Boston Marathon Race Report

When I was a little girl, my grandmother used to dress me up on Patriot's Day in my marathon outfit and I'd run a course in their backyard south of Boston. As I grew older, the idea of running Boston always percolated, but it wasn't until I started running marathons that I started seriously courting the idea. In her demented state, my grandmother thought every marathon I did was the Boston marathon, so it was nice this past year to be able to say "Yes, Nana, this year I will run Boston."  It is both heartbreaking and fitting that she died on the Thursday before Boston.

Cruising down Boylston

I arrived in Boston exhausted and sad. Thankfully, I was staying with two dear friends who boosted me up. I slept for 12 hours on Saturday night and even slept on Sunday night for about 7 hours. I drank plenty of water and powerade, ate well and stayed off my legs. On Monday morning, I met up with a teammate who convinced me that we didn't need to catch the bus until 6:45. While I'm not sure who was more nervous, having Matt around made for a very smooth race morning. By the time I got into the starting corral, I had 5 minutes to go and was feeling good.

My splits aren't particularly exciting. I went out slowly as planned and stayed steady through the whole race. My one mistake was thinking that I would have any sort of hammer to drop. I felt great throughout the race, but couldn't have picked it up anywhere past 20 without risking a blowup.

Start to 6: Went out slowwwwwwwly. Got in one collision at a water stop and subsequently teamed up with some other people to share cups instead of having to veer off to the left or right.

Mile 1: 7:38

Mile 2: 7:19

Mile 3: 7:20

Mile 4: 7:07

Mile 5: 7:17

Mile 6: 7:08

6 to 16: Spent most of these miles trying to stay patient and telling myself "only ten more miles until you see Mom and Suzy," "only 30 minutes until you see Mom and Suzy."  I will say that I was more than overwhelmed by the Wellesley girls and rolled far left away from their waving arms. I was overjoyed to see my mom and sister at Newton-Wellesley hospital and impressed that they got the whole group around them to also cheer. It was a huge mental boost that carried me into the hills.

Mile 7: 7:01

Mile 8: 7:13

Mile 9: 7:09

Mile 10: 7:12

Mile 11: 7:10

Mile 12: 7:09

Mile 13: 7:09

Mile 14: 7:03

Mile 15: 7:08

Mile 16: 7:01

17 to 21: The Hills!!  I decided early on to approach the hills as an opportunity to run strong, not something to be feared. I am a strong hill runner and actually prefer inclines to flats. I focused on form, using my arms to drive me up the hills. I am happy to report that I think Heartbreak just gets a bad rap...

Mile 17: 7:17

Mile 18: 7:21

Mile 19: 7:24

Mile 20: 7:23

Mile 21: 7:27

21 to finish: Once we were done with Heartbreak (bizarrely announced by a huge inflatable sign), I started to grind towards home. It was about here that I realized a 3:08 wasn't in the cards. I decided instead to try to run smooth and strong to the end. I saw my dad and aunt in Coolidge Corner and my mom and sister again at 25. I struggled with the silence under the Mass Ave bridge, where I had my first opportunity all day to think about the hallowed ground upon which I was running, to remember my Nana and Coop and how proud they would be to watch me finish. Thankfully, that silence doesn't last long. My girlfriends were at the turn onto Hereford and from there, it was time to head home. 

Mile 22: 7:12

Mile 23: 7:19

Mile 24: 7:18

Mile 25: 7:18

Mile 26: 7:12

.2 (slash .4, ooops, not perfect tangents): 2:47 (6:47 pace)

Home Sweet Home (and sore)

I promise a full race report by the end of the week, but I'm back in Vermont after a Boston Marathon-Funeral double header, so I'm looking forward to a good night's sleep in my own bed. It will be hard to go back to work tomorrow after more than a week off, but I'm excited to get back into a regular schedule.

Boston was a great experience. While the race wasn't quite as fast as I'd wanted (dreamed?), I ran a very smart, evenly paced race. My second half was only 30 seconds slower than my first, a feat on a course featuring a much harder second half. I was actually smiling throughout the race and save for horrible cramps after the finish, felt pretty good.

