Beginners and Beyond

1234

RR - Unicorns and Rainbows. (Ok, just rain.) Boston 2015. (Read 86 times)

    On Saturday, after running a couple local 5Ks in the morning to pass some time, I packed lightly and headed to the airport, breezing to my gate quickly, even for Buffalo.  As the plane took off into a calm, dusky sky, I could see Toronto in the distance and then Rochester closer as the Lake Ontario shoreline continued, falling away towards Syracuse.  Oneida Lake sat directly below, dark and inky as gloaming gathered and the plane hastened away from daylight.  Further on, as lights twinkled faintly below from towns, I could not see the Adirondacks, but I knew that they were there.  Unfinished business lies in those mountains.  And then out across Massachusetts, a long turn over the ocean and back into the East Coast bustle of Boston.

     

    Instead of riding out to the far terminus of the T's Blue Line as in the last two years, I would be staying much closer to downtown and surfaced at Haymarket and immediately got lost.  There were tons of people out on the street, all sorts of things going on, and after wandering around for a while I finally had to resort the the locator on Google Maps.  The next morning I would realize that TD Garden and the bridge near it are unmistakable landmarks, and that I was staying a couple blocks away, and that North Station was right there.  But none of that was known at the moment, and I was really glad to have found my hotel.

     

    Sunday, expo day.  Boylston Street.  Now the game at hand was revealed as in prior years, with thousands of people in unicorn jackets and shirts and hats and everywhere in running shoes.  Shakeout jogs going on in the street, endless photos being taken at the finish line.  Trying not to be jaded about folks who hadn't yet been out to Hopkinton, who were already wearing this year's jacket, folks who still needed to run a race tomorrow.  Upstairs, get the bag, check that the name and number are correct.  Toss the water, get the shirt.  As always, the volunteers are *wicked awesome* at every turn in Boston.  Smiling, polite, helpful.  I cannot stress how much I appreciate their commitment.

     

    I only wanted a black hat, but saw white ones and the Barney-purple jackets.  Yeah, no.  Orange will do for another year.  Exited the expo asap, made a quick stop at Dunks for an iced coffee and a bagel, and went back to the hotel to organize everything and then get changed to go jog in the Common.  Riding in a train at capacity, I somehow slithered through the mass of humanity headed further inbound to get out at Park Street and turn in several agonizingly slow loops while people-watching.

     

    With a resolution to be more social than in previous years, I headed back to North Station, hit CVS for Gatorade and Baked Lays, and started in on a bag of my all-important cornerstone of carb-loading, Wegmans Mini-Wheats.  Then on to the pasta dinner!  Staged at City Hall, the line was long and slow-moving.  I fretted about spending too much time on my feet, but finally got in and it was easy from there.  Two scoops of pasta with red sauce, one with white, a roll, no salad or sausage thanks, that might summon the PM tomorrow.  Sat at a table with a nice older couple, a quiet nerdy guy from Indiana doing his 10th Boston, and a lady from St. Petersburg, Florida who seemed like she'd be into energy crystals and all that nonsense, but friendly and talkative.  Finally, a chance to sample the Sam Adams 26.2 brew.   It was underwhelming.

     

    Picked up a six pack of 21st Amendment Brew Free or Die IPA, drank one more beer, and ate as many  Wheats and Lays as my stomach could hold.  Early to bed after checking the weather one more time.  The rain would start at 2:00.  Or 12:00, or 11:00, depending on the source.  Coastal Flooding Watch in effect.  Oh boy.  I set out my gear, had everything ready to go, double-checked the race outfit and drop bag and key card and T pass.  Here we go.

     

    4:45 AM, marathon Monday, Patriots' Day, the morning of the day that all the training leads up to.  A quick shower, a short brisk walk to the T station.  A guy from Montreal doesn't know where to go and is trying to get directions from an officer.  She asks if I can help him, so I smile and nod and tell him "c'mon man, follow me."  I talk to him about where he qualified, and then we're at Park Street and I lead him up to the Common and point out the buses and the bag drop tents.  "Run well!"  And with a handshake, he is off, one of thousands of stories that will happen on this day, most of them starting here in the quiet gray of the early morning Common.

