In or Out

From the moment I sent off my lottery entry for the Falmouth Road Race, I basically thought of nothing else. I mean, I didn’t sit by my computer, clicking the refresh button on my email like a lab rat trying to get a treat. I wanted to. Believe me, I wanted to. But this job and these kids and this life had demands on me, and I shoved the lottery as far back in my mind as I could.

It wasn’t very far.

In quiet moments, I would think about whether or not I’d get in… sometimes hoping against hope that I’d get picked and sometimes wondering what on Earth had compelled me to enter in the first place and praying they’d pass on me.

The closer it got, the more I panicked. What if I got in? That heat… all those people… THOSE HILLS.

So, by the time the 23rd rolled around, I had myself pretty worked up about the idea of getting in. I sent my friend Anne many texts about how scared I was, which she returned, because she’s good like that.

And then, I got a text from her. “Falmouth doesn’t want us.”

I checked my email. Nothing. We were registered as a team, so if she wasn’t in, I wasn’t in. But without an official “sorry, better luck next time” email, I couldn’t process it. What if it was a mistake? What if somehow they didn’t have us as a team and she didn’t get in and I did??

What if I had to run this alone? WHAT IF I HAD TO RUN THIS PERIOD?

I was beyond freaking out at this point. I am in no shape to be running that far, in that competitive a race, in the next 80 days. And the idea of getting in became more petrifying by the second.

And then I got the email.


And then I cried. Like, legit cried, right at my desk at work.

I’m still not sure if it was relief or disappointment that had me in tears. Probably some of both.

I didn’t realize until I truly wasn’t in, just how much I wanted to be. In the days between registration and rejection, I’d gotten attached to the idea of running this race. And suddenly, it was just… over.

I know it’s not personal. I know I wasn’t rejected based on my merits. I know so many other people got that email that day.

Still, it stung.

With some time to process, I’ve gotten okay with it. Because there are other races. Because I think it would have been a physical challenge beyond my capability right now. BECAUSE THOSE HILLS. DAMN.

And because there’s always next year. If I chose to enter, that is.

(I’m totally entering).

So, to my fellow Falmouth rejects, let’s hug it out. And to those that got in, go kick a little Cape Cod butt! I’ll be cheering you on. From my couch. Don’t hate.

So, lotteries. What do you think? And please feel free to give Bec your recs for a 10-15K type race sometime this fall, because she’s got a half to train for and if she thinks that Meri is going to let her rest on her…laurels… she’s got another thing coming. 

Whole Lotta Waiting Going On

Waiting…sucks. I tried to think of a way to put it nicely, but really, it just sucks. I know, patience is a virtue, yada yada. I have no patience. None. I don’t enter contests. I don’t know what date movies are scheduled to come out. I don’t play the lottery. I’m an immediate gratification kind of girl and I DO NOT like to wait.

Yet, here, I am, impatiently waiting.

For what? Why, I’m waiting to for the chance to run seven miles, of course.

With hills, of course.

In August, OF COURSE.

Speaking of the course…


Yeah, those were hills you just saw.

Including this one, right at the end.


I’m officially entered into the lottery for the 2013 Falmouth Road Race. And clearly, I’m insane because I’m actually hoping to get in.

I entered on the opening day of the lottery, which was a week ago, May 8th. They will notified the people that got in on May 24th.

I’ll do the math for you. That’s sixteen days of pulling my hair out. I’m going to (maybe) run (run/walk, let’s not kid ourselves) this thing bald at this rate.

This is my first lottery, and I kind of love/hate it. I know that there’s a good chance I won’t get in, being that it’s my first year and all. And I hate that, because I’m already attached to the race, in a way. But, IF I do get in, that’s going to feel so cool. And scary. Scarycool.  Still, there’s a lot of ‘if’.


IF I get in, my girl Anne is going to come run with me. (We registered as a team, so it both of us or neither of us). She has plans to time her collapse on Ben Affleck’s lawn. Clearly, she is the brains of this operation.

IF I get in, I’m going to have to train all summer. In the disgusting humidity instead of my air conditioned gym.

IF I get in, I’m probably going to have a full blown panic attack and wish it had gone the other way, at least for a couple of minutes.

But IF I get in, I’m going to run Falmouth, one of this country’s premier races, which since its initial run in 1973 with 100 people, has grown to over 10,000 runners per year.

And I might be one of them. That’s nuts.

Since I’m a total newb at race lotteries, I asked a couple of my fellow Scooters about their experience with them.

Vic: More often than not, I’m a lottery loser. I’ve thrown my hat in the ring at least half a dozen times and was only accepted once (thank you Broad Street Run for picking me so I don’t have a complete complex). But New York City Marathon rejected me three straight years. The only positive from that denial was that it ultimately gave me guaranteed entry to the road race this year.

I’m not a fan of lotteries because they toy with my emotions. Lotteries build me up and fill me with hope, then usually dash my dreams and continue to send me charity and race emails to mock me.

Yep. I’d rather just register.

Meri: Generally speaking, I’m not a huge fan of lotteries. A dollar and a dream? How about work hard and get things done! I’m not a gambling type of girl so I have a love/hate relationship with running lotteries. I love them when I get in (Broad Street Run). I hate them when I don’t (Nike Women’s Half DC). 

I understand that lotteries even the playing field for runners who are unable to sign up at a specific date and time but I suppose since I’m always able to make that happen with other races, I just feel bitter and resentful when I don’t get into a race via lottery.

Also, I don’t like waiting. I need instant gratification. Don’t toy with my emotions, running lotteries!

I think Meri is my spirit animal. And clearly, Vic and Meri have both been through this enough to make an informed opinion. I still have that babe-in-the-woods, hearts and flowers, ‘of course I’ll get in and I’ll finish in amazing time and I won’t even break a sweat’ newbie hope. Ask me how I feel if I don’t get in. (Don’t ask unless you want to hear curse words).

So, if you need me for the next 9 days, I’ll be sitting here wringing my hands, hoping the running gods smile down and let me in.

What shall I do to pass the time?

Freaking out will work quite nicely, I think.

Have you ever entered a race lottery? Did you get in? Did the waiting nearly kill you? Are you in the lottery for Falmouth this year? Tell us about it!