The race is run.

And it’s done.

My preparation for the 2012 Olympic Trials began long before the event was even a blip in the minds of the race organizers. From the first time that Carmen Troncoso planted the idea in my head back in 2006, fresh out of college and still not really sure what a long run was, becoming an Olympic Marathon Trials qualifier was something that was always in the back of my mind. Sometimes it was so far back that even I couldn’t find it – like in 2007, when I was completely sidelined with injury, and 2008, when I was living and traveling in SE Asia, competitive running a distant memory. But it was always there.

When I returned to Austin in 2009, I was ready to run again. I went back to Carmen, began working at Rogue and ran a solid half marathon that fall. The marathon trials idea began to resurface, and came glaringly into view with the formation of Team Rogue Elite and Steve’s willingness to take a chance on me as a marathoner, despite a fairly lackluster resume. I was welcome as long as I could commit through the 2012 trials, and promise not to take off on some around-the-world trip. I agreed.

I was scheduled to run my first marathon, Grandma’s, in the summer of 2010. I was running more miles than ever before, and nailing every workout. Nailing it too well, apparently. A stress fracture flared up less than a week before my race, forcing me to cancel the trip. Frustrating, but there was plenty of time left.

Fast forward to Houston 2011. THIS time I had it in the bag, despite some ongoing discomforts. All I had to do was run 2:45:59. Not so easy, it turns out, when it’s warm, humid and you make every rookie mistake – not drinking until mile 10, trying to ‘bank’ time on the front end, etc. I clawed my way across the finish line in an excruciating 2:46:46.

A decision had to be made at that point. Did I try to ignore my semi-injuries and use my fitness for attempt #2 that spring, or risk waiting until the fall for another marathon, my last chance?  Self doubt was beginning to creep in. Steve remained confident that I could do it, however, and we decided that I would head to Vancouver four weeks later to give it a shot. As you’ve all heard before, the third time was the charm and I was officially an Olympic Trials qualifier with a 2:44:52.

Eight long months, most of it miserably hot, stretched ahead. The trials were always the focus, but were so far away that it didn’t seem real. I just put in the miles, did whatever workouts Steve threw at me and tried my best to balance it all with work, team obligations and a semblance of “regular” life. Luckily, I was injury-free this entire time.

Suddenly, the holidays happened and I was one week out. I felt good, my workouts were spot-on, the weather forecast was perfect and Ruth was ordering me to come in late to work to allow for extra rest. It was still a busy week – I felt like I was going through the motions of preparation and enjoying a deluge of well-wishes, but it hadn’t actually hit me that this race was going to happen. Soon.

Scott and I drove to Houston on Thursday, and arrived to find that both of us, due to different circumstances, had ended up with our own hotel rooms rather than being placed with a fellow competitor. Score! Having my own room allowed for that much more focus and some much-needed hermit time. The weather was still looking perfect. All of the uncontrollables were shaping up nicely.

Friday was a blur of technical meetings, uniform checks, visiting with our adidas crew, meals and arranging dinner plans with family. Before I knew it, I was setting out my race gear and climbing into bed, the butterflies gathering.

The alarm went off at 5:15 on Saturday, and I immediately felt that inevitable race day dread. I flipped on the tv for distraction, ate my usual pre-race meal, got dressed, wrote splits (every 3 miles) on my arm, packed and re-packed my bag, then headed to the convention center at 6:30.

There was a ballroom reserved for elites and coaches, so I found a place to camp out while I waited  – so much waiting! – on our 7:45 go time. Steve, Jeff and my boyfriend Gabe soon joined – I tried to make a bit of small talk, but really I just wanted to get on with this thing before the nerves got the best of me.

Just before it was time to leave, I went to find my friend Meagan. Meagan was my roommate in Houston last year, an event that we both walked (hobbled) away from in disappointment. We had similar race plans and were determined to work together and take care of unfinished Houston business. Her friend Caitlin was also onboard, so we banded together and followed the escorts downstairs.

More waiting. The women had 30 minutes to do drills and try to stay warm in the corral area while the men headed to the starting line. The time seemed, oddly, to both drag on and fly by. The two minute warning was called, and we all scrambled to remove our warmups and check shoelaces one last time. Suddenly I found myself being swept along to the starting line, where there was little to no wait – almost immediately the gun went off.

The first mile was 6:23, much slower than goal pace but the perfect way to start a marathon. It felt like we were jogging, but luckily Caitlin did a fantastic job of reminding us to keep it under control. The second mile was 6:05, and still felt like jogging. Perfect! We settled in and soon began the first 8 mile loop, hitting 6:07 miles like clockwork.

