“Bright Lights Bigger City.” Ceelo Green. Live in the realm of possibility. 

 Yeah I'm lookin' for some action
 And it's out there somewhere
 You can feel the electricity
 All in the evening air. . .

I 'm just gonna let something brand new happen to me

 

 

“Heaven is a Place on Earth.” Belinda Carlisle. The you-only-get-one-life theme continues.  

  In this world we're just beginning
 To understand the miracle of living
 Baby I was afraid before
 But I'm not afraid anymore

 

“Africa.” Toto. I just love this song. Always have. Brings me back to a particular time and place when the possibilities were endless, a reminder to be open to what’s out there. 

 

“Roll Me Away.” Bob Seger. Keep trying. 

 I'm gonna roll me away tonight
 Gotta keep rollin', gotta keep ridin'
 Keep searchin' 'til I find what's right
 And as the sunset faded I spoke to the faintest first starlight
 And I said next time
 Next time
 We'll get it right

 

 

“Like a Rock.” An older runner now, but still plugging away. 

Oh, like a rock, the sun upon my skin
Like a rock, hard against the wind
Like a rock, I see myself again
Like a rock
Oh, like a rock

 

“Faithful.” Go West. Positive self-talk. 

 You can lean on me
 Though we sail on stormy seas
 Nothing good comes easily
 But I, I won't let you down..

 

 

“Kings and Queens.” Ava Max. Be your own hero. 

  No damsel in distress, don't need to save me
  Once I start breathing fire, you can't tame me
  And you might think I'm weak without a sword
  But I'm stronger than I ever was before

 

“The Good Part.” AJR. I really like the music. The good parts are everywhere. 

 

“More Than a Feeling.” Boston. The endorphin high is so much more than a feeling. 

 It's more than a feeling
 (More than a feeling)
 When I hear that old song they used to play
 (More than a feeling)
 I begin dreaming
 (More than a feeling)

 

“Foreplay/ Long Time.” If you really want something but are holding back because of the time it will take, well the time is going to pass anyhow. “Time doesn't wait for me
It keeps on rollin'.”

 

“Don’t Look Back.” You’re not going that way, so what’s the point? “I don't mind/ where I get taken/The road is callin'/today is the day.”

 

 

“Lazy Eye”  Silversun Pickups. This, each race: “I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life.”

 

“Go All the Way.” Raspberries. The whole song. To the finish line. 

“Right Here, Right Now." Jesus Jones. Stay in the moment. 

 Right here, right now, 

 there is no other place I wanna be
 Right here, right now, 

 watching the world wake up from history

 

 

“I Go to Extremes.” Billy Joel. Yes. Running 26.2 miles is extreme. But I know folks who do even more. 

 Call me a joker, call me a fool
 Right at this moment, I'm totally cool
 Clear as a crystal, sharp as a knife
 I feel like I'm in the prime of my life

 

 

“Back in the Highlife Again.” Steve Winwood. It ain’t over until it’s over. 

 But when you're born to run it's so hard to just slow down
 So don't be surprised to see me back in that bright part of town

 I'll be back in the high life again
 All the doors I closed one time will open up again
 I'll be back in the high life again
 All the eyes that watched me once will smile and take me in

 

“No Tears Left to Cry.” Ariana Grande. Tough song, honoring sadness but saying it’s time to live. 

 Right now I’m in a state of mind 

 I want to be in like all the time. 

 Ain’t got no tears left to cry. . .

 I’m lovin’ I’m livin’ I’m picking it up.”

 

“Can’t You Say You Believe in Me.” Boston. A reminder to myself. “Can’t you say you believe in me? You know that where there's a will, there's a way.”

 

“Little Fighter.” White Lion Yes, I know what this song is about. But when I run to it, I’m the little fighter, all 5’1” of me. 

 Rise again, little fighter
 And let the world know the reason why
 Shine again, little fighter
 And don't let 'em end the things you do

 

“Coming Home.” Cinderella. “Home” is the finish line. 

 So are you tough enough for my love 
 Just close your eyes to the heavens above
 I'm comin home, I'm comin home

 

“The Subway.” Chappell Roan. I just love this song: “She’s got a way/ She got away.” Genius. 

