I did it – I finished the Boston Marathon! I wore my bright orange jacket proudly all last week. It wasn’t the day or the race I had hoped for, but it was Boston and an incredible experience. I took the heat wave in stride and adjusted my goals accordingly: run under 4:00:00 instead of breaking 3:30:00. The camaraderie on the course was incredible as we all suffered through the heat and there were so many spectators lining the entire route from Hopkinton to Boston.
The Weather: The hot topic of this year’s Boston Marathon. The week leading up to the race, I checked the weather daily with increasing dismay: 63 & cloudy, 67, 74, 71, 84 & partly cloudy, 86 & partly sunny. By race day, the forecast was 87 and there was hardly a cloud in the sky. Apparently there was a tailwind, but I didn’t feel a thing – maybe a slight breeze at one or two points along the way.
The Course: The Newton Hills and Heartbreak Hill are infamous, but the effect on your quads of running an overall downhill marathon gets less attention. There are rolling hills the whole way, and that famous right on Hereford presents an unwelcome incline a quarter mile from the finish.
The Strategy: Slow and steady. And try as many new things as possible race day, because this was nothing like my training. Just kidding, but I did try a few new things.
Saturday – the Expo. I couldn’t sleep last night. Or the night before. Between traveling and the time change, maybe I got a combined 9 hours. I head out for an easy 3 miles with a few pickups. The weather: 55 and sunny. I’m exhausted and sweating in shorts and a tee-shirt. How is everyone else in Boston running this morning in black leggings and black sweatshirts? I’m in for a rude awakening Monday…
The expo is mobbed. It feels like cattle being herded from the entrance, to the number pickup, to the shirt pickup, to the Adidas booth. Rookie mistake: I carry my bright orange sweat bag around town for the rest of the day only to discover the orange has rubbed off all over my jeans. My legs are tired – it’s amazing how quickly walking to and from T stops adds up to several miles throughout the day.
I go to bed contemplating the option to defer to 2013 the BAA emailed about today.
Sunday – Rest & Relaxation. After a good night’s sleep, I wake up feeling acceptance and a lack of nerves. If I’m not running for a PR then what is there to be nervous about? I put in the training. I’m here. I might as well do this. It’s just another long, slow run at this point. One problem: I’m suddenly completely congested; this whole experience just keeps getting better!
I head to the finish line to watch the BAA 5k and Invitational Mile. It’s already warm by 8am. It’s exciting watching the Desiree Davila in the 5k and Morgan Uceny in the mile. How often do you get to see world class athletes a few feet away? It’s really an intimate setting and a great opportunity to spend time at the historic marathon finish line before the big day.
After a big homemade brunch, I spend the rest of the day sitting, sneezing, and preparing for Monday morning. My family makes posters and maps out their marathon viewing plan. We all go out for a big pasta dinner, and I eat so many rolls I can hardly eat the main course. Since nothing about this race is going to be like my long run rehearsals, I buy a white hat (I’ve never run in a hat before), cold medicine, and Breath Right strips. I read a bit of Born to Run before lights out at 10:30.
Marathon Monday – 5:40am. I could just sleep today instead of running a marathon. I get up and am relieved to find my congestion mostly gone. I’m not hungry after so many rolls last night but force down a bowl of oatmeal and make a peanut butter sandwich for later. I say goodbye to Jay, wish him luck in shuttling our parents around the course, and set out for the T station and Boston Common to catch the bus to Hopkinton. After 45 minutes waiting in line, I board a bus where I make a few friends (Boston veterans). We chat about training, previous marathons, and the weather. 8:45. Athletes’ Village at Hopkinton HS is a zoo, and waiting for the start is torture as the sun and temperatures climb higher. Sun block: check. Hat: check. Body Glide: check. Cold medicine: not necessary. Breathe Right strip: check – I hand a few out to other curious runners up for trying anything today. Peanut butter sandwich: in my belly. One of my new friends writes my name on my arms. 9:40 and the slow march to the start line begins for Wave 2.
The Start – 10:20am. Wave 2, Corral 6. It must be close to 80 already. We are at a slow jog by the time we cross the start line. The streets of Hopkinton are crowded with spectators. The course immediately sends us down a steep half mile long hill. People are passing me, but I keep a slow, comfortable pace.
