By: Ben H.
By: Ben H.
GENERAL
WORRIES
So there I was, a soon to be 51 year old ex-punk rocker, on my way to Boston
for the marathon. I was not where I needed to be as far as race-ready,
not even close. Injuries had forced me to cut way back on my run mileage -
I was getting about 25 a week with no long run over 14 miles for the 12 weeks
prior to the race. I had pretty good fitness - been riding my bike,
swimming, and lifting, but just not enough miles in my legs and not enough long
runs. My worries were many - lack of conditioning, plantar fasciitis, shin
splints, a nagging cough kept at pretty much bay with copious amounts of Mucinex,
and of course the big one: Would the buses to Hopkinton have bathrooms?
BEFORE
I thought I'd write a report based somewhat on how to handle the logistics of
getting to, staying in, and getting around Boston. I could have used such information prior to my trip, although I admit I
managed okay without it.
I hate to fly, so I was dreading getting to
I used the lodging link on the race website and that worked great. I
signed up late, so they put me at one of the more remote hotels, the Westin
Waterfront, about 2 miles from the site. But I would stay there again in a
second. Only two years old, beautiful rooms, lots of high speed elevators,
flat screen TV's with a gazillion channels, a Starbucks in the lobby, etc.
And really, while it's not cheap, it wasn't that expensive for a big city
hotel during a high demand weekend. Highly recommended. And if you
stay there, I suggest eating all meals at LTK (Legal Test Kitchen), about a
quarter mile way. I had all three dinners there. Best grilled scrod
and grilled scallops ever.
Sunday,
the day before, I got to watch the Women's Olympic Trials for the marathon live
on the special seven loop course through downtown
RACE DAY
After another great night's sleep, I got down to the lobby around 5:45, grabbed
a coffee, and had the first big decision - how to get the to staging area to
catch a bus to Hopkinton. The choices were:
hotel shuttle
taxi
subway
There were already about 50 people in line for the shuttle - one bus which
supposedly held 25 people would be continuously making the run to Boston Common
and back. But this was rumored to be about a 25 minute round trip, depending.
Scratch this - I am not good waiting in lines, especially in a situation
like this.
Taxi might be the most expeditious, and I had a couple of twenties in my warm-up
clothes for this, but I would have felt "funny" jumping into a cab
with all the others waiting in line, so in a rare moment of self-consciousness,
I decided against that.
The subway station was about a three minute walk from the hotel's front door.
Then, it took two trains and only 15 minutes to get from the station to
Boston Common where the buses to Hopkinton were waiting for us. So that
was either a good, or lucky, call.
Walking with the other runners toward the buses was the Moment of Truth. Would
they have bathrooms? How could they not? You pack 60 people on a bus
for an hour or two first thing in the morning, they're all eating and drinking -
surely there's a bathroom at the rear of the bus, probably two. Carroll
Smith had told me horror stories about the 100th BM in 1996 - he said it was a
three hour ride from
Woke
up a little after 5:00, and in Hopkinton by 7:00 - amazing. Now there were
3 hours to kill before the start of the race. Everyone gathers at the
town's high school and the race organizers do an incredible job making sure
25,000 anxious runners are as well cared for as possible. Plenty of
coffee, water, bananas and bagels were available and I consumed large quantities
of all. The coffee was actually hot and good. Portalets as far as
the eye could see, some of which had flush mechanisms and sinks to wash up in,
and all of which were spotlessly clean. Once I got my own piece of dirt
under one of the big tents with a slice of cardboard for a cushion, I just
nibbled, sipped, read the paper and listened to my mp3 player. It was
still nippy at this time, maybe 45 degrees, and I was glad I had several layers
on.
It's
almost a one mile walk to the start Halfway there you find the right bus
and drop your warmup clothes off. I was assigned toward the rear of the
first of two waves (14,000 to start at 10:00, and the rest, maybe 12,000 start
at 10:30.) You can't move up in your wave, but you can move back, so I
just waited until there were only a few dozen left in the first wave and started
then, about 9 minutes after the gun went off. It doesn't matter since it's
chip timed. This strategy worked like a dream - I was never crowded during
the race, despite being one of 26,000 or so.
