A HUGE reason that I wanted to run the marathon in Basel was to share the experience with Tim as I have mentioned earlier, because he is the original Marathoner in my life, but also to create memories with my two nieces and nephew, Jenna, Kate, and Blake Kelly. I wanted to fully embrace my role as “Adventurous Aunt T,” and I figured running the marathon in their new city would solidify my street cred.
I had decided a while ago that I did not want to have children of my own, a controversial and baffling choice to many, but it is the right one for me. In fact, one of the reasons I enjoyed my time in Basel so much was that both Tim, and his Super-Hero wife Shannon, never asked me once about having kids; they asked about Hannah, who is my everything. I know my calling in life was to be her step mother, and to inspire my many nieces and nephews go after their dreams, even if their parents think they are nutty, I will always be in their corner rooting them on.
One of these reasons why I am writing this blog, and this book, is so that I can have a platform to speak from in becoming a motivational speaker. However, I had a sneak peek into my future while speaking to about 25 or so eager International School Basel students during their lunch hour the Friday before the race. Shannon had spoken about me with the school’s PE teacher, a handsome and vibrant Frenchman named, Didier, and thankfully he jumped at the chance for me to speak to the students, and even put together a fantastic flyer that had the kids pumped to hear what yours truly had to say.
I was a little nervous, he associated me with some mighty fast ladies, but I was more excited than anything, and was looking forward to sharing my experiences with running and triathlon with the next generation. The highlight of the day had to have been Blake standing in front of the group next to me giving me a fantastic introduction, I was both impressed and humbled, I didn’t know he knew that much about his Aunt T? Next, I started off talking about how long a marathon is, and what it takes to train for one, the time, nutrition, etc., but I opened the floor up to questions pretty quickly because I knew if the kids were listening me voluntarily they were into in running, I didn’t need to convince them, instead I wanted to feed their passion by sharing as much as they wanted to know. They asked such inquisitive, excellent questions, every single one of them. Eventually, they had to go back to class, but not before a few of them, mainly the tall girls who reminded me so much of myself at that age, came up and asked me individual questions, they looked at me like I was their hero; it was the coolest feeling ever. As Shannon, Kate and I walked upstairs toward the car I took in a deep sigh because now I wanted to live up to their expectations of me and run fast on Sunday.
Fortunately, Saturday was an action-packed family day which included Blake’s soccer game, a detour through France to visit a Swiss castle, a stop by the race expo, and an hour so in my Mother’s would be “heaven” the Kurbis Festival; that’s Pumpkin Festival for us English speaking folks. Sadly, I did not partake in the delicious Kurbis soup, due to my strict diet before race day, it would be another pancake dinner for me later, but Jenna and Shannon gobbled some up for all of us, and then we conquered the corn maze under the steadfast leadership of Jenna. I would follow her into battle any day.
I slept well on Saturday night, but not a whole lot. I have grown accustomed to my usual 4AM wake-up call on race days, but with the 8:30AM start time this time around, that early rising hour was not required, but I was up and at ‘em anyway. Tim and I left for the tram around 6:50ish because I told him I wanted to be at the starting line an hour before the gun went off, however, we were both a little surprised when we arrived at our stop and nary a barricade was up yet, let alone crowded runners in the street. We walked around for a little while, he showed me his favorite spot looking over the Rhine River just behind a cathedral, and found a clutch breakfast spot for him to have coffee and a chocolate croissant, while I was happy to have a warm place to sit and psyche myself up.
The runners started bustling about the starting line as Tim and I both assessed the crowd and thought I had a chance to do well, but I am always on the look-out for the Spritely swift-footed 40-50 aged runners who always seem to edge me out of the top spot, I saw a couple of contenders, so I kept my expectations at bay. Who am I kidding? I was just thrilled and thankful to be there. Once again I was fit and healthy enough to be standing on marathon starting line feeling fresh and pumped to give everything I had for 26.2 miles, err 42.2 km, for you European folks out there. This race was already my greatest achievement because I had to complete 35 By 35 in order to make it here; I did, so here I was ready to run the marathon at the top of my list.
The gun went off and I started off quickly but maintained a sensible position considering the narrow cobble-stone streets. The most annoying/hilarious few hundred yards of the race was when I was stuck behind two pace runners being slapped and punched by the balloons tied on their shirts with their pace time written on them, next time carry signs my friends. Soon I darted around my balloon smacking cohorts at the corner just beyond 2K mark, and settled into a comfortably uncomfortable pace that I felt confident in maintaining for most of the race, it was fun to be running fast again.