Mile 1 – 8:49. The first mile is emotional. I can’t believe I’m actually here, running the Boston Marathon! I am amazed by the number of people cheering for complete strangers. So much noise and energy. I reach out to slap kids’ outstretched hands. It takes a bit getting used to hearing my name. I look around for someone I know but then remember my name is plastered on my arms in permanent marker.
Mile 2 – 8:33. This Breathe Right strip is amazing! I feel great – maybe this won’t be so bad after all (she says after 2 miles!). It’s shady for now under the trees, and the rolling hills continue to send us overall downhill. There are a couple people out with garden hoses. We’re already in Ashland, the second of eight towns on the way to Boston.
Mile 3 – 8:31. Where is my family going to be – 5k or 5 miles? I don’t remember. I keep an eye out for the pink and green neon posters. They will be on the left, but I am on the right to capture any shade. The trees open up as we enter Ashland town center. Suddenly there’s a median dividing the course, and I’m stuck on the right side. I see them! The median ends just in time for me to dart across the road and stop for a quick hello.
Mile 4 – 8:33. Sweat and sun block finally undermine the Breathe Right strip and a bit of congestion returns. I sip Gatorade at each mile, then water, dumping the remaining water on my head under my new hat. I discovered at the first water stop my hat is not absorbent and in fact repels any water dumped directly on it.
Mile 5 to 7 – 8:40, 8:34 & 8:36. The course begins to level out, still with rolling hills, and the trees are gone. We enter town number three, Framingham, and crowd on the right side of the street, packed in the slim shadows of buildings. Spectators are handing out water, ice, and orange slices between official aid stations. Grills and picnics dot the sidewalks. I take my first GU and walk a bit at each water stop to be sure the water actually gets in my mouth.
Mile 8 to 10 – 8:47, 8:36, & 8:38. The town of Natick seems to go on forever, and the miles blur into one another. I must be well hydrated – I kind of have to go to the bathroom. Maybe I’ll sweat it off. The crowds thin as we pass by a lake. I’m dreaming of cool breezes coming off the water, but there’s nothing. I get lost in thoughts of swimming before being jerked back to reality by photographers atop a lift swung out over the road. They’ve laid a backdrop across the road and are snapping pictures feverishly. I muster a smile and lift my arms triumphantly.
Mile 11 & 12 – 8:57 & 8:38. I’m relieved to have 10 miles down, but as I enter into Natick center with all the crowds I’m not feeling so fresh. I’ve been moving along at a smooth, relaxed pace, but my legs can tell they’ve gone 10 miles. I’m not even half finished. The heat is really starting to settle in. By this point there are garden hoses everywhere and spectators throwing tubs of ice water into the sea of runners. I take my second GU, hoping for a jolt of energy.
Mile 13 – 8:47. This mile starts out with the famous Wellesley girls. They’re all wearing bright-colored lipstick and holding signs for kisses. It’s easy to get lost in the energy and forget you’re more than 13 miles from the finish line.
Mile 14 – 8:31. More than halfway! There are huge crowds running through Wellesley, and firefighters have the hydrants open, spraying a delightful mist. I veer from hose to hose, hydrant to hydrant, with the rest of the runners. By this point I’m soaked head to toe. I’m keeping an eye on the portable toilets each mile, looking for one without a line.
Mile 15 – 9:10. There’s a bit of shade on the right side of the road, but I’m running on the left looking for my family. Again I don’t remember exactly where they will be – somewhere between mile 14 and 16 I am sure. The crowds seem endless until I finally spot the neon signs. I stop for a photo, causing a small panic and fumbling with cameras. I’m so happy to see them and as soon as I leave, I begin counting down the miles (and the hills) until I’ll see them again.
Mile 16 – 9:22. Toilet without a line! I’m in and out, much relieved and apparently well hydrated. The road plunges toward Newton Falls and you know the hills are coming as you enter Newton, town number six. I take my third GU and prepare for the roller coaster (although I don’t recall the downhills…).
Mile 17 – 9:01. The hill up from Newton Falls hits immediately and I walk briefly. It’s hot, there are a lot of hills to come, why not take a break? The crowd is continuous by this point, still calling out my name. I muster a smile or a wave from time to time, appreciating the encouragement. I’m so wet from hoses and hydrants I can’t tell how much I’m sweating. I’m weary of over hydrating and just take enough water to wet my mouth.
