The Joys of Boston

It’s hard to believe it’s been over three months since the 117^th running of the Boston Marathon and that sad ending of what by all accounts should have been a spectacular day. I’ve already blogged about the bombings but I feel it is not only acceptable but required to also blog about the joys of that day, regardless of the tardiness of this report. To hold onto the acts of terror without acknowledging the happiness and successes of that day is to succumb to the will of those individuals intent on stealing what makes Americans and all runners great, i.e. the ability to embrace challenges and celebrate the journey of life.

My husband and I arrived in Boston at the crack of dawn on that Friday before the marathon. After a little sightseeing and much needed food stop, we hit the Expo! WOW! 

I made it!!

Of course, the check-in/packet pick ups went like clockwork. After over a hundred years, the Boston Athletic Association has this stuff done to a fine art. My excitement was almost uncontrollable. I was here. Me! Old, slow ME! Dreams do come true. My only disappointment that day would be having the Red Sox game at Fenway Park get rained out. L  A real disappointment for my baseball loving hubby, too! We still managed a good bit of sightseeing with enough time for me to rest my legs.

Yes, I DO need another pair of shoes!

In the following two days, I would return to the Expo no less than three times. I never did see every inch of it. It was simply too much to absorb and (frankly) too much for my pocketbook. Yes, I did get ANOTHER pair of new Saucony running shoes. So what?! A Boston Edition of Saucony Virrata. How could I resist??

Welcome to the expo!

Checking out the fare.

One of the things I most appreciated at the expo was the video they had playing, which took you on a guided tour of every inch of the course with narration by many notable runners. Tips on how the course might be best run were extremely helpful and I quickly realized that the first downhill six miles really might not be as simple as one would hope. Yes, it definitely is downhill, which makes wanting to blast out of the starting gate very tempting BUT there are also some nice gentle rolling hills in that stretch. It would be easy to forget about those and waste your energy on them during the first 6-10 miles leaving you unprepared for when you begin to approach the real hills at Newton. My stomach became a bit queasy at the thought but I pushed back those negative voices and noted that I would err on the side of conservative pacing come Monday.

Relaxing at a French bistro on Boylston after a tough day at the Expo!

A little sightseeing Saturday afternoon found me helping out some of the locals. ;)

The air was a bit nippy, and it looked good that it would be nice temps for race day!

Beacon Hill

Original street work and modern wiring?!

Saying hello to Paul. 

On Sunday evening, after a delicious meal at a small local Italian restaurant with my fellow Honey Badgers of the Portland Chapter (Melissa, Rose and Stacey), I was back in my room at a decent hour and in bed early enough to be able to get up at the 3:30 a.m. Yes, most people really don’t need to get up that early for a run, but I often have G.I. issues that must be addressed and need time to well…flush out. ;) As with most nights before a marathon, I slept very little so it was easy to roll out of bed on time.

My hotel was located in the financial district and approximately 1.25 miles from the Boston Common, an easy walk to the buses that would take us out to Hopkinton.

Me in the black and white jacket heading for the buses.

Buses as far as the eye could see.

I was to meet up with my friends at a designated spot and my friend (and volunteer personal pacer), Wade, was to meet us there as well. As luck would have it, it was barely managed chaos and while I did meet up with the HBs, I missed Wade. So I would be running my first Boston on my own. I was nervous about this but secretly happy for my “pacer”. This was his first Boston, too, and I knew he had trained hard for it. He was set to run his fastest marathon to date, and now he could do this without me dragging him down.

I have never before seen so many buses and so many people trying to get on them. It is nothing short of amazing to see how the Boston Athletic Association has all aspects of this race down to a science. The bus ride is very long and I was extremely grateful that I heeded the warnings and made a last minute porta-potty trip before boarding the bus. ;)

Apparently, I decided to wear my scuba gear! LOL!