The most amazing part of this marathon was that Tim was rooting for me in person. It could be because I am the youngest of us four Kelly kids, or that I am just a big sap, but I have always had a heavy heart when it comes to spending time with my siblings. There is no doubt that I worshipped Tim, Peter, and Mary growing up, but when Tim went away to college I was only ten, and it was not an easy transition for me. Tim was a rock for the three of us elementary aged kiddos when we moved from Palos Verdes to Claremont after my parent’s divorce, his approval meant everything to me, and that feeling has not changed over the last thirty years. Running this marathon in Basel with Tim cheering me on meant just as much to my thirty five year old self as it did to my ten year old self, absolutely everything.
I wasn’t sure when or where I would see him on the course, but it didn’t matter, because he was all over the place! The first spot I saw him was just after the 10K mark which was perfect because he let me know I was the second woman, sweet! Just after I passed him I noticed my shoes were untied, so I had to stop and tie them, I think I only lost a few seconds, but really? Shoes untied, come on Taryn! Over the next few miles we meandered through some tree-lined old roads within Basel, there were some ups and downs in elevation that altered my pace a bit, but I felt strong and consistent throughout the first of two loops on the course, then I saw Tim again and he yelled, “How are you?”
“Okay, I’m kind of feeling it.”
“Just have fun, Tar, the leader is 200 feet in front of you!”
Well, that did the trick! The slight twinge of lactic built up in my legs went away as suddenly I felt like a real competitor. I had never been this close to the lead in any marathon, or triathlon, in fact the only time I won races was in the 100meter hurdles in high school, and those were mainly in the preliminary heats. I did lead a cross country race for the first mile during my fleet-footed Freshmen season. It was the Frosh/Soph heat at the Mt. Sac Relays, the first mile on the course is flat, then a little windy, I clocked it in 6:34min., my fastest time to date, but I fell back a few places once we hit the unforgiving switchbacks, then fell further back once I started the climb up Poop Out hill, sadly no podium finish on that day. However, the feeling of being out in front, with every other runner outside of your periphery, behind you, is a feeling an athlete never forgets.
As I rounded the next turn I saw a petite blonde woman in a triathlon kit about fifty feet ahead of me, I assumed she was the leader, my pace was faster, so I didn’t make a dramatic surge or anything, soon enough I overtook her and made the pass. We gave each other a courteous nod, but she didn’t’ try to chase me down, that was it. A few yards ahead I saw a guy on a bike riding in the middle of the street with a sign on the front, I assumed he was the 1st place female escort, so I asked him, “Am I in first place?” he turned to me, looking somewhat bewildered to see another woman who was nearly double the size of the pip squeak he was riding next to for the first 21km, “Marathon?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah.”
That was all I needed to hear, I was leading a marathon, what??!!
The next 21km were spectacular. There were out and back sections of the course where we ran past fellow marathoners and half marathoners and one thing I always do is cheer for the lead women in races when I see them. I believe the race is run individually, not against each other, and I revere fast runners, but today I was the fast runner they were cheering for.
Yes, my legs started to ache over the last 10k or so, but I kept a consistent pace, in fact I passed quite a few prideful Basler men who were not too keen on a woman overtaking them, but this was my day, I was a machine, this was 36th marathon for goodness sakes, I knew what I was doing, and all I wanted to say was, “On your left, thanks.”
The last kilometer or so seemed to go on forever, but soon enough I made the final turn and ran up toward the finish. I was looking for Tim in the crowds lining both sides of the street, but I was ecstatic when I saw Shannon, Jenna, Kate, and Tim cheering for me holding the cutest sign ever just before I made the final turn toward the finish line. I didn’t think the girls would be able to make it to the race because they were in various states of illness, but Shannon rallied the troops, and I will be forever grateful that the girls were able to see their Aunt T win a marathon. This trip was about creating memories with them, and I think they will remember that one for a long time.
Just after I crossed the finish line this photo was taken, and I think it says it all.
Even though this particular quest is complete, there will be many more for me, for example writing my book, and I hope there will many more for all of you, too. It doesn’t have to be running marathons, or running at all, we are all capable of amazing things if we set a goal and challenge ourselves to go after it.
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