A funny thing happened on my way back to the United States last weekend. 

See, I was walking back to my hotel from kinner in Santiago and Friday night when I saw this huge sign saying "adidas Maraton Santiago '08 ... Voy Por Mas!, Domingo 6 de abril 2008".  Hmmmm, I thought, I really didn't have anything else to do Sunday morning ...

So last Saturday, I spent 3 hours talking to everyone involved with teh race who all said "no es posible".  (Good thing I didn't understand since I don't speak Spanish.    Well, you can probably guess where this is going ... I finally found the one person who either took pity on me, or just wanted me to stop asking, and he let me in the race, which I later learned had been closed to competitor for months and months.

Last Sunday morning, 4 days after pulling out of the Atacama Crossing, I ran the Santiago Marathon and now I have a nice little metal that says "Finalista, 42 Kilometros, 2008".  It is not nearly as big, heavy, hard earned or wonderful as the medal I had hoped to bring home, but it is a medal nonetheless.

The main difference between a marathon in Chile vs. the US is that in Chile everyone along the race constantly yells "an-i-mal" to you as you pass.  I think they were saying "you look strong as an ox", but it could well have also meant "you smell like a pig".  I really must learn Spanish.

I was wrong.

I honestly believed if I took care of my feet when I began this race I could finish it.  Despite impressions to the contrary, I had trained well and hard.  My quads were a thing of beauty (at least for a very 40-something ish woman), and all the parts of my body that normally squeaked were being quiet (knees, back, IT band).  So I was excited - tape those toes and away we go!  Or at least that's what I thought.  Mentally, I also started with the confidence that comes from having completed every race I've ever started in my 10 year "athletic" career.  The career that began in 1999, 2 years after I gave birth to my daughter, when someone asked when my baby was due.  I headed to the local sports equipment store the moment after I flicked that person the finger.

What I didn't count on was the nausea that must have come from a combination of altitude sickness, dehydration and/or wrong fueling.  As a result, I ran for over 3 days in a dizzy, nauseated, stomach wrenching fog.  It brought back 14 year old memories of twin induced morning sickness except instead of one hour a day, this was unrelenting.  After the 2nd stage of Day Four, I entered the checkpoint and said with absolute certainty "no mas". 

 It was at once the easiest and hardest decision to make.  The hardest because I quit something I started, which is not a family trait.  And unlike when I ran (and completed, I might add) the Gobi March in 2006, I actually told people - LOTS of people - what I was doing.  So I knew I was going to have to explain, justify, apologize and otherwise just take a page from Rosanne Rosanneadanna's book and say "Never Mind" to all the people I had asked to send me emails. 

It was the easiest decision to make because I knew with (almost) 100% certainty that if I had continued on to the next stage - the legondary salt flats - I was going to faint.  And of course, in my cool, rational mind at the time, what that really meant was that I was going to faint, fall on the jagged spears of the salt icicles which would knock me unconscious and slice me to pieces and I would be left to rot until next year when the race designer would be sticking a little pink course marker in my skelatal remains woandering what animal bonues these were and my husband would give up on ever finding me and eventually marry a blond (they're always blond) Olympic Slalom gold medalist who would raise my 3 children as her own and they would laugh at how wife #1 used to send her kids to school with Powerbars and Gatorade when all the other kids got peanut butter and jelly on white bread sandwiches and apple juice and really this is exactly what was gong to happen if I kept running through the salt flats.

No, faced with that alternative, I decided to stop (sounds better than quitting). 

Next blog ... reasons to do this race.

To those fans following Becky Stein, she arrived quite late last night and did not have time to write a blog.  I will ensure she gets one in today after completing the grueling salt flats.  She looks great and is in good spirits.  Best regards, Mary Gadams

Hi, everyone. What a great day 1.  hot but there was always a breeze to make you feel you weren’t alone out there.  The scenery was spectacular, and as always, the volunteers were there to make sure you had what you needed.  Of course, when I came into checkpoint 1 and told the volunteer I was going to go throw up he said, “No problem, I’ll just put your pack here”.  I did wonder how many times do you tell someone you are going to throw up and they nonchalantly say “no problem.”

I had my first mirage yesterday.  I was coming up on a checkmark and from the distance I could see an outhouse next to the tent. What a wonderful luxury I thought to put out a real porta potty for us.  As I got nearer I realized it was actually a grave with a white cross on it.   Mistaking a catholic grave for a porta potty somehow seemed very wrong.  Oops, sorry about that god!

Im feeling strong, although I defiantly carried too much stuff on day one.  My pack got a serious hair cut last night.  Im afraid the good and plenty didn’t make the cut.  They play john Denver in the campsite which is pretty funny  when the song came up Leaving on a Jet Plane it seemed a bit cruel.  A jet plane to someplace with a nice cold lemonade would be great right now.

Kids – thanks so much for all your notes, especially the ones from your classmates.  Indescribable lift in my spirits when I read them.  Happy belated birthday peter and Irene!

One day down, 5 to go, yea!!!

