So, picking up where I left off with my past post, on the morning of the race, I awakened around 6am, ate half of a bagel, drank some black coffee, and had a bite or two of cantaloupe. I had been uncertain exactly what I would eat for breakfast, since the race was such a later start time than i am accustomed to. Normally the races start early in the morning and I really don't eat much at all before running. But I knew that with a 10:40am start time, and a good 4 hours or so of running ahead, I would need some good fuel. I was encouraged to eat simple carbs with low fiber and low fat for my pre-race meal, and that seemed to sit pretty well. I chatted with Milo, the somewhat eccentric owner of the Bed and Breakfast where I was staying, as I ate, trying to have normal conversation and not let on just how much I was beginning to feel nervous.
My friend Tim came to pick me up at the B&B around 7:45am, and had a plan to drive me to a drop-off location about a mile or two from the start line at Hopkinton. That is how he had gotten to the start in previous years, and he knew many locals chose to do this rather than take the early morning shuttles from Boston Commons. He said there would be many runners doing this and it would be easy for me to find my way to athlete's village. I trusted him, and opted for the extra sleep to avoid the long shuttle lines and many more hours in the cold before the race.
We passed several school busses transporting runners on our way, which assured me our timeline was sound for getting to the start.
He dropped me at an exit ramp where we saw a few other runners hopping out of cars, and off I went with a "thank you!" and wave to Tim. On my own now, carrying a green plastic gear bag, breathing deeply the chilly morning air, relishing the sunshine, and feeling twinges of nervousness mixed with excitement at the day ahead, I began my warm-up walk to the athlete's village.
There were not hoards of runners walking as I was, but I did see a few so I knew I was headed in the right direction. It was good to stretch my legs a bit and warm up. As I walked along, one of the policement directing traffic called to me "would you like the bus to pick you up?" Thinking it might be nice to avoid a 2-mile walk before the 26.2 mile run, I said "sure!" and he hailed one of the passing school busses (I later learned they almost never allow runners to hop on elsewhere!) who stopped to let me board. The bus dropped us about half a mile from athlete's village, with plenty of time to walk there and get situated, use the port-a-potties, and check my little green plastic "baggage" bag at one of the school busses designated to transport runners' gear to the finish line.
With 27,000 runners, the athlete's village was understandably quite a zoo. Set up on the hillside campus of a local school, the place was crawling with athletes all stretching, eating, drinking, waiting in line for port-a-potties, and excitedly awaiting the announcements over the blaring loudspeakers for their time to head to the start corrals. I had plenty of time to get myself stretched, get all of my gear into my plastic bag and checked into the appropriate bus (each bus was assigned a range of bib numbers, and each window of the bus received a smaller subset of those numbers, so it would be easier to find athlete's assigned bag at the finish).
They had divded us into 3 starting waves, based on entry time. Within each wave there were 8 corrals, again based on entry time. I was assigned to wave 3, corral 1, which was the latest starting time--10:40. Despite the cold breeze, I stripped down to my running skort, a sleeveless top, and a long-sleeved jacket (which I had planned to toss once I was warm enough). Two pairs of sweat pants tossed into the large bags designated for donated clothing, I headed with my wave to the start area at our designated time.
As wave 2 began to run, the wave 3 runners got into place in our appropriate corrals. The awesome benefit of being in the first corral of wave 3 was that I was literally lined up almost right on the start line. Even though each runner's bib will activate his or her personal time clock as they cross the start time (so the time it takes to get from your corral to the start line doesn't count in your net race time), it was so nice not to have to start the race in the midst of a crowd and have to shuffle along at a slower pace until folks spread out enough to hit our strides. Instead, those of us in the front of wave 3 felt like we were the "elite" runners at the start, and had nothing but open road--and fresh spectators lining both sides of the route--at the start. Awesome feeling.
Finally, we were counting down the seconds until the gun signalled our start and we took off. The first stretch of the race was actually downhill, and it was easy to get into a much faster than usual pace at the start. The weather was absolutely gorgeous--chilly but clear and sunny--and the crowd support was amazing. Spectators lined both sides of the road as we made our way from Hopkington, through various small towns that line "Main Street" on our way towards the city of Boston. Click on the link to see the course:
Boston Marathon Course Map
I think I ran with a smile on my face for pretty much the whole run! It was exhilarating to be there, running in THE marathon of marathons, with no pressure, really, to perform. My goal was simply to enjoy the day, to run my best, and to take it all in. All of which I managed to do. With the first part of the course largely slightly downhill, it was easy to hit an early fast pace, and I actually clocked my best ever half-marathon time at the halfway point. I had read warnings not to let those early downhills drain you of your reserves for the later steeper climbs, but I really didn't take much caution...just let my legs go and enjoyed a faster pace than usual for the first part of the run.
