“You do not get to win shitbird, we do”
-Carver “The Wire”
A
crude start I know but bear with me. I’m going to do my best to make
this a running-centric race report. However I was seven blocks away
when the bombs went off on Monday celebrating as good of a race as I’ve
ever run. That joy disappeared quickly as everyone quickly tried to
establish where friends and family were and thankfully (for me) everyone
I know was safe and sound. However, the feeling of success and
accomplishment that came with my effort and sacrifices over the past 26
weeks was gone. I’m still not sure if it’ll ever completely come 100%
back but writing this is a statement of sorts (albeit a fairly personal
and non-important one in the grand scheme of things): you do not get to
win. We (runners, volunteers, the first responders, the city of Boston,
etc.) do.
I
was still in Boston (Newton more specifically) when the lockdown
happened on Friday. The three adults in the house were left to follow
the latest news on our phones, wondering if we were going to be allowed
to leave our friend’s home that day while we kept the kids distracted
with videos and why they couldn’t play outside on such a nice day. I
thought I was processing the week’s events fine (it sounds like an
absurd thing to say but we had an amazing vacation outside of the events
related to the bombing) until I was on a run on Saturday, heard a
helicopter and I immediately got sick to my stomach. Guess it’ll be
awhile after all. In the meantime, it’s therapeutic to get to talk
about the race and all the minutiae us runners can’t get enough of.
It’s a nice counterbalance to the dynamic Andi so eloquently described
of having to describe a fiercely personal experience with people you
have no desire to have said conversation with. So with that, on to the
good stuff.
Pre-race:
As anyone reading this
knows, it’s been a very up and down training cycle. For the most part,
taking on my hardest training cycle ever has shown definitive benefits
and I’d been able to stay fairly strong. That being said, the burnout
bug hit with avengence about 4-5 weeks out and thanks to a lot of people
doing seemingly little things to help I was able to turn it around and
get myself to the line. I made a deal with myself on the flight out; no
matter what happened time wise in the race, I was going to enjoy the
experience and have a great vacation with the family. Again, the
burnout bug doesn’t get to win; I do. I’d done the training I needed to
run well; did I just have the self confidence and game plan to execute
it?
We
had a great leadup to the race: hit the expo on Friday, took in my
first game @ Fenway Saturday and watched Becca run a great 5k on Sunday
after having dealt with injuries most of the past 4 months. This whole
time I was processing how I was going to attack the race and at what
sort of pace. I’d been training at a 2:50 pie in the sky goal pace but
knew as I got closer that very likely wasn’t in the cards. Instead, I
remembered BillA advice about how to attack the course and remembered my
own experiences of going out to fast in 2010 and having my quads feel
like hamburger at 16. Determined not to repeat my mistakes, I decided
to start slow, stay controlled through 16, use my hill training to not
fade in the hills and then pin the ears back and attack, attack, attack
over the last 5 miles.
Race Day:
The
morning of the race was pretty uneventful. Chad, Andi and I all ended
up on the same bus and outside of jokes here and there, we all were
pretty dialed in. Well except when I had to point out to Chad on the
walk to the start that given his Polish stock, he might want some
sunscreen. :-) I had a pace band with 2:52:30 on it that was based on
the course and my general plan. Within four miles, I started to sweat a
little as while I very purposely stayed in the pack and just ran
controlled I’d already given up 30 seconds off said pace. Becca
mentioned she was very worried at the 5k split as I’d started out much
slower than my general plan and didn’t want to deal with me at the end
if that’s how things were going to go :-) Mostly though I just reminded
myself to look up, enjoy the crowds and stay controlled as we had a
long while to go.
Miles
6-10 were pretty uneventful; I got pounded at 6 miles while giving
high-fives to a bunch of fairly drunk college students who were singing
“ole ole ole.” (quite literally; I took multiple shots to the body and
head and almost lost my hat) After that, I chose to run the middle of
the road more often. I also noticed sloshing at 8; as Chad mentioned
afterwards hydration was tricky because the clouds were definitely
shifting the conditions quite a bit. In short, I got through 10 in
control and while not feeling fresh feeling strong.
Right
about then though I had a massive side stitch start up, which
definitely gave me some worries. In fact right before Wellesley I
contemplated stopping to try to work it out. However, I told myself
that if I stopped then, it was going to be a very long day. Just keep
running and hope it disappears. I got through the ladies (this time not
stopping for a kiss) and through the half about a minute off of my pace
band time. At that point I was feeling ok and hoping that I could make
up some ground on the backside. Again though it was all about control,
control, control.
Finally
hit 16 and it was body check time. I was shocked how good I felt; the
quads were barely showing signs of wear and I felt strong. Even though I
didn’t feel great at that point and was worried that the side stitch
might come back, it gave me hope that the plan was going well. All along
the way I reminded myself to enjoy the view.
With
that it was onto the Newton hills. I remembered hating the overpass
that represents the first hill in 2010. This year I was almost all the
way up it before I even realized where I was. Definitely a good sign of
things to come. Thankfully, I also had my cheer squad waiting for me
just past 19. As a result, I could split up the hills into two more
doable sections. Just three miles to Becca, which I navigated pretty
smoothly and then two after that up and over heartbreak.
As
some of you know, I got into a bit of trouble in 2010; I stopped to
kiss a Wellesley girl but barely stopped to acknowledge my wife and even
threw down the surprise banana she’d given me in disgust, with
photographic evidence to back up my transgressions. I’d been planning
(but hadn’t told Becca) to make up for it this time around. As I hit
19, I started looking for her in the crowd. While I couldn’t find her,
thankfully my friend was just a bit taller and gave me a indicator where
she was. As I got close, she went to hand me my supplies. Instead of
taking them I stopped, gave her a huge kiss THEN took the gear and
headed back out on the road. All of our friends watching were
confused/shocked and evidently she just smiled and said “he owed me that
one.”