     

    The bus ride is long enough in duration that you start to think about just how far 26 miles is while driving, let alone on foot.  My seat-mate is a talkative guy from Denver, a first-timer trying to not get nervous.  He asks if I have any advice other than the obvious things, and I tell him to run his own race, as it becomes tempting to try to stay with the runners you're near at any one time.

     

    Hopkinton, Athlete's Village.  I use the facilities before a line forms and grab a coffee and a bagel and stake out my temporary home, a couple feet of real estate in the big tent, sitting on folded garbage bags.  A neighbor spots my Sabres thrift-store warmups and tells me that he's from Dayton and qualified at Buffalo.   I take a short walk to grab some Gatorade sugary stuff, and hear from behind me, "Jay?"  It's Tim, one of my BNAC teammates! (It stands for Bloody Nipples Athletic Club).  What luck, we're able to shoot the breeze while sitting in the tent and make the wait go much faster by doing so.

     

     

    When we can't sit any longer, we get up to wait for the corral calls and I spot Matty, our team competition 3rd and final runner.  Totally unplanned and an unlikely coincidence to be able to wish them both a strong race.

     

    Finally, it's time to make *the walk*.  I wait for Tim's corral to be announced, but exiting the school, they ask corrals 1-2 to move right.  Totally unnecessary, as everyone walks together afterwards, but I comply and split up after final well-wishes.  Up the hill, all the way up this year, stopping to shed my sweats in the cool drizzle, keeping the hat for now.  The elites are introduced, with huge applause for Meb.  The speaker asks for a round of applause for corral 1 as well, and silence ensues.  Someone cracks "should we cheer for ourselves?", with another shooting back "maybe the elites are cheering for us."  The national anthem plays, the gun fires.  All the hoopla instantly drops away, and it's just about running a race.

     

    5K - 19:12

    Gray skies, the woods and scattered residences quiet, maintaining speed with the pack in general.  This portion felt unremarkable and easy, a prelude to bigger things.

     

    10K - 38:09

    Small pockets of spectators begin to merge into larger masses.  I'm still on autopilot pace-wise, but feeling warmed up and happy.  Lots of high-fives, especially for kids.

     

    15K - 57:35

    Into Natick, still undecided on just how hard I will race.  The A-goal going in was not a PR, but sub 2:50, and I'm still peeling off miles at an appropriate pace without feeling any discomfort, but neither any particular drive to pick it up.  Runners have separated enough now to notice that almost everyone is running proper tangents.  Very businesslike, navigating aid stations easily with no one stopping, being cognizant of surroundings.  It's nice.  Crowd support, while still fantastic, is noticeably down from 2014.  Understandable on a much drearier day.

     

     

    13.1 - 1:21:38

     

    Wellesley, one place where crowd support is never lacking.  The collegiate women there are crazy as usual, but most runners around me are going down the yellow line, purposely staying out of contact.  I only spot one quick kiss!  Not wanting to hinder anyone, I settle for zooming in to slap as many hands as possible, smiling and enjoying the energy boost that will pass too quickly.  Once clear of the college, the halfway mat arrives shortly, and I decide to change nothing until hitting the Newton hills.  Still no distress of any sort, getting it done just like the MP miles over the winter on the TM.

     

    25K - 1:37:03

     

    Here's where my race really began.  The promised headwind started picking up, and the rain began to intensify for short periods.  I have never feared the hills, but they were another ingredient in the positive-split recipe now baking in the oven of my mind.  I had entertained the possibility of picking it up considerably here, but remember thinking "No.  This is not the day, this is not the year.  Don't let the headwind wear you down, get smart."  And so I did.  The strategy would be modified to getting safely to Heartbreak, surging up it, and then hanging on for the wild ride afterwards, with the energy of the thickest crowds to lift me.

