RACE REVIEW:BOSTON MARATHON

 "Love. It's the only way you'll make it. Love will help you choose your project and drag you back on the bad days. Love will wake you up with deep yearning for the work, such that you're miserable when you're away from it. Whatever it is. You've got to love it."

~ Sam Robinson

On Monday, April 20th, I ran the Boston Marathon. It was my 39th marathon and my 13th Boston. I was more nervous than usual going into this one. For a couple reasons. First, the last time I raced Boston (recap here) I almost didn't make it to the finish. My body broke down in the heat and I ended up in the medical tent at mile 20. I finished, but it was a shit show. In general, I love this sport. But that day, I hated it. And I found myself wondering if perhaps I was done with marathons all together. All that work and so much heartbreak; it really did a number on me. Since then I have run six marathons so...yeah. Hard to stop doing what you love even when it beats you down. You know it and I know it. But, back to my reasons. Second, this winter just about killed me. It was so freaking cold and snowy in Boston. I did almost all of my hard workouts inside on the treadmill. And by the time I got outside in March, I just wasn't feeling like myself. I got most of the work done but the build just felt off and my body was not responding to training the way it usually did. Come April, my confidence was pretty low and my fear of another bad experience was high. I just couldn't go through that again. And because of that, I knew I was going to have to approach this one differently. I got on the phone with my coach and we made a plan. Without going into too much detail we agreed to run smart and in control, focusing more on how my body was feeling than my watch with the goal being to have enough in the tank to finish feeling good. I hung up feeling a little better about the situation and trying to be open to what was possible rather than fearing what could go wrong.

As usual, I got myself organized and turned in around 9:00 in preparation for my 5:00am wakeup. It's worth noting that it rained ALL day on Sunday before the race. The weather was forecasting chilly but dry for Monday but I couldn't help but feel a slight panic that things might unfold differently. Mother Nature is a feisty beast. I never trust her. If there are weather gods, I was praying hard to them that night.

When I woke up it was 35 degrees outside. Pretty atypical for mid-April. And while it was ridiculously cold, I was relieved that it was dry.  Jeff was going to drive me up to Methuen so I could meet up with my Whirlaway teammates and ride the van into Boston with them. I was supposed to be up there at 6:00am sharp and was right on schedule until we got out to the car and realized it was iced over and the windshield needed to be scraped off.  WHAT?  Panic ensued. I was going to be the one who would hold up the van and I was not happy about it. I texted my friends and our team manager to let them know what happened and then sat in the passenger seat and sweated profusely as we made our way north. We rolled into the parking lot five minutes late and I hopped out of our car as it was moving and frog jumped over to the van which took off immediately. This is not how I wanted to start my morning. Totally my fault. Not my best. We pulled into Hopkinton around 7:00 and set ourselves up in the local post office which we're allowed to use each year because one of our teammates has a friend who works there. We are very, very lucky. 

Sitting and waiting for anything that you're anxious about for any amount of time is nerve-wracking.  We had three hours to kill in this small locker room. So. Much. Time. But, thankfully, we were all together so we did our best to keep each other distracted with stories, pep talks and conversations about anything and everything. This. This is why I am on a team. Finally, around 9:40 we headed outside to leave our drop bags in the van and do some last minute strides and dynamics before walking over to the start. The temp was in the low forties and while it still felt pretty cold, the sun was out in full force and we now knew that we would be fine for the race itself. That was a huge relief. We walked to the corrals and waited for the volunteers to let us in for Wave 2. 

Katy and I were both Wave 2, Corral 1 and we'd now spent four very long hours together. I could have not have asked for a better wing woman. She was my rock all morning. We hugged each other just before the start and then got on the line to go. Ready or not.