I
tend to look at my watch quite a bit while racing. This day I was using
it to check the miles but otherwise I was just in a groove. I just kept
cranking, remembering that these hills were cake vs. doing the Lake Run
course and the many midday week runs up Mt. Tabor. The last two miles
of heartbreak were the first that were significantly under my pace band.
At that point, I knew I was getting stronger and it was time to go!
Once
over heartbreak (and the next dip no one ever tells you about), I
pinned my ears back and went after it. In 2010 the only things I
remember from the last 5 miles were the Citgo sign, that damn underpass
right before Hereford and a bit of the finish stretch. This time around I
could remember it all. I was feeding off the crowds, pushing the pace
harder and harder as I started getting closer. 5 to go, 4 to go, etc.
I even asked for a Sox score from the crowd at 22. Which was either
brilliant or the starting signs of delirium.
Between
23 & 24 I started to tighten a bit; the attack strategy over
heartbreak was already starting to work on my quads. But I just started
to lock in and was developing total tunnel vision. I evidently passed
Len at this point but even though I could see the NAC jersey it didn’t
register to me that it would be him. The pain was definitely taking
hold: however in what little conversation I could have with myself at
that point, I reminded myself that my own nervousness, burnout and
general crisis of confidence I’d had leading up to the race was not
going to win over all the work I’d put in and sacrifices I’d made to get
to that point.
I
hit 24 and knew I had a good chance at 2:55. Hit 25 and my brain was
too muddled to do the 1.2 math and while I was still continuing to pass
large swaths of people, my body was really starting to redline. However,
when the one mile to go sign popped up, I suddenly realized that not
only was 2:55 in reach, but 2:54 was as well. About the same time, my
foot tried to cramp up on me. In mid stride, I shifted my stride,
slammed the foot into the street and thought to myself, not today.
Today I get to win.
Next
was the underpass and with it an unexpected surprise. Right as I was
heading down, what do I see coming up the other side? A Lizard singlet.
But not any singlet. Chad’s singlet.
He’d
joked in training that he didn’t want me to come tap on his shoulder
during the race. As we left for our differing corrals on race day, I
jokingly said “see you in Newton.” And while the margin I had to make
up likely wasn’t going to happen in the 800 or so meters left in the
race, it was the jump start I needed to drive my legs just that bit
harder.
I
haven’t bought them yet, but the marathon photos of me in the home
stretch kind of surprised me. I’m obviously VERY dialed in as I’m
obviously eyeing Chad on the turn, while telling my calves to not seize
up (on both the turns to Hereford and Boylston they got about 3/4 of the
way there before easing up). I hit Boylston and took a brief second to
throw my arms up and enjoy the moment. After that it was just attack,
attack, attack through the finish line. I knew at that point I couldn’t
catch Chad but I wanted to make it as close as possible and get under
2:54.
Finish:
Huge
scream after realizing I just scored a massive PR. Threw my hat in the
air, thankfully catching it (otherwise it would have gotten left
because there was no way I was reaching down for it). I eventually
caught up with Chad, leading him to utter a few choice words upon seeing
my recent arrival. :-) We catch up for a few seconds until we realize
that we’re accidently photobombing Joan Samuelson’s TV interview. From
there it was bags/massage/shower and then off to the bar for a
celebratory beer with Chad, his family and some friends. All the work,
all the sacrifices paid off in a big way. It will forever be associated
with the events of marathon day and beyond but at least by writing this
I can remind myself of the enjoyable moments and the thrill that came
with the day on those days when the other memories have taken hold.
I
was talking about Boston with a non-running friend of mine on Sunday
and I realize why it matters so much for me. I’ve always loved the city
(I’ve been a Sox fan since I was a kid, almost went to college there,
have visited there more than any other city I haven’t lived in) and just
love the feel of the event. As a fairly intense runner but someone who
has a family and even refuses to run 7 days a week, I definitely have
been known to coast between (or sometimes even during) training cycles.
However, Boston always brings out my best because of the respect I have
for the event, the efforts of everyone there and just the feeling the
race, the amazing crowds and the city as a whole gives you. I’m never
going to be an elite runner but damn it if Boston doesn’t make me feel
as important as those toeing the line on race day.
I
was going to take a very extended (2-4 year) break off of marathons
after this Boston-Big Sur adventure. However, both in experiencing
Boston again and the events of the past week have left me knowing I only
have one choice; toeing the line in Hopkinton on April 21st 2014. I
may not run a PR but I’ll be there to give something back to the
crowds/volunteer/race that has always caused me to give my best.
Because you know what? The horrible moments of that day and beyond
don’t get to win. The people and the city do. So Boston? See you next
year.
Brian
Number nerds, feast on the splits below:
Final Time: 2:53:45 (86:45-87:00)
5k splits:
5k:20:59
10k:20:26 (41:25)
15k:20:23 (1:01:48)
20k:20:29 (1:22:17)
25k:20:24 (1:42:41)
30k:20:56 (2:03:37)
35k:20:56 (2:24:33)
40k:20:27 (2:45:00)
Finish: 2:53:45
mile splits (actually taken at markers vs. garmin)
1:7:01
2:6:40
3:6:36
4:6:34
5:6:34
6:6:33
7:6:31
8:6:36
9:6:33
10:6:37
11:6:38
12:6:30
13:6:36
14:6:31
15:6:38
16:6:27
17-18:13:41 (6:50 pace)
19:6:37
20:6:49
21:6:59
22-23:13:09 (6:35 pace)
24:6:26
25:6:37
26:6:25
26.2:1:20 (5:58 pace)
