It’s been over two three weeks and I still haven’t posted up my proper race report of the Boston Marathon. I’m such a slacker. Quite honestly I have written more blog posts in the last two weeks than in the last 4 months so being 2 weeks late with a race report, when there was so much more to write about is perfectly acceptable in my opinion. In the last installment I wrote about race day morning and everything that happened until the gun went off at 10:00AM. So I’m going to pick it up right there and write about the actual race, the next 3+ hours of my life that were the true story of the weekend.
The gun went off promptly at 10:00AM but it was a rather underwhelming moment as I was still at a complete stand still and it wasn’t for another minute until we finally started into a slow jog and another 36 seconds until we actually crossed the start line. Once we crossed the starting line people started moving along and the first mile, with a steep 130 ft drop felt downright slow but I could not have gone any faster even if I wanted to. The whole place was elbow to elbow and I was just glad no one trampled me and I didn’t trample anyone either. I have never experienced running with the crowd, certainly not to this level.
Right after the start you saw a bunch of guys stopping in the woods and taking care of business. I’m pretty sure that the trees grow as big as they grow because they get plenty of fluids on Patriot’s Day every year. I don’t know how those guys schedule their potty breaks or water intake but I never had to stop during a marathon for any kind of break before because nature called. I usually stop drinking two hours before the race start and I don’t start up drinking again until 30 minutes before the gun goes. This way everything that I drank two hours prior the race has plenty of time to come out before the start and everything I drink 30 minutes before the race will never make it to my kidneys as I’d be sweating my ass off by the time it processes through my stomach.
The first mile was 7:06 which was way off my target pace. So what was my target pace? Well, with my Achilles issues that I had been fighting since January my training didn’t go exactly as planned and I ran a total of 47 miles between the Cowtown Marathon, a 3:20 pacing job and training run, and Boston. I did a lot of swimming and biking to keep up my cardio fitness but I seriously lacked in running. The longest run I did in the last 6 weeks prior Boston was 4 miles instead of the scheduled 2 20 mile long runs that I was supposed to have. So you would think that I’d throttle back on my expectations and run Boston as a fun run and just run it for the experience and enjoy it. Well, I’m one of those type -A personality guys who lose all self control when they have a bib on their shirt and go balls to the wall all out. My Physical Therapist, whom I visited 11 times in the last 7 weeks said I should probably not even run Boston but knowing that I wouldn’t listen to that advice at least run it easy and enjoy it. Well I didn’t listen. I printed up a pace band well in advance and I knew that I was going to shoot for the moon in Boston and try to break 3 hours. Boston is generally a tough course and people tend to run about 2 minutes slower than they would on a flat fast course but I knew I had to go for it. So I stapled the pace band, with weighed mile spits depending on elevation changes of the course, on my wrist and went for the sub-3 hour marathon.
After the first mile I was 16 seconds behind but I knew that I could make that up later and I wasn’t too worried about the pace, I enjoyed the run and tried to keep it easy and pay attention to the Achilles and try to soak in the experience. After the wooded toilet break area the roads started getting lined with people and the cheering was on! I run in a shirt with my name printed on the front and I have never heard my name getting called as much in 3 hours as I did in Boston. It was just unbeliveable how strong the crowd support was from the get go and it didn’t get any less as the run progressed. I failed to realize that there was no water stop at mile 1 and I was kind of anticipating one and it didn’t dawn on me that there wouldn’t be one until we got to mile 2.
Mile 2 was 6:37 which was 10 seconds faster than planned so I was already back to only being down by 6 seconds. Things were looking good and feeling good. I was giving high fives to the little kids lining the road, waving and smiling and feeling pretty good. Little did I know that things would be different in about 17 miles.
Mile 3 was 6:46, I was 4 seconds off the pace again and things were still pretty congested. I thought it’s still better to run with the crowd and conserve energy than trying to dodge people and getting worn out. I was 10 seconds off my target time and still felt pretty decent. What really started to amaze me was the depth of the field. Running downhill you could see hundreds of yards ahead of you and you could see a sea of people running in front of you. Thousands of runners running at or faster than my pace. It was a very humbling experience to see this many fast runners around me and feeling like an “also ran”. This was uncharted territory for me, with the small races I’ve been running I would usually be by myself and pretty close to the front by now. Boston was different.
