Pain and Popsicles (2012 Boston Marathon)

It's been over a month since I ran the Boston Marathon and I have thought about sitting down to write this recap almost everyday.  Yes, I have been busy getting settled here in Utah, but I probably could have gotten to this sooner.  Here's the short version in case you don't have time for this novel: I ran the Boston Marathon, I ran it a lot slower than I wanted to, it was really hot, I had fun, I still love running, I still love marathons, I have the best and most supportive family, and I will be back for redemption.

I have wanted to run this race since I first heard about Boston and its status as running mecca.  It's truly an honor to line up at the start of the most historic and prestigious marathon in the world - and to know that everyone around you had to earn their spot there.  I knew that this might be my one and only Boston, so I trained really hard to line up ready to run a strong race.

Also, it's no exaggeration to say that we moved heaven and earth (okay, slight exaggeration) to get there.  When we realized our move was going to coincide so closely with the race, I considered backing out and finding another spring marathon closer to New Bern.  Josh reminded me that it might be my only chance, so we decided to just make it work.  We scheduled our move around the marathon, drove through ten states to get there, and my sweet mom (and my original running inspiration) took time out of her schedule to fly out and help us.  We got in the car to head up there only after spending three days supervising packers and movers at our house (probably not the best tapering strategy, but oh well).

And then the projected temperature started to climb up and up.  The heat warnings really started to freak me out.  They started offering the deferrals to run the race next year, which was unprecedented for Boston to do.  I honestly considered taking the deferral and finding another marathon to run.  Looking back, I'm SO glad I didn't do that.  We were already in Boston and it would have been really silly for me to not run it.  So I changed my strategy and decided to run slow.

Monday morning (race day) I walked out of my hotel and headed over to Boston Commons to catch the bus up to Hopkinton, the tiny town where the race starts.   Even though the race has a 10 a.m. start, you have to be on the bus by 6 a.m. in order to get everyone up there on time.  I had fun listening to all the accents and other languages.  We were all carrying our drop bags, which had our names and home city/state/country, so I looked around to see where everyone was from.  I saw people from Sweden, Australia, the UK, Germany, Brazil, and all over the U.S.  I started to get excited and boarded the bus.  On the way up, I sat next to a guy who was running his fourth Boston.  He gave me some tips and reminded me that having fun should be the priority of the day.  The buses pulled in to Athlete's Village.

This is the staging area and everyone hangs out here for a few hours before the race start.  They have music playing, free bagels and coffee, and 25,000 nervous runners.  It was already VERY WARM by about 9 a.m.  In fact, just sitting around, I started sweating.  I talked with Josh a couple of times, and texted back and forth with a guy I knew from the New Bern running club who was there (never did find him). 

Another iPhone picture of Athlete's Village.  Most of the time, the start is very cold and everyone huddles around in warm clothes before the start.  Not this year!

Finally, it was time to head to our corrals.  And we were off!  Right away, you can tell Boston is not your typical marathon.  There are spectators lining the streets the entire way, through Hopkinton, Natick, Newton, Framingham, Brookline.  And they cheer for you like you're the only runner out there.

It became apparent quickly that it was going to be a long, hard day.  It is not a good sign when you are sweating before you even start running.  I can honestly say that this was the toughest race I've ever run - and it was my second slowest marathon ever. There were times - especially during the early miles - when I honestly wasn't sure I would be able to finish. 

But it was still Boston.  The crowds were amazing and I tried to soak it all in.  I high fived every kid who put his hand out for me.  At the halfway point, I could hear the Wellesley girls screaming from a half mile away.  Running through the infamous "scream tunnel" there gave me the mental boost I needed to convince myself I was going to finish.  I grabbed the hand of a Wellesley girl with a North Carolina sign and she looked right at me and said "you go girl!".

My strategy for dealing with the heat was just to take it mile-by-mile.  Each water stop I convinced myself to run another mile and grabbed two cups of water, one to drink and one to dump on my head.  I carried a handheld water bottle, I ran through every single hose and spray station, I took orange slices from little kids, I ate a salt packet when my legs started to cramp up, and at one point (I'm sort of embarrassed to admit this), I ate a popsicle.  There were very fit people pulling off the road all over the place, and hoards of people walking starting around mile ten.  I think there were a lot of really good runners that were humbled that day.

Around mile 22, I met a girl named Arden from San Diego.  She was running her seventh Boston Marathon.  We started chatting and decided to run the last few miles together.  I was so happy to have someone to distract me.  As we got closer to the city, she pointed out the big Citgo sign which meant we were getting close.  At this point, the crowds are 5, 6, 7 people deep and everyone is screaming.  I was in pain here, but not the typical end-of-the-marathon pain.  My legs weren't heavy and my breathing was fine, but my feet had sloshed around in wet shoes for so long (because of dumping all the water over my head), that my toes were full of blisters.  My legs were also cramping up again, which is a sign of dehydration.  I took another packet of salt and Arden and I picked it up a little bit to the end.

Then, we turned right on Hereford and left on Boylston.  The crowds were just crazy at this point and I had a big smile on my face.  It was not the race I hoped to run - I finally crossed the finish line in 4:23, an hour slower than my goal - but it was my experience and I was very grateful for it.

Some more pictures:

With my girlies, who had fun playing at the park with daddy and Bubba while I was running.  

With my mom, in her Boston visor!  I was so glad she was there.  My mom inspired me clear back when I was 12 years old and I watched her finish the St. George Marathon. 

 

With Josh, my biggest cheerleader in his Boston shirt.  He was there for me at another marathon finish, with another bottle of chocolate milk for me. :) 

 All showered and done and we headed out for dinner. 

And a few more pictures from our trip:

Hanging out in our hotel room.  I forgot to mention that the week before the race (in the middle of the move), the girls both got a cold, which I got, and which then resulted in a massive case of hives all over Josie's body and a horrible ear infection for Piper requiring a shot of antibiotics and had our pediatrician warning us that we might need to find a good children's hospital in Boston.  Seriously!  They were troopers though and everyone pulled through it.  

The girls had their first big city experience in Boston and we rode the T all over town the whole trip.  Josie called it a "school bus" and was not down with riding it with us holding her standing up.  "Daddy sit down!" resulted in a couple of strangers offering their seats to us. 

 We also made it to the Children's Museum (Piper was in a mood and would not look at the camera). 

 Wearing Bubba's glasses

 

When I finished the race, Josh asked me if I wanted to run Boston again.  My first response was that I didn't felt like I needed to.  I crossed it off my list and could move on to other things.  But I think I've changed my mind.  I think I'll be back again at some point.  Who knows what the conditions will be like, but as a whole, you can't beat the experience.   This quote sums it up:


"You can never be sure. That's what makes the marathon both fearsome and fascinating. The deeper you go into the unknown, the more uncertain you become. But then you finish. And you wonder later, 'How did I do that?' This question compels you to keep making the journey from the usual to the magical."
-Joe Henderson