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2019 Race Recap #7: Boston Marathon

It has taken me all week to gather my thoughts for this race. I admit, I was excited about running, but I didn’t expect the sheer emotion of the finish. It was a hard race – it was 26.2 miles after all – but it was the finish that I didn’t expect.

Having alternately grown up near/not-far-from the later stages of the course, and having spent some formative years in and around the earlier stages of the course, this was seeing the area in a much different way. Various memories came back to me along the course. This is an experience I will not soon forget.

First, this is a story of “home field advantage.” Since the marathon is a point-to-point event, most runners start in Boston and take the BAA buses to Hopkinton. This means you’re staying in the city (very expensive!) and you have few amenities with you at the race. You can bring their clear plastic bag to the runner village, but that’s it. My running club, on the other hand, charters a bus to the runner’s village in Hopkinton, gets two hotel rooms in Boston, and charters the bus from Boston back home. While you’re awaiting your start, you can stay on the bus (and out of the elements), use the on board bathroom, etc. You can also have access to your stuff. So as we were walking to the starting corrals, all dressed for our races, everyone who had come in from Boston were walking around in shoes covered with plastic bags, slogging through the mud to get to the porta-potties, shedding unwanted layers into “donation” piles. It had stopped raining while we were en route to the start, so by the time we were walking to the starting line, we were dry and comfortable. Others? Not so much.

A few weeks previous, we took part in the BAA’s final organized rehearsal run for the race – “HOP21” – where we ran from the starting line in Hopkinton to Boston College, the first 21 miles of the race. It was a pleasant day and I hit a very comfortable stride. I was confident that I could get this race done in less than 4-hours. Perhaps even 3:45 if the stars aligned.

The stars did not align.

At the start it was roughly 45-50 degrees and overcast. Actually, quite perfect marathon running weather. I felt good and comfortable, in no small measure due to the above treatment I’m sure. By the time I hit Framingham though, the clouds were beginning to part and the sun was coming out. By Natick, it was full on sunny and beautiful – an otherwise gorgeous day – but for a runner in a marathon, it was draining. Oh, and I had to poop something awful.

For the majority of the course from that point, it was glorious and I was happy I went with the choice of shorts and running singlet. It was the first time in months that I had run in something so minimal, and it was glorious. I’m fast enough that I can be reasonably competitive, but not so fast that I can’t appreciate my surroundings to some degree, so I saw some friends near the start, and some others a little further down, high-fived some kids along the course.

HELPFUL HIT, NEWS PHOTOGS: Don’t take those happy reunion pics by setting up on the course, or you will likely get knocked over. Sorry dude, it’s a race I paid quite a bit to run and your picture is not my priority.

The scream tunnel at Wellesley College was not anything I expected at all. That’s not wholly true, I mean I’ve seen the course videos and read enough to know what was there, but experiencing the enthusiasm was just next level. That was great fun.

As I got to the half-marathon point, I knew my family would be coming up soon. They were going to be at about mile 17, somewhere near Route 9 and I-95. I was really starting to struggle a bit, but no sooner had I found that I was slowing down, I looked at my watch to see I was coming up to mile 16 so I would be seeing them soon. When I looked up, I saw a poster sized picture of myself being held up. They were a lot closer than I anticipated and it was exactly what I needed when I needed it. Running club friends, work, school friends and my family. As I ran by, I was able to high five everyone. Almost a week later, writing this, I’m still welling up in tears. This display of support meant the world to me and is something I will take to my grave as one of the most meaningful gestures of my life.

A little further down the street at the I-95 overpass, as that high started to wane, I ran into some childhood friends who called out some (unusually) supportive words and that lifted me for a little down past the country club and hospital. From there it became an exercise in endurance and willpower.

Now, for the better part of 10-miles, I really needed a bio-break. At every opportunity, I looked for porta-potties. For 10-miles each bank of them had a line of some size, and as long as I felt like I could keep it together I wasn’t going to wait in a line – I’m running a race after all. As I got to the fire station in Newton, not far from the start of heartbreak hill, I saw my opportunity. There were a bunch of them, and vacant! I ran over, opened the door and…. yeah, whomever was there previously had not only peed all over the seat, but left a nice little…..well, I’d say nugget, but it wasn’t that solid. Thanks ace.

So I did my obligatory cleaning, and took care of my business, but I couldn’t get everything back into the compression shorts quite the same way. It was going to be another 7-miles or so getting chaffed and otherwise flopping around. Much better than the alternative I submit. I did lose a couple of minutes with that break, but I have to say I rationalize it by assuming had I let it go, I wouldn’t have finished.

By heartbreak hill, I was scuffing. Some guy was handing out Bud Lights, so I took one, drank some for calories, poured a bunch over my head and chucked it. I already knew my time goal was toast so may as well have some fun.

Long about mile 23, the clouds started to come together and it got much cooler. The wind picked up and it was not unpleasant. Had I not just run 20-someodd miles, I’m sure I would have been cold, but since I had it was perfect and refreshing. That said, it really didn’t help me pick up the pace, but it did keep it from getting worse. There were portions of the next 3 miles that I just could not run at all, I just had to walk. Sometimes I look at these moments as gut checks, and I can will myself to get back at it. This was not one of those times.

Mile 25. ALMOST THERE. Annnnd the sky opens up. Of course. I was struggling with pace. I knew I was near the end, I could see the blue line painted on the street indicating the final mile, but I just could not will myself to move. I made the turn onto Herreford and then the final turn onto Boylston, and could see the finish line and yet I could not run. I could not will myself to move any faster than the shuffle at which I was moving.

