It’s been nearly 2 weeks since the Boston Marathon and I’ve been reflecting on my race almost daily. I’ve never really had a bad marathon, so the past two weeks have been especially challenging for me. I mainly wanted to write my thoughts down because I am ready to take what I learned from a mentally and physically difficult race and plan my next attack at my goals…a feeling I’m certain so many runners have dealt with before.
The Boston Marathon holds such a special place in my heart. I ran my first time there back in 2013, fortunately finishing well before the bombings took place (2:56, a 9 minute PR). I ran again in 2014 to have the experience that I and so many other runners felt was robbed from us in 2013 (2:55). This year, I ran for a different reason; I wanted to race my heart out and see what I could do as an Elite in the Boston Marathon -- where I wasn’t racing the clock and there was nothing on the table. I wanted to put it all out there and be a competitor.
I started the race with three goals (a must, as recommended by my coach, Rick Lovett):
A Goal – sub 2:43
B Goal – sub 2:45:01
C Goal – to place better than my ranking (45th place)
It was such an exciting experience for me, from attending the elite technical meeting the day before the race, to shyly standing in line for the port-o-potties in front Meb Keflezighi just before the race (I considered asking to take a selfie with him, but quickly came back to reality and remembered I should probably be getting into race mode). I was extremely star-struck the entire weekend.
We boarded the elite bus to Hopkinton around 6:30am and the buses departed downtown at 7am sharp- with a police escort the entire way. That was when the adrenaline really started to build up. I felt so important for that 45-minute ride. When we arrived near the start we had a little over 1.5 hours to relax and do our pre-race routine, which as I look back on it, never happened for me. I was concerned about a knot I had developed in my left inner quad the day prior, so a good chunk of that time was spent loosening up that knot. I might note here that I made the mistake of being a tourist the Saturday before the race, spending close to 7 hours on my feet…a mistake I will never make again.
As we got closer to the start of the race, it was time to put on my jersey and start getting ready. I took these minutes very slowly, which somehow resulted in me deciding not to do a warm-up. Before I knew it, they were calling the names of the fastest 20 runners to line up, and then we were next. We walked outside of the church and the start line was less than 100 feet away. We all lined up, walked to the line between crowds of people (for some reason I was thinking it would be more quiet and lonely because races usually start so early). This is when it really hit me. I started to get shaky and tears started to form. I was nervous, scared and excited all at the same time, and I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I felt like a rookie entering a pro’s race.
The officials gave us the option to do a couple of 50-foot strides and then put us behind the start line. There were news cameras in front of us and spectators all around. The race official announced that Kathrine Switzer (bib #261) would be pulling the trigger on the gun to start the race and I was so excited. The woman who helped pave the way for women everywhere to compete in Marathons was standing less than 20 feet from me. A woman that I was dying to meet all weekend but didn’t have a chance to find…my adrenaline was growing.
The gun went off and the race started…we were on our way to downtown Boston - 26.2 miles from where we were standing.
I originally had a race plan to work with other runners that had bib numbers close to mine (I might also add that I was bib F45 out of 49 elite women, meaning I was prepared to be close to last in the race), but I wanted to beat that number, so when the gun went off, ALL racing plans went to shit. I was on my own mission and I was going to compete.
Boston is a difficult race because in order to run it well, you have to really control your pace in the first half. The first 10 miles are downhill, the next 6 are flat, followed by 5 miles uphill (ending at the crest of heartbreak hill), and the last 5 miles are flat/downhill. If you mess up the first 10, there is no going back---and that is exactly what I did.
Miles 1-3 were amazing. I felt so smooth and strong, adrenaline was high and I was in a groove. I did get to a point where I told myself to SLOW DOWN, but it was impossible. There was too much adrenaline running through me, so my body just kept pushing, saying ‘you’re feeling just fine’. Again, miles 4-7 were awesome. One of the best moments I have from the race is running up a small hill into the town of Ashland, with crowds 10 people deep on both sides cheering for the elites. It was EPIC. As I drew closer to them the cheering got louder I began to develop goosebumps, and then I started shaking. This. Was. Unreal. As I ran through the center I was so full of excitement that I jumped and the crowd was with me…they screamed so loud and my heart was beating extremely hard…a little too hard. As I left the town I was breathless – ‘you cant let yourself do that!’ My watch buzzed. Shit. 6:03. I was all over the board, running splits that were way too fast for a marathon, especially for the heat that day, but it was so much fun, I couldn’t stop…I finally forced myself to back off after that last mile and that’s when it happened. My legs had stopped working and I had just experienced what I now believe to be an adrenaline crash. My quads felt like they had run a 20-mile tempo the prior day and they were done. DONE. At Mile 8?!
This is where competing in the race ended for me.
I tried so hard to pick up my legs, but I just kept getting slower and slower. I thought maybe I didn’t have enough electrolytes, so I quickly took a HoneyStinger gel, but that wasn’t it. I proceeded to down Gatorade at every aid station, hoping I could bounce back, but my legs just decided they didn’t want to go any further and by mile 13 my body was begging me to quit. I had slowed to well over 7 minute-mile pace and I wasn’t getting any faster. There was a lot of back and forth and anxiety going on in my head – ‘if I quit, I can save all of my training for another race’ but, ‘if I keep going and just slow down and finish, who knows what path that might take me down in future races?’
I’ve never been in a race where I have thought about quitting. It was bad. After about mile 15 I started walking at every aid station. I was so hot, I couldn’t cool down, and parts of my body were tingling. I was upset , alone, and embarrassed, and I just wanted the race to be over. Ultimately I decided that I’ve known many people to run a race badly injured, finishing no matter what, and I was not going to quit. My new goal was to finish the race, no matter how long it took me, I had to forget my plans and just finish.
A couple of miles later, the lead men flew past me me from both sides, awesomely fast, at a pace faster than my best-ever 1500. It was was another adrenaline booster, causing my heart to pound rapidly in my chest. Shortly after, Meb passed me on my left side, not all that long after he had been dropped by the lead pack, I later learned. "Good job," he took the effort to say. Reminiscing about this moment in the race with my coach, we joked about how awesome it was for Meb to take the time to say good job and how that moment beat the tar out of getting a selfie with him in the bathroom line. He knew my race was going south, and he took the time and effort to honor my toughness and determination for making the decision not to quit.
I took the remaining length of the race one mile at a time, and when I crossed that finish line, I was so thankful to be done (3:06).
Looking back on the race, I've become humbled. There are so many people that I know who have had experiences with marathons far worse than what I experienced on Marathon Monday. I thought I was tough going into the race, but today, I feel 100 times tougher. I learned so much about mental strength that I never experienced while trying to qualify for the Olympic trials, and how I never want to feel that way again. Reflecting on the race with my coach, he offered words that really stuck with me: "You went in with an A, B, and C goal, but you came out hitting a 'D' goal that was more important in the long run than the A. When things went badly, you refused to skulk away and hide, even when it would have been so, so easy."
I will be racing another marathon in December in hopes to qualify early for the 2020 Marathon Olympic Trials, and this race gave me a good idea of what I need to work on.
Thank you all for your support throughout this journey. I am so proud of and amazed by everyone I know who has ever run a marathon, no matter the circumstances. And I am thankful that I had all of you to think of while I was running on Monday.