In July we all embarked on a long journey towards a starting line somewhere. The journey was very similar for many of us, traveling the same roads, climbing the same hills, seeing the same ponds and lakes, drinking the same water and Gatorade, and eating the same Snickers and Gu. When we get to our starting line we go our separate ways and begin our unique race experiences between starting line and finish line. Since each story is different I hope you’ll take the opportunity to share yours with the group when your big race is done. To kick it off, here’s my story from Chicago, add your story as a comment…
My story starts on a cold (32 degrees) windy street in Chicago during the darkness of the early pre-dawn hours. With the moon shining overhead the marathoning quintet of Judi, Katie, Lois, Nancy and myself wandered across the Chicago River to meet up with Barry and Lauren Cossette before heading to the starting area. The sprawling Millennium Park and the city streets surrounding it, filled with is the start of the Chicago Marathon. While Judi and Katie were off finding where the seeded people should be, the remaining five set out to find our bag check, the bathrooms, and the “Open Corral” which we accomplished shortly before the race began. One issue though, the “Open Corral” had only one opening, the back of the corral and we weren’t there. Positioning ourselves next to the 9 minute mile pace group, the corral’s chain link fence the only thing separating us with the start of the race, we made the daring decision to jump the fence when the race started instead of moving behind 20,000 other runners. When the mass of runners started to move we pushed through spectators lining the corral (since when do spectators watch people standing in a corral anyway?) and hopped the fence. I would like to report that this was done athletically and gracefully but that wouldn’t be true. Once over, we were moving towards the starting line instantly, dodging the throw-away clothes runners were tossing towards us at an alarming rate. The pre-race sight of the day was someone else’s hat landing square on top of Barry’s head. With no time for pre-race jitters, under the START sign we went and off into a tour of Chicago.
The first 5K was crowded and slow. With Lauren and Barry by my side we wound our way around many of the races turns at a reasonable pace, through the canyons of Chicago’s Loop, the downtown section of the race. This run still had a feel of just going out for a Sunday Long Run with Barry and Lauren, despite the 45,000 runners around us, and despite the hords of spectators cheering us on. Actually the spectators cheered Barry and Lauren on since they had their names on their shirts. “Go Barry” and “Go Lauren” was heard over and over, to which one of us (mostly me) would add a “and Jim!” as not to cheat me out of some support. Along this section of the run Barry, having had gone on a bus tour of the city prior to the race gave me the free version as we passed by landmark buildings like the Chicago Theatre. A few blocks from the Sears Tower… yeah, I still call it Sears… we turned north through the financial district of Chicago on LaSalle St and out of the city.
The second 5K moved from skyscrapers to 3 story buildings along the flat straight LaSalle Drive north of the city. The further from the city we ran the more tree lined the streets were, making our way to the Lincoln Park Zoo. Running alongside the zoo we passed a bank thermometer telling us it had warmed to 37 degrees as we progressed past the 10k point.
Inner Lake Shore Drive took us to Addison St. home of Wrigley Field. It’s a shame, coming that close to the landmark, the course turns left on Broadway St without catching a good glimpse one of baseball’s storied ballparks. A group of men in cheerleaders costumes, complete with skirts, followed by men twirling rifles quickly took your mind off missing the park as you run through Chicago’s rainbow flag decorated neighborhood known as Boystown. Back in the Lincoln Park area we passed some streets that made us feel welcome: Melrose St, Barry Ave, and St James Pl.
With 15K under our belt, our trio stuck together at a pace slightly stronger than planned. Feeling good we stormed through the Old Town Neighborhood along Wells Ave approaching the city where we spotted Carson’s, a rib restaurant with a bright yellow sign with black lettering. Here, we approached a water stop with porta-potties, which I had to use so I bid Lauren and Barry adieu and stopped for a minute or two.
Past the halfway point I was now running by myself, although still in a thick crowd of runners. Running along the West Loop, west of the city, I decided I felt more comfortable with Lauren and Barry by my side. Rationalizing that on Sunday Long Runs I usually stop too long at water stops then catch up with my pack again I decided this Sunday run should be no different. Picking up the pace a bit I started to close the gap on them. Two miles later I passed the United Center, where Michael Jordan used to help his team come from behind, then came from behind myself to catch up to Barry and Lauren as the course turned back east towards the city.