During the race my legs never felt right. They typically don't until I get
about 2 or 3 miles in, but they never came around. And my HR was sky high
as well. Nine days previous, Trevor and I ran 14 miles at about 8:15 pace, and I
felt great - the run was effortless. But here, I was running about 8:30
pace, my HR was 30 beats higher than it should have been, and I never got into
any kind of rhythm. Annoying! I had to play all the mental tricks
in my bag to get through this thing. I told myself that I could just do
the IronMan shuffle if it got bad enough later on. It did. Told
myself "It's more mental then physical" late in the race, and
you're strong mentally. Ah, partially true.
The
race, all 3:56 of it, was surreal, dreamlike. I absorbed the tremendous
crowd energy, and I think I was able to feed off of it, but I felt
strangely detached for most of the race. I can't recall much. I
remember mile 14, and saying, this is what Trevor and I did recently. I
remember mile 16, thinking okay, I did have a 16 miler way back in January.
And that was about it. There were some hills around 17 to 18 that
took a lot out of me. I think I took my first walking break around 19.
Heartbreak Hill at 20.5 seemed long, but not all that bad. I ran all
the way up it, but was not moving any too fast or smoothly. Turns out that
once you crest HH, it is downhills and flats the rest of the way (I think).
If I'd have felt good, I could have picked it up at this point, and
usually at mile 21 of a marathon, I feel decent. Great, no, but not
destroyed. And that is how I was. Just shredded. There were quite
a few walk breaks the last 5 miles, although I managed to hold them to about 30
seconds or so. But I had nothing left, and was not enjoying being passed
by half the field. I was doing the math from about 16 on, to see if I
could go sub 4:00. It was there for a while, then I felt sure it was
slipping away around 21 or so. Not until 25 was I pretty sure I would make
it. My slowest open marathon ever, by 27 minutes. At the finish of
the race, there was a little elation at finishing Boston, but it was 90% relief at being done. I was very shaky, more so
than after any other marathon or IronMan.
There
were two spots I really remember. The first is probably the obvious one - Wellesley
College. I began to hear the sound from about half a mile away, very faint, but a
distinct high pitched tone, that built very gradually. Then you get to
Wellesley and the girls are lined up for probably a quarter of a mile or so,
must be a thousand of them, screaming, cheering, wanting to slap palms, half of
them with signs saying Kiss Me. I didn't, but some of the guys did. For
an old man starting to really feel it halfway through a rough marathon, it was a
definite slice of heaven.
It's
not as sharp a memory, but I recall it was just very loud the last mile or two.
The crowds were thicker, and their cheers reverberated off the tall
buildings in downtown Boston. It seemed deafening, but in a strength giving way. Again, I just
wish I had had a little left at that point but I was running on fumes.
Oh
yeah - I also remember running for about 3 miles just ahead of this guy, Izzy.
Every 5 seconds it was "Go Izzy" from the crowd. I'm
thinking, is this guy the mayor of one of these towns or what? I look back
and he has IZZY in 4" tall letters across the front of his shirt. Oh,
I get it. What kind of person is compelled to draw attention to himself
like that? Or is it okay, just a good ploy to get even more energy from
the crowd with the personalized verbal encouragement? Not sure. Dodd
F would not have liked it - kind of like a "Go team" chant.
Here's
the thing - the crowd energy is unbelievable. I was not prepared for how
great that was. Now this was the second largest field ever for the race,
and the weather was perfect - low 50s to upper 50's, sunny, and a cooling breeze
at times. But there are people yelling and clapping EVERY STEP of the way.
Patriots Day is a holiday (think Yankee Mardi Gras) and the race runs
through the main drag of about 7 medium size towns on its way into Boston. Everything is shut down, most people are off work, and they're all out
watching the race. Little kids are looking for high fives or passing out
orange segments all along the course. I spent the whole race feeling
somewhere between half decent and miserable - it would have been considerably
worse were it not for all the people. I guess I'd have finished, but maybe
not.
POST MORTEM
I
hope to requalify (no sure thing) and go back to this race. Mostly because
I loved the experience (much more than I was expecting to), but also from the
unfinished business perspective.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My
deepest gratitude to Drs. Jason Abshire, George Sobiesk, Keith Terro, and
Claude Tremblay for keeping me healthy. The last 18 months have seen more
injuries than I have had in the previous 15 years - each ankle badly sprained,
shin splints, plantar fasciitis, bruised ribs. I know that without the
treatment and counsel of the aforementioned, I would not be able to run - and
race - as I have. I feel lucky to have these skilled practitioners
available to use when necessary.