I paddled around the pool and hot tub last night and did a light bike workout this morning. That said, I'm still very sore. Stairs, ramps and chairs are not my friends. I'm looking forward to getting back to some light running by the end of the week, but am otherwise going to take the week to recover and reflect.

Thank You

The marathon is an unforgiving mistress. It takes everything you'll give, and like most mistresses, it takes something from those around you too. I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge the group of people who got me to the starting line this morning. (And yes, I wrote this last week, I'm not that motivated or clear-headed on marathon day. That said, if I left you out, sorry. I really tried...)

Thank you to...
-The GMAA Sunday running group, for getting me out of bed all winter long
-Jason, Matt and the rest of the Dee PT team for putting me back together again, repeatedly
-My co-workers, for not teasing me for eating all the time, for forgiving Monday morning exhaustion and for trying to understand why someone would run 26 miles in a row
-My Phour, I won't even try to quantify
-Dr. Jimmy Slauterbeck, Dr. Ryan Duffy and the OSC at Fletcher Allen for pretty scars and a lot less pressure
-The Dailies crew, for keeping me honest, motivated and in awe 365 days a year
-Meredith and Lindsay, because there's a distinct chance that at some point today, my only motivation will be the after-party.

It's been said that the halfway point in a marathon is at mile 20. Miles 20 through 26 supercede training and preparation and most of the time, require pure guts. In my first marathon, I dedicated miles 20 through 26 to people in my life, wrote their names on my pace band and thought of them through some incredibly challenging miles. It worked, and I'm doing it again for Boston for people without whom this would not be happening.

Mile 20: Will Moss. For reminding me who I am and for getting me into this in the first place.
Mile 21: Mom, Dad, Suzanne and Stacey. When the going gets tough, I always have you and there is no amount of thanks I can give for that.
Mile 22: Will Manning. For being the place to vent with someone understands the stakes.You'll be back soon.
Mile 23: Matty. For biking with me in the pitch black, for never questioning why Sunday had to be dedicated to 3 hours of running, followed by ice baths and naps, for your continued effort at understanding why someone would choose to run.
Mile 24: Grampa Coop and Nana. I've been dressing up for Marathon Monday since I was a little girl. I wish you were here to see me finally run Boston, but something tells me you'll both be around. I'll do you proud.
Mile 25: Erin. Good running partners are hard to find. Great running partners are even harder to find. I hope you have a great race today. We deserve this.
.2: For me, because a year ago, I wasn't sure I'd be able to run here.

See you in 3 and change...

~S

Pertinent Information

Want to track me at Boston?  Bib 6803, Wave 1, Corral 7.

The plan, as detailed ad nauseum in an earlier post, is to go out patiently to 16, then start grinding through the hills.

Patience and Grit (aka the Plan)

I debated about sharing my running notebook where all of these plans are sketched down, starred, circled and highlighted. As my calendar post perhaps belied, I am someone who requires a plan to function. However, since this week is anything but normal and I still don't know my travel plans to Boston, I'm going to keep my journal to myself. I will, however, share my plan.

After reviewing my training log (4 times), the Boston course (at least 10 times) and using some of the various calculators available, I think I'm going to aim for a 3:08, plus or minus a couple of minutes. Although this is a 7:10 pace, this certainly isn't an even pace course. Go out too hard, and you'll understand first hand what a meat grinder feels like. Go out too easy, well, I'm not sure that's really a possibility.

My personal plan, in a nutshell, is to go out easy through 16, then grind it in. I'm a strong hill runner and my first marathon was very similar in profile to Boston (http://cityofoaksmarathon.com/course_info/), although without the constant hammering downhill of the first 6 of Boston. I remember this race much more fondly than the pancake flat Las Vegas, where I honestly thought another step at mile 21 was an impossibility.