Mile 4 came in at 6:38 which was pretty much right on the money for my target pace. I felt good about it and I finally thought that things were moving along. The race was still super crowded, the water stations were busy as hell but the pace was right on. The water stations were very impressive and very organized and quite amazing, just like the rest of the BAA organization. Every mile, shortly after the mile marker you would have a table with volunteers on the right side of the road with Gatorade first and water second. Then about 50 yards down the road there would be another table with volunteers on the left side. The Gatorade would be in cups with Gatorade logo, the water was in cups with the water sponsor’s logo. It took me until mile 15 to make that realization as all the cups were green though. But I never missed a cup, I got water where I wanted to and the cups were filled with plenty of water not just an oz in the bottom. The volunteer support was just truly amazing.
I also took my first gel at mile 4. My nutrition plan for the race was very simple and tried. One gel pack every 4 miles up to mile 20 with water at every water station up to mile 24. This setup worked for me before at Tyler, TX and at Dallas White Rock although I was ready to change plans if I felt the need just like I did in Tyler when I switched to Gatorade at mile 17 and stopped taking gels. With the water stops being so accurately placed this plan worked amazingly well.
Mile 5 was 6:56 which was 3 seconds slower than anticipated. I was 15 seconds behind in pace for a sub-3 and I was contemplating that maybe I should forget about a sub-3 and just try to run a 3:01 which is the pace I was on at this time. The left Achilles felt a bit of tension by now and I felt that the extra 3 seconds per mile would probably help me out. I also knew that my pace band was set up to allow for a slight fade so I felt that I might still snag a sub-3 if I didn’t fade at all.
Mile 6 came in at 6:49, another 4 seconds off pace. At this point I mentally gave up the sub-3 goal completely and started concentrating on hitting a 3:01 or 3:02. I figured if I’m 4 seconds behind on every split I’ll be OK and it will still be a sub 7 minute average pace and a huge PR by over 2 minutes. 2 minutes might not sound like a lot, especially on a marathon but I can assure you, non runners, that it is! It is a huge difference!
Mile 7 was 6:51, another 5 seconds were added to my running tally of being off pace. The road finally opened up a bit and we already dropped 300 ft of net elevation in the past 7 miles and my quads were starting to feel it. The next 8 miles would actually be equal amounts of uphill and downhill running, to my legs they felt like a constant rollers not unlike Tyler, TX.
Mile 8 was 6:55, a plus 3 second split. This is where my heart rate finally started creeping up and it went up to 82% of Heart Rate Reserve. I had ran all my previous marathons with an 81% HRR average and I bonked hard in Fort Worth where I was running 82% of HRR for the first half of the race. I was getting a bit concerned but I tried to stick with the pace.
Mile 9 was 6:54, I was losing 6 seconds on this split. I was trying to keep equal effort over the rollers vs. trying to keep equal pace. When I look at my heart rate chart it looks relatively flat throughout the rollers while my pace closely follows the elevation profile of the course. I knew that this was the right strategy so I tried to stick with it.
Mile 10 was 6:59, 7 seconds off sub-3 pace. Heart rate stabilized at 82% of HRR and I was still running strong. I felt my right heel hurting a bit, like a chronic insertion point Achilles tendinitis which was totally different from the left Achilles’ acute pain that was further up. The pain was pretty strong but by mile 12 it subdued and I could keep running with it.
Mile 11 was 7:01, I was 9 seconds off sub-3 pace by now. This was my first mile split slower than 7 minutes. I knew that a sub-3 was completely gone but I was still hopeful that a 3:03 would still be possible. As long as I would stick with the pace I was running I could snag that sub 7 minute pace average.
