Time: 5:02:46
Pace: 11:32 min/mil
Most Challenging Moment: Rain. Cold. WIND.
Most Inspiring Moment: Turning the corner on Bolyston, seeing that Finish line
Well, folks, we did it.
Five months of training, over 400 miles run, 112 inches of snow, and it all brought me to this day. I am exhausted but so so happy--despite the challenging conditions, I had a GREAT run!
It all started the night before, with some spaghetti and meatballs from Salty Pig, my carb-provider of choice. Then I began thinking about my run. I knew from rabidly watching the weather report that it was going to be cold and windy on Monday (I mean, of course--right?), which would make clothing a challenge. I also had to stock my new fanny pack with food, drink tablets, and other essentials. I laid everything out on the table, hoped I wouldn't be too hyped up to fall asleep, and went to bed.
Living so close to the bus pick-up meant I didn't have to leave the house until 8:20, which made my morning easy and relaxing. I fed the baby and hung out in bed for a while, got dressed, had something to eat, painted my name on my shirt. I was feeling nervous but mostly just excited to get out there and start running (hopefully before the rain started).
At the Common, I loaded onto the bus and managed to get a seat for myself, where for the next 45 minutes I basically napped. This was great! I highly recommend pre-race napping.
By the time we got to the Athlete's Village in Hopkinton, it was cold and windy. This was one of the worst parts of the race--the hour or so of standing around in the cold, waiting to start. I spent most of that time in line for the bathroom (so many nervous pee-ers).
TOP TIP!: If I had known, I would have held onto my t-shirt (which I left in the donation bin in the village) until the race started. We spent a long, LONG time walking to the starting line, walking to our corral, waiting to start, and by the time they told us to go, I was totally soaked. I mean, it made me really want to run, but more in a "maybe this will help me feel my feet again" sort of way.
But eventually, we were corralled and ready. One last LET'S DO THIS photo to Dave, and we were off!
Having run most of the course already turned out to be really helpful. I remembered a lot of the hills and landmarks, so even with the mile markers, I felt a lot more prepared. Those first few miles were basically a madhouse of people running, during which I got passed by approximately three thousand people (not an exaggeration). I don't have any pictures because I was worried about my phone + the rain, but just imagine a constantly-bobbing mob of fluorescent backs, and that's basically it. Oh. Also. SO many people peeing. (Correction: so many men peeing. Come on, guys.)
For most of the time, I was so swept up in the giddiness of actually running the Boston Marathon that I was happy to let people pass me, but every now and then some idiot would throw elbows to get ahead. My favorites were the ones who would shout, "Coming through!" as though they were the only ones running and the rest of us were just, like, hanging out. I mean, I see your bib. Forth wave, man. No one's mistaking you for one of the elites (burn).
But really, they were rare, and by the time the crowd thinned out, it was a great run. I was pacing myself at 10 minute miles and feeling great. Most of the time I barely noticed the rain or the cold--I felt worse for the crowds who had to stand on the side and watch us.
Those crowds, by the way, are amazing. Everyone who's run Boston has said the crowds are the best, and I have to agree. There were many, many times I'd have my head down, feeling exhausted, only to hear someone shout, "CODMAN ACADEMY, YOU GOT THIS!" It was like instant pep-up.
The other thing that really helped was something my marathon-running brother-in-law said to me the night before. I'd been pretty nervous coming up to the day. Mentally, emotionally, physically--I was feeling tapped out and dreading having to actually run a marathon. When I sort of alluded to this, he said that the marathon was really the culmination of all that training. The hard, boring part was done. Running the marathon, seeing those crowds--that was the victory lap.
It totally changed my perspective on the day. I'm pretty sure this is the only marathon I'll ever run, and the whole time I was running, I kept thinking, "This is it. Enjoy it. Enjoy all these crowds cheering you on and this feeling of accomplishment."
As a result, this was how I looked pretty much the whole run:
I felt so good! I mean, in a "this is painful and I would like it to be over" sort of way. I was worried about a few things--how the weather would make me feel, if my notoriously diva-like ankle would act up, the dreaded GI distress--but everything worked out great. I was eating and drinking regularly and keeping warm, and seeing folks at regular intervals gave me something to run to.
Like Dave and my baby at 14 miles! And the Codman folks at 20 miles! They were great and even made me a sign:
My parents showed up at the scream tunnel in BC at 21 miles, just after Heartbreak Hill (which I took at a run, thank you very much).
After that, it was basically a straight shot into Boston. This was the toughest/best part of the day. My body was totally spent--my legs felt like sacks of wet flour, and every time I smelled someone barbecuing, I wanted to jump the barrier and ask for a hot dog.
I'd see the signs--five more miles, four more miles, three more miles--and kept telling myself "Just fifty more minutes! Forty more minutes! Thirty more minutes!" It was SO painful. I forced myself to run, not walk, but there was one second where my focus slipped and suddenly I was walking, like my body said "Nope. No thanks."
But at just about two miles, we crossed the "Welcome to Boston" sign, and I knew: this was my city, I was almost done, and I was going to run.
A few minutes later, I got a lovely surprise: Dave and the baby, watching me from the bridge into Kenmore Square!:
Up ahead, I could see it: the Citgo sign, the one-mile marker, and the Pru.
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| photo from REUTERS |
I almost wish I had taken a picture, because it was absolutely amazing. HUGE crowds, everyone cheering, a wide road filled with exhausted, happy runners. I've walked on that street so many times in my life, but I've never seen it like that, and the dark clouds overhead and tall buildings on either side made me feel like I was running in some crazy dream. I sprinted to the end, and then, just like that, it was over--26.2 miles, five hours of running, and I was DONE.
The rain was pouring, the wind was blowing, and all I could think about was getting home (where I discovered that we had no hot water, and so Dave and my parents had to boil up kettles of water, pioneer-style).
I spent all yesterday in a stiff, achy haze, but now I'm pretty much back to normal and can take a second to think about what I really did.
I ran a marathon.
That is crazy.
I also raised over $3000 for an amazing and worthwhile cause (which could still use your support if you're so inclined!).
I trained in terrible weather, when I was sick, when I was tired, when the baby kept me up all night, when Dave had to work all day. I discovered I was capable of a lot more than I would have thought. I had really wonderful moments and really terrible moments, and this has been a journey that I would not have traded for anything.
And to you, who read this blog and supported me in ways small and large, thank you. Your texts, emails, phone calls, and good vibes kept me going when things were tough. I hope reading about my experience as the slowest runner in Boston has inspired you (because if I can run a marathon, literally anyone can).
I don't know when I'll get back to running again, but my whole perspective has totally changed. I'm still sort of in that "I RAN A MARATHON. I CAN ACHIEVE ANYTHING!!!!" state of mind, and it's still crazy to think that I just decided one day: hey, I'm going to do this, and hey, I did.
Thank you again.
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