The Secrets to Our Success!

14 days from now Becky and I will have run a marathon. That's very strange to think about, and I'm really trying to focus on the feeling of accomplishment and the bragging rights I'll have for the rest of my life, rather than the process of running 26 miles. We both know that we'll be able to get through it, despite maybe not being the most prepared people to ever run a marathon. But at least we're not as unprepared as this guy:

At this point we've survived our longest training run and are tapering; the long run this week was only 12 miles! For me, that means I'll spend the next two weeks freaking out about the fact that there will be three whole weeks between my longest run and the marathon. How does that make sense?? So in an attempt to not think about scary things like that, it's time to start figuring out the logistics of our marathon experience: things like how to instruct our mother to see us without getting lost in the crowd of a million people (literally), what I'm going to wear, and how Becky and I are going to affix things to the body parts we've sold as part of our fundraising for Special Olympics. So for those of you wondering what goes into preparing for race day, here's a photo list of the necessities -- if you're Becky and me.

1. Hand-held water bottle contraption. Guaranteed to make you look 100% more like a pretentious runner. Also guaranteed to give you a strange hand tan line when you wear it for 4 hours in the sun. But on long runs it's actually useful. And note the reflectors on the side, so that nobody will run into your hand when you're on a long run in the middle of the night.

2. Finnish running shorts. I spent a semester in Finland and will pretty much use any excuse I can get to pretend I'm Finnish. The bonus is that they're actually really great shorts. Which makes sense because Finland doesn't mess around when it comes to running. Or anything else. But I probably would have bought them either way. Fun fact: "karhu" means bear.

3. Classy sassy Special Olympics hats. Which are clearly not very effective in shielding the sun. I don't wear a hat when I run and won't actually be wearing this on race day, but Becky might. Plus this picture is just too cute not to share with the world.

4.  Confirmation that I am in fact one of the slowest runners registered. Because of the size of the race there are two start waves and corrals labeled A-M, according to your predicted finish time. As you see, I am in corral L. The second slowest.  I believe Becky has the honor of being in corral M, and I'll probably join her there so that we start together. This means that although the start time is 8:00 AM we'll probably cross the start line some time around 8:30, because we're so far back. It just seems like a cruel joke, because it's already going to take us a really long time to run it, AND we're the last to start! So we'll probably be arriving at the post-race party right as it's finishing.

5. Peanut Butter. Duh. I've eaten peanut butter on a bagel before every race I've ever run, and I've never died, or even passed out. So that can't just be a coincidence. Plus I'm a very routine-oriented person, so this is probably just as mentally helpful as nutritionally helpful. And peanut butter is delish.

6. Sweet Tats. Becky and I have sold our body parts to raise money, and now we have the challenge of figuring out how to make things stay on our faces for 26 sweaty miles. One kind donor bought our cheeks and requested that we put guitars on them in honor of David's friendship with her guitar-playing son. While we're planning on using sharpies to write or draw most things, guitars are a little tricky. So I bravely set out for a party supply store and spent about 45 minutes tracking down the best guitar temporary tattoos. $1.19 later, this is what I came up with. 

*side note: we still have a couple body parts left for sale, so if anyone wants to buy our arms and have us put flaming skulls on them we're all stocked up. Here's the website for our donation page

7. If you're Becky, you need about 800 other things to get through a run. She practiced on our 20 mile run. There are pretzels, because 5 hours is a long time to go without a little snack. Then there's her phone so that she can take important business calls. Car keys in case she decides to just drive instead of running. Various energy goos and gels and blocks, because it's the only way to get through a long run. Seriously, before these were invented people didn't run more than 5 miles. Headphones that will probably only work in one ear and totally break 20 minutes in. Gatorade prime, because water just isn't good enough for this champion. A wallet in case she wants to buy ice cream at Oak Street beach. Classy sassy Special Olympics hat (see #3). An excited and optimistic expression, to show that she enjoys waking up at 5:00AM to run to McCormick Place and back. And finally, a belt to put all these things in and to make her look like a "serious runner." Except for the saying, which reads "WTF! Where's the finish." Serious runner indeed.

And that's about it; our secret formula for a successful race day is no longer a secret. It's the least we can do to thank you all for the support you've given us; as much as we joke about it this is a big deal for us, and having people support us in our insanity is awesome. And amidst all the craziness  we're trying to keep perspective; running 26 miles is one day of our lives, but the impact Special Olympics has on people's lives is ongoing and we're so honored that they let us be a part of it. We'll check back in as the day gets closer, and let you know how you can watch the marathon or even keep track of us as we run (hint: you know the vehicle that follows the last runner? We'll be not too far in front of that.).