As the miles ticked by, I enjoyed reading the signs and posters the spectators had crafted to support friends and loved ones, and had fun listening to the crowds cheer specifically for people who had taken the time to write their names on their bibs or their t-shirts. I had meant to wear my name for this reason, but had forgotten the sticker I had made. Oh well. I actually found that I was sort of glad NOT to have my name on my shirt, as I watched a woman named "Kerrie" feel the need to wave and acknowledge each and every cheer offered for her. I think I might have found it distracting. I was glad, however, when--around mile 14 or so--I started hearing cheers of "Go AMY!" as I ran by. I was taken by surprise at first...and even more surprised as the cheers continued from both sides of the road. Wondering how these people knew my name, I turned my head slightly to realize that a woman who was approaching me from behind was sporting the name "Amy" on her jersey. I smiled and told her it felt good to have some folks cheering for me by name!
Anytime I was tempted to focus on the inevitable aches and twinges of cramps that can start to sneak up later in the race, I would remind myself that the finish line was not the main goal--enjoying the WHOLE experience was the goal. That always helped, and as I hit the hills starting around mile 18 (culminating in Heart Break Hill around mile 21), I was feeling fine. The hills--for which I had mentally braced myself--were really not all that bad. A series of climbs, with plateaus in between, the hills did slow me down a little, but I really kept my pace fairly well and felt fine as I climbed. In fact, as I crested the final hill, I wondered "could that have been "Heartbreak Hill?" because I wasn't sure. I overheard someone else behind me ponder the same question aloud, and when someone else said "Yep! All downhill from here!' I thought "Wow! That wasn't so bad!"
One of the coveted landmarks of the race is a gigantic CITCO sign, which marks the "one mile to go!" point. It is visible for quite a distance before you actually pass it, so it sort of taunted me...knowing that at some point we would only have a mile left, but it kept popping into and out of view behind buildings...until finally I was passing it!
One of the highlights, for me, was passing a platoon of active duty army guys in their full BDUs, wearing packs and combat boots, and carrying the flag, who had run the marathon in formation. I passed them just as we were rounding our last corner before the final stretch to the finish line. When I passed them, they were standing still. Shortly after I passed them, they began to run for their finish. As they passed, the crowd support was amazing. That helped to carry me the final few hundred meters!
Finally, I was on Boyleston St, with the blue finish line in full view. 3:50:39--another Boston Qualifying time (just barely!) and within 30 seconds of my best time from Tallahassee last February. What a great feeling to be done!
After we crossed the line, I felt like we were cattle being corralled as they guided us through the stations to get our mylar blankets, give us water bottles and gatorade, snack bags, and on to the baggage busses. It was really crowded at that point, and hard to walk...not good for leg muscles and feet that were beginning to cramp up and spasm! All I wanted to do was to stretch, but there was no room and nowhere to go. So we shuffled together until finally the corral gates were opened and I could sit down and stretch.
5K: 24:01
10K: 48:51
15K: 1:14:35
20K: 1:41:53
1/2: 1:47:36
25K: 2:08:49
30K: 2:37:59
35K: 3:08:19
40K: 3:37:38
Finish: 3:50:39
My rankings were:
Overall: 13,608th out of 23,879
Gender: 4404 out of 10073
Age Group: 845 out of 1807
So, overall, not too shabby! Not my absolute best run, but considering all that has happened in our lives so far in 2011, I'll take it!
Here are a few of my favorite signs and t-shirts of the day:
- "Run Faster! The British are Coming!"
- "Pain is just a fancy French word for bread!"
- On a t-shirt worn by a white-haired guy who PASSED me: "Fastest Geezer!" (the crowds loved that one)
- One little boy shouted (in his Bostonian accent) as he handed out twizzlers (rather than the typical orange slices or gatorade) "Hey runners! Here--eat something you'll remembah!"
- As we passed through the campus of Wellesley, a college for women, the famed Wellesley Scream Tunnel of cheering was intense. I was marveling at all the posters these young girls had made that said "Kiss me, I'm _____" and many things filled in the blank (I'm Irish, I'm Italian, I'm a runner, etc). What surprised me even more was watching one older guy, smiling as he ran, who actually took many of them up on the offer and kissed his way down the row of screaming girls. Took his mind off the pain of the run, I'm sure! Read about it here.
All in all, it was a great run. I managed to make my way back to my B&B on the T, stopping in at a sports store to buy a pair of Vibram 5-finger shoes on my way (with an Boston marathon participant's discount!), got a quick shower, then headed out to enjoy dinner at the Cheesecake Factory with my old college roommate from Hopkins, Anne Marie Largay Poulin and her family. What a great way to cap off a great day. I thoroughly enjoyed my evening catching up with Anne Marie, meeting her husband Brent and their cute kids, Maggie and Sam.
The next morning, stiff and sore (didn't sleep well because my muscles were so filled with lactic acid), I made my way to the airport on the T, and was happy to be homeward bound!
Here is the view of Boston as I was crossing the river from Cambridge into Boston:
Congratulations, Amy. I can't even imagine doing something like this. I would die trying to "run" to the end of my driveway..LOL
ReplyDeleteyou go girl!!!! we parked it on heartbreak hill 3 years ago when jim ran-- great place to be- saw lance armstrong run by! how are those shoes?? are they comfy??
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