“Run.” BTS. Been listening to this song since I met two wonderful young women at the Sydney Marathon race expo who convinced me that I needed to run to it.  The song itself is just okay, IMO. But the memory of meeting so many good folks in Australia, including those young women, and finishing that amazing marathon? It’s a reminder that I can do more than I ever even imagined. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

Sydney Marathon: Finally part 3, the race

Been putting off writing about the Sydney Marathon for lots of reasons.  Jet lag was number one. Lived in a fog for about a week after returning home and am only now, ten days later,  returning to being a fully functioning human. Number two? I don’t know how to start writing about it. 

Sometimes knowing what to write about a race comes easily. That’s not the case here.  Everything is all mushed up. But I want to write about the Sydney Marathon before I forget. For better or worse, here goes. 

Let’s start with the expo. We’d had a long day already by the time we arrived in Sydney, starting with an early morning wake up in Adelaide, then all the craziness connected with getting to the airport, hurrying up, waiting, then flying to Sydney. By the time we arrived at our hotel, it was late afternoon. Our hotel rooms weren’t ready so we couldn’t wash up or nap. Instead, a half-dozen of us grabbed a taxi-van to the expo a mile or so away. 

A great expo. Lots of crowds, vendors. We did the requisite picture-taking then split up. I headed to the merch area to spend money I don’t have. In line to pay – a half-hour long wait, got the first inkling that Sydney would be special. Was talking with the two young women behind me. Their excitement was catchy. The time flew. Both from the Philippines, Yanna was running her second marathon and Maureen – yup, name twin and I were fated to meet, was there as her support. While I don’t recall the gritty details of the conversation, I know it involved talking about the race – it was going to be Yanna’s second marathon, the origins of our first names, running music, and that glue that bound us all together – shopping. 

While Yanna and I compared and discussed our stashes, Maureen – our personal shopper -- ran around the expo picking up more items sizes, colors for each of us. This was very silly and fun and involved random bystanders who also made suggestions and brought us items. My two new friends also told everyone in sight how many marathons I had done which resulted in complete strangers coming up and congratulating me. As a super slow runner just trying to beat the cutoffs, I felt uncomfortable with all the attention – definitely struggling with imposter syndrome,  but also it really boosted my ego.

Those women made my day and really brought home to me how lucky I was to be so far away and yet feel so at home. Because of them, I spent way more than I should have. Also, BTS, the South Korean boy band, is now on my running playlist. 

The morning before the race, I met for coffee with the daughter of a college friend who I haven’t seen in decades but am connected with via facebook. How crazy is that? The daughter, much faster than I could ever hope to be, was also running Sydney. Just shaking my head at it all. Awed, how I was able to travel thousands of miles and lucky enough to have this wonderful moment with yet another great human. 

After we parted, I climbed the Sydney Harbour Bridge. I need to sit with that sentence for a while. How the heck did that happen? How did I become this person who travels all over the place, meets cool new people, climbs to the tippity top of bridges, and blithely runs marathons? 

Now on to race day. 

Started early. Wake up: 4:45. In hotel lobby by 5:30. I’ve now done tons of marathons where I’ve had to wake up much earlier to get to starting lines that take off at ridiculous pre-dawn times. I’m that person who spent most of my life sleeping in. Now I'm not. Go figure. 

Wearing my pre-race garbage bag to protect me from the morning chill, walked with a friend the five minutes to the Metro – a wonderland of cleanliness and modern tech, and with tons of other athletes rode over the Sydney Harbor Bridge to the drop off point two stops away. From there we hiked a steep hill to our starting area, which we found out was not yet open. So, my friend and I  found a patch of cement behind a store and sat in the dark and cold and shivered for an hour. Here’s where being short is a plus. I can tuck my entire body into a standard size trash bag. I  stayed reasonably warm, despite the cold temps. 

Once our starting section opened, masses of us piled in and, seemingly as one, headed to the port-a-potty lines. For the next hour, that’s where we stood. I’m not complaining. After sitting on cold cement, it was a nice change to stretch the legs, chat with fellow athletes as the sun rose. I met runners from New Zealand, Tasmania, Germany, other parts of the US. For me, this is part of the fun. 

Then joined up with about a half dozen friends from my tour group. We shuffled through the crowd and, with marathons being magic and all, of course found other friends from previous races. That’s just how these things work now. I have friends all over the world. I continue to be astounded at how lucky I am. 

We stood around for what felt like days – about 45 minutes or so. 

Once over the starting line, we headed steeply downhill and within a mile or so crossed over the Sydney Harbor Bridge and into the heart of the city. That’s another sentence I never in a million years thought that I would ever write. The first water stop wasn’t until after the 5k mark. Given that the run until then was primarily on highway-type road with limited accessibility, this made sense. We all were aware of water stop locations ahead of time. They were plainly laid out in the pre-race documents. 

