The Boston Marathon!
Monday 17th April 2017
Unsurprisingly, we were up and awake early (4:30am); filled to the brim with excitement. At 5am our alarm went off and I began the last minute preparations: checking kit bag, tying and re-tying my hair several times and applying gallons of sun cream (although, from the look of my face and arms now - still not enough sun cream!). Finally, After watching the Maestro become more and more anxious as Dave dressed and redressed, packed and repacked...we left the apartment at 6am and took the short walk to the station.
We were expecting chaos as 30,000 people descended on central Boston. Surprisingly, it was rather quiet...we boarded the train and got seats with great ease. Arriving in Boston Park, once again it was eerily quiet! Where was everyone? As we headed towards the bag drop, the crowds did pick up but clearly going early was a good strategy -well done Maestro!
After a quick toilet stop (of course!) and dropping off our bags, we boarded the buses (7:10am) , to take us to the start, which were the 'classic' American school buses that you see in all the films - AMAZING! When we got on, 2 things struck me:
1) If these were English school buses, they'd be covered in chewing gum and graffiti.
- They weren't - they were absolutely immaculate!
2) There were no seat belts - scary!
The journey to the start took about an hour. We all chatted to a few other runners while I enjoyed my favourite pre-race breakfast - egg fried rice with orange cheese; the perfect race fuel - I'm sure that's what the elites have!
Once we'd arrived at the runners' village (8:15am), the excitement really kicked in...as did the nerves. I felt like I might puke at any moment! We walked into the first of two fields which were both lined with 1000's of porta-loos with - get this- NO QUEUES! I was incredibly impressed with the American efficiency - step aside Germans ...the Americans have out-organised you!
We then had a serious bit of waiting to do. We found some shade, sat down, removed our shoes and just relaxed. After a while, two very well prepared girls (who had brought a blanket with them) left to join the, now enormous, toilet queue. When they left, they asked if we wanted it - hell yeah! Now very comfortable in a horizontal position we were really making the most of this rest!
At 9:10am John and Marcus' wave was leaving and walking to the stat line. This is the part I'd not been looking forward to. Having spent pretty much every second at John's side for a considerable amount of time, I found it rather difficult saying goodbye and watching him and Marcus head to the start line without me. I wasn't on my own though, Dave and I spent yet more time relaxing and chatting to some American's - getting last minute tips! At 9:40am we headed for the startline - woohoo!
It was about a half mile walk to the start. My legs were feeling good - the temperature was hot but not unbearable, and I was feeling pumped. Just time for one more toilet stop - and, once again, the porta-loos were clean, still had toilet paper and hand sanitiser and very short queues - amazing! While we were waiting to join the corrals, we heard the national anthem of America being played and saw two very impressive looking (and sounding) airplanes go overhead (I think it was like the American equivalent of the red arrows - but not quite so good!). I heard the starting gun and thought of my two special guys starting their marathon journey.
Once the corrals had been emptied, we took up our places. Dave was a few corrals ahead of me so we said our goodbyes and promised to keep an eye out for each other on the course with the aim of running together.
The starting gun sounded and unusually, I didn't move at all! I'm not used to being so far back at the start of a race...I shuffled towards the start, anxious to get moving! So 30,000 people is a lot. More than I could comprehend before the race. The start was rammed (as was pretty much the whole race!) I did a bit of weaving to get to a 7mm pace - slower than I would have liked but actually - in hindsight - a slower first mile was definitely a good thing!
I managed to get a bit of space and pick up the pace for the next 3 miles (6:49, 6:41 and 6:47 - all well on target - excellent!). Dave also managed to spot me around mile 2 and we began running together; I was very grateful of some company.
While you'll hear people talk of the massive net down hill of the first part of the race, the downhill is punctuated - frequently- with short, sharp uphills. By mile 5, I was starting to feel very very hot. This worried me considerably as, clearly, I still had a very long way to go! Right, I thought to myself, I need to be taking on lots of water and doing everything in my power to keep my core temperature down. I began taking water at every water station - drinking a little and throwing a LOT over me. Thankfully, there were water stations every mile - on both sides of the road! They also had Gator aid at all the stations, but as I'd not tried it before, I didn't take any at this point.
By mile 6 I was in need of some energy so I had half of my first (of 3) energy gels - 1 mile earlier than planned. I started to worry a little that I was finding this much harder than I was expecting. The constant rolling hills were starting to get on my nerves (oh how I longed for the lovely flat Weston Prom course and oh how I was sorry that I'd ever complained of the slight incline!) and I was a bit worried that this could not go to plan for me. At mile 7, Dave said goodbye - he too was feeling the heat and wanted to pause for a little and then slow down. I was also feeling the need to slow down and without him to push me on, slow down I did (mile 7 = 7:05, mile 8 - 7:21).
The race seemed to be taking ages. It was bright sunshine still - not a cloud in sight and intensely hot. I looked at my watch - only 8 miles! How can I not even be at half way! The thought of running the same again was seriously confidence sapping. I felt like I was working my ass off and only running at 7:30 pace. I remembered some advice from Dave "Run to effort - keep an eye on your hear trate." I checked my heart rate - 190bpm - OH NO! That was dangerously high. I knew there was no way I could keep that up. It was at this point that I decided to slow down. Ignore my gold target, take on more water and try and control my breathing.