I assume that my first mile will be slow due to a crowded start. Should this not happen, I am still prepared and planning to run no faster than a 7:20 mile for Miles 1 and 2. Through 6, I am going to be chanting patience in my head (and possibly writing it on my arm). This excludes mile 3, where a steep downhill may naturally pull me a little under. Then the plan is to cruise through to 16, somewhere around 7:05, plus or minus a second. 16 is where I swap mantras for grit. Climbing hills takes more time per mile, and I'm not expecting a negative split on this course, so I think a 7:19 is reasonable through the Hills. From mile 21 in, I want to focus on running strong, with the best form I can manage. If the going gets tough, I'm doing like Kara Goucher and counting to 100 over and over again.

16 miles is a manageable bite for me at this point. It's probably one of my favorite long run distances; long enough to feel like a workout, not long enough to hurt. If I can get through 16 with patience and legs that feel good, then I'm ready to fight like hell for the next 10.

Splits? (Again, pretty flexible, at least on the slower side. I am going to work very hard not to turn in anything under 7 minutes)
Through the half no faster than 1:34:30
16 around 1:54
20 around 2:30.

Getting Warmer

On Monday, the high was expected to be 52. This is the forecast this morning:

50 I can handle. 60 is getting pretty warm, especially if it's sunny. At least the showers will be out of the way. Hopefully all the rain today won't flood the falls in Newton.

Weather is one of the things over which we have zero control in a marathon. We can only react and hope that our reaction makes us as comfortable as possible. I am starting the packing process and have no less than 2 duffels of running related gear (and one small duffel for other clothes). I have everything for a race at 20 degrees with wind to a race at 70 in the rain, plus every combination in between. I still have to get to the Dollar Store to pick up some throwaways, should I need them after I drop my bag.

So despite us having no control over the weather, everyone please cross your fingers that the temperature doesn't get much warmer...

It's Alllllllllllive

I'm mad. Taper mad, that is. Everything hurts, from my left calf to my right ankle and right hip. Did I mention the toe that feels like it's broken or the black toenail. My quads feel tight, my shoulder is sore and I'm pretty sure I've gained ten pounds in the last week and my shorts won't fit. I'm glaring at people out running, obsessing over the course and my mantra, memorizing paces that I'll write on my arm and trying to avoid germs, despite working in a hospital.

You can't make a training cycle during taper, but you can certainly wreck one. It's difficult to resist the urge to do one more long run, one more hard workout. It's hard to remember to stay hydrated, eat well and sleep well when the cornerstone of your routine is missing. The angel on my right shoulder soothes: "Trust the taper, let your body heal and prepare," while the devil on my left snarks: "Do one more medium run, go try race pace, stop eating." And there are still 6 days to go.

Hold on to your hats.

S

One Week to Go

First panicky weather check officially completed: low of 40, high of 55 and sunny.

Next week at this time, I'll be milling around Athlete's Village, anxiously awaiting my 10 am start.

The Final Approach

Ladies and Gentleman, as we prepare for our final approach into Boston's Logan Airport, please ensure that your tray tables and seat backs are in their upright and locked position. The flight attendants will be coming through the cabin to collect any unwanted items.

The descent into Logan is one of the most harrowing on the East Coast. During the preliminary descent, you drop to an altitude at which you can only see ocean. When you begin the final bank left, it appears as though you are going to land in the Atlantic. It's only at the last minute that you see the runway and exhale. My approach to Boston has been similar. For the past few weeks, I've been convinced that I'm going to land in the ocean, but I think I can see the runway now.

This training cycle has been turbulent, from a serious winter that has yet to relinquish its grasp to a schedule that even I have to admit is a little over-loaded. Much like the days after a harrowing flight, I am vowing not to repeat a training cycle like this.

My last 20 is done. I will do another 16 on Sunday, a couple more moderate distance runs and one or two faster paced workouts. My job now is to rest, recover and prepare for April 18th. I hate taper. I am a miserable person when I'm not running, so to those who see me regularly, please accept my advance apologies. (WM, it's my two weeks to be snarky.)

Anyone have an air-sickness bag?

~S

The Week Ahead

Let Monster Month begin!  I bought extra snacks at the grocery store, am scheduling in more sleep and am ready to start Monster Month, albeit in abbreviated form.

