So, can I just say that while I was gone, I was totally
blogsick. I kept wanting to make a note of things and talk about my day, but we did not have easy
internet connection, and it just didn't work out as planned. There are so many things to tell!!!
For one, Boston is just a madhouse during marathon weekend, but still rather easy to navigate. Packet pickup was simply teeming with people, the line to buy merchandise was honestly 200 yards long. I feel like I have to leave the rest out, and get right to the race.
So the night before the race, I didn't sleep very much at all, especially after the hotel security system erupted at midnight. I drifted in and out of sleep until about 4:00 AM, as which point I gave up and got out of bed and paced around my hotel bathroom until room service delivered my oatmeal. Now, I love myself some oatmeal in the morning, but I pretty much choked it down. I was just a bundle of nerves, for many reasons. The logistics of Boston are a nightmare, because it is a point-to-point race and you have to catch some sort of transportation (be it the Boston Marathon sanctioned school buses or a bus of your own hiring) to truck you all the way out to Hopkinton by 7:00 AM for a race that does not start until sometime after 10:00 AM. There is lots of standing around and waiting to wait some more, and let's not even discuss the port-a-john lines.
So, I was a bundle of nerves about the whole deal. I was panicked that I would not be able to hail a cab on the busy Boston Marathon morning. I was panicked that I would not get to my bus on time and that I would have no choice but to hitchhike a ride with a serial killer or worse or jog the 26 miles to Hopkinton to start the race with 20 miles already under my belt for the morning. So many ridiculous thoughts ran through my head while I was choking down my oatmeal: What if I got lost on the way to my corral? What if I forgot to set my Garmin right? What if my shoes come untied? What if they did not hand out Gu (which they did not, so it was lucky that I brought my own)?
Anyway, it all went off without a hitch. The doorman hailed me a cab before I even asked for one. I got to my bus 15 minutes early. I packed everything I needed. I got to my corral easily.
Now the corral situation is CRAZY. There are 25,000 runners at least, and they are all roped off all over the downtown of Hopkinton. The start line was so far in front of me that I never heard the gun go off. The only thing that told me the race had started was that far in the distance, I could see heads begin bobbing. After I saw heads bobbing in the distance, it took about 10 minutes before I got to start running. Having run only tiny marathons in the past (I mean honestly, in Huntsville, about 25 of us line up on the starting line and run real fast), Boston was a behemoth.
Now, for once in my life, I started a marathon at a slower beginning pace. I ran eight-ish minute miles before I started lowering my mile times, and I am telling you I just had a lovely run. I stopped to go to the bathroom behind a fire truck at mile 1.5ish. And, in a new twist on my running style, I stopped and walked EVERY Gatorade stop after mile five. I stayed well hydrated, and it was a nice break.
After that, it was a just a nice long run. The crowds were intense and just super drunk in most spots. There was never a dry spot in terms of crown support, it was at least three people deep the whole way. THREE PEOPLE DEEP FOR 26.2 MILES. At Wellesley and Boston College, I thought that I was going rock concert deaf. It was THAT loud.
Starting slower really helped me, and it kept my splits relatively even for the whole marathon. I was able to speed up hills, and can I just tell you that I barely noticed Heartbreak Hill. It was nothing compared to the altitude situation that your average Nashville run gives you.
Anyway, on to the good stuff.
I PRed. It was my best race ever. I felt great the whole time, AND I think I could have run a little faster. I ran a 3:26. (you can click on the link and see my splits) This was the first marathon that I had actually trained for, and it went great. When I think about it, I did not actually adhere to all the training. I skipped a couple of long runs based on sickness and just not really wanting to do it. I did do the
speedwork, and I did consult with a coach who talked sense into me about the reality of tapering (which is a term that I both mistrusted and feared prior to now). Tapering really works, and speed work and coaching were lifesavers.
Anyway, when I turned onto Boylston for the last few hundred yards of the race, I was able to pick up the pace and really run fast. I was not able to run as fast as the guy beside me who started doing CARTWHEELS, whom I have now decided that I greatly disliked. I mean who does that? It is a road race, have respect for the sport and RUN it. Also, I was eventually beaten by the marathon fairy, a Scottish man in a pink tutu with a wand. This is actually the second marathon where I have been beaten by the marathon fairy, and regardless of my PR, it was demoralizing.
Overall, when I finished the marathon, I thought that it was going to be my last, because I haven't had the best running season, I have felt burned out and there is always some level of distaste for running at the end of a marathon. Today, however, two days out, I am thinking that it will happen again next year. I might actually do all the long runs, and taper, and not workout all the time and see if I can get a little faster. Maybe I won't walk all the water stops and maybe I won't start out quite as slowly. Maybe I have a sub 3:20 marathon in me, which begs the question, where does it end?? If I have a sub 3:20, do I have a sub 3:10? Can I break 3, and how much of my life am I willing to compromise. Hhhhmmm.
Tomorrow: I take another day off and waxing poetic about how there is not ONE picture of me where I look great running. I am usually rocking a death grimace and a slack jaw. You should see the professional Boston Marathon pics. They are heinous, and I even had a coordinated outfit and pigtail hairstyle.
Pics are from Boston Harbor, right before we boarded our water taxi to head to the airport.