Me, just after the race
Over a week later, I finally have time to re-cap the Boston Marathon. The morning after the marathon, I jumped on a plane to Dallas to attend the National Lung Cancer Partnership’s Advocacy Summit and was immersed in all things lung cancer for about 5 days, so there wasn’t a minute to blog. I’ll be blogging about that soon. Right now, it’s all about catch-up! So here goes:
The afternoon before the race, I went to a pasta dinner with the other 560 members of the Dana Farber team where we heard from past Boston Marathon winners Bill Rodgers and Uta Pippig, as well as our coach Jack Fultz, the 1976 winner of the marathon. They didn’t really have too much advice for us at this point, with the big question being “What will the weather be like?” With Boston, that’s always the question. By the time the night before the race rolls around, there’s not much left to learn. But the weather can make or break a good race experience.
It seemed clear was that we weren’t going to have heat, which was a relief. Temps were expected in the 40’s and 50’s and overcast. Perfect. But, there would be headwinds. Those winds could be as strong as 35 mph, right in our face, particularly towards the end when we were really hurting. So how to dress? Coach Jack suggested layering – but not discarding any layers as one usually does because the weather was projected to get colder as the day progressed and as we moved closer to the city. He ended up being better than the Farmer’s Almanac with that prediction!
All of the other marathons I’ve done before have been with Team in Training, specifically the Los Angeles chapter of TNT. It’s a phenomenal group that makes sure you’re looked after every step of the way. It’s particularly great for first-time marathoners because you’re assigned a mentor, someone who’s been through the program before and can help you with all of the logistics.
The Dana Farber approach is much more hands-off, which took some getting used to for a former TNT girl. There are no mentors, very few emails, a kind of DIY approach. This definitely held true on race morning, but more on that in a minute.
I met Lisa at 6am at her hotel and we walked over to Boston Common to board the yellow school buses to Hopkinton with 20,000 other marathoners. It was unbelievable. We waited in line for about 35 minutes, and we were off.
Waiting for the bus
While waiting in line, and in Hopkinton itself, I had a little bit of a reality check. This whole time, we’ve been training with other “charity runners”, aka, people who didn’t qualify with a superfast time. The truth is, the majority of Boston’s runners are “qualifiers” – aka superfast and “serious” runners. It was a little daunting.
Somehow, the 26.2 mile bus ride to Hopkinton always takes an hour. On the freeway, going at least 55 mph. You can imagine our apprehension about that. And in our case, the bus driver actually got lost, so it took 1.5 hours. Nothing like that to get a few nerves crackling.
Lisa and I, on the bus
When we finally arrived at Athlete’s Village, which is a series of tents and porta-potties surrounding Hopkinton High School, we needed those porta-poties – bad. Hopkinton is a pretty small town outside of Boston and there are actually barns dotted about. When we disembarked the bus, we were shocked to see the barns being used as makeshift porta-potties, with marathoning ladies squatting right next to each other out in the open under the “shelter” of the barns. We soon realized why when we saw the lines for the porta potties. But we couldn’t bring ourselves to squat next to strangers, so we queued up to relieve ourselves in porta-potty land.
While waiting, we chatted with this lean runner, a man in his 60’s from California. We asked if he’d done Boston before and he told us that he had, several times. At the end of last year’s race, he’d actually had heart attack symptoms and was rushed to Mass General. But he was back again. Hmmm… where were those buses again??
Lisa and I in Athlete's Village
Me in Athlete's Village
35 minutes later, when we’d finally used the facilities, we only had about 20 minutes before the race started and we had to get rid of our bags. All runners are given bright yellow bags to carry extra snacks, water, a change of clothes for the end, etc, to Hopkinton. Once at the Athlete’s Village, everyone put our bags on buses numbered by our race bibs so that we could pick them up at the end of the race, just after we crossed the finish line.
Everyone except Dana Farber runners, that is. Being a Dana Farber team member, I had to take my bag to a separate location, away from Athlete’s Village – and no one seemed to know where that location was. We wandered around and around, hoping to find this mysterious “Dana Farber refuge” but nothing. I was almost in tears, thinking I’d have to carry this enormous bag through the marathon. Lisa, my running partner, tried to calm me down, saying maybe we could give it to her boyfriend Jeremy at mile 6. But I didn’t want to carry it 6 miles. This wasn’t how I’d envisioned the start of the Boston Marathon, filled with stress and anxiety.
By now, I was sprinting through the streets of Hopkinton trying to find the location when I miraculously saw a familiar face amongst the 28,000 or so - Heather Hagerty, a fellow runner and race director I’d been meeting with about doing a lung cancer 5K. She pointed me in the right direction, but when I got there, they said the Dana Farber bus had left. I was devastated. Luckily, a woman kindly agreed to take the bag and leave it in the Marriott’s lost and found in Copley Square. The Marriott was where we were all supposed to meet post-race, and the only problem with this new plan was that the bus that my bag had missed was going to be near the finish line, and in it was a poncho to identify me as a Dana Farber runner so that a volunteer could escort my exhausted self to the Marriot. Without that poncho, I’d have to make my way to the hotel myself. Oh well. You can’t have it all.
