Boston Marathon Race Report 4/19/05

[Daphne M]

Now that I've been there, I finally understand the Boston mystique. Up until Monday, I felt like the Accidental BQer. [Note to non-obsessed runners: to “BQ” is to “Boston qualify.” You have to run faster than a certain time on a certified BQ marathon course to qualify to go to Boston. The times are different for men and women and get easier by 5-year increments as you age up.]

Going to Boston was not a goal for me in 2005. I didn't think I was good enough, didn't think I'd worked hard enough, didn't think I really deserved to go -- yet. I liked having Boston as a stretch goal. It was something I might achieve in a year or two with consistent hard work. So when I qualified at the Richmond Marathon in 2004, I was thrilled with my finishing time and my race execution, but the whole "You're Going to Boston!" thing threw me for a loop. I was able to come up with a million reasons not to go. I like small, uncomplicated races. At Boston, there are 20,000 runners, it's a big city race with complicated logistics, it starts in the middle of the day, it's been hot the last couple of years, it falls on a work day, it cuts into family time and activities and budget, and so forth and so on.

But all those reasons were outweighed. In my heart, I felt it would be disrespectful to the history and tradition of Boston NOT to go. Plus, if I went I could wear that cool jacket, represent the awesome individuals in my running club and provide support for my friend Stephanie, who also would be running Boston for the first time. In the end, as ridiculous as this is, I signed up to run the Boston Marathon out of a sense of duty. I honestly expected to have a miserable race. (See above, 20,000 runners, hot, complicated, late start, whine whine whine, etc.) I figured I could make the experience a little less miserable if I incorporated lots of serious uphills and downhills on my long training runs. I tried to simulate the anticipated heat by running in extra layers of clothes, turning the heat up when I did my bike + trainer workouts at home, even turning the heat up in my car on days that already were plenty warm. Then I pulled my sacral-lumbar something or other in March and was sidelined for three and a half weeks. No running, no cycling, no lifting, no swimming, no yoga, no nothing. I missed four key long runs. No worries for me! Instead I found comfort in Oreos and beer. I was able to successfully gain 8 pounds!

I also was able to start exercising again about three weeks before Boston. That week, my training plan recommended I run a total of 30 miles over 4 days. Instead I ran 14 miles in 2 days. During those 14 miles, a lot of things were jiggling that weren't supposed to be. The following week, I ran twice and the second run was a 20-miler. The first half of the 20 miles took me 90 minutes. The second half took me 105 minutes. I would have quit at mile 18, but I had to get back to my car somehow. As bad as that run was, it prepared me well. It gave me a realistic assessment of my stamina. I knew I would have a huge positive split at Boston, but I also knew that I would finish no matter what. It was what it was, there was nothing I could do now, so I stopped worrying about it.

I guess that lack of worry was accompanied by a lack of preparation and focus, which explains why I found myself standing in the wrong pair of running shorts at 5:45 a.m. on marathon Monday on my way to breakfast and the shuttle bus. The pair I thought I had packed have several mesh pockets across the back. I kept trying to push my gels into those mesh pockets, but I couldn't seem to locate them. I tried twisting my head for a visual confirmation of the pockets and ended up turning round and round like a dog chasing its tail. (A crazed dog that talks to itself.) Thank goodness for my friend Gail who’d gotten up early to see me off. She watched me spinning in circles and muttering to myself and asked if she could help. Thirty seconds later, Gail was standing in the hotel room with no pants on and I was wearing her lycra shorts -- with mesh pockets. I felt honored to run in her shorts.

And that's just how Boston went for me. I had a couple of major disasters out there, but someone always stepped in to save me from myself. At mile 10, I dropped the bandana I use to wipe the sweat out of my eyes. One mile later, a bystander handed me a paper towel, which I held on to for the rest of the race. I lost the ibuprofen I carry and always take at mile 13. Three miles later, my quads completely trashed, I ran into a medical tent, was given ibuprofen and water and was back on the course in less than ten seconds. It was in the 70s, warm and sunny, but there was an aid station every single mile and I was able to stay comfortable by pouring a cup and a half of water on my head and face at every mile. Kids cheered for me, old ladies cheered for me, Elvis cheered for me and so did Sinatra. The guys at the biker bar cheered for me. A family cheered for me even as I ran behind their parked car to pee. The girls of Wellesley cheered for me and I could hear them for 10 minutes before I even got there. (Note to self: schedule pregnancy test after running the Wellesley gauntlet.) A row of preschoolers jumping up and down on a dozen mini-tramps cheered for me. Right before I hit the hills in Newton, I heard my name and saw my friends Dan, Gail and Monica screaming for me. An old guy ran partway up Heartbreak Hill with me, screaming at me and my fellow runners, "Come on and run, you crazy bastards!" I high-fived a million cute kids and felt terrible when I splashed a little girl with Gatorade. There were spectators in every yard and the closer I got to Boston the wilder it got. My legs were so stiff, I felt as if I were running with tiny baby steps, I was hot and nauseous and exhausted and my borrowed lycra bike shorts repeatedly rolled up my leg, but I just kept running. By the time I turned the corner onto Boylston Street and saw the finish line, all I wanted to do was cross it and walk -- but I didn't want it to end. The thing that got to me was those people really were cheering for ME. Twelve thousand runners crossed the finish line before me on Monday, but the spectators were cheering as if I were the first one of the day. They understood the marathon and that course the same way most Americans understand professional sports. They knew where the hard parts were on the course and they showed their respect for us every step of the way. I thanked every volunteer and spectator I could and they all responded the same way, "Thank YOU for coming here and running." It’s a dream and I would have pinched myself -- but the shorts were doing that for me.