Mile 9 went by in 7:32 and mile 10 in 7:43. I was now in a very dark place. Thoughts of stopping, walking, quitting, sleeping or just crying all went through my mind. I just couldn't believe that I wasn't even at half way yet. After mile 11 passing in 8:09 (slower than my Berlin Marathon pace) I realised that I need to buck my ideas up or I wasn't even going to get a PB. What can I do to make this better, I asked myself. Firstly, my race belt was doing my head it. It was heavy and uncomfortable. So I took it off, held my gels instead and throw the pouch at some unsuspecting members of the public. Instantly, I felt lighter and better. Good. A step in the right direction. So, what else could I do to get through this? At each water station, I'd been taking on sips of water but avoiding the Gator aid. You should never try anything new during a race but this desperate times...I decided to just have a little sip. WOW! The feeling was instant. Sugar - clearly my body needed something new. Ok - I told myself. After a few calculations, I worked out that I could get a PB as long as I kept as many miles as possible under 8:00 min mile pace. I decided to take it one mile at a time.
Mile 12 was good - 7:45! The Gator aid was clearly working. On the side, the spectators were holding out ice pops...hmm... I grabbed one - maybe I'll try a little bit - WOW! Literally the best thing! The wonderful mix of sugar, cold and water was exactly what I needed. Just get to half way - I told myself repeatedly. Reaching mile 13 felt good. It's great to know that you are closer to the end that the start now. At mile 13, I rewarded myself with my second gel and lots of water.
Up until now, I'd noticed the awesome crowds but, because of my being in a dark place, I'd not really taken full notice of them. That was until this almighty roar begun to drift into my ears...it had to be the infamous 'Wellesley Collage girls.' Rumor has it that they literally scream at you, holding signs asking for kisses (probably mostly from the fit men - John had been forewarned to keep clear!) and offering high fives. The rumors were very much true! I've never seen so many girls so excited about anything - they were yelling at the top of their voices. One running in front of me was clearly keen to meet their demands for kisses...unfortunately, he didn't slow down and ended up not kissing but headbutting one rather unlucky collage girl! I decided against kissing but did oblige in high-five-ing lots of them and was amazed at the instant positive feeling it gave me. Miles 13, 14 and 15 were still relatively slow on average but I was feeling good and managing to pick up the pace in the downhill sections (mile 13=8:05, 14=8:04, 15 = 6:15).
It was around this point that I went through the first fireman's hose - a seriously powerful jet of water that cooled me down brilliantly. It was also starting to cloud over - perfect! Mentally, I told myself - just get to mile 16 - mile 16 I love because there are just 10 miles to go. I managed the downhill mile 16 in 7:45 a real confidence boost. Aware that I need to keep my spirits high, I decided to take on one of John's strategies and pause briefly to take on a full cup of drink (rather than trying to drink while running and end up spilling it all over!). I cunningly chose to pause between the Gator aid and water station. Have a full cup of each, in about 5 seconds flat, before carrying on. This did effect my average pace for the mile, but I think the benefits outweighed the few seconds lost.
Mentally now, I was just pushing on to mile 18 where I would take on my 3rd and final gel. I had my second ice pop (just as good as the first), went through yet more hoses and tried to take on board as much of the incredible atmosphere as possible (17 = 8:16, 18=8:04).
Now I was pushing on to mile 19 and the Johnny, Kelley statue. This is where my thoughts turned to John and I played a mental slideshow of our training together. I was desperate to make him proud (although I know he'd be proud of me if I crawled over the line in 6 hours!) and show him what I could achieve in these tough conditions. All I wanted was to finish, see his smiling face and run into his arms. With this mental picture in my head I pushed on. By this point, loads of people were slowing down or walking. I tried to engage a little competitive spirit (although I find that hard what I'm so far back in race) and take over as many people as possible.
Mile 19 arrived. 'Brilliant' I thought. I did this section of the course with John last week. I've got this! I knew heartbreak hill was coming but I was ready. Felling 100% positive that I could make it and get a PB, I powered on, trying to ignore the massive hills (19 = 7:44, 20 = 8:07). After some of the other hills I'd done today, heartbreak hill felt like a walk in the park. The most difficult mile of the course done in 8:29. I knew nothing could stop me now!
I carried on drinking Gator aid and water regularly and throwing lots of water over me. I knew I had only a few miles left and, although these miles were still very much undulating, there was more downhill than up. I new that our expert supporter Nat was planning to watch us from around mile 22 so I started trying to keep an eye out for her. Although I was worried that because I would be very far behind the boys and behind my target, she might have thought she'd missed me and gone to the finish. Just at this point I see someone waving manically and yelling my name! I was overjoyed to see her and waved excitedly back. Seeing her helped me to pick up my pace even more to 7:37! My fastest mile since mile 7!