The weather was beautiful, and the crowds were unreal. Thanks to the short loop course and the prestige of the event, every single inch of the course was packed with cheering, clapping, excitement, Rogues! I heard familiar voices, unfamiliar voices, all sorts of voices, all cheering us on as if we were the leaders. Absolutely amazing.

The water tables – 47 of them! – were set every 3 miles, and my bottles were on table 17. Aside from completely bypassing the first one, I was able to grab every bottle with no issues, drink it all with no stomach problems and more or less execute exactly what we’d planned and practiced so many times in training. Everything was going well.

The first 8 mile loop flew by, as did the second. We ended up with a pack of about eight women. We would rotate leaders, call splits, encourage each other – it was incredible to work together, rather than against each other as is usually the case in racing.

At mile 17 we approached the end of the second loop, with one to go. I knew then that it was going to be a good day, that I was going to feel strong through this entire thing. I hadn’t really looked at a split since mile 15,but didn’t feel the need – I was running purely on effort, and could tell it was right.

Caitlin had fallen back a bit, and I could tell that Meagan was struggling a bit. By mile 20, the group had disbanded as did those ahead of us, and probably behind us as well. Runners began to fall apart, fall behind… pure textbook.

Strangely, it didn’t happen to me. I felt just as strong at 21 as I’d felt at 11, which I couldn’t comprehend but certainly wasn’t going to question! I broke the loop up with checkpoints, my favorite mental trick – the first water station, the second water station, the huge Rogue cheering section at the u-turn, the return to downtown. I continued to pass other runners, and knew that all of those miles and the miserable summer and the consistency and Steve’s crazy race prep workouts were paying off.

By mile 24 I was very, very ready to be done, but far from the point of desperation that I have previously experienced at that point. Those two miles seemed to take hours, but the crowds and the orders to “Go!” from Steve and Jeff carried me through it, and did so in a strong way. Just as I felt the old familiar panic begin to creep up, I saw the Mile 26 marker, recognized the Hilton and realized that I had one corner to turn before heading into the finish. I picked it up, passed the only two runners left between myself and the finish line, crossing it in 2 hours, 40 minutes and 47 seconds, a 4 minute PR.

I was amazingly coherent at the end. I saw Meagan finish just a few moments later, then headed back to the ballroom to gather my things and spend a few crucial minutes with my Trigger Point kit. I found an excited Jeff and Steve and a disappointed Scott, who had an incredibly rough day but finished it anyway, which says more about his toughness than any race time. I was proud of him, but also understood what he was going through and didn’t hang around to make him rehash it.

I then headed back downstairs to  meet family. Once we’d all parted ways and I headed back to my hotel room, it started to sink in – a PR, a negative split, a 45^th place finish after being ranked 131^st and, most importantly, I enjoyed every single moment of it.

The day only got better from there – a Rogue lunch gathering, packed with tons of my favorite people and a couple of my favorite beers, a few hours of rest back in my room with Gabe and old Seinfeld episodes, a late night out with hundreds of friends and fellow competitors, an absolute flood of kind words and congratulatory messages that just kept coming from nearly everyone I know, or knew at some point.

I can’t think of a single thing I would change about January 14, 2012. While it is satisfying to know that my hard work paid off, it’s more satisfying to know that I am surrounded by such incredible, supportive, wonderful people.

Steve and Jeff, for spending countless weekend mornings marking courses, setting up water stations, calling splits and following me as I ran around Austin for three hours at a time.

Ruth, for being so flexible about my work schedule and ordering me to take it easy when I wouldn’t ask for it myself.

Gabe, for putting up with all the 4am alarms, 9pm bedtimes and weekends arranged around my long run/working/napping schedules. Also for not expecting me to share the peanut butter.

My family, for having made long trip after long trip to watch me race, year after year.

My teammates (and others, especially Chris McClung) for jumping in and helping with whatever portions of workouts they could, ensuring that I always had somebody out there with me.

Everyone who had contributed to and supported Team Rogue Elite, both individual donors and our amazing sponsors & supporters: adidas, Pure Austin Fitness, Trigger Point, Fluid, Doug Consiglio (massage guy extraordinaire!), Dr. Noah Moos,  AzulOx Photography,  Sports Performance International, Advanced Rehab, KipRunning Sports Massage. You are all crucial to making this team a reality.

The Rogue community, for the immeasurable amount of support, kind words and inspiration that you (yes, you inspire me!) provide every day.

Every single one of you, in one way or another, played a role in making this race one that I’ll remember forever. Thank you.