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Providence Marathon #81

When the Fleet Feet Kool Kids started signing up for the Providence Marathon, I was hesitant. My last experience with this race in 2014 was less than ideal—I tried to BQ and crashed hard at mile 16. It was a mess: tears, disappointment, and Kim dragging me through a walk/run to the finish. Reliving that failure wasn’t exactly appealing.

Despite my reservations, I registered. In the back of my mind, I half-expected COVID to cancel the race, sparing me from facing those demons. But as the days drew closer, the race was still on, and reality hit—oh crap, I actually have to do this! Mentally, I felt unprepared and knew my training hadn’t been 100%.


Jeanne Corey Marchand, Providence Marathon, 2021 - Jeanne Runs

Pre-Race

As race week approached, I obsessively checked the weather. The 10-day forecast predicted warmer temperatures by the time we’d finish, but I clung to hope it wouldn’t get too hot.

It felt surreal arriving in Providence—it was our first hotel stay in over a year. Checking in with masks and hand sanitizer everywhere was a reminder that COVID still lingered. We picked up our bibs, jackets, and beanies (great swag!) and went searching for lunch, eventually finding a brewery. Sitting down for fries felt like rediscovering a long-lost love.

That evening, we joined Colleen and her family for dinner at Constantino’s, a fantastic Italian spot downtown. The bustling streets and lively atmosphere made it feel like the pandemic was just a bad dream.

Marathon Day

The morning started with our usual pre-race routine before meeting up with the Fleet Feet Kool Kids for a photo. Colleen’s husband, Rich, took charge of the picture-taking, cracking us all up with his off-color humor. Then Adrian arrived late, prompting another round of photos and laughter.

The nervous energy in the corrals was palpable. The mayor gave a heartfelt speech, calling this race a step toward normalcy, and the national anthem brought tears to my eyes. This wasn’t just a race; it was a return to something I’d missed dearly.

The Race

The waves started, and soon we were off. The chilly air made for a comfortable start, though my throwaway shirt didn’t last long. Around mile 3, a fellow runner let one rip, and Kim immediately blamed me. When the guy behind us apologized, we couldn’t stop laughing for a mile.

By mile 6, I started noticing my back and neck were stiff, but I kept quiet, hoping it would pass. The first series of hills around mile 10 were reminiscent of Boston—short, steep climbs that just kept coming. I powered through by counting steps, but Kaitlyn zipped past us like a gazelle, waiting with a smile at the top. She’s the best.

The rising temperatures hit hard as we approached mile 14. The memory of my 2014 meltdown flooded back when we reached the golf course area, but I refused to let history repeat itself. The sun was relentless, and nausea set in. Kim kept forcing me to eat, but my beloved Honey Stingers tasted awful. I powered through with walk/run intervals, leaning on Kim’s encouragement and the unspoken camaraderie of fellow struggling runners.

The Final Stretch

By mile 25, we regrouped with a fellow Kool Kid who’d been walking for miles. Together, we tackled the course's final cruel twist—a hill at mile 26.1. Kim urged me on, but I slowed near the top, only to find the last bit of energy when a friend pulled alongside me. There was no way I was letting him beat me!

With every ounce of strength, I sprinted over the crest, turned the corner, and spotted Kim waiting with his hand out. We crossed the finish line hand-in-hand, the announcer hyping the moment as the crowd cheered. It was epic—until I stopped and started dry-heaving.

Post-Race

There was no medical team in sight, just COVID protocols reminding me to mask up and move along. I composed myself, grabbed my medal, and rejoined the Kool Kids. Despite the heat and the struggles, we’d all finished, lifting each other up when it mattered most.

Reflections

This group is more than running friends—they’re family. Running Providence reminded me why I love marathons, even when they’re hard. Would I run this race again? Absolutely. Next year, I’m going back to mile 18, and I’m going to scream, “F-you, mile 18! You’ll never take me down again!”

Finish time: 4:03 (BQ with a 30-minute cushion, because I’m old—but still a pretty freaking fast motherf***er).


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