Sunday: 20 miler today, easy pace
Monday: 6 miler, plus upper body
Tuesday: 8 mile tempo
Wednesday: Off. :)
Thursday: 10 miler, progressive.
Friday: 5 miles, legs
Saturday: 16 miles (so that I can enjoy Burlington's Mardi Gras.)

Have a great week all.

Thoughts on Boston

My first reaction to the changes to registration for Boston Marathon 2012 and beyond was relief. I expect (hope?) to qualify for many years to come, and don’t want to relive the experience I had this fall.  Like many other runners, I logged on at 9 am, only to find that the pages didn’t seem to be loading. I almost decided to just try again later that week, but tried again at noon, happy to be registered. That happiness was compounded just after 5, when I heard that Boston was full. Many of my friends were not as lucky, and found themselves shut out, even with excellent qualifying times. 

I am empathetic, though, to the plight of those who have been steadily working towards a qualifying time, only to have it drop by 5 minutes. I am even more empathetic to those who have qualified, but who will have to wait for days while faster runners get registration priority. 

Boston is many things to many people. For example, my boyfriend in graduate school begrudgingly ran a marathon so that we could run Boston together (in exchange for me playing ultimate Frisbee; I’m not sure what we were thinking.) From Brookline, Boston held a special place in Will’s heart. He had an older Boston jacket, yet it hung in his closet because he hadn’t run the race yet. The Brookline Hills?  His high school training grounds. We ran up Heartbreak, just so I could see the hill likely to haunt my future. Will trained his ass off, and ran Myrtle Beach with tendonitis in his Achilles and knee, literally held together by tape, pre-wrap and Flexor patches. He ran a 3:10 and change, good enough to get him into Boston. I still remember screaming madly at 26, when I realized how close to the line we were. I later screwed us up by insisting that we had plenty of time to register. The race closed in mid-November and we were shut out.  I keep trying to convince Will to qualify again so we can run Boston together, but now not only does he have to run a 3:05, he probably has to run a 2:50 to be guaranteed a spot. Similarly, two of my best friends have been steadily working towards 3:40 with the hope that the three of us can run it together one year. These new standards put a lot more pressure on KC and Emmy, especially with the priority registration.

My second reaction was that the organizers chose the best possible solution. Nothing was going to make everyone happy, so they had to find a way to relieve the pressure, while staying true to the tradition of Boston. As anyone familiar with Boston knows, it has become less and less of a challenge to get in over the past few decades, which when coupled with the explosion in recreational marathon running, caused a major bottleneck.  Add in some hype about an early sell out and well, we are where we are. 

Is it a permanent solution? I’m not convinced. I think the goals of Boston need to be carefully considered. Boston is a totally different marathon from New York or Chicago, which also sell out annually.  Boston is a mecca. There are pictures of me from childhood (I’ll dig some up), dressed in my “marathon Monday” outfit. I’ve studied the Boston course unlike any other race, because I know that the downhills at the beginning can crush me going into Brookline. I get teary thinking about coming out of the scream tunnel. I can’t wait to have my own Boston shirt.

What do you think? Did the BAA do the right thing? Make it worse? If you were in charge, what would you have done?

53 Days to Boston

Shit. There are only 53 days before Boston. My math tells me this gives me 43 more days of training, plus a 10 day taper. This includes a mini-taper for the New Bedford Half on March 20th. The past few weeks have been crazy. I've thankfully fit in most of my long runs and been consistent on other workouts, but am missing my normal diet of midweek long runs that I feel are key to success.

So what to do with 43 days left? I'm hoping for a 20 this Sunday (last Sunday, it was so cold, I skipped our group run in favor of warmer afternoon temps). Since the weekend is my only real free time, I'm going to have to double up tough workouts, with my tempo runs on Saturdays from now until April. Given my schedule, my best hope is to aim for 6 more weeks at 50 to 60 quality miles a week. It's not the cycle I wanted for Boston, but the perfect cycle doesn't necessarily guarantee a perfect race. Here's hoping talent, a solid base and a smart race strategy get me through.