We wound around the city streets near the bridge, then gradually headed away from the harbor. There were hills. Lots of them. Like many others, I walked the uphills and ran the downhills. I don’t remember much crowd support, but I was in my own world anyhow, enjoying the city sights one step at a time. Exchanged thumbs-up with a few friends, inwardly cursed at a few folks who think blocking the route by running three or four across is acceptable.  

The water stops were copious and well-stocked. The volunteers knew what they were doing and cheered us on like we were the most important people on earth. 

Around mile six or so, the crowds picked up. The bells of St. Mary’s Cathedral were clanging and the speedy athletes who started an hour before us were on their way home. We sexy-pace folks were headed uphill for the next several miles,  while they were headed downhill. Truly felt out of body at that point. It was so surreal and beautiful, celebratory. 

We had more hills and a bunch of loops where I got to see more friends from previous races. It’s an amazing feeling – and I know my words right now are clumsy – to be so far from home, plodding on these foreign roads and see a friend from races years back coming the other way,  and then both of you stop what you’re doing, hug, chat a bit and then you each continue on your way. Unreal. This happened at least three more times with several more people. 

The one part of the race that I wasn’t looking forward to was an innocuous, several-mile long loopy area through a park. I see these sections on course maps and my brain says ‘doldrums,’ as in stagnation and boredom, and I picture running in place. 

Again, I don’t know who the heck I am anymore because I got to this section of the race, which was at about mile 16? 18? when any normal person would want to give up, and for some reason I got energized. ‘Energized’ here does not mean I accelerated to six-minute miles. It means that I stopped taking super long walk breaks and picked up my running pace a little and couldn’t stop smiling. 

Nearest reason I can give for this switch-up is all the loop marathons I did in the months leading up to Sydney. My mindset shifted on these courses from wanting to hurry up and finish to wanting to enjoy each moment. And that’s what I found myself doing on the park part of the race that many later described as the mentally toughest section for them. 

I didn’t struggle one bit. What kept running through my head: “You are never going to be in this exact place at this exact moment ever again. Savor it.” And I did. I focused on the flowers, the trees, the few folks cheering us on, the other runners. 

At one point I stopped to walk for a bit with a young woman.

“I really like your glasses,” I said, as I jogged past her. The frames were rainbow-hued and just looking at them made me smile. She caught up with me and we ran-walked together for a while. She lives in a town a few miles outside of Sydney and was running her first marathon. She was feeling relaxed but her mom, who she was texting with during the race, was stressed. I don’t remember much else about the conversation, and I had to leave her after a bit, but I told her she looked great, and I had the experience under my belt to know what I was talking about. 

I loved that section of the course.

I remembered that runner, Alison -- who by the way finished shortly after I did, and others as I made my way back down past St. Mary’s – the bells now silent, and yelled out congratulations to the bemedaled, speedy athletes walking home. Pretty powerful confidence booster when they respond with, “Well done!!” and congratulate you too, even though they’re much younger, faster, leaner and you still have a few miles left to go. 

The cruelest part of the course, and I write that with a smile on my face because I did enjoy it even while recognizing that it was awful, was the last couple of kilometers before the final 1K. 

We veered off the road and onto a peninsula with ridiculously steep, knee-breaking downhills and equally evil uphills. 

This park was simply gorgeous: flowers, harbor views, and the best of humanity - athletes giving their all. I was in heaven. No aches and no pains. Triple-energized. I know many people hated this section. I loved it. 

Then a measly 1K left, we turned onto the main drag taking us downhill to the finish. In the distance was the harbor bridge, the Opera House. The beauty of that last section leaves me tongue-tied. Fans lined three or four deep and lo and behold someone was calling my name. How insane is that?  It was a friend I’d met on another continent at another marathon a year ago. He’d finished and was walking back to his hotel and among the thousands out there, he saw me.  

You know those times in life when you just know you’re exactly where you are supposed to be? Yeah. That was one of those moments. In fact, I think the whole race was a series of moments like that. The entire trip even. 

As I approached the finish line I didn’t want to stop. Seriously.  I wanted to live in that feeling forever. 

At the end I was tired, but I had no aches. No pains. The months after Tokyo, my mantra was “Trust the process.” I did and I’m grateful. 

