coeur d' alene, idaho.

Three miles in I was toast. Like the kind of toast that pops up charred and inedible because you forgot to turn the knob down after the last weirdo who likes burnt toast cranked it all the way up.

Three miles in and my left knee is throbbing. I’m thinking, “shit, I’m only gonna be able to do the half marathon.” Which would work out just fine because it’s just half of this stupid two loop, out and back course (whoever plans those kinds of courses clearly hasn’t run them themselves). Except for the expensive plane ticket. And the expensive hotel room. And the expensive race entry fee. And the fact that I’m all the way over here in Northern Idaho (which I hear is where some white supremacy groups are hanging out these days. What?) to check another state off my marathon list, and if I don’t finish the marathon I’ll have to spend all of that money over again anyway.

Well fuck.

Looks like it’s time to pour some water on the burnt up toast and choke it down.

At mile seven the wretched knee pain mysteriously wanders away. I tweaked my knee in the Santa Barbara Wine Country Half Marathon two weeks ago, haven’t done any sort of running since in hopes that the tweaked knee might right itself (well let’s just be honest, I’m a marathon runner who doesn’t really run, except for during the marathons-so the tweaked knee didn’t really have anything to do with the lack of running-but the lack of running probably had something to do with the tweaked knee-oops).

So here I am, less than half way through the race and all I can ponder is when the knee pain will wander back. But it doesn’t. Until after the race is finished.

What wanders up instead is a bout of serious nausea and light-headedness. Which I’ve never had in a race. Ever. I got to about mile 22 and I started feeling absurdly thirsty (you might be thinking ‘well drink some water doofus,’ of which I had been, crazy amounts of, in fact). I’ve made a habit out of getting water at every single aid station no matter how closely they stack those things. When you’re running a marathon, it’s not really possible to over-hydrate. At least from my experience. So I chugged at least one, sometimes two cups at every station. And I had been chugging water all day prior. I don’t really know what caused the drama that day, all I know is that it took everything in me not to throw up and pass out at the same time during the last four miles of that race. I was just envisioning myself toppling over 50 yards before the finish and being whisked off in an ambulance to be left in debt for the rest of my life (I can’t afford them medical bills) when all they had to do was slap me upside the head and hand me a glass of water, maybe a banana or somethin’. I think watching this clip https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3iWI72c42gc the night before might have had something to do with the weirdness I was experiencing (serious psychological distress caused my body to wig out, I just know it).

Anyway, I finished. Took me an ugly 4:39 but I did it. Yet again. So Idaho is officially checked off the list and I won’t have to fly back to that Ku Klucky place. Ok, I shouldn’t call it that, because in all seriousness Coeur d’ Alene, Idaho is a magical place.

Let me tell you about it.

We (we being Teagan, Ali and myself-reunited for yet another running event I’ve recruited them to complete with me-it’s a love/hate relationship) stayed in the Flamingo Motel, which is the most adorable little mom and pop spot, just bocks from the start line. The elderly gentleman that checked us in sweetly tells us about all the amenities as well as the most delicious restaurants to go to (all while the potent smell of Domino’s pizza wafts through the tiny lobby). “Man that pizza does smell good don’t it? That’s my dinner and I can’t wait to eat it.” We leave him to it and head over to the Country Cottage, our home for the next three days.

We open the door and fall in love. The décor screams country (if country could scream). Everything about this place is perfect. The beds, the coffee, the magic fingers. ‘Hold up, what are magic fingers?’  you’re thinking. Apparently they were all the rage in the 70’s (basically just vibrating beds) but now the only place you can find them is at The Flamingo Motel. So of course we enjoyed the Magic Fingers many times throughout our stay. Get your mind out of the gutter. They were especially nice after our marathon endeavors.

