The Boston Marathon is truly legendary. It was an unforgettable experience that lived up to every bit of the hype and proved to be a marathon of many firsts for me.
I had no problems getting to the start from where I was staying in Braintree. I didn't take the BAA shuttles because they left too early. Instead, Dad and I left the Sheraton around 8:00am and arrived at Hopkinton State Park just before 9am where he dropped me off and I boarded one of the yellow school busses to be transported to the start line. The bus ride was rather pleasant and filled with nervous energy. It only took about 5 minutes. Upon arriving in Hopkinton, I took care of some business, drank some water, tried to take in the atmosphere of my first Boston Marathon, and then took a brief warmup to and from the baggage drop area. After some gentle stretching, I made my way to corral 3. By this time it was about 9:40am. The wheelchair race had started and the elite women were already running. We were set to start at 10am. Right about the time I took my place at the start, the overcast and cloudy skies started to part and the air began to warm. I removed my long sleeve warmup shirt and tossed it to the side. I started thinking about how it might have been a good idea to wear sunglasses.
After standing for a bit, we were finally off. The race had started and I knew I wanted to come out very conservative for the first half. I settled into what I thought was a good comfortable pace in the early downhill. I was being passed by hundreds, maybe even thousands of people, but knew that if I stayed controlled, it would be fun to start picking off people past the half-way point, and especially in the hills. The Boston course is very unforgiving. The downhill causes lots of damage and fatigue in the legs, and right when things start getting tough, the course enters the Newton hills and gets even tougher. It looks easy on paper, or so I thought, but the setup can quickly lead to disaster if you're not careful. Through the entire first half of the race, I ran about as steady as one can run. Each 5k was within seconds of 23:00 for a 7:25/mi pace. Steady, comfortable. I was amazed to see how many spectators line the course. There wasn't an empty spot anywhere along the 26.2 miles. Lots of families through the first smaller towns. Many giving out orange slices, water, Otter pops, and other things. Kids standing with outstretched hands, waiting for the waves of runners to give them high fives on their way by. We made our way from Hopkinton, to Ashland, Framingham, Natick, and into Wellesley. Wellesley marks the half-way point, and it was here where I was going to pick up the pace. As we made our way in, you could hear the Wellesley girls from a good ways back. And as I entered the area next to campus, the feeling was incredible. I have never felt like the crowd was carrying me until now. Running felt effortless and I felt so light, like I was being lifted from my feet. The Wellesley girls were so loud, but not deafening. It was powerful. It's hard to describe, but it was probably the best part along the course other than turning on Boylston St. Many girls were holding signs that said, "Kiss Me" and I guess they keep a tally on who can get the most runners to stop and give them kisses. A guy near me stopped to kiss five, and was bragging about it as we left the area. It was quite the experience and got me pretty pumped about kicking it into a higher gear.
I passed the half-way point and started to speed up. Mile 14 in 6:51. Mile 15 in 6:45. Mile 16 in 6:43. Mile 17 in 6:57 which marked entering the Newton hills. I was just starting to settle into this faster pace when the hills approached. Mile 18 in 7:00. Oops! This was probably a bit too aggressive because the first of three main hills was here. I think this first hill was the worst (Lance Armstrong agrees). After running pretty much all downhill or flat, this was a test on the legs and I attacked. I thought I should back off a bit in the next hills if I wanted to have anything left for the end. It was a good idea. As soon as we hit the first hill, people started blowing up. I had been passing people for the last 4-5 miles when I picked up my pace, and it felt good to finally start making my way up through the pack. The change of elevation caused many people to start cramping and walking. I kept pushing on, but I was definitely worried that it might happen to me at any moment. Especially trying to sidestep or make my way around slower traffic. The first hill was behind me. Miles 20 and 21 brought the next two, the last of which is the infamous Heartbreak Hill. But I knew (or hoped), I would find my family and friends at the top around the 21-mile mark. I hadn't seen my dad or Justin near the 16-17-mile area, and it turns out they were about 5 minutes too late getting there. I was hoping to see people I knew at 21 and that's what helped me up that hill. I reached the top of Heartbreak, saw my mom and ran over to get my water bottle from her. I was exhausted, abused, and worn down, but I knew I had a tough road ahead of me. Here the course turns and goes back downhill. This is painful and many more started pulling up stiff-legged with cramps. I wasn't going to stop. I kept thinking that no matter how bad things felt, if I stopped I would feel worse and never get going again. Here I turned to something I learned in training. Let your arms drive your legs. I wanted to stop, and for the first time I didn't. I started pumping my arms and not thinking about my legs. Drive the arms and everything will follow. It will all be over soon. Run to 23, eat your last gel, and finish. Pump the arms and run. That's exactly what I did. Entering the city area was surreal, and turning onto Boylston was amazing. The crowds were lined ten deep or more. The noise and support were equal to that being given to an elite athlete. I felt like I was important to them, and they honestly wanted to see me finish and finish strong. I moved out to the right side where I had run during much of the race and kept pumping my arms. I was passing people, lots of people and I'm not sure if anyone was passing me. And finally, it was done. 3:10:14. I hit my qualifying time and can come back next year. I was in pain, but full of pride. I felt like I had joined an exclusive group, and that felt good.
This is the first marathon I didn't stop to walk in (other than water stops). I had the thoughts, but let my arms do the running and I think that helps tremendously. This is also the first marathon I ran a negative split. And for that to come on a course like Boston is truly an accomplishment. Looking back, I'm not sure I could have run much faster (maybe a minute or two on the first half without affecting my second half). I initially wanted about a 7:40/mi first half and 6:40/mi second half. Then I thought that switch of gears would be too much. And trying to slow to 7:40/mi on the initial downhills may have been too much. I had a very strong race. My slowest mile was 21 with Heartbreak taking up half the mile. This was 7:54. My fastest was 16 in 6:43. This race turned out to be an invaluable learning experience for me as far as judging races based on maps and profiles, race planning and strategy, and execution and discipline.
Some other notes, my HR seemed high for the pace I was running (high 160's for a 7:25 pace downhill?). I'm not sure if this means I had too much taper and my system wasn't ready or what. I didn't feel sluggish. I also tried to eat a lot of iron in the days leading up to the race and pasta at lunch instead of dinner. My dinner the night before this race consisted of a small serving of salmon, with some risotto and spinach (as well as some bread). I need to come up (or stick to) a better hydration plan. I do a good job in the initial parts of the race but get too focused later on. I was having some forearm cramps near the end and felt the initial little onset of spasms in my calves. This would have been a disaster.
I am blessed to once again have absolutely no joint pain after the marathon. Of course every muscle in my legs are sore. Soleus, calves, and hamstrings, are sore. Quads are very sore and tender to slight pressure.
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