THE RACE:

Miles 1-6 (6:43, 6:55, 6:56, 6:54, 7:09, 6:59)

My mantra for this race was WHAT IF. My dear friend CB had asked me this when I told her I was doubting myself during my training cycle. She was encouraging me to be curious and approach it with the mindset that anything was possible. She's also a big rock for me both in running and in life. At 10:15am we were off. The last few marathons I have raced I've been trying to break three hours so my goal pace was around 6:50. Given my goal for this day, which was to finish strong and happy, I was resolved to dial it back and run what felt good, no pace goal. Right off the gun I got excited and started cruising at my typical race pace. Based on experience, I knew that was not going to make for the day I had in mind, so I calibrated for the next few miles and settled into an effort that felt solid but manageable. The night before my friend, Samantha, had texted me and asked if I'd ever raced a marathon without a watch. I told her that I hadn't but that I'd always been tempted to try. Once I passed mile three, I made a conscious decision to stop looking at my watch for the rest of the race. If I wanted to feel good and finish smiling than I needed to let go of time and focus on how my body was handling things. If I was getting tired, I'd back off. If I felt good, I could pick it up. But time was no longer part of the equation. It was incredibly liberating.

Miles 7-14 (7:00, 7:10, 7:06, 7:11, 7:13, 7:08, 7:16, 7:13)

I took my first gel at mile six. I did a mental check from head to toe and made sure I was in tune with how I was feeling. So far so good. My friend and teammate, Lauren, told me she was going to be at mile fourteen with her family so that was my next benchmark. I think this part of any marathon is the hardest. You have to be focused and locked in but you are nowhere near the finish. And while you're working hard and trying to be in the moment, it's easy to zone out and get a little bored. This is usually when I tell myself that moving forward I'll probably just focus on shorter distances. You can laugh. I always do after the fact. I got through the Wellesley tunnel, easily the loudest part of the race, and then focused on finding Lauren and crew.

Miles 15-21 (7:16, 7:00, 7:20, 7:21, 7:01, 7:16, 7:31)

Success. I smiled and waved like a champ. It was so fun to see their familiar faces. I also felt like it was safe to quietly celebrate getting to this point. Not that I was making any assumptions on the rest of the race. I wasn't. I've learned that lesson the hard way. We probably all have. I was doing my damndest to smile at every single photographer I saw. You can see that I was doing a pretty good job with this. I rolled up and down the hills with gratitude and grit. I wasn't remotely concerned about my pace (I know I keep saying this, but it's such a foreign concept for me) as I climbed and descended. Heartbreak hill was my slowest split of the day but it didn't hurt nearly as bad as it usually does without the pressure of a goal time. Once I was up and over, I knew I had enough in me to finish strong. I've truly never felt like this with five miles to go. Ever. To say it was amazing is an understatement. 

Miles 22-26.2 (7:04, 7:08, 6:58, 7:00, 7:17, 6:59)

My legs and feet had started to feel heavy and tired just before the hills. Once I got past this section I was so mentally ecstatic to be finishing the last piece of this adventure that I forgot all about how beat up they'd been feeling. Joy was literally pouring into my body. Like, I could feel it. I was able to pick it up and start cruising. The crowd here is insane. Normally, I'm borderline dying or hobbling or throwing up and I don't notice this electric vibe of awesomeness. Not this time. I felt it all. Every person I locked eyes with; they would nod or cheer or scream & that is what propelled me to the finish line. That and the notion that I'd done what I'd set out to do. I had been smart. Stayed in control. Listened to my body. All of it. And because of this I was smiling ear to ear for the last few miles. What a gift.

Exhibit A - Arms up!!

Exhibit B - Clap it up!

Exhibit C - FUCK YEAH!

I crossed the line in 3:08.06. I was beyond thrilled. I texted my husband....BEST MARATHON!!!  I've run a lot of these babies. Many have been good. A few have been great. Most have been garbage. This one was easily taking a top spot on my list. Everything had unfolded the way I'd hoped and planned. The weather had been perfect. My stomach had agreed with me. And, because I wasn't a moron and ran the way I knew I needed to in order to have the day I wanted, my body had held up beautifully. I had such a bad taste in my mouth after my last Boston experience. I can now say the slate has been wiped clean and, once again, I am totally smitten.  Will I do it again? I honestly don't know. But all signs are pointing to probably. As far as what's next for me? I truly have no idea. I just want to bask in the glory of this feeling for a few more days. Recognizing, again, how much I love this sport and all that it gives me. Good. Bad. All of it. I tell my Lex athletes all the time....you have to KNOW YOUR WHY. I'd lost this a little bit over the last year or so. On Monday it all came flooding back in. So. Much. Love. Thank you, running. And thank you, Boston. You're glorious. Both of you.

Listen to this:

Euphoria by Talia Rae

Talia Rae · Euphoria