Mile 12 was 6:42 which was right on the money for the sub-3 pace for this mile. I really picked it up on this mile, I figured my heart rate was 82% HRR and maybe it was time to push it a bit more and try to see if I can hang on for dear life. Knowing that the sub-3 was out of the question I thought if I was going to blow up at least blow up in a big way. I ran through the Wellesley College scream tunnel which was just as loud as they said it would be. This part of the course had brand new fresh asphalt and it felt good under my legs, the girls were screaming their heads off and you could hear them from half a mile away. The right side of the course was lined with girls screaming and waiting to be kissed by runners while the left was lined with photographers ready to preserve the moment forever. I did not really have time to smooch the Wellesley girls plus I was expecting to kiss my wife at mile 21 later on the course instead.
The Wellesley girls gave me such a boost and there was a small uphill section right after the scream tunnel where I decided to push up hard and forget about even effort. I turned to a guy on my right and asked him if this was Hearbreak Hill. He said “I don’t think so!”. Neither did I but he just wasn’t quite in the mood for smalltalk at this point. This was the first time in the entire race where I actually said anything to anyone. There I was running with thousands around me yet running all by myself. Marathon running is an experiment of one.
Mile 13 came in at 6:55 which was only 3 seconds slower than the sub-3 target pace. I felt that a 3:03 was genuinely possible. I pushed harder and my heart rate showed it. I crossed the half mat at 1:30:03 which would lead the untrained eye to believe that a 3:00:06 would be possible but Boston is a sinister course with four very rough hills coming in the second half.
Mile 14 was 6:48 which was actually 2 seconds faster than the sub-3 pace needed. But my heart rate raced to 86% of HRR which is well into lactate threshold territory for me. I was an hour and 36 minutes into the race and I knew I had another hour and 16 or so minutes to go so I kind of realized that maybe I should throttle back and not run this heart rate this early and hold my horses. The fear of bonking went out the window, I was going full steam at this point.
Mile 15 was 7:03. I really throttled it back, my heart rate went back to 84% HRR which was a less unreasonable heart rate than 86% HRR. However, my time was 9 seconds slower than the pace band.
Mile 16 was 6:48 instead of the prescribed 6:36. The wheels were falling off and I started to regret deeply the early push at mile 12 and second surge at mile 14. I had serious doubts whether it was a bright idea to push that early. I was getting so out of it that I forgot to take my gel at mile 16 so I drank Gatorade instead and took my gel at mile 17.
Mile 17 is where you start hitting the hills and hitting them hard. And for mile 17 I was not off 6,7 or even 10 seconds from the sub-3 pace I was off by 20 seconds. The hills were killing me and killing my time. I ran 7:28 instead of the 7:08 and this was only hill 1 of the 4 that were coming.
Mile 18 had the second hill, a shorter but steeper hill than the first one right after the first 90 degree turn in the course. You turn and BAM! It just hits you in the face. My pace was slowing down substantially and I hit a 7:21 average on it which was 14 seconds slow.
Mile 19 was supposed to be a bit of recovery before the final push for the last two hills and I ran 7:08 instead of 6:45. I just didn’t have the energy to let myself loose on the downhill part and really push for it, my quads were toast, my hams started to fatigue and I knew that I had 2 more hills and 7 more miles to go.
Mile 20 had a pretty steep hill in it and I quite honestly don’t remember much of it or how I managed to climb it but I started contemplating walking at this point. The only thing that held me back from walking was the fear of not being able to start up again
Mile 21, the oh-so-famous Hearbreak Hill. I ran the Miracle Match Marathon which has three very steep hills past 20 miles, plenty of rolling hills in the second half of the marathon. I thought I was prepared for Hearbreak Hill and how it would have nothing to teach me. I was wrong. Heartbreak Hill isn’t called Hearbreak Hill for nothing. By this point I’ve seen plenty of walkers amongst the runners, these are sub-3 hour capable runners at this point I’m running with, mind you. I was very close to stopping myself and just walk it in. My entire body craved the stopping. I ws ready to check out. And then out of nowhere a familiar face appeared and helped me run.