Sydney Marathon Part Two: Some background/ whining

  

Sydney Marathon 2025 started in 2024 for all of us. Signing up a year or so in advance for some events, especially the Marathon Majors races, is standard operating procedure. I don’t recall exactly when I signed up. Early September last year maybe? Not sure why I signed up either. Best guess is I was probably on an endorphin high from a recent workout. Or maybe I’d just downed a glass of wine and was reading some runner’s story about crushing their latest marathon goals and thought, “Hey! I want that!”  What I’m saying is, reality was not exactly on my mind when I signed up. There were likely delusions of grandeur involved, too. 

These delusions that I can do more than I think I can?  Ongoing. Proof: Already have the next bunch of races lined up. 

So back to Sydney stuff. It’s a half year after sign-up and a few weeks after I walked the London Marathon when, after passing all the stress tests and going off the low blood pressure meds, my primary care doc sort of gave me permission to train for Sydney though she was not thrilled that I still planned on doing it. 

“Don’t over-exert yourself,” she said, and reminded me to keep that cardiology appointment in July that had been set up months earlier, weeks after I passed out. 

Naturally, I interpreted her words like this: “Try not to run too much. Walk indoors on the treadmill, just to be on the safe side. That way if you pass out someone will be there to call 911. Good luck. I’m cheering for you.” Wow. I’m going to have to google that sometime, the psychological term for that next-level type of warped thinking. 

The doc did not mention the word ‘treadmill,’ not even once. But for whatever reason, that’s where my mind went when she told me to avoid exertion. Weird, I know. 

Like most cats and all human beings who are not psychopaths, I hate treadmills. I hate them almost as much as I hate ellipticals. They’re boring. But both types of machines are at my gym along with people who can dial 911 if I pass out. So, that’s the thinking I guess, yup deeply flawed, behind the training plan I developed: Treadmill walk/run one day, elliptical the next. Then I added in some spice – how about a  marathon or two every couple of weeks? 

Stupid? Maybe. Okay, probably. But effective. And in my head, relatively safe. The marathons I scheduled were mostly risk-free.  They weren’t tight time-limited, point-to-point courses through strange, empty landscapes or blighted metropolises. These were multi-day, multi-loop no-runner-left-behind events at friendly, park-like trails. Also, I knew what I was getting into: I had the pleasure of being part of dozens of these particular races over the last several years.  I knew for a fact that there was always someone nearby. I knew and trusted the race directors and also was acquainted with most of the athletes. If I started developing any weird symptoms, I could easily slow down, stop and rest for a while,  or quit. In my head, my training plan was only slightly stupid. 

Over the next three months, I dreadmilled and ellipted myself to insanity, and ran/walked seven marathons and one half marathon. I played it super safe, relatively speaking.  I’d show up at these seven- or eight-day series for a day, two max,  run a little, walk a lot, chat with other participants with aspirations beyond my understanding – many were racing every single day and another time I’ll probably write about how insanely awesome these athletes are, space out to my music, then drive to the next race or head home.

Confess that I totally felt like an imposter, doing my laid-back walk/run thing for a lousy day or two while surrounded by so many superhumans who were sweating the limits of human endurance for a week or more at a time.  But I’m glad I got to be there. I got to share air space with some of the best athletes on the planet – inspiring beyond belief – got stronger, and most importantly gained back some of the confidence that got obliterated at Tokyo. 

Mid-July, the cardiologist I’d been waiting to see since I passed out five months earlier looked over all my testing and gave me the official okay to return to running. At that moment, felt a dump truck of stress lift from my shoulders. He didn’t go so far as to blame my blood pressure meds for my issues, but he did tell me my blood pressure is fine, and I should not be taking meds. 

He also ordered one more test, a CT scan to check for blood vessel blockages. I’m beyond grateful for this. My dad had severe arterial blockages when he was my age and almost died as a result. My mother and some of her siblings had heart issues too. Given my parents’ medical history, and the fact that I’m pushing the limits when it comes to family athletic endeavors, testing more than makes sense. 

The doc asked for the Sydney Marathon date and noted to schedule the test before I left for Sydney, if possible.  He told me to not worry if I didn’t get the test until after the marathon because chances are good that I’m fine. Well, those weren’t his exact words but that’s the gist and I’m dead serious about that. 

One month later, I was on the plane to Australia, more than grateful for all that training time at the gym and on the trails. Sure, it’s not ideal having just five weeks, between the doc’s okay to run and marathon day, to actually run, rather than walk, some miles, especially when you’ve been told for half a year before that to take it easy. But given that Sydney has a generous cutoff time and given all my walking with bits of running sprinkled in, I was pretty confident I’d be okay. 