OK, I'm so ready to start this race.  A few things I learned about what worked and didn't work from when I did the Gobi.

o  I looked at the food I bought and cut it in half.  I remember that I brought WAYYYY too much food.  That said, I'm stubbornly bringing heavy, ridicuolous, unnecessary things that mentally will make me feel better.  Like the 2 Red Bulls that I already strategically know I will need on Day 3 and on Day 5.  And don't even TRY to talk talk me out of the Payday candy bars. 

o  After a gazillion triathlons, including 3 Ironmans, the Gobi March and countless trail runs, I am finally admitting that carrying Gu is stupid.  I hate the taste, the texture, the look, the feel, the packaging, the name, the everything about this supposedly incredible athlete food.  So I have never actually eaten one during a race.  But I have always carried it "just in case".  In case what?!  I HATE the stuff.  So I'm feeling very brave that for the first time ever, I will start a race without some packets in my pocket.  This is very liberating for me. 

o  I will not take a 1200 page novel.  For the ultimate multitasker, this is a huge concession.  The idea of spending hours at a campsite just chillin' without doing something productive is difficult to comprehend.  But I am remembering that the novel I carried to the Gobi went unread.  I was too tired to read, and frankly, I realized that talking to a really interesting group of people who I otherwise wouldn't know, was much more enjoyable.

o  I will not let myself get spooked by those UltraAthletes who will finish in 1/2 the time. I'm not even remotely athletically gifted and spending the time required to get in that kind of amazing shape just isn't in my reality.

o  The final thing I did this year was actually let people know what I was doing.  When I did the Gobi, I was no nervous I would flame out the first day, I kept it kind of quiet.  This time, I told everyone.   I'll need their encouragement next week.

For the past two days I've had that stupid song "Leaving on a jet plane" running through my head.  The ones that starts "My bags are packed I'm ready to go....".  I was extremely organized this time and had everything purchased, packed, double checked and sitting at my front door for a few days now.  I'm so happy I did that because last night I could just hang with my kids without being stressed.  (Watch ... I'll get down to Chili and find that I left my shoes at home or something.)

I am so ready for this event to start.  My first tri coach used to say that "race day was the celebration of all you've done to get there."  I've remembered that for ever race I've done.  The training is over, and I did manage to get some good runs and work outs in, so I plan on going down and having fun.

Thanks Peter, Greig, Sommer and Mackenzie ...you guys are the best.

Yes!  I just spent 2 hours on the stairmaster, level 10, reading the blogs from the 2007 race, and I've concluded 4 things:

1.  I'm as well trained as I need to be.

2.  The most important thing you need to finish is luck.

3.  The second most important thing is mental toughness.

4.  The third most important thing is happy feet.  Well, no matter what, they won't be happy, but you need to minimize their miserableness.

I am so, so grateful to those who took the time to document their experiences so we could all learn from them.  Greg Manciagli especially, if I ever meet you, I'm buying you one extra large cocktail! 

A couple of months ago, I did a countdown calendar on my whiteboard at work.  In huge green letter, I counted down the weeks, which served as a motivation to get out and train.  It worked (for the most part).  What I've been too busy to do is focus on the logistics part - like buying what I'll need, packing, making reservations, etc.  So when I looked up today and realized the race is in two weeks, a semi-mild panic set in.  So sorry Yvette, Nicole and Mari (some of my wonderful co-workers) if I suddenly acted like Godzilla-Gone-Mad.

So tomorrow, in between the 5:00 am car pool to son's rowing regatta, 8:00 race, 10:30 daughter swim practice drop off, 10:40 crew race, 11:00 other son's Lacrosse game, 11:10 daughter swim practice pick up, 12:00 car pool home from lacrosse, 1:00 regatta car pool back to boat house to begin cleaning boats, 2:00 take son home from boat house, 3:15 sons basketball tournament, 5:00 son hair cut and 6:00 end of season basketball party ...  I will go shopping.  I sure hope the two dogs bladders hold out as I just don't think I can take them for their necessary walks until 9:00 pm.

Yes, two days in a row.  Pretty good for me.  I spent 2 hours on the treadmill with a 10 lb pack.  It was 20 lbs until I discovered the 10 lb bag of flour I had put in exploded all over the place.  Why did I think it was a good idea to put flour in my backpack?  Oh, right, because the 10 lb dumb bell I used to use gave me a beautiful black and blue oval on my lower back.

So the lady on the machine next to me kept looking over, trying to get the nerve up to ask why I was running on a treadmill with a flour invested backpack.  After I kept laughing out loud at emails I was reading from my friends on my blackberry, she must have decided I was just crazy. She finally left, but not before giving me a very odd look. 

Read 4 more chapters from Harry Potter, Book 2. 

I've done it again.  I've signed up  for a race, painstakingly created a work out schedule that included months of training and once again the document has sat on my desk as a nice little color coded spreadsheet.   At first, I dutifully looked at each each day, then each week, feeling only mildly guilty about what I was not doing.  I figured there was time.

The real problem, as an endurance athlete, is that you get to be a time and distance snob (I used to call it Ironman Arrogance).  If I can't work out for at least 3 hours, or go for a 15 mile run, why bother doing anything at all?   I read fitness magazines that tell you if you just exercise for 20 minutes a day 3 times a week you will have a Body by God.   Yea, right, I think "how cute", who can't do a measly 20 minutes a day?  Well, me at the moment.

So, after reading other's blogs last night, I hit the gym for a good workout today.  3 hours on the elliptical machine, which translated into 2 episodes of Ugly Betty on my ipod and 12 chapters of Harry Potter.  (My daughter recently read all 7 Harry Potter books back to back and insists I do the same, so I've started with Book 1.  I wonder if I have enough treadmill time left to complete the series before Atacama?)  This was the first time at a gym in 10 days, and the first 3 hour work out in 2 months.  Like I said, I'm just a bit behind.

I love, love, love running in these events, it's just so hard to find the time to train.  Life sorta gets in the way.   Does everyone have this problem?