Knowing that I just had 4 miles left and that I was on for a PB even if I ran the last 4 miles at 9mm pace, I decided to get the most out of the Boston experience. I spent the time high-fiveing some more kids, reading the hilarious signs and generally soaking up the atmosphere (mile 23 = 8:00, 24 = 7:53, 25= 7:54).
With only 1 mile left I was feeling on top of the world. Everything hurt but I put that to the back of my mind and just enjoyed running along Bolyston Street. After spending a week here, almost every place I passed held a wonderful memory: The expo centre where we collected our race numbers; the bars we'd stopped in for cocktails; the Prudential tower with its amazing views and finally, the Atlantic Fish Co. where John and I had that wonderful anniversary meal. Thinking of these memories and thinking of seeing him and the others again very soon, made me quite emotional. We'd all been on a huge journey together and I couldn't wait to hear about how the rest of our crew go on.
After covering the last mile 7:52, I crossed the finish line. Arms raised, a huge smile filled my face. Yes! I'd done it. In really difficult conditions, after battling some serious racing demons, I'd pushed through and managed to earn a PB of
3:21:12! (I found out later that I finished at 719th lady - out of around 15,000!). Did I care that I wasn't closer to my A goal - not one bit. I was overjoyed to have got a PB and shed a tear or two when the medal was placed over my head.
It was about another mile or 5 to get through the finishing area and to where I'd dropped my bag many hours earlier. After being congratulated by a vast number of very enthusiastic volunteers, I reached my bag and headed towards our chosen meeting place - K (for Kelly and Kropacsy). Marathon brain had well and truly taken hold and I was unable to work out alphabetical order - when told that letters A-G were one way and H-P were another etc. Luckily, more exceptionally enthusiastic volunteers were more than happy to help point me in the right direction.
I found K and also found Marcus. While delighted, of course, to see him, I was surprised and a little sad not to see John. He's probably just getting changed, I told myself. Marcus and I congratulated each other and shared stories of our 'dark places' it turns out I wasn't the only one struggling today. While sorry that Marcus' race didn't go to plan, I also felt rather pleased with myself that I was only about 30 seconds off his place (damn those 30 seconds!).
After being very hot all day, Mother Nature chose now to bring over cloud cover and seriously strong wind. I was starting to feel very cold in my very wet clothes. I needed to get changed into my dry clothes...this posed a challenge as I didn't want to go back to the changing tent for fear of missing John but the road was full of spectators and runners reuniting. Marcus came to my rescue and (in a similar fashion to trying to get changed behind a towel on a beach) held the silver blanket around me so I could preserve (a little bit) of modesty! I imagine that this was a rather hilarious sight to watch and we both chuckled about what Nat and John would think if they happened to appear at this precise moment!
Nat arrived next bringing with her details about the rest of our crew on her tracking app. She said that Dave had finished and so would be along soon. However she also informed us that John hadn't finished and asked if I'd checked my social media...I opened my phone to find hundreds of messages that contained a mix of congratulations and concerns over John's whereabouts. Panic started to set in. The longer I waited, the more my mind filled itself with all the different things that could have gone wrong. We had no way of contacting him. Luckily, Dave had first hand experience of this matter. He'd once pulled out of the London Marathon and informed us that it can be quite a difficult process to get to the finish and get baggage etc. Seeing the concern on our faces, he went off to investigate. Success! Dave had managed to find out that John had been picked up by a medical bus and was on his way to a aid tent A. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders as Dave and I hurried to aid tent A. When we arrived we were greeted by a very helpful lady who took our details and went in search of John.
While I was waiting anxiously, my phone rang; it was Marcus telling me that John was at meeting point K. Dave said he'd wait to tell the lady to stop searching and I made a beeline for K - the quickest way possible. Unfortunately, the very beefy security guards had made the whole area a one-way system and wouldn't let me back in. An argument began between me and a particularly stern guard which ended in me welling up and him pointing me in the quickest direction. Eventually, after what had been quite an emotional roller coaster, I saw him. Not able to control my emotions any longer, the floodgates opened as I finally found myself where I'd wanted to be for the last few hours - in John's arms. A serious bout of heat-stroke had ended his marathon for today at mile 23. Not the marathon he deserved after such a lot of training and commitment but I can't wait to starting training alongside him for our next one (which I demand to be flat and cold!).
The crew were reunited and we slowly dragged out exhausted bodies to the station sharing our marathon tales on the way!
So, we have reached the end of our marathon journey. It's not been easy but I've really enjoyed the process. I loved training and following a plan, I've really liked blogging for the first time and this past week has been just amazing and I managed to enjoy a good 2/3s of the race!
Thank you to everyone who has been reading my blog and following my journey. I have been overwhelmed by the incredibly kind and thoughtful comments and words of advice.
What next?
Well, I am going to spend some time recovering and focusing on shorter distances. Then the plan is to train through the summer for the Abingdon marathon (flat) in the Autumn (cold!) to see if I can break that magical sub 3 hour barrier! I will most definitely be blogging again so (unless of course you've had enough of hearing me blabber on about running every week) keep an eye out for that!
Thank you and goodnight.
