My original plan was for this to be my final Boston Marathon -- since 2018, which was supposed to mark my marathon retirement, was so abysmal. But with my "training" for this being so haphazard, I really had no idea what to expect, so I decided to just go big and see what happened.

I printed out just one 3:05 pace band. Aggressive, but not impossible. And it did leave me a bit of wiggle room to still PR if I didn't blow up too dramatically.

This year's rolling start was so much more pleasant than having to wait in the mud pit of a start village in 2018. Granted, it isn't always a mud pit, but even so, I vastly prefer getting off the bus and just starting to run over having to wait around all antsy for hours.

There was a woman named Jess across the aisle from me on the bus to Hopkinton, and as you do, we started talking and discovered we had similar goals, so we decided to start running together. When we rolled up to the start line, it was 9:23 AM and some seconds, so we just stood there like idiots (and got some funny looks) and waited for the clock to flip over to 9:25. That way, we'd be exactly 25 minutes off the course clocks, which would make midrace math a little bit easier.

And then we started to run. A bit anticlimactic, sure, but what a huge difference from 2018! It's bizarre to start a major race and not have to jostle for elbow space or use some fancy footwork to avoid tripping over people. It was really quite nice. Plus, the realization that we were actually doing this after so long was marvelous. Almost marvelous enough to stop me from focusing on just how damn long a marathon is, and realizing that I don't have the attention span to make it that far without having several anxiety attacks.

We were consciously pulling back from my pace band a little, because it's always better to be a little slow than a little fast at the start. And while 3:05 would be awesome, I didn't fully expect it to happen; I would be fine with any PR at all, with a Boston PR (including the virtual) as a fallback. Last resort would be a course PR, and if I couldn't manage that, well... it just meant I had a really, really bad day.

But the weather was so great! Not for most people, sure, but I'm not most people. These temperatures are just about ideal for me, I think. Of course, I'd have appreciated less humidity, and a tailwind would have been nicer than the headwind, but at least the wind wasn't super strong.

It was actually really nice having someone to run with. It made it easier to not push too hard. Of course, I felt so tired (hello, low ferritin) that it wouldn't take much to feel like I was pushing too hard, since I was exhausted right from the first step, but having some company made it easier for me to avoid focusing on that and beating myself up over it.

<figure> <figcaption>Photo by Ben from Cheer Everywhere, just before mile 15</figcaption> </figure>

By mile 8 or 9, we were falling enough behind my pace band that I decided to just stop stressing out and not look at it anymore. I didn't feel like I'd pushed too hard per se, but I knew it was pretty unlikely that I'd end up with a PR since I'm not a strong hill runner, and I didn't see why I needed to make myself suffer more than necessary, so I opted to just let it go.

One of the benefits of running a race more than once is that you have previous knowledge of the course. I, however, did not feel like I had that, because I remember nothing of 2018 but the utter frozen misery. It was effectively like running this course for the first time. One of the only things I remembered from last time was the Wellesley scream tunnel, because it was so impossibly loud that I could hear it even over the thunderous weather and the flapping of my plastic poncho. And that was nothing compared to what it was like this year! In general, given that the only frame of reference I have for this is 2018, when most sane spectators would have stayed home, even if the crowds were smaller than usual because of the pandemic... I find that incredible. Because there were so many people out there, it was amazing.

<figure> <figcaption>We're in lockstep!</figcaption> </figure>

Right on cue, around the halfway point, my knees started to complain. Thankfully, it wasn't nearly as bad as it was at Chasing the Unicorn, and I attribute that to the course elevation. A "fast, flat" course does me no good if the unchanging terrain stresses the same muscles over and over and over until they're unusable. I also wore compression shorts in the hope that my hip (which I had been working on strengthening) would behave; I'm not sure if that's why it didn't hurt, but it didn't, so I will never again wear regular shorts for a marathon.

