By Marian Nash

Guest columnist

In October 2006, I was 40 pounds overweight and a professional couch potato. I had lost weight before but I slipped back into old habits: eating lots of food and not moving from the couch very often.

I was frustrated with myself so I decided to do something about it. I started with the eating and went back to Weight Watchers to get that under control since that is how I lost weight the first time around. The weight started coming off slowly.

At the beginning of 2007, a friend and I set a goal in a meeting to run a 10K. Here is where my journey begins. I started walking about 30 minutes a day on a treadmill in my basement. When I started feeling stronger, I added inclines, a faster pace or more time. When the weather got nicer and my confidence built up, I moved my wogging (walking/jogging) to the great outdoors.

At this point I had lost the 40 pounds I set out to lose and my friend and I ran a 10K that summer. I had fun and caught the running bug. I also started working for Weight Watchers to help others achieve their weight loss goals.

Being the overachiever that I am, my next goal was to run the Portland Marathon in October of 2007. I searched for a training plan and followed it religiously for the next 16 weeks. I met my goal and crossed that finish line with a smile on my face and a gratifying pain in my legs. I remember hearing a lot of buzz about “Qualifying for the Boston Marathon” and asking “What’s the big deal?” My ear got chewed off for that question. It was apparently THE marathon anyone who runs marathons has their sights set on. I still wasn’t sold, although I did want to run other marathons.

I continued running marathons on and off through the next two years, qualifying for Boston several times with a time of less than four hours. People kept telling me “You qualified for Boston, you have to run it!” I bit the bullet and registered. The training began, once again, and before I knew it was time to make the trip to Boston to find out what all the hype was about.

My husband, youngest daughter and I traveled to Boston the Friday before the race. We arrived late and headed straight to bed. After waking Saturday morning and getting some breakfast, we headed to the Expo so I could pick up my bib number, walk around, get free stuff and, of course, some not-so-free stuff. It was extremely crowded; every runner seemed to have brought an entourage. After we had enough insanity, we explored Boston a little bit. Unfortunately the weather was cold and rainy; in fact they were saying that dreaded word “snow” on the weather forecast.

Sunday was a “take it easy” day. I tried to go to bed early since I had to wake up to be on a bus to the start line at 6:30 a.m. No sleep was to be had and I was up and out the door at least 30 minutes before I needed to be, leaving my husband and daughter to sleep.

I signed up for a package that included a bus ride to the start line. The ride was 45 minutes long. Thoughts of not being able to finish started going through my mind. If it took that long to drive to the start, how was I going to run that distance?

The time had come to head to the start line. My seatmate and I agreed to start off together and see what happened from there.

We joined the sea of people heading to the start, lined up and the gun went off.

My goal going into the race was to finish in less than four hours since that was my qualifying time. I tossed my jacket right away because it felt pretty warm with the sun shining. My seatmate and I lost each other in the crowd of people before we even hit the second mile. There was a rainbow of runners. The sound of feet hitting the pavement was like music. This was happening; I was running the Boston Marathon!

Each mile there were more and more spectators. At some points the cheers were almost deafening. I was wearing a shirt with my name on it, so people were yelling my name, which definitely helped me keep going. Each time I crossed a time mat marking 3.2 more miles I thought about my friends who were following my progress across the country.

As my legs tired, I thought about stopping and walking portions but then I would see another runner that would motivate me and keep me going.

The finish line was approaching and the crowds of spectators were getting thicker and louder. Every so often I’d see other runners slow down and walk and I just thought “You made it this far, keep running, there are only miles left. Once you pass the legendary Citgo sign there is only one mile left to go.”

That last mile is always the longest mile. Your legs are moving but it feels like the finish line is moving away from you like you are running through quicksand.

Two more corners and the beautiful sight of the finish line was in view. It was a great feeling to cross and know that all the weeks, days and hours of training and hard work paid off. My finish time was 3:46:46 which I was thrilled with. I had qualified to run the marathon again next year if I want to.