And then…and then I saw that familiar poster board from Mile 16-ish. My old friend and his daughter were at the finish for me. I moved as fast as I could over to them, hugged him, and he gave me a t-shirt. I’ll never forget this as long as I live, he then said “Now, go finish your race.”

I took off as fast as I could, looked at the shirt – it says “I’m Not Dead Yet” – and headed for the finish. As I crossed the line, I held the shirt over my head. I am not dead yet. Didn’t die. Didn’t finish last.

RESULTS

Pace	Official Time	Overall	Gender	Age Group
0:09:23	4:05:47	17841	10746	1940

And we wait…

I’ve written a lot of race recaps over the last – say – 16 months or so, but I don’t think I’ve written very much at all about a pre-race. A few pieces leading up to the Marine Corps Marathon in October perhaps, but I don’t think I’ve written anything discussing an upcoming race – feelings, anticipated results, anything like that. To that point, I’ve written nothing about the 2019 Boston Marathon in the lead up to April 15. Nothing. The biggest race of my life and I’ve written nothing.

Everything is ready to go. All there is to do now is wait.

I’ve been working toward this race since January. My running club receives an allocation of time-waived bibs for the Marathon, distributed on the basis of volunteer points earned via working various club events. When I had been injured at various points last year, a friend of mine had suggested that volunteering at races was a good way to keep my head in the game, “good karma.” When the accounting came back that I had a chance to earn a bib, I took that chance….

…and wound up on the waiting list.

I had never considered running the Boston Marathon. Like ever. And before I entered the lottery for the Marine Corps Marathon last March, I never considered actually running a marathon. Clearly, then, this was not a life long dream. It was never really anything that had entered my mind…until it did. And as soon as I found I had come up that much short – number 2 on the waiting list – I was deflated. So close…to something I had never realized I wanted.

Then, I was number 1 on the waiting list…and then I was offered the last bib. And there it was. I had been offered entry to the Boston Marathon. Likely the only marathon I would be interested in running. I mean…Boston, right?

So after several months of training, long runs, races, all that, the day is here. There are so many personal stories attached to this race from so many people I know, many to the day six years ago when bombs went off at the finish line. Many far less painful, but just as meaningful. All meaningful, all emotional. I ran the Hop21, BAA official rehearsal run wit h my club in March and it was at that point I began really getting the vibe of the race.

On Friday, the first day of the runners’ expo, I went with another club member to pick up our bibs. The atmosphere was electric. I’m physically ready – I was probably in better shape in October, and certainly weighed less, but my conditioning is probably better – and to this point I’d kept my emotions in check, but I’ve been raring to go since the expo.

And my club friends? They’re all amped up too. So many of us are running for the first time. A good number aren’t. Everyone seems as excited. The adrenaline is pumping.

The only thing to do now is wait, and then run. I can’t wait.

28 Days of Inspiration – Day 21

Patrick Downes & Jessica Kensky and Adrianne Haslet-Davis

On April 15, 2013 their lives changed. While at the finish line of the Boston Marathon, then recently married and Boston area natives, Patrick and Jessica were there to enjoy the day. It was that day they became victims of the Tsarnaev brothers first bomb in their bombing attack.

It was that day Adrianne fell victim to the second bomb in the attack, opening her eyes to find her left ankle and foot missing. A professional dancer, she was looking at her life’s work and direction irrevocably changed in an instant

This year they demonstrated ridiculous resilience when Patrick became the first marathon bombing survivor to come back to the race and finish it on foot. Through it all, Patrick and Jessica have stayed together and become stronger. Three years after the attacks, Jessica is still undergoing surgeries. He’s lost a leg. She’s a double amputee. This is still a fresh wound for them both. Adrianne also lost a leg and took up running because of her injuries – not in spite of them.

usa-athletics-boston-marathon — Patrick raising his arm to approach the finish line. From the NY Daily News.

Patrick didn’t know it, but he finished the race at just about the time the bombs first went off that fateful day completing the race in 5:56:46

“[When I first started] learning how to use the blade, I made a pact with myself that I would at least try to run. I [thought], ‘Gosh, this blade is so difficult to use,’ so I decided to make it a challenge that I would overcome.” Adrianne Haslet-Davis

Adrianne too was at the 2015 Boston Marathon, as a dance performer at the finish line. This year it took her about 10-hours to run her race. Less than a year after the bombing, she performed on Dancing with the Stars. From the beginning she knew she was in for a challenge. She accepted it, and worked on advancing. She did not quit.

Neither were runners previously but have used their life experience. All of them could have easily succumbed to the ease of “giving up.” They could have easily have made excuses for themselves, to feel sorry for their condition, to allow themselves to hate the Tsanaevs for what had happened to them.

When you focus on hate, you don’t allow yourself to grow, to change, to rise above. All three of these people have risen to become more powerful, more inspirational than they were before. Patrick was running to raise money – $250,000 – to fully endow a scholarship for disabled students. Adrianne was running to raise money for Limbs for Life, a charity for providing prosthetics for those who cannot afford them.

JUST IN: #BostonMarathon Survivor, leg amputee & dancer Adrianne Haslet crosses finish line@cbsboston pic.twitter.com/QpTjoaqwpD

— Chantee Lans WBZ (@ChanteeLans) April 18, 2016

There is nothing routine about completing a marathon. There is nothing routine about experiencing life changing circumstances, and resolving to accept the challenge. There is nothing routine about accomplishing goals and then setting them higher. It takes mental fortitude, resilience, and commitment. And ANYONE can do it, but not everyone does.