Glad I didn’t do what my primary care doc originally suggested: put my life on hold until after the cardiology appointment.  That would have made for a super stressful race day. 

It’s been two weeks since the Sydney Marathon, and almost six weeks since the CT scan was ordered.  I’m still waiting for it to be scheduled.  It took a month for insurance to approve the procedure, and the testing place still hasn’t received the paperwork, so can’t fit me in just yet.Yes, since returning from Australia I’ve been calling the doc’s office every day to remind them to get that info forwarded pronto. I’m also back at the gym. I’m nothing if not persistent. Truly. 

Next up: A post about the actual race because this writing around it is getting old and Sydney was freaking amazing. 

More later. Gotta run. 

 

 

 

 

 

Forward is a pace: Marathon 98, Sydney, Australia, pt 1

Been home for a week and finally feel back to somewhat normal. Twenty-nine hours total, waiting in airports, flying on planes, and crossing fifteen time zones takes a toll. Some U.S. runners at the Sydney Marathon arrived just a day or two before the race, then left shortly after. I’m sure most finished much faster than I did. I marvel at how their bodies and brains coped. Oh, to be young and/ or nuts. 

Sitting down now to write this, not because of some pressing urge to talk about the marathon, but rather because the further away I get from the day the less I remember. And then there’s the fact that it’s not just the marathon I want to write about, because the marathon was only a tiny part of a much larger experience that encompassed three weeks total of eating everything in sight, drinking too much wine, hiking, exploring, swimming, snorkeling, and in general just being – as in truly being in the moment – in a country that left me wanting so much more for myself and the world around me. 

That reminds me of another similarly blissful time. Years back, I’m talking 95 marathons ago, so ancient history, my younger daughter and I hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and stayed for a few days. It was mid-July with temps breaking 100. We spent most of our time there coping with the heat by sitting in a creek in our shorts and T-shirts, cool water rushing over our thighs and bellies, tiny fishes pooling around us. Surrounding us, the cool green colors of cottonwood, willows, mesquite, desert grasses, punctuated by the red orange rocks that kept us close. Above, turquoise sky. Nothing else but the sounds of nature.

I remember pulling a Tony Hillerman book, The First Eagle, from the camp bookcase. Finished that story the first day, then devoured it all over again on day two. Since then, I’ve read every one of his books at least twice. First randomly, then the second time in publishing date order with the AAA Navajo Nation map nearby for quick referencing. Not sure what my daughter chose to read, but she was similarly engaged with her own literary finds. 

When our time was up and home duties beckoned, I recall feeling a profound sense of loss, like every step forward was taking me further from home. In the canyon, everything felt right. Life was exactly how it was supposed to be down there. 

Australia felt sort of like that. 

The trip was an escape from reality, for sure. 

The marathon? Not so much. And that was a good thing. That was the best thing. Because while life here in the U.S. right now is fraught with stress and anxiety, at least I've got this concrete stupendousness to remind me that forward motion matters: I ran – well in truth ran-walked -  a marathon in Australia!!!!! Wow!!!

Forward is a pace. More later. I need a nap. 

Drama at the not okay motel

 

Time: 7 AM, day 2 of 3, road-tripping.  

Place: Basic chain motel right off the NY Thruway.  

Been stopping here for at least ten years. After each visit, I resolve to stay somewhere else next trip, then promptly forget. The price is reasonable, especially if you have pets, which I do. The convenience is exceptional. Minutes off the highway. Easy on and off. 

But the place is going downhill. It’s clean, but old and worn out.   The walls are thin, so getting a good night’s sleep isn’t always guaranteed, and the room is always short something. Last visit, the wastebasket was missing. This visit there was no hand soap (I used the shower gel).  

After today's little bit of excitement, I think I'll remember to stay away from this place next road trip.  

It started with a cat, as most of my road trip misadventures usually do. First thing this morning, I’m prepping for our drive today. It’s a long one. At least eight hours. I managed to get two of the cats in their carriers, pretty quickly too. The third was another story. Patrick was being obstinate, ignoring my begging, pleading, yelling. Then, in classic cat being a cat fashion, he slinked, slanked, slunked? under the bed. 

The clock is ticking as the other two kitties, siblings Alexis and David Rose, wait patiently for our little orange buddy to get his act together, which he doesn’t. After a twenty-minute workout during which I bruised my knees and strained my back, I head to the office to ask for help. On the way, I see a pickup idling in the lot. 

