The Wineglass Marathon was a race I had been looking forward to for a long time. Known for its net downhill course, it’s a favorite for those chasing a Boston Qualifying time—just like I was. Kim and I were both excited to give it our all.
Race morning started early, with buses taking us out to the start. We snapped a pre-race photo, bundled in heavy sweatshirts to stay warm, all smiles and full of hope. When the race started, Kim and I hugged and wished each other luck before heading off on our separate races. His qualifying time was much more aggressive than mine, so we knew we’d be running alone.
I stuck with the pacer through the first half of the race and felt strong until around mile 13. Then the weather changed dramatically. The sky opened up, and the heat and humidity hit like a wall. I started to slow down as the conditions became oppressive. Even my pacer eventually pulled off his pace shirt and stopped running—it was that tough out there.
This was the first race where I witnessed so many runners struggling in the heat. I saw people cramp up and even collapse. It was sobering, and I knew I had to switch to a walk/run strategy to make it to the finish.
Kim had a similar experience. Despite the challenging conditions, the medal made it worth it. It was stunning, made of thick blown glass—a true work of art. But I couldn’t help but wonder, “Where’s the wine?” Instead of a celebratory bottle, we were given a small split of champagne and a wine glass.

That evening, we tried to find a place to eat, only to discover the town had turned into a ghost town, with most shops and restaurants closed. It was a bit of a letdown after such an exhausting day.
The next morning, the drive home was unforgettable for entirely different reasons. We faced relentless rain and tornado warnings that made for a terrifying trip. I had both cell phones and an iPad out, frantically checking weather patterns to see if we were in the path of danger. Thankfully, we made it home safe, but it was an experience I won’t soon forget.
While this race didn’t go as planned, it was another reminder that marathons are unpredictable, and sometimes it’s not just about the time—it’s about finding the strength to finish.
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