On a related note, in the "beggars can't be choosers" category, I'm glad my digestive system didn't act up too much. I wanted to take advantage of how many fueling opportunities were available to me, because it's easier to stomach calories in smaller doses than in one go. The plan was to go for Gatorade at the even-numbered miles, water at the odd-numbered ones, and swapping out the Gatorade for a gel at miles 6, 12, 18, and 24. All I know is that I went in with six gels (better safe than sorry) and came out with three, so I did fall a bit short, but at least my stomach didn't cramp up crazily like it can sometimes do... which might be why I only used three gels, because I was afraid of that happening!

Jess and I ran the first 20 miles together. She attacked the Newton hills far more than I did; I think if I had a legitimate shot at a PR, I might have gone with her, but since I didn't (realistically), I played it safe instead. She ultimately wound up finishing 80 seconds ahead of me. But before that happened, we passed the PPTC cheer station around 30K, which was all sorts of awesome. I loved knowing that people were waiting at specific points, because it gave me something to anticipate besides the inevitable agony.

<figure> <figcaption>Photo by Marek Stępniowski</figcaption> </figure>

Just before making the left onto Boylston, I looked at my watch and saw an elapsed time of 3:09:29, which meant I definitely wasn't go to PR. It also shows that it's not in my mind: the stretch on Boylston is really long. It took me nearly three minutes after the turn to cross the finish line, and I wasn't exactly crawling.

Of course, I wasn't walking normally once I stopped running, but I wasn't offered a wheelchair either, which is a definite improvement. The worst part of it all was that when I bent over to untie my shoe to change into flip flops, my right calf cramped up so intensely I almost stopped breathing. I have no idea how anyone deals with that while running, and I am eternally thankful I haven't ever experienced it.

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Garmin recorded 26.49 miles in 3:12:23, 7:16/mi.

Officially, 26.2 miles in 3:12:18, 7:21/mi. 2844/15374 OA, 472/7433 F, 372/2834 F18-39. That's an 18-minute course PR, and I did finish faster than my virtual Boston, especially since for that one, I stopped when my watch hit 26.22. If I had done that today, I'd have run 3:10 and change, but that isn't how this works, now, is it?

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It's weird that I'd be satisfied with only achieving my C goal; sometimes, that comes close to devastating me. It's even more bizarre because I positive split by about the same margin as I did in 2018, and I was farther off my PR this time (2:50 vs. 57 seconds). But I think that's because my PR in 2018 was quite soft, since I ran NYCM 2016 very conservatively to maximize my chances of a BQ without blowing up; and no matter how much I might have wanted to, I physically could not have run any faster in 2018. I think that if I had been closer to a PR, I could have run a little faster than I did at the end. I was a bit too conservative going up the hills.

So if I decide that I want to give this one more shot, I can do it in 2023. 2022 is on Pesach, so that's out. Good thing this October race is also a 2023 qualifier! Hopefully that's not too far into the future for me to remember the course clearly enough for it to be helpful.

That I am even considering doing this again is crazy. But even though it hurt -- because marathons are stupid and they hurt -- it was one of my more enjoyable marathon experiences. Especially in retrospect, of course!

<figure> <figcaption>The medal is gorgeous. I guess because it's #125, it's much bigger than usual.</figcaption> </figure>

And now I feel compelled to give that PR another shot at NYCM next month. Oh dear.

Great race and report! I haven’t run many marathons but find I really can’t remember a lot when I’m done. You really were smiling during the race!

I have run "enjoyable" marathons, but the mental state I feel is related to the expected outcome. It's all sewn together. A desired outcome means (to me) good pacing, which means even splits, which means no extreme suffering, and in the end I am happy with my race management.

Now I read your report and you are happy with your C goal, and I'm jealous of that. I want to, I need to change my thinking not to be so goal oriented, but be experience oriented, or else I'm not going to be participating in events much anymore.