     

     

     

    30K -1:57:24

     

    Clif Shot aid station, a bright spot as things were getting a little dark.  The rain was now steady and would not let up for the duration.

    As planned, I went to work at Heatbreak and passed a lot of people who were starting to look less than thrilled.  Spectators toughed it out under umbrellas, but I was at my most introspective here, focusing on not letting the hill dictate my pace, nor the rest of the race.

     

    Boston College snapped the bleakness before it got too bad, and I started slapping hands again and even cheering back at the crowd.  They stole the show at BC this year, nearly as loud as Wellesley, seemingly impervious to the cold and wet seeping into everyone else's souls.

     

    35K - 2:17:36

     

    Foggy mist, more rain, more wind and cold.  I was feeling it now, tightening up especially in my hands and arms.  Mentally, I was still present, but also started to pretend that the race was the Buffalo Turkey Trot, trying to convince myself that it was simply an 8K in weather that would be considered good compared to snow.  Fatigue was setting in, and so was the backwards math that we often do to calculate stuff like "even if I run 7 minute miles now, I can still hit my time goal" towards the end of marathons.

     

    The Citgo sign, Right on Hereford, Left on Boylston.

     

    The triangular beacon's appearance was a huge relief, and as it got closer, I knew that this would be a successful race.  There was a B.A.A. woman running nearby, and the crowds were all about it.  Under that last little bridge, and it's showtime.  I must have been delirious at this point, because I had picked my pace way up and actually yelled "right on Hereford, left on Boylston!" as it happened in real time, to finally see the finish line approaching and hear the crowd roaring and see runners celebrating as they emptied the last gas in the tank.

     

     

     

    2:46:14

     

    Boston can be a PR course.  This was not my year for that, but I am very happy with my result, taking 10 minutes off 2014's time. 10 more minutes for 2016 before aging out of the open division?  Maybe a long shot, but it's going to be fun to try.

     

     

    Afterwards

     

    Medal, food, and an awful trip to the bag check tent.  My left leg felt injured, a phantom pain that would vanish as soon as I stumbled into the shower.  To get there, however, I zombie-walked in a daze, clutching the hood of my heat cape closed for warmth, hands like icy claws.  I wanted to do nothing to prolong the misery, so instead of stopping to change, I went right to the T station, carrying both my food and checked bags unopened.  I had security let me through the turnstile (runners ride free on marathon day) rather than digging for my pass, slogged through puddles between TD Garden and the hotel, and threw everything on the ground outside my room's door.  Using my teeth to help rip open the bag, I extracted my key card from a spare sock, kicked my stuff into the room, and somehow mustered the patience to actually take off my gear before hitting the hot water.

     

    As bad as the cold was, it wore off and I managed a quick nap before heading back in to Fenway for the post-race party.  It would have been a bust, as socializing was difficult, with most runners wandering around aimlessly in the damp, chilly concourse.  However, a golf cart zoomed by and shortly returned, 5 feet away with Lelisa Desisa and Caroline Rotich smiling and waving from the back, en route to the awards podium.  A couple beers and a slice of pizza later, I returned to my room.  Plans to hit a neighborhood bar were foiled by falling asleep immediately -- shoes, jacket and all.

     

    The next morning was warm and sunny, a beautiful spring day in Boston, as if the bad weather had only been a dream.  A dream in which weather was the only bad thing.

      Thanks for posting the detailed RR.  In the photos, your left hand (reddish-pinkish)really shows the cold.  Good job on the raec.  Can't wait to read next year's account with that 10 minute PR!

      “Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.” - T.S. Eliot

      RSX


        Great race report (race, pictures, and logistics) and you nailed it! on a brutal day! Congrats.

        Jill.


        Penguin Power!

