Boston 2018

Boston 2018…. what a day!

Yeah, there was a lot rain. It was cold. And the wind! Holy cow. I loved how it got stronger as we ran further along. That was fantastic! ;)  So, it was definitely not great running weather, at least not for those hoping to race their best race ever. Fortunately, for me I was not one of those people.  

I could write about the stress Boston causes me. But I would rather not. That is personal to me. For context, I can share at least that I was there in 2013. I have recurring stress each year that impacts my ability to function and is triggered by this race and everything related to it. I would like to not think about it, but as a marathon coach, it is hard to get away from being tagged, emailed, messaged, texted etc from people who don't know me well enough to know to please not message me, tag me, text me, email me asking me about my plans and whether I am racing.  The reality is each year I am battling to get there and I just don't know if I will win. 

But that is all I need to say. There is no reason to take a great experience and turn into something else. 

I am a streak runner. I am always running. I haven't missed a day of running since 2011, BUT that is not the same training to race a marathon. Marathon training is hard.

About 4 weeks ago, I started racing again (with a 5k) just for fun while I work on getting back in the flow of training. At this stage, all I am doing is showing up and pinning on a bib while I work on building my endurance again. I can still cover distance, but just not like I used to. I am heavier than I would like to be when racing.

I almost didn’t go. In fact, I was sure I wasn't going. I told everyone who I tell my personal business to (my #Top5) that I was definitely, absolutely not going. I canceled plans with Elizabeth who was going to come with me and told her to not come b/c I wasn't going.

I believed that f I just decided to NOT go, then maybe I could sleep. Maybe I could relax. Maybe the stress would disappate... but there was this little voice in the back of my mind, maybe it was coming more from deep within my heart, that whispered over and over to me "..but you know you want to be there.."  (and besides I do this every single year and decide I am NOT going, then go... except for last year when I strained my achilles). 

... and then leading up to the race this little girl, Sheena, who lives in Boston right along the course, asked if she could use my FB profile picture to make a collage about runners for a class project to show during her school's visit from Katherine Switzer.  When this little girl thinks of a runner, she thinks of me. Omg, how could I not go to Boston now! 

The only disappointing part of Boston for me was that due to the weather being brutal, I missed my chance give Sheena a hug along the way but that was my fault. I missed my start.

I had a fantastic bib. I worked so hard for that bib. I had a 2:55 qualifier. But I am not in that type of shape. Rather than start in Wave 1, Corral 3, my plan was to dress warm an dry, drop to the back of my corral, run 10:00 miles the whole way, and have a great time  I had shared that info with Michele before I headed off to the race.

My wave was to take off at 10:00 am, but for some reason ;)  Kim and I had a little trouble motivating ourselves to get out of my warm car and onto the bus to the start to hang around in the rain. We ended up arriving outside the Village at 9:40 am. By the time we got close to actually using a portopotty it was already 9:55. I was not planning to rush to get in my Wave, just to watch them all run off into the distance as I chased behind them calling "hey guys! wait for me!"... so I let it go and I dropped back to the middle of wave 2, which was still too fast for me, but a little more reasonable.  I didn't get trampled.

With the hard rain falling, my phone wrapped in two ziplock bags, my hands wrapped in two layers of mittens, I was not able to text Michele to let her know my plans had changed. I hoped she would figure it out from the tracking.

The emotions of the day were strong. I feel like this caused me some pain. Maybe I am just that out of shape or maybe my this was some odd defense mechanism at play... just my mind trying to convince me to just get off the course. "Just stop running. You should not be here!"  Before I even get to mile 1 at 8:15 pace my shins were cramping badly. I just ran a very very hilly 20k at 8:24 pace, finishing that race in sub-8 pace, no shin pain. Here at M1, I am in plain? Mile One! There is no reason why I can't run downhill at 8:15 pace for a little while…. but I simply could not and my shins were on fire. 

All I could think was "OMG, this is M1! I bought way too many Boston 2018 things! I never buy things! I need to finish this race even if I walk!"  By M2, everything felt terrible and by M3 I was walking.  Then I stopped to try to do some dynamic stretching to loosen up my shins. I knew nothing was wrong physically, but I needed to convince myself that this IS happening. I am here. I am running this, well... “running (used loosely)” ... no matter how long it takes.

After walking a little, my left shin started to unsieze and I felt hopeful. Soon the right was loosened as well.  Finally I was able to start running again. I wan’t looking at my watch because time did not matter. I just needed to perserve at whatever pace I felt I wanted to run.

I wished I had seen Rory's (Sheena's brother) sign because he captured my feeling exactly! 

"Run like You Want To!"  I was definitely doing that!

Being in no rush, I stopped at a portpotty to try to adjust my gear. I had my phone in my capri pocket wrapped in two bags and I was worried it was getting wet.  It took more time than I expected to get myself organized.

"Run like you want to!"

I knew I was able to run non-stop the entire way. The last marathon I ran was Jan and then my training stopped short.  The longest non-stop hard run I have run was the 20k last weekend and that really isn’t much help. I had no business expecting to run 26.2M, so rather than run as far as I could and crash and burn in the hills, I took the opposite approach. I used the first 8-10 miles as my warm up and once ready to go, I ran the rest of the way in non-stop, with the point being to NOT walk through the newton, and heartbreak, hills.

It fell so amazing to run those those rollers and get stronger and stronger as the race proceeded on. I see runners who were clearly underdressed getting carted off to the med tent or walking with mylar wraps. I did feel bad for those who trained their hearts out and had a weather-related meltdown.

Once over Heartbreak Hill, I felt victorious. I knew I would be able to run the rest of the way in. I negative split Boston by 12 minutes. My body felt good. I was warm, but comfortable. I was moving well through the finish and feeling grateful that I did not let anyone or anything stop me from attending this race.

At 2:49 pm, just as my foot hit the finish line in 4:19, just under 10:00 pace, the announcer stated that at that exact time 5 years ago, several lives were lost due to the bombing attacks and a moment of silence was called for. It was amazing to hit the finish line just in time to pay respects and to honor the lives lost. And then there was a moment where I realized someone was in my exact place 5 years earlier, crossing the line at this exact time and that is just a very emotional thought.  I walk through the finishers area in tears. Everything felt surreal.

I collected my medal, snack, and mylar cape. I took the bus back to my car that was parked in Hopkinton. I change clothes in my car and drove 4.5 hour straight home to NJ. 

I am so grateful that I went. I left knowing that I have to come back. I left knowing it will be just as challenging for me as it always is each and every year. It doesn't get better. It seems to feel harder each year, not easier.  If I can return, I would like to.