Passing the 25K mark our pace picked up a bit more. Heading through the neighborhoods of Greektown, Little Italy, Pilsen (a Mexican neighborhood), and Chinatown, the smells of distinctive ethnic foods in the air ushering me by. Somewhere here, inspired by the energy of an Elvis Impersonator singing along the roadside, I picked up my pace pulling ahead of Lauren and Barry, heading out on my own.
After Chinatown comes mile 20, always a crucial part of a marathon. Mental math starts deciding how this marathon is going to go and I realize if I run 9 minute miles the rest of the way I’ll be safely under 4 hours. Adding 9 to each mile marker clock I raced to beat that time to the next marker, each time winning by 15 to 30 seconds. Turning at US Cellular Field where the White Sox play and passing the warehouses of the South Side of Chicago, with three miles left to the race I detected no weariness in my legs yet. The miles kept rolling by in less than 9 minute chunks. The mental math telling me a sub-4 hour marathon is just about clinched, a sub 3:50 is possible if nothing goes wrong. My focus tries to go from the road to the first pain of the race but surprisingly nothing hurts and the miles still seem easy. This is unlike any other marathon I’ve run before, I’m tired but not struggling!
A mile to go and I wonder where Barry is. Still behind me? Possibly snuck by me? Even at this point we’re running in a crowd of runners making spotting him difficult. I listened for “Go Barry”s from the crowd but heard none. Then, at the turn at Mile 26 on a big video screen, I spot a runner with a light blue/dark blue shirt on ahead of me. Barry?!? I try to push a bit harder, with a 1/4 mile left it’ll take a lot to catch him. The only hill in the race is in front of me (really, this doesn’t even qualify as a hill compared to Sunday Long Runs, but for Chicago its a hill) I push up past walking runners, turn the corner and cross the finish line with the man in the light blue/dark blue shirt still ahead of me. Darn! I get a tap on the shoulder, look behind me, and find Barry. It wasn’t him just ahead of me, he was just behind me. While I was trying to catch the Barry impostor the real Barry was right behind me trying to catch me. After starting a run together 3 hours and 48 minutes earlier, 4 seconds is all that separated the two of us at the finish line.
In an instant we have mylar sheets around us, medals around our necks, and a beer in our hand. Shivering in the cold we collect our bags, find Lauren who was only a few minutes behind us, and head of to find Judi and Katie. Shortly after Lois and Nancy finish their races and the group is done with the hard part of the weekend. Seven good runs, five PRs, several beers, and seven big smiles.
Great idea for recaps, Jim! I love hearing these, especially from people I’ve trained with for 18 long weeks. 🙂 As for me, I woke up on race day morning feeling overjoyed about the weather. I doubt there’s a person in MRC who hasn’t heard me moan about the heat so it’s no surprise that the 30 degree temps in Chicago were very welcome. After a chilly walk to the start and an awkward climb over the fence, we were off. Without getting too hopeful, I made note that everything about the run felt good. No aches, no pains, no sluggishness. After a couple slow miles, I settled into a pace that felt comfortable, albeit faster than I’d planned. Since I really wanted the company, I decided to take my chances and stay at Barry and Jim’s pace. With the two of them by my side, the miles passed more quickly than any race I can remember. It took my mind off the fact that we were, in fact, in the middle of a marathon. At the halfway point, I noted that I was seconds off my half marathon PR even though it had felt like an easy pace. I found myself daydreaming about a new 13.1 PR but quickly called myself back to earth and decided I’d better just focus on the task at hand. The miles ticked by with Barry and Jim along for most of them. I wish I’d noticed the city landmarks like Jim but I was more captivated by the spectators and their signs. Some favorites: “Don’t walk, people are watching!â€,“Michael Scott has Jello Shots at Mile 20†and “Running is a mental sport and we’re all insaneâ€. Things went well for me until mile 18. Suddenly, I felt fatigued and I panicked at the thought of hitting the wall so early. I started to doubt everything. At mile 20, the fatigue was still there and then suddenly, there were lower back spasms too. Barry gave me an Aleve but I was afraid of slowing him down so I told him I