Besides a hope and a prayer, I do have some things on my side. I'm not injured (knock on wood) besides the regular winter/training aches. I've been running a lot of hills, including self-flagellation on Maple Street at least once a week. I've been consistent about speed work, which is always my weak point. I'm almost at race weight, so I don't have to waste energy thinking about diet. Most importantly, I don't feel like my life depends on my Boston performance. This has been a recovery year, and it is unrealistic to expect a banner performance. Would I like a PR? Absolutely. Will I be devastated if I don't get one? Nope. I'll enjoy the party, and enjoy my first Boston experience.


Run On.
S

Insider Info: Blog to Follow

Want to read a running blog by someone funnier than me, who is also getting ready for the Boston Marathon?  Check out Running with Liz at:

http://runningwithliz.blogspot.com/

She's funny, candid and always knows how many days we have until Boston. All handy things as we plod on through this winter.

This Week's Workload: 12 Weeks to Go

We're 12 weeks from Boston tomorrow, which means I have 10 weeks of work and 2 weeks of taper left before I toe the line in Hopkinton. It's time to start thinking about goals and honing in on some quality workouts to help me achieve them.  I have had a few good weeks of training recently, including a workout of 800s last Thursday that felt positively easy. I'm smart enough to know that everything can go right in training and crash on race day, but I'm hopeful that the next 10 weeks will result in my strongest marathon to date.

I have three quality workouts planned for this week, and a total of about 60 miles of running. I would like to do more, but I am focusing on tuning up speed over endurance this cycle and tired legs can't run fast.

*Long Run: Sub-zero temps combined with Raynaud's meant I had no choice but to head indoors so I did a 16 miler this morning. On the treadmill. It was as bad as you might imagine.
*Tempo: I normally do a tempo run on Saturday before my long run to simulate race day, but I had to get my car repaired, so instead, I'll do it tomorrow on tired legs.  8 miles, with 6 at 6:40 pace, approximately my 10K pace.
*Intervals: My least favorite, ever. I am always the one who falls for more reps of shorter intervals over longer intervals and this week is no exception. I cannot tell you the number of times I have begged for quarter repeats instead of 1200s and gone on to regret it. This week, I'm doing 20 by 200 and hoping for very consistent 40 second repeats and will be focusing on form, particularly arm swing and knee drive.

Have a great week of running all. Stay warm. Spring will come again.

S

Gearing Up

It's been a bizarre weather week.  Unseasonable temperatures and serious winds have made for interesting training scenarios.  Every time we face inclement weather and I yearn to stay in bed or run indoors, I remind myself that anything could happen weather-wise (or otherwise) in Boston, and I'd better be ready. Yesterday, I fought wind on a basic six miler.  Today, I had track work in some serious humidity.  I was overdressed heading out the door and was a sweaty mess by the time I reached the track.

Thankfully, the workout looming ahead distracted me from the hair plastered to my face. I haven't officially done speed since February and to describe myself as anxious would be a gross understatement.  I dutifully did my warm-up, followed by some stride drills, then set into an "easy" workout of 400s. In February, Lee and I did 20 400s on the indoor track.  I wouldn't say the workout was easy, but we survived and felt pretty tough. Today, I was aiming for 4 at a 1:40 pace, about the equivalent of my half marathon pace pre-surgery (PS). After this workout, I refuse to believe that I ever maintained that pace for 13 miles.

Being honest, the workout went fine.  I huffed and puffed and survived.  My legs felt fine, I didn't have a lot of stabbing pain around the incision and I went on to do a few more laps of less structured speed play. As much of a doubting Thomas as I can be, there was a teeny tiny part of myself that thought I might have an effortless workout and be able to say, "Aha, I really didn't lose that much conditioning!" But I did.  So now starts the hard work of rebuilding.

Patience, Grasshopper

It has been a really great couple weeks of running. My miles are building, my leg has behaved and I can picture myself toeing the line at Boston for more than just a qualifying 3:40.  Tomorrow, I will do my first speed workout post-surgery, with 4 miles at a 7:30 pace. It's funny to think that my pace will be slower than the pace at which I ran my last marathon.  My test will not be whether I can run that fast, but whether I can be patient enough to let a 7:30 be enough.