          Wow!  Great job :-)  Jay you are quite the writer as well as an obviously gifted runner.

          Upcoming Races: Run as One 4M (4/24) * Japan Run 4M (5/8) * Brooklyn Half (5/21) 


          on my way to badass

            Wow!  Great job :-)  Jay you are quite the writer as well as an obviously gifted runner.

            Exactly what I was thinking.  Thanks for the RR.  Can't wait to see what you do in 2016.

            Still waiting for the perfect race picture. 5K PR-33:52 , 10K PR 1:11:16, First HM 2:42:28

            Little Blue


              Amazing performance.  Fabulous pictures ( love the finish line!).  Great RR.  Thanks for sharing your experience.

              onemile


                Congrats! It was cool reading your report as someone who ran the same race (albeit much much slower).  Your pics turned out great too.


                From the Internet.

                  Damn Jay, you're as good at writing race reports as you are at running! I felt like I was right there the whole time Smile Congrats on a great race!

                  Brilliant


                    Fantastic race and report.  What a year to take 10 minutes off your time!  The last running pic is cool; your face says, "I got this!"

                    LRB


                      I was feeling it now, tightening up especially in my hands and arms.  Mentally, I was still present, but also started to pretend that the race was the Buffalo Turkey Trot, trying to convince myself that it was simply an 8K in weather that would be considered good compared to snow.  Fatigue was setting in, and so was the backwards math that we often do to calculate stuff like "even if I run 7 minute miles now, I can still hit my time goal" towards the end of marathons.

                       

                      Lot's of goodness in your report but this hit home with me. It seems to be what I remember most about my marathons. For me it is that battle between I don't care anymore and I trained too hard to just let this slip away.

                       

                      I can appreciate the detail in your report and came away with a feeling of hurry up and wait for the pre-race morning experience. That was a nice little tidbit as the truth of the matter is you are not going anywhere anytime soon, so just be cool.

                       

                      I have taken a bus ride on a half marathon point to point course and the brow raise as you are riding is significant. That 26.2 mile ride must seem insane, oh geezus.

                       

                      You seemingly have this training and racing thing mastered now. I along with the rest of the hobby jogger world not only await that last weekend in September, but everything that will happen in between.


                      Hip Redux

                         You seemingly have this training and racing thing mastered now. 

                         

                        +100   You rock, Jay.   That is all.

                         

                        Docket_Rocket


                          Congrats!  Amazing race!  I see the Elixirs are perfectly matching. 

                           

                          I cannot wait what you'll do next!

                           

                          PS, what is it with men and directions? 

                          Damaris

                           

                          As part of the 2024 London Marathon, I am fundraising for VICTA, a charity that helps blind and visually impaired children. My mentor while in law school, Jim K (a blind attorney), has been a huge inspiration and an example of courage and perseverance. Please consider donating.

                          Fundraising Page

                          happylily


                            Jay, like everything you write, this RR read at times like a riveting novel and at times like gentle poetry. Reading you is always such a great pleasure. Your writing forces me to slow down so that I can appreciate every word and every thought, and by doing that, it allows me to feel the rain on my skin and the euphoria of your last mile. Thank you for that... It's like a gift that you give all of us.  Though my experience was in many ways very different from yours, in some ways, it was the same. That feeling of awe when running Boston is something that unites many of us and you conveyed it well. And of course, congratulations on such a strong race! Your victorious smile is wonderful.

                            PRs: Boston Marathon, 3:27, April 15th 2013

                                    Cornwall Half-Marathon, 1:35, April 27th 2013

                            18 marathons, 18 BQs since 2010

                            outoftheblue


                              Congrats on another extremely well-executed and generally awesome race.  Your RR was beautifully written and I felt I was part of the entire experience.

                              Life is good.

                              Zelanie


                                Great read, as usual, and and even better race!  Your training has gone so well this year!  I enjoy reading about it.  Do you think the extra MP miles are what's making the biggest difference?

                                1234