Notes
5k 10k 15k 20k Half 25k 30k 35k 40k
0:20:59 0:42:02 1:03:01 1:23:58 1:28:26 1:44:49 2:06:08 2:27:15 2:48:07
and
10km 0:42:02 6:45
Half-Marathon 1:28:26 6:44
30km 2:06:08 6:45
Finish 2:57:21 6:45
Garmin had 26.5. Acceptable.
Report:
Awesome. Nailed it, nailed it, nailed it.
I did not think my 2:58 goal was soft or sandbagging. Sub 3 - 2:59:59 - would have made me happy in December, when I stated my goal of sub 3.
Why sub 3? I dunno. I used to think that's where the real runners lived.
But real runners live at all speeds - and distances.
Still, it was the number I naively tossed out after I ran 3:13:?? in Dublin in 2007 and qualified for Boston. This was after reconnecting to running after number years off and having broke my knee and snapped my ACL. (And being told by a sports doc: No long running. Sadly, I listened for too many years.) And I figured, if at age 40 I can run a faster marathon than my first, a 3:23:?? in Philly when I was 28 or 29, well, it'll just get easier.
(See the naivete?)
That Boston (2008) I didn't break. I PR'ed with a 3:07:?? but early on, I knew it wasn't happening.
Too tired: Too long of travel in the car. Perhaps, just perhaps, a tad too much booze two nights before while breaking up the trip and staying with a college buddy.
But primarily, the comprehension of the endeavor was wrong. I thought: Five months of training will knock 13ish minutes off easy.
Bill Rodgers was right: The marathon can humble you.
Not enough work, bottom line. Oh well. I was still pleased.
But the challenge loomed.
I entered NYC 2008 and trained harder.
But work that fall was grinding (I was a reporter then and western PA was presidential & VP contender stomping grounds.)
And out of the blue, a sore throat erupted the night before the marathon. Sleep sucked. I was exhausted before the start.
But I swung hard. Went out way too fast. Didn't manage fluids well (peeing at mile 16??!!)
I was walking - walking! - in Central Park and finished 3:10:03.
Oh well, learning lesson.
A few weeks later, I did a stupid hilly marathon that some nutjob runs in Nashville and fared well and had fun.
But all that travel was killing my budget, so I put off Boston '09. I ran a bunch of races and improved my times. Without specifically training for a marathon (I helped do some pace runs for my running store for the Pittsburgh marathon) I ran basically a 3:02 at Pittsburgh in May.
I knew with focus, sub 3 would happen. And I wanted to do Boston again.
I had fun in the fall with shorter races and figured to focus on Boston at the beginning of the year.
I turned to the Swamp for advice and heeded it. I read Pfitzinger with all those goddamn numbers and formulas and science talk and tried to follow the plan, but did not make it my do-or-die gospel.
I attempted speedwork. I wimped out on the strength training. Sit ups suck. And anyone in the northeast knows how shitty winter was. So I did a lot of treadmill miles. Not for fear of cold: I didn't want to risk injury.
This sping, I sacrificed local races I had wanted to run, specifically a 50K followed by a 30K the next week. Instead, I bagged the 50K and ran the half instead of the 30K.
Focus. Eggs in one basket. I didn't let the worst cold I had in years hinder me too much.
Then, the day came to commit in the Swamp. I figured 2:58 sounded fair. A downhill half last fall predicted faster on the calculators (which seem pretty close for me: YMMV) but that course wasn't one to base anything serious from.
The race lead up was perfect. Got to Boston Saturday. Did the expo, dinner on a former colleague. Low keyed it in the hotel. Fun run with some Swampies Sunday morning, then more low-keying. Took in an expo seminar on psychological strategies. Early pasta dinner, then more lazing in the hotel. (Lots of cable-watching, which we don't have.) Got gear ready and a good night's sleep.
At Hopkinton, I had enough time that I got a massage. Figured waiting for it was something to do. Keith wasn't a hottie, but he got the job done. Sat with Thunder and Runlizzy a bit, but they were napping. I walked around, hoping to bump into more Swampies. Bumped into lostinthenet.
Race time:
I didn't go out too fast. I think that was key.
I have a Garmin, so my strategy was to keep my lap paces close to the average pace I'd need for my goal.
Figuring with the short course prevention factor, and Garmin error and not running pure tangents a 6:45 average at max should equal 6:47ish on the official time. Some miles, I dipped into the low 6:30s. My slowest was 6:56, on Heartbreak.
I also stayed positive and would say words such as glide, float, lift, effortless - especially in the hills. I pretended I was a PacMan type thing, gobbling up that white center line. I smiled a lot and thought of the people in my life who believe in me and love me. Early on - around mile six, I just KNEW I would break three, and likely 2:58. I was confident, but not cocky. I trusted in my training and stuck largely to my plan. I wasn't trying to put time in the bank and figured the hills may slow me a bit, but I was feeling good, so I decided to hang around a 6:40ish average on the Garmin miles.
I was passing more people than passed me. I really started passing them in the hills. I passed them afterward, too.
Soaked up the crowd and tried to pay attention to the scenery, which can be hard for me as I essentially tunnelvision races. Spotted Santa. Saw what I believe was a transvestite in a cowboy outfit. Slapped hands with some spectators and lots of the Wellesley women. Missed the biker bar. Noticed the fire house this year. Missed the Kelly statue. Screamed H-T-F-U to a couple people holding an HTFU sign. Ditto for the "What now bitches" sign holders. Favorite sign: "Marry me. I'll have your runner babies."
Fuelwise, I had a gel before, then gels at 6, 12, 18 and 22 or 23. I took some water or Gatorade about every 2 miles
(Gatorade not until about mile 8.)
The day was about perfect, too. Not hot. A bit breezy, sometimes crosswinds, sometimes tailing, sometimes a headwind. But it wasn’t terrible. Got a tad burned on the right side.
Not one step was painful, but nor was I lollygagging. I enjoyed every footfall, though I don't recall them all. I especially relished hitting the hills strong.
A nice finishing touch was meeting up with a bunch of Swampies afterward. Wish I could have met more and talked to each of them more. I felt a twinge of guilt at knowing my race went so well while some others here faltered.
Tuesday, the legs felt great. Oh, I knew I had run a marathon and that there was probably no more I could have given (this is borne by two things: 1. Nearing the finish, I stuck to the right, hoping to see my wife, but near the chute a race guy is waving us to the left and I'm thinking: "That's several more strides. You've got to be kidding!" And 2. A few steps after the finish, a volunteer asks if I'm OK. I figure, if I look like death, I've tasted life at the edge.
So I did an easy 5K in my Vibrams, then a lovely day of walking around with Kathleen, taking pics in the lovely public libary. Ate a great lunch of absolute crap at http://www.mcgreevysboston.com/ (Irish breakfast: eggs, Irish sausage, blood pudding, rashers [bacon,] Irish bread, baked beans) Mmmmmmm. A Guinness and some other beer, too.
Walked to Fanuel (sp) Hall with our backpacks. Popped into Bill Rodgers' Running Center and had him sign my race number and I got a pic. Some of the more jaded folk may think that's a bit corny for a 42-year-old, but who cares?
I'm going to let my PR bask in the limelight a bit, but I've got to set a new goal.