Boston Marathon 2016

First, I want to start by saying thanks to all of you who sent messages of encouragement and I also welcomed the condolences!  Yes, the race did not turn out as expected, but there were lessons learned, strengths uncovered and memories made.

Let me speak to the marathon week end in general.  Now, I have never been to Boston, so not sure what it is like on "normal" week-ends, but marathon week end is certainly something special.  I don't need to get into the details of my time there, but generally speaking, the city had a carnival, party and celebratory atmosphere.  The weather leading up to the race was cool, but pleasant and there seemed to be crowds of people everywhere and something happening on every street corner.  Pretty remarkable.

Then there was race day.  To the casual observer and even to us runners, it was an absolutely beautiful morning.  Bright blue sky's, an ocean breeze off the Atlantic, beautiful sunshine and morning temps of 50 something.  However, after running the logistical gauntlet of automobiles, trains and buses, the temp was probably closer to 60.  Still not a problem, but we had an hour or so until go time.  At around 9:05 they announce that they would let Wave 1 enter their corals, so I shed my warm ups, said so long to Kurt and Eugene, and headed to the start.  This is when I realized it was going to be a challenge.  As we we walked the mile or so to the start line, the sun was very bright and very warm.  I could already start to feel this delicate Minnesota flower start to wilt!  Like a dummy, I wore no hat, but did manage to slather on quite a bit of sunscreen.  One more bathroom stop and I entered my coral.  The anthem played and the helicopters flew over head and we were ready to go.  This is the point where I, and thousands of others got into trouble.  We knew the temp wasn't bad and apart from some warm sunshine it was all systems go, right?  Heck, we even had a nice ocean breeze blowing in from the east.  Why adjust your pace?  What could go wrong?

We were off and I was running my first Boston Marathon!  The crowds at the start were loud and we were running down hill and all was right with the world.  However, I was about a mile or so in when I started feeling some cramping in my gut, not bad, but enough to know that there was a problem.  I tried to ignore it, but when my first miles were ranging from 6:49 to 7:01, I realized that today wasn't my day.  It felt hot, but I wasn't sweating a lot, I was working hard, but could go no faster than 7 minute pace, plus the GI issues worsened.  This continued on through mile 11 and I slowed to a 7:15 pace and by 14, I was forced to hit the porta potty.  I seriously considered dropping out at this point, but decided to press on; heck,  I can run 12 miles in my sleep, so why not take what the course gave me and run as easy as possible.  It was pretty demoralizing having 1,000 of runners streaming past me, but I had nothing left.  I made it up the hills without much problem, reached the 20 mile mark and prepared mentally and physically for the final 6.2 downhill.  Even though I was running very easy, my hamstrings started to go wonky.  It was manageable through 23, but they started to seize up by mile 24, and soon after that the left one was doing the same.  The only distraction from the hamstring cramping was the severe side stitch that would not subside.  With less than two miles to go, I was running at an 8:45 pace, shortening my stride as much as possible to keep from face planting on Boylston Street.  The crowds were roaring, but I could not respond in kind.  I had nothing.  The blazing finish I had envisioned all these weeks, had devolved into a penguin waddle!  I crossed the finish line and as soon as I stopped, both hammies seized up, but I managed to stay upright.  I felt lightheaded and I was very close to dropping, but it passed quickly.  I just wanted my medal and cheeseburger!

The theme of the day was cramping.  I have run 16 marathons and rarely see people dropping, but Monday I saw many folks just bonking and dropping in the middle of the course.  The deceptively warm conditions had their way with many of us, especially those of us not used to early summer-like temps.

While I am certainly disappointed with the result, I did discover another level of perseverance I didn't realize existed.  When you are negotiating with yourself at the halfway point, you know you are in for a long morning.  I seriously and longingly eyed every medical tent from 14 on, but kept telling myself, let's stop at the next one!  Without a proper finish, I would never feel right about wearing my Boston jacket.  A DNF at the most prestigious marathon in the world just seemed like a bad idea.  I never walked either, I honestly think if I would have walked, I never would get moving again!

I am now more than 24 hours removed from the race and I seriously don't know if I want to do another marathon.  The marathon can be glorious, life-changing and inspiring, but on any given day, it can also be equally humbling, painful and demoralizing.  And no matter how hard you prepare, you never know what day you are going to experience.  On the other hand, I turn 55 this year, and a sub 3 in that age group would put me in the top 10 at Boston!

Happy Running everyone!  I will be taking some well deserved time off, but hope to see you on an easy run on the trails!

Rick