Next, we had to find the start line, and sadly, these Dana Farber volunteers didn’t seem to know where it was. We wandered back into the streets of Hopkinton, just following anyone who seemed to be walking in the right direction until we found it. There, Lisa and I realized that our different bib numbers put us in different corrals - which meant that technically we couldn’t run together. We weren’t ready for another snag in our plans, so Lisa covered her bib number with her arms, we snuck into the first corral we saw and stood there innocently til the race began.
With the lost bus delay, then the impossible to find Dana Farber area and long-gone bus debacle, I hadn’t had time to tie my shoes properly, and we suddenly found ourselves in this corral, inching quickly towards the start line. I hurriedly re-tied my laces – but a little too tight. “I’ll fix it later” I thought. There wasn’t a later.
Before we knew it, the race began!
Mile 1: We’d done this before during the 21 miler training run, but I hadn’t remembered the beginning being quite so steep. Woooo!! This was fun!
Mile2-5: Here, we were just getting our sea legs, hitting 10 minute even splits at each mile which was about 15 seconds faster per mile than we’d planned, but we thought “We can slow down later.” Those are the famous last words of every marathoner!! We actually thought we were slowing down, but we weren't really. Adrenaline and momentum were moving us quickly through the downhill miles. During these miles, I was able to look at my bracelet at every mile and think very coherent thoughts about each person I was running for. Nora, Vartan, Irene, etc…
At one point, Lisa needed to use the porta-potty and since I was still feeling good, I had to decide whether to wait for her or not. I decided I would, but probably not if she needed to go again because I had a time goal. We'd already discussed that this was each of our own races and that we'd respect each other's decision to stay or go depending on how we felt. At the same time, I wanted to stay with her as long as possible.
At around mile 5 or so, we went through an area where someone was playing the Elvis song “I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You.” That was one of my mother’s favorite songs and one that we sang together several times at karaoke, so it immediately made me think of her. During the entire race, there were only a few songs that I heard, and that was one of them.
Mile 6: Framingham Train Depot. This was our first spot to see someone we knew. Lisa’s boyfriend Jeremy, her Dad and family were expected here. We were so excited to see them because for some reason, those had been 6 long miles. Anxious miles. Quick hug and a wave, and we were off again!
The next few miles were really boring and not terribly attractive. I’d miscalculated when I thought I’d see my old high school friend Erin, and thought I’d missed her, but was happy when we saw her (with a sign with my name on it!) around mile 10. I also saw my old college friend Heather Riley. So cool to see these old friends. I haven’t seen them in over 12 years and the first time I see them again is on the Boston Marathon course.
Once out of Natick, we headed towards Wellesley – which we’d been told would be unlike anything we’d ever experienced before. About half a mile before Wellesley College, we heard this roar. And then we realized it was the Wellesley girls. Thousands and thousands of screaming – and I mean screaming – college girls lined the streets and most had signs to the effect of “Free kisses from Wellesley Girls” It was SUCH a rush, and it was unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
I was hoping to see my Aunt Susan in Wellesley Center, but never saw her, so we just kept trucking.
Somewhere between Wellesley and Route 128, Lisa needed to go to the loo again. This time, there was no question of whether I’d stop or not. I was stopping. Not to use the facilities, but to stretch for a few minutes. I was grateful for her bladder’s needs. Even though we were only at mile 14 or so of a 26.2 mile race, I was already tightening up and needed some time to stretch. For whatever reason, we were both really feeling it after Wellesley and were trying to snap out of it. We ate more goo, thought of our inspirations for the race, but it was tiring. Exhausting, really.
That’s one of the weird things about marathons. 14 miles during a training run can be piece of cake, but the same distance during a marathon can feel like 100 miles. At this point in the race – which had been mostly downhill – I was zonked. I think it’s mostly nerves and adrenaline and all kinds of other things going on (4 hours of sleep the night before) but I knew it would pass, and it did.
At about mile 16, when we were at the 128 freeway, Lisa was falling behind a little bit and that’s where we separated. I knew she'd make it, but she had to do it at her own pace, as did I.
Within a mile, the Heartbreak Hills would begin. I knew that stretch was coming, and mentally started to prepare. It was really important to me to run the entire 4 mile stretch. I knew it would be hard, but I also knew with all of the hill training I’d been doing that I could do it. I saw the fire station in Newton approaching, saw Commonwealth Ave getting closer and revved up. I made the right turn and just kept going.
I’d been on that hill so many times before during training runs, but it seemed so different now. For one thing it was packed from beginning to end with spectators, so it was hard to tell where the hard parts were, where the “actual” heartbreak hill (the last of the 4 hills) began. I had some of my most personal and inspiring “in memory of” people lined up for this section, including my ex Evan, a Boston finisher, and my mom. They helped, but there were parts of this period where my mind was blank and I just kept thinking “keep going, keep going, don’t stop, don’t stop” – and that’s all I could muster.