The days leading up to the marathon had been rather cool and gray. I had been watching weather reports for a couple weeks and while they often showed the threat of a 72-74 degree day, that temperature appeared to be dropping as race day approached. There was even the chance of a sprinkle in some forecasts. As a Pacific Northwesterner, this was welcome news for racing conditions. Anything over 65 degrees becomes a problem for this runner. :P  As the buses pulled out of Boston, blue skies and sunshine gave hope for a beautiful day but temps remained quite pleasant. Cool enough to need my throwaway jacket even in the first mile or two of the race.

When you arrive at Hopkinton, you enter the runners Village. It’s setup on school property with lots of tents offering food, coffee, water, fruit some covered area and, of course, HUNDREDS of porta-potties. There was music playing, lots of field area to throw down a blanket and sit, or sleep, or whatever, until you heard the announcement of the upcoming Wave line-up. To check your bag before you walk to your corral, you go to where a sea of buses were parked, find the bus window that has the range of numbers that cover your bib number and toss your bag up to one of the thousands of stellar volunteers. Easy and quick. Those buses would be waiting for us at the finish, making retrieval of checked bags just as easy.

Watch out! Honey Badger alert! New HBs must don the big girl panties.

My friends and I made the mistake of waiting a little too long to use the porta-potty one last time. I think I might have been one of the last people out of there. This caused us to really have to hustle to our starting corral. I barely arrived at mine (Wave 3, Corral 2) on time. Having missed the entrance in the gates earlier, a volunteer grabbed me and pushed me into the front area of my corral through a small gap. I arrived just in time to hear the final announcements. I’m sure there might have been a national anthem played but I don’t recall because I was suddenly feeling very alone in a sea of people and feeling the need to say a quiet prayer for a safe race, as I usually do at all races. Little would I know how important that prayer would be.

Starting area

Because the waves/corrals are seeded by qualifying times, you are surrounded by people who are capable of running a minimum time similar to yours. This is quite different than starting in corrals where people are seeded by often over-optimistic estimated finish times. Yes, those first couple miles at Boston are a bit slower than you might like but you shouldn’t find them terribly slow as there is not the need to slow down for all those truly slow runners who had unrealistic goals.

Fortunately, I had taken the time to study the course map, most especially the elevation chart, and taken mental notes during the video at the expo, therefore, I felt fairly confident with to expect at the beginning of the course and how I might be tempted to try banking some time. I resisted. That tactic has never worked for me. I needed to stick with the plan. So I did.  I had promised myself – no sub 8:00 miles. It was hard. I would feel myself flying, look at my watch and see that I was running 7:45-7:50, so I would force myself to slow down. It was hard.

I don’t like carrying my own hydration. The Boston Marathon is a great race for people like me. There were aid stations EVERY mile! Each had Gatorade, water and porta-potties. This made hydration management easy. If I felt I could skip a station, no problem since there was another one a mile later. I was also able to take in more Gatorade than I typically use. This was a tremendous help for me as I still struggle with fueling issues. The Gatorade helped me in that regard. I was able to choke down a few Hot Tamales (yes, cinnamon candy) and even half a gel pack. Turns out this would be the first marathon I’ve run where I did NOT hit the wall! Success!

The hills on the course are really not that bad IF you’ve trained on hills! I felt sorry for some of my fellow runners who openly complained about the hills very early in the run. Since it is harder to find a flat course rather than a hilly one in my neck of the woods, I found the hills less challenging than many of the hills back home. 

The halfway point, which happens to be just about where the Wellesley College screaming wall is, was my favorite part.  Yes, you can hear those college girls screaming a good half mile before you reach it! The enthusiasm is infectious. If you’re feeling the least bit tired at this point, you will welcome the injection of energy these college kids will give you. And yes, there were offers of kisses, but I declined. Seriously? Kissing some old lady with crusty salt brine and a runny nose? Yeah, wasn’t going to happen.