Mile 18 & 19 – 9:34 & 8:56. My hair is completely soaked from all the water I’ve been dumping under my hat and it’s beginning to fall down on my neck. Wearing the hat compromises my tried and true style, and I redo my hair several times to get it secure and contained. I walk again briefly up a steep hill just before the 18 mile mark, then a gentle downhill mile. I’m walking more at the water stops, but as soon as I dump the last of the water under my hat, I’m off running again. My quads are getting soar and I am anticipating the wall.
Mile 20 – 9:50. A short steep hill follows the 20 mile mark and I walk again. People all around me are walking. My quads cringe with every side to side step to get through the crowd, anything but the slow, steady forward motion. My legs are in robot mode, moving methodically. I know Heartbreak Hill is coming, so I take my final GU.
Mile 21 – 9:53. Heartbreak Hill. It’s not that steep, but it’s long. Other than my quads, my legs are doing okay – no heaviness I have felt by this point in previous marathons. About halfway up the hill, I walk. Why not? I’m drained from the heat. My mouth is getting parched between water stops. The crowd is encouraging, but I keep walking. I’m tired. I start running again before reaching the top, and immediately start passing people. I feel like I’m moving along at a good clip…when I’m moving.
Mile 22 – 9:27. I start thinking about seeing my family again. The downhill isn’t as hard on my sore quads as I was anticipating. All of Boston lies ahead. I scan the skyline for familiar landmarks. I walk a little further at each water stop. What’s that pain on my heel? Is there a piece of dirt stuck in my shoe? No. I’m completely soaked. It must be my first ever running blister. I count myself lucky and push on.
Mile 23 – 9:57. Those neon posters are a welcome sight. I head over to the barricades on the left. My quads are not happy about coming to a stop. I ask my family for a ride, which they gladly agree to. Who am I kidding? I’m so close to finishing the Boston Marathon. If I can just keep under 10 minute miles, I have less than 30 minutes to go and I’ll finish in under 4 hours. After a painful push-off, my legs are back in robot mode.
Cringing to a stop.
Asking for a ride…
Mile 24 – 9:32. Brookline, town number seven. Here’s when I really start counting down the minutes of running before I can stop. If I was going for my original goal, I’d be finished by now. A depressing realization. I’m parched. I see the iconic Citgo sign. It’s so far away.
Mile 25 – 9:25. Less than two miles to go. Brookline is a blur. I’m sure there were throngs of people cheering. I am so focused on moving forward. And then there is an overpass just before 25 miles. I’m walking, just long enough to get through the bulk of the hill. It’s a bump really, but I’m so exhausted. I run past the restaurant with tasty rolls we ate at last night. I can’t even think of eating right now, but I’m remembering being in this same spot and not running. I’m so close to my friend’s apartment where there’s AC and a shower. But I have to keep going. I see the Hancock tower in the distance.
Mile 26 – 9:09. Water under my hat, and I’m off. That was the last water station and the last time I will let myself walk. Less than 10 minutes of running left. I can do this – what’s 10 more minutes after 3 hours and 45 minutes? Any walking now is just that much longer before I can stop for good. I’m starting to get really excited about being done. The Back Bay of Boston is beautiful with all the historic townhouses lining the streets. I don’t even see the crowds. I know the end is near and I just want to get there. Hereford Street already? And a little hill, then left on Boylston. I see the finish!
The Finish: But I know it’s a quarter mile away. It’s tauntingly close. So many people are walking. How can you be so close and walking? Just get it done and over with! My eyes are glued on the finish and I try not to get too excited for fear of burning out before getting there. And I’m done. I come to a cringing stop, and a wave of emotion hits as I’m ushered forward. I drink so much water. There are photographers, and I try to smile. I decline a space blanket, but all around they reflect blinding sunlight. My baggage bus is at the end of the line of course, but I make it and find a spot to sit in the shade. My calf cramps immediately, and I attempt to stretch while changing into glorious flip flops. I wear my medal proudly the rest of the day. I ran the Boston Marathon!
3:56:18 (9:01 pace)
1,492/4,595 age division
2,085/8,991 female
7,801/21,606 overall
Eat Run & Be Merry 