The start sure was different, and I would probably have enjoyed not spending hours in the athletes village also, and not being elbow to elbow for the first 5 miles. But then again, the "race experience" was probably different, too.

Enjoyed your RR, and meant to say the other day that I really like your running form. Wish I had a nice forward lean like you do, while keeping a straight back. Very nice.

Congratulations, blue!

Great race and thanks for the nice race report too.  Good photos as well.

I start wishing more races would go with the "rolling start" method, though that does require some way to keep everyone from trying to set off early.

Thanks, all!

It is super awesome that you've been able to experience things other than injuries and disappointments in the sport. You may have to change the tag line on your blog if this keeps up. 

 

How do you think the race would've gone had you run solo? It's an interesting dynamic for sure, and incredibly random!

Well... I may have run a similar time had I done it alone, but I would have spent most of the time in my own head beating myself up over it and wound up feeling vastly different about the outcome.

I have run "enjoyable" marathons, but the mental state I feel is related to the expected outcome. It's all sewn together. A desired outcome means (to me) good pacing, which means even splits, which means no extreme suffering, and in the end I am happy with my race management.

Now I read your report and you are happy with your C goal, and I'm jealous of that. I want to, I need to change my thinking not to be so goal oriented, but be experience oriented, or else I'm not going to be participating in events much anymore.

 

The start sure was different, and I would probably have enjoyed not spending hours in the athletes village also, and not being elbow to elbow for the first 5 miles. But then again, the "race experience" was probably different, too.

Enjoyed your RR, and meant to say the other day that I really like your running form. Wish I had a nice forward lean like you do, while keeping a straight back. Very nice.

 

Congratulations, blue!

I'm generally very goal-oriented as well, which is why I'm so glad I was able to run most of it with someone else. Like I said, if I'd been alone, the outcome might have been the same, but I would have been upset about it because I'd have experienced the same thing so differently.

As for the running form... trust me, it doesn't always look like that! I try to keep it that way, of course, but there is certainly photographic evidence that this is not always the case.

Well freakin' done, Blue!  It's great to see that you are happy with your race and enjoyed the experience, as you tend to be extremely hard on yourself.  Your splits look about as good as they can on that course.

 

By the way, that is a sweet custom Tracksmith singlet.

Ha! I actually have two of these, in two different sizes. Because the first one I got, which is a looser fit that actually I prefer, I can only wear over a base layer since it has a weird gappy thing going on at the bottom of the armholes. I was absolutely thrilled to shell out for this thing twice. NOT.

Great race and thanks for the nice race report too.  Good photos as well.

 

I start wishing more races would go with the "rolling start" method, though that does require some way to keep everyone from trying to set off early.

Well, you weren't allowed past a certain point until it was technically your wave time. So there were people from later waves standing around -- I guess they'd gotten dropped off at the start instead of taking the official buses from Boston, and were hoping to be able to get going sooner.

I feel like every Boston RR I've ever read is misery. But this had me smiling right along with you! Congrats on running such a good race.

Nicely run (and written).  Surprisingly good race pictures.

Nice job, Blue!  You did great!

I feel like every Boston RR I've ever read is misery. But this had me smiling right along with you! Congrats on running such a good race.

Thanks! There were definitely plenty of miserable parts, but you know how memory is faulty when it comes to such things...

Great race and it looks like you enjoyed it! The first pictures that you posted, I wondered why weree you wearing a sash--but it's the stripe on your tank.

I actually really want a shirt with just the sash -- without the "Prospect Park" in it -- because it looks like a dive flag. That's what I thought it was, ages ago, before I was aware of Tracksmith. Sadly, they have yet to make that available in women's sizes.

Nicely run (and written).  Surprisingly good race pictures.

There were plenty of bad ones, believe me! I chose not to include them.

flying, both feet n the air at th finish

 

https://i.postimg.cc/9Q0FpGDV/EFF1157-E-C699-4-D33-9-E3-A-47-CEB74-E4420.webp

To prove I really ran?