The driver wears a day glo yellow top and a safety vest. I’m thinking maybe he’s an employee of the property and is there to fix up the parking lot, which absolutely needs it. I’m thinking maybe no one at the front desk will be able to help me because they’re busy with checkouts and I better try to handle this myself. I approach the driver and hold up a bill, asking him if he’d like to make a quick couple of bucks and help me get my cat into his carrier.

Now, I’m right next to his truck window and see he's probably a guest, like me. There's a woman in the passenger seat. My age, but a little worse for wear -- thin face, yellowed skin, peroxide blonde shag. Her teeth aren't quite right. She's wearing dentures that are too big for her mouth. She’s smoking a cigarette. “I’d help you, but I’m allergic to cats.”

The guy is also my age, a little stocky, graying, bearded, red faced. His eyes are narrowed, face expressionless, staring at something in the distance. 

“I have a kid who can help you. He’s a loser. A crack head. He’ll be right down.” He nods and I look where he’s looking. On the second-floor balcony of the motel, a young man is sauntering/ walking/ taking his time moving. 

I don’t know what to say. I’m trying to figure out what the driver means. Looks like a normal person. Walking like a normal person.  What’s this guy up to? Bragging about his kid in some weird, unsettling way? Maybe the kid is some sort of genius? Is what he’s saying some sort of inside joke with the wife or girlfriend, whoever she is? 

The kid approaches the truck, and the yelling starts.  “Don’t you fucking ever wake me up like that again or I’ll fucking kill you. I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you.” He’s addressing dad. 

He's college age, maybe mid-twenties. Six feet tallish. Solid muscle, 220-240. Think refrigerator. Linebacker. He IS the brute squad. He’s yelling the same thing over and over: “Don’t fucking wake me like that ever again or I’ll fucking kill you.” Fists clenched, arms stiff at his side. Giving his father the same dead-eyed look the guy is giving him. 

The father of the year gives it right back, calling the kid a loser, a crack head. He repeats this many times and then says what I don’t want to hear: go help with the cat. 

The kid is, quite obviously, going nuclear. And I’m standing there wondering who’s going to die first. And what’s wrong with this kid? It’s obvious there’s something wrong with him. Is it drugs though? My mind goes:

This kid is enraged. And there’s something more.  Gotta be neurodivergence, probably never recognized/ celebrated/ explored.  You can see it in his body language and hear it in his words.  

This father likes tormenting his kid. 

This kid deserved better. Even now as a grown-up he deserves better. 

This father has done unspeakable things. I just know it.    

This mother (I've decided she's the mother) she’s done terrible things too, like sitting by and doing nothing while her kid is viciously verbally attacked. 

I’ve had this kid in school. In my head I name names. I see faces.  

Then I realize I’m feet away from the whole scene and I leave – no one notices -- and race to the office where the desk kid – yes, kid – can’t be more than 18 if that, does nothing.  We can both hear the yelling. He’s acting like this is normal. I ask him if he’s going to call the police. He looks at me like I’m nuts. 

He gets a broom and accompanies me back to the room. He starts walking toward the yelling, but I insist we avoid them and take the long way around. He pushes the broom under the bed and Patrick runs out the other side. I scoop up Patrick and deposit him in his carrier. The whole thing takes less than a minute. 

I finish loading the car. A few rooms away, the father and son are still going at it. The guest next door to me steps outside onto the crumbling cement landing and lights a cigarette. She glances briefly in the direction of the yelling, then turns away, stares off into space,  and takes a few more drags of the butt. Next room down, another guest comes out. He looks neither left nor right. He loads his car, reverses fast,  and leaves. 

Meanwhile I pack the three carriers and arrange them carefully. Once I turn the car toward the exit, I gun it past the pickup, still idling, the son still raging, the dad in the driver's seat still egging him on. 

Six hundred miles, three cups of coffee and a whole bunch of adrenaline rushes later, I’m writing this and thinking about lots of things but mainly these:  

1. Should I have called the police? And the other side of that question -- Why was I the only witness disturbed enough by this to want to call the police? 

2. Why didn’t I write this down/dictate all this to myself earlier? The words I wanted to write were so fluid in my head this morning. The phrasing luminous. The connections deep and oh so important. (Joking of course.) But now I’m too tired.  The words have dried up. I can’t think.  Maybe that’s a good thing. Ugh. 

3. One of these days, that kid is going to kill someone.