Patience has never been a virtue.  My mom recently retold the story of me going to sleep away camp a full year before I was technically eligible.  Somehow, I convinced the camp to let me attend, despite being 7 when I needed to be 8.  In fact, I came into the world impatiently, arriving a full two months before I was due. That's why it is a bit of a surprise to me (and to my loved ones, I'm sure), that I've been patient with my recovery. When I went into surgery, I expected to be running in 6 weeks, training hard by the end of the summer.  Instead, it's November. As I start to feel strong, I find myself pushing too hard in workouts and tacking on extra miles. My brain knows that this is the easiest way to end up on the injured reserve, but my competitive side wants to make up for all the lost time.

Patience in the context of a marathon is an interesting thing.  Those who are successful in the marathon must have at least some level of it, as the distance punishes the hare and rewards the tortoise. Perhaps the strongest warning we offer to novice marathoners is that "there are no shortcuts."  Why, then, is it so hard to remember this for myself?  When I run with friends or give advice to new runners,  I always caution against too much too soon, about taking easy runs easy.  It seems that with most advice, it's easy to dole it out, but not as easy to observe.

As I wind on down the road this weekend, I'll be working on waking up my fast twitch muscles again, but also on practicing patience.  It's a long road to Boston.

Absence makes the heart grow...

Fonder?  Nah, I've just been too busy to post.  Luckily, a lot of that busy comes from getting back into running.  I am fresh off my first 30 mile week, including 30 miles in two days last weekend.  Yes, folks, I'm almost like a real live runner again.  I successfully pulled off 15 on Saturday, followed by a half marathon on Sunday where I paced a dear friend through her very first half marathon. Granted, both of those runs were incredibly slow, but I'm grateful to have survived with no symptoms and to be running this week without any residual pain.

So how did I get here?  As those around me can attest, I have been fastidious about routine and willing to try almost any rumored way to speed healing, encourage the regeneration of nerves and reduce scar tissue.  This has translated into a number of new things:

First, I am actually taking my vitamins every day, which include a multivitamin, Vitamin D (I'm in the North, we are low on sunshine) and a Fish Oil.  All of this comes from my mom, who also doubles as my RD.  She reads a lot more of the nutritional research than I do, and while I can't provide support beyond the anecdotal, I'm reticent to change the routine because it isn't hurting me and I know, like many of us, I don't always eat as well as I should. 

Second, I warm up and cool down.  No longer can I run from my front door.  Now, I warm up on a foam roller, then walk for a few minutes, then transition to a run.  After my run, I stretch carefully and foam roll again.  This adds a good 20 minutes to every run, but I'd do 40 if it meant running comfortably and avoiding additional surgeries.

Third, I am consistently working on flexibility.  Much like taking my vitamins, I know I should, but that doesn't mean I want to.  If I have an extra hour in my day, I am just not someone who would opt for yoga.  I'd watch TV, go for a run, organize my bathroom, floss my teeth.  Anything but yoga.  I have to admit, though, that a regular practice has allowed me to be better aware of where my left foot is in space and for that, I'll om with the best of them.

It's hard to know whether these things are making a difference or if I'm just finally reaching the end of this road to recovery.  Since none of them are likely to have a negative effect, I'll keep doing them (probably until I run out of time or forget all the lessons I've learned). 

The next challenge is to not succumb to "too much, too soon."  With registration for the Boston Marathon fast approaching, I find myself eager to start following a stringent plan.  I know, however, that I still have a lot of base building to do and I fear that a strict plan will be discouraging.  For the remainder of 2010, I am going to keep working towards a normal base for me, which is somewhere between 50 and 60 miles per week.  This will come from a longer weekend runs and a handful of midweek runs.  In a month or so, I'll begin to add tempo work back in.  By January 2011, I should be ready to gear up for a true training cycle.

Stay tuned for a picture or two from the half marathon on Sunday.  The event itself was poorly executed, but we had a ton of fun and it gave me a whole different perspective on running, which I will share along with those pictures.