After I got my blanket and food and finishers medal and got my chip removed, I left the finishers chute and two little girls about my daughter's age walked up to me and asked me for my autograph. Can you believe that? So now when people say Boston is the pinnacle, I know what they're talking about. It was the GREATEST.

As for my race execution and pacing strategy and so forth -- there was none. I ran with no goal other than to finish. Because it was in the 70s and the sun was strong, I concentrated on pouring water on my head to stay cool and sipping Gatorade in small amounts. At miles 5, 9, 14, 19 and 23, I took a gel and water. I ran (very slowly) rather than walked through the aid stations because I was afraid walking might cause my quads to cramp. I tried to make myself stop smiling because it dried out my mouth. The course is tough in ways I did not expect – it’s not the uphills that get you, it’s the downhills that put icepicks in your quads that slow you down. My finish time was 4:14, which is 21 minutes slower than my best marathon time, but honestly, given my screwed-up training, much better than I had any right to expect. My only regret is that my friend Stephanie had a tough day out there and we missed each other out on the course. I guess we'll both have to go back so we can rectify that. Boston is awesome.

THE END.

[Daphne M]

The photos are pretty tiny, but give you some idea of the day. I'm wearing a bright blue tank and black shorts and my hair is in a ponytail.

http://www.marathonfoto.com/order_my...BFI=mx2g42gqxh

Note-- I can't seem to get the link to work. It works when I open my browser and go to it, but doesn't work when I cut and paste it in here. I don't know how to get around it and I'm sorry.

[Daphne M]

Finally, one last time, I want to thank tytbody, who was providing her professional massage services at the race. I didn't get to meet her this year, but I'll be looking for her if I get to go back in 2006!

[Ltljen101]

Wow, Daphne. Thanks so much for sharing. Sounds like it was an absolutely incredible experience (one I'll never know, ha, ha!).

You should be so proud. I think if it was me, I would need to walk around with a sign on my forehead that said, "I ran the Boston Marathon," for a few weeks, at least!

Jen

ETA: So you didn't have a problem with Heartbreak Hill?!

[Aline]

Wow! I am so impressed that you qualified to go there and bounced back quickly from an injury to run so fast in those hills. "Heartbreak Hill" must be like nothing that exists in the DC area and you conquered it and the course too.

That must have been a lot of spectators to line the whole course with wall to wall cheering from start to finish. I'm not sure what the "Wellesley Gauntlet" is or what it has to do with pregnancy, but it sounds like it's all good.

[Daphne M]

Hi Jen:

Heartbreak Hill was fine. I am fortunate to live in an area that is reasonably hilly, so I am used to running hills. Heartbreak didn't feel like the toughest hill on the course to me. I guess it's a race killer because it's the fourth one in a quick succession of hills and it comes at mile 21. There was one hill right before I got to Newton and turned right at the firehouse that really winded me and it felt harder than Heartbreak to me. Luckily, none of the numerous hills took more than a few minutes to run up. In fact, I didn't realize I was on the official Heartbreak Hill until I crested it and there was a huge balloon at the top that said Heartbreak. The hard part is that the first 16 miles have some uphills, but overall you are running downhill for long stretches. Your quads get tighter and tighter. It's hard to train for that.

Are you enjoying the spring weather and running? Are you thinking about doing another race anytime soon?

[Marian]

Daphne, excellent race report - I couldn't add anything other to say that I agree that I felt like everyone of those supporters were yelling for me (it helps to have your name written down the side of your arm ). I think what makes Boston so hard is that it's much hillier the second half. Anyone of those hills in Newton would be OK, but not four in a row, after running 17 miles! But nothing beats when you finally enter Boston proper and turn that corner and see the finish line - what a thrill.

I hope to see you at many more Bostons!

Marian

[Deb_B]

Congratulations Daphne & Marian!!

The story that I heard is that it got the name Heartbreak Hill from one time that the race was lost on that hill. I think that was, again, where the race was decided for the first place female this year.

Deb

[Deanna]

I loved reading your report, Daphne . What a wonderful accomplishment.

Congratulations to you, Marian, I hope you'll soon be writing a race report too .

[cmiyachi]

Daphne - thanks for the great description. And congratulations on qualifying and finishing the race.

I live in the Boston area and when in high school I hopped in the race in Framingham and ran for about ten miles. What you describe is what I remember - it was wild with tons of spectators, bands playing, a lot of energy to keep you going. BTW - it was the year that Rosie Ruiz "won" by riding the subway.

On the flip side, I ran the Cape Cod Marathon in 1988. It was 13 mile loops around the Hyannis area. I didn't train right. The first loop was fun with lots of participants. I ran it 1:40!!! The second loop had barely any participants and absolutely no spectators. I finished in just under 5 hours - I walked the last 6-7 miles. I didn't do any long runs in my training - and it showed!

But with no spectators and in February - that marathon had no excitement - Boston would be a lot funner I think.

Anyway - congratulations again! Amazing!