What: The BMO Harris Bank Mesa-Phoenix Marathon, aka The Phoenix Marathon, aka The Mesa-PHX Marathon. (There were approx 17 different hashtags associated with this race at various points — a little bit of an identity crisis, I think.) (Not to be confused with the Rock ‘N Roll Arizona race, also held in the Phoenix area.)
Where: Mesa, Arizona, just a few miles outside of Phoenix. Race started in Usery Mountain Regional Park and ended in the Mesa Riverview shopping center.
I will do a traditional race review with all the key information on this race, but in the meantime, here is a compilation of what I was thinking (approximately chronological) during the Phoenix Marathon, where I finally earned my BQ with a finish time of 3:28:56.
This blog is intended up document my running journey. The ups and the downs. I’ve tried to fight the temptation to re-touch the snapshot of my life that I provide here (although I am known to crop and filter my Instagram photos…). So here is a moment of honesty. I am running the Phoenix Marathon in seven days, and I am trying to run a Boston Marathon-qualifying time there. And, this week, I am freaking. the eff. out.
Each December, I like to sit down and write out my goals for the coming year. Last year I set several goals, outlined here. I hit many of them, including my goal to run four marathons in 2016 (I did six), go camping (check!), hike and run trails (I did that a bunch), read Move Your DNA (done), and run a marathon under 3:45 (woohoo!). A few others, not so much.
I believe that “diet” is a bad word. I believe that there’s a lot of evil happening at the hands of the diet industry and their co-conspirators (looking at you, women’s mags). I believe that our society has done a shamefully good job of teaching girls and women that they should always be “trying to lose weight” and should never be happy with their bodies. I believe that men need to speak about women differently. I believe that women need to speak about themselves and each other differently. I believe that girls need to be raised differently — including but not limited to changes to shape of their toys and the appearance of their Disney characters. I hope my kids never go on diets, and I don’t plan to use that word in front of them.
I set this all up to say — I’m going on a diet. A real one. With rules. And Excel charts. It’s not touchy-feely. It’s not “eating by intuition.” It’s actually the opposite of how I’ve been peacefully but unsuccessfully “trying to lose weight” for the past several years. Which is exactly why I chose it.