I would have many firsts this day. My first Boston Marathon, the first time I have ever run a marathon where there were people cheering for you the ENTIRE 26.2 miles, the first time I have ever run a marathon where I was with other runners (i.e. felt like a group run, no spacing out of runners) the ENTIRE 26.2 miles, the first time I have ever run a marathon and NOT hit the wall!  Oh, yes. It did hurt a bit. The sun started to bother me during the last half, even though it remained a comfortable temperature and the bottoms of my feet started cramping in the last 4-5 miles. That made for a proper midfoot strike very difficult BUT I did not feel I had hit the wall. I still had the energy to finish.

The skies became a bit hazy and overcast-like towards the end, and it started to feel a bit muggy. I was not sure what my time was going to be as I did not look at my cumulative time on my watch but was really paying more attention to how I was managing my pace. In retrospect, I feel I could’ve pushed a wee bit harder on the hills; however, I feared blowing up at the end…so I played it safe and backed off on them a bit. 

Nope. Don't know the man in the background. Need to learn how to photoshop him away.

It was almost anti-climatic when I finished with a respectable at a 3:41:47. I had PR’d by over 13 minutes and BQ’d by over 28 minutes, meaning I’ll get the earliest registration for next year’s Boston. I wanted to scream, jump and shout with joy but husband was somewhere in the sea of people in friends and family waiting area. I would have to wait for the rejoicing. Interestingly, I did not cry. I thought I would but I wanted to jump and laugh with glee, not cry.  No. I did not cry at the finish.

I did my crying when I crossed the starting line! The tears flowed easily then. I was overcome with feelings of gratitude. Grateful for all the hours and miles of training. Grateful for my fellow training partners who shared those miles with me. Grateful for my HB friends who made me believe that running at any pace makes you a real runner.  Grateful for my family and non-runner friends who listened ad nauseam about my miles, my diet, my racing plans, my running insecurities. Grateful that I made it to the start line with seven weeks of 60+ mile training weeks and coming out the other end uninjured. The tears followed easily and quietly that first half mile or so.

After finishing, I would be grateful, too! Grateful that I finished and I was able to walk to safety with my husband. Grateful that my HB friends and all my fellow Portlanders and their families who were there in Boston would make it home safely. Grateful that the majority of my fellow Portlanders also had great race results and that most were able to finish ahead of the bombing event. At the time I crossed the finish line, I was grateful that I finally had a marathon that went as hoped and planned. I had trusted my training and I was blessed with a successful first Boston Marathon.

I heard the first bomb, I saw it’s cloud of debris falling to the ground (thankfully, I could not see beyond the tops of people’s heads), I saw and heard the second bomb. There was uncertainty and confusion. I ran into Wade in the crowds. He ran a spectacular race and it was one of the brief moments of shared joy before we hustled off in opposing directions.

The 117^th Boston Marathon will always be special and remembered. Perhaps not for all the right reasons, but for me and many, many more people, it will be remembered for some very good reasons. My first Boston, my first sub 3:45 marathon, my first no-wall marathon. As icing on the cake the winner of my age group was non-other than Joan Benoit Samuelson, 1984 Olympic gold medalist! She ran an AG course record at 2:50:29! I ran in a race with one of my running idols and I placed 39th in my AG. 39th?! I broke the top 40 in my AG and I'm as happy about that as if I had won. But then don't we all win when we achieve goals we once perceived as impossible? ;)

Hubby and I stayed a couple more days. (It was a planned mini-vacation.) The people of Boston are kind, generous, gritty and many came up to me to express their concern as to whether I was able to finish my run and whether I would return.  Children were coming up to me to congratulate me on running Boston. (Everyone in town knows if you are wearing the jacket, you were in the race.)  My reply to those inquiring Bostonians is, OF COURSE, I’m coming back!! The Boston Marathon is a classic, not to be missed and totally worth the commitment to get there!

It really does all start here…with crazy friends, family and runablers!