Now that I am home and preparing for my Peru travels, marathonning is on the backburner, but only until July 13^th when I cross Montana off the list. Oh, and in other news, I finally officially joined the 50 States Marathon Club: http://www.50statesmarathonclub.com/cgi-bin/main.cgi?form=3  and I am currently in the process of registering for Marathon Maniacs. What what?! Four marathons in four months qualifies me for a gold star on the bronze level: http://www.marathonmaniacs.com/are-you-a-marathon-maniac/maniac-criteria

Big things are happening on this fiftybythirty marathon endeavor. Get excited!

Ps…currently working on a website. Will be launching soon!!

baby got back(ground information).

Oh hey.

My name is Sabrina McCarley and I'm a nearly 27-year-old nutcase who likes to run marathons. Without training much. This is not a place to take advice, as I clearly do everything wrong. This is a place to read nutty stories about a nutty chick who has plans to achieve a (what some might consider) nutty goal.

I started running marathons when I was 16. My nutty (yes, I've used the word nutty 4 times in the last 3 sentences-get over it) cross country coach roped me into joining 'Students Run LA,' a non-profit endeavor to keep kids off the streets (because clearly, I needed an alternate hobby-the wheelin' and dealin' lifestyle was takin' me in the wrong direction). More like the chicken nuggets and soda pops were tossing me on a one way track toward Type 2 Diabetes.

I joined cross country to lose weight when I was 15. Chunkster Sabs needed to shed a few pounds and running seemed like a sure fire way to get there. Little did I know that I would actually be quite good at it. By the end of sophomore season, I was voted the Most Valuable Runner. Oh snap.

Turns out I was good at 3 mile courses, not so much 26.2 mile courses. I am an average marathoner. Don't let my extremist goal fool you into believing I'm some sort of elite runner. Because elite is something I will never be. I've come to terms with that fact. I'm fairly certain I'll never be sponsored by one of those multi-billion dollar running corporations, but I'm passionate. And that's all that really matters.

Back to my story.

After building up my endurance and stamina over the course of a year and a half (sophomore year and part of junior), a marathon seemed like something manageable. And so I did it.

I ran the Los Angeles Marathon in March of 2004, the event's second hottest year in history. It took me 5 hours and 17 minutes but I did it. And from that day, I've been hooked. After experiencing the seemingly narcotic highs and fierce energy of thousands of people coming together to pummel themselves into the asphalt, I realized that initial effort to keep me off the street (in a metaphorical way) had ultimately thrown me out onto it (literally). That little saying, "Bet ya can't have just one," rings true for me and marathons.

After seeing my cross country coach's long list of completed marathons all over the globe, I found a new bucket list goal for myself. I wanted to run a marathon in every state. And eventually on every continent. But we'll stick to the states first.

Now, 10 years later, I've knocked 13 (almost 14 after next weekend) states off the list and have decided to finish the 50 by the time I turn 30. This means I have to run 36 marathons in the next 3 years. For all you mathematically challenged folks, that's a marathon a month for 3 years. Which seems a little nutty, but when you check out the folks that are running them everyday for weeks and months at a time, it doesn't seem like such a lofty feat.

But those people are not me.

And one a month is plenty (well, I'm doing three in a month over the summer but that's just me being silly). Watch me get injured. Would be just my luck.

Here is a a look at where I'm at:

I'll be using this little bloggy to update those of you that are interested in this endeavor I've thrown myself into.

Please keep in mind that this blog is not just for runners.

Nor is it just for people who know me personally and want to stay updated on this magical life of mine.

Nor is it just for wannabe runners who want to live vicariously through someone who is doing cooler things than they are.

This blog is for passionate people who set goals and take steps to achieve them, or maybe haven't taken any steps (yet), or maybe haven't set any goals (yet), but have every intention to once they stop reading and start doing. Feel inspired people.

This blog is for normal people with normal lifestyles, and also for exceptional people with exceptional lifestyles. No sub-par people though please. If you don't know whether you qualify as sub-par, ask a neighbor. But don't hope to get an honest response. Just read my blog to boost you out of the land of sub-pardom.  Because, ok, yes this blog is for sub-par people as well.

Hey guess what, this blog is for everyone! Yee.

Check back on Monday for an update on my race in Coeur d' Alene, Idaho.