A fellow Texan who I met at the Cowtown Marathon Expo and bumped into at the Boston starting coral patted me on the back and said “Hang in there, you got this!”. He was shooting for a sub-3 himself the last time I talked with him which was about two and a half hour earlier at the starting line. I said “No, I don’t have it!” to which he replied “Yes you do!”. So I decided to just suck it up and run up Hearbreak Hill with him and try to hang on for dear life. My cadence was hitting 99 going up the hill, my stride length was gone so I had to short step it and step it fast to keep up with him. My heart rate ran all the way to 89% HRR which is above my lactate threshold training zone level but I climbed up Heartbreak Hill and I did not stop. As we passed the crest of the hill I looked at my watch and I said “Well, sub-3 is out of the question” to which he replied “No it isn’t!” to which I said “Yes, it is!”. These were the last words I spoke to anyone during the race and I didn’t catch him until we were in the finishing chute. He finished 30 seconds ahead of me.
Mile 21 was 7:41 instead of 7:19, 22 seconds off pace.
After Hearbreak Hill I knew that we were getting close to where my wife was supposed to be which was at the end of one of the green tram lines. I kept looking on both sides of the street which were still filled with a never ending sea of spectators. Trying to spot my wife was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. And I’m positive that the experience felt the same way from her perspective as well. I was trying to see my daughter’s stroller with no luck. I eased up on my running and I was running slower than I should have and could have on purpose with hopes of spotting my family. By the time the mile marker came up I knew that I missed them. This part of the course runs by a cemetery one one side, the tram tracks with a fence on the other side so the amount of cheering and the number of spectators dwindles. It’s the only quiet part of the course where you can have a bit of time all by yourself without hearing your name chanted by drunk frat boys repeatedly until you flick a wave in their direction.
Mile 22 was 7:18, I was really getting off pace, I gave up 33 seconds on this single mile. I can blame it partially on slowing down for trying to find my family but in all honestly I’m glad I didn’t because had I seen them I probably would have stopped and that would have cost me far more than 35 seconds.
At mile 23, I really tried to pick up the pace and as we turned onto Beacon Street the cheering and the mass of spectators was back on again. I truly felt like a champion and I just wish I could have sucked in a bit more of it instead of feeling totally wasted. Mile 23 was 7:20, +31 seconds.
Mile 24 was uneventfully painful at 7:14, +16 seconds. I could see the Citgo sign in the distance but it felt like an eternity to get there. The overpass at the Massachusetts turnpike felt like another Heartbreak hill and I used female rabbit to pull me up. She was kicking my ass at this point but I tried to hang with her going over the bridge and hanging on for dear life. I was also trying to do math in my head whether I could still sneak under 3:05. The 3:03 plan was out the window when I ran past Heartbreak Hill, the new goal was to just get under 3:05 so I can beat my Boston Qualifying time by 10 minutes and hopefully guarantee myself a registration slot for next year so I could come back and do this all over again. Unlike in Tyler where as soon as I finished and I knew I qualified for Boston but felt that it did not matter because I would never ever run another marathon in my life again this time I Was already shooting for a target time so I could come back and run Boston again.
I ran 7:24 on Mile 25 and I only had 8 minutes and 38 seconds left to cover the last 1.2 miles. I thought as long as I run 8 minute pace I would have it. But as you can tell I wasn’t very good with math with 25 miles in my legs and I actually needed to run 7:11/mile pace to make it under 3:05. When I turned onto Boylston street I looked at my watch and I saw it say 3:02:35. I had 2:25 left to cover a third of a mile straight down to the finish. I almost cried. That finish line might as well could have been a mile away. I felt that there was simply no way I was going to cover that distance in that amount of time. But I also figured that even if can’t get under 3:05 at least I can try to beat my PR of 3:05:28. So I picked it up for the final sprint and I really kicked it in high gear. I was going as fast as I could as strong as I could, looked at the clock as it kept going higher and higher and finally I raised my arms, I was in the finishing chute, I stopped my watch and it read 3:04:49.9. My official finishing time was 3:04:50. I got under 3:05 and I got a new marathon PR!
I was on cloud nine and I still haven’t come down from it. It’s been two three weeks now but I’m still getting goose bumps every time I think about Boston. I was a Boston marathon finisher and re-qualifier. I did it! Despite the injuries and setbacks I still managed to have a really good run in Boston and an amazing experience.