Somehow, I made it through all 4 miles without having to walk. I dug deep, used all manner of mind tricks and crested the hill.
Once over the hill, I started to fade – and fast. I had one thing to keep me going, which was I knew I’d see Chuck at Boston College in his maroon BC jacket. Only problem was, everyone was wearing BC maroon. There were thousands of screaming BC kids urging us on – it was almost surreal. I was scanning the sea of maroon trying to pick Chuck out of the crowd, but never managed to spot him. I found out later, he was there, and had in fact waited 2 hours to see me. He managed to see Lisa, but missed me. At any rate, as I headed into Cleveland Circle, I was feeling relatively miserable – with 4.5 miles to go!
By now, I was fairly zombie-like and all of the spectators seemed kind of superfluous. They were screaming their heads off, but they faded into the background. At Washington Street, I saw my morning hills partner Beth which gave me momentary joy, but by the next block, I was back in pain again. I had to walk a few times, for maybe 30 seconds each time, but prodded myself back into a crawl-like run/jog. I kept thinking “Where’s mile 24??” I thought if I could get to mile 24, the end really would seem near. But it just wouldn’t come. I used one trick that Lisa had told me about, something she learned from an interview with British marathon champion Paula Radcliffe. Apparently Paula counts to 100 when times get tough, over and over again. I counted to 100 at least 4 times in the last 3 miles, just to have something to focus on, a goal to hit in my mind.
When I began this marathon-length tale of my experience, I mentioned that Lisa and I started a little bit too fast. In fact, we did the first half marathon at about 15 seconds per mile too fast which might not seem like a big deal – but I paid the price from about the end of Heartbreak Hill til mile 24.5.
Trudging along, I had just re-started my engine from one of those recovery walks when I saw a couple of cheering blondes to my left – it was my Aunt Karen and cousin Emilee! They really did lift my spirits.
Before I knew it, mile 24 had arrived… then I entered Kenmore Square- elation and more cheering crowds – including tons of BU kids. I wasn’t sprinting, but was holding my own just plod/jogging along.
Then, finally, mile 25. I knew my Dad, sister Jenny and her boyfriend would be near the finish, at the corner of Hereford and Boylston Streets, about 4 blocks from the end. Dad is notoriously early, someone you can count on to be there when you ask him to be. Sure enough, there they were, waving signs and smiling. This was a great moment. I turned left to Boylston and now it was mine. The finish line really was near. Unlike some finish lines this one wasn’t too far once it was in sight… going, going, gone.
I finished!
I also wasn’t as immediately in pain as I sometimes am, but it most certainly crept up on me. By the time I got my chip off and received my medal, 5 minutes or so after crossing the finish line, tightness began to set in and a mind-blowing cold. The temperatures felt at least 20 degrees cooler than when we’d started and the winds were unreal. Added to the fact that I had no idea how to get to the Marriott without my Dana Farber poncho and escort, I was a sight to behold. Some officials actually asked if I’d like a wheelchair, but I managed to hobble to the Marriott where I promptly received a post-race massage. I couldn’t stop trembling, so they decided to check my blood pressure, but everything was fine. 110 over 60. Just like it always is when I’m not running a marathon. I was just cold.
I left the runner’s area after a cup of hot soup and met up with Dad, Jenny, Eddie and Chuck, who’d all gotten to know each other while waiting for me to come out.
Me and Dad after the race
Jenny and I after the race
Pictures were taken, then off to an impromptu post-race meal with Aunt Karen and cousins Emilee and Jessica.
Me, Aunt Karen, Emilee and Jessica
At the end of the day, I was so exhausted. I took a bath (not an ice bath) and literally fell asleep in the tub! I finally got out, crawled into bed at 9pm – and woke at 5am to pack for my trip to Dallas!
All in all, it was a great experience and I’ll definitely be doing it again next year. Oh, and my time was 4:41, which was 11 minutes slower than my “goal time” but 12 minutes faster than my previous best – so not bad for me!
I apparently came in 20,000 ish out of 22,000ish which was a little depressing until Lisa reminded me that 28,000 registered!! That means that 6,000 didn’t even finish. I felt better about that! Also, it IS the Boston Marathon, with mostly qualifiers… so it’s ok if I was in the bottom percentile.
Lisa and I after the marathon (ps, Lisa did awesome!)
So far, I’ve raised $3761.20 and am hoping to get that rounded up to a nice neat $4,000 (or more) so if anyone has some spare cash lying around, hasn't donated yet or just would like to donate to a great cause, my fundraising page is still open. Here’s the link again:
http://www.runDFMC.org/juliag2009
Thank you to EVERYONE who supported me - either with a donation or with words of encouragement. I know my mother would have been proud. I just know it. I plan on doing it again next year - but next year, for a different charity, hopefully one that benefits lung cancer 100%. That's one of my big goals for this year, to start a Boston Marathon Lung Cancer Team. I hope to have all of your support next year - and maybe a few of you on the team???!!?
Love to you all... and stay posted. I'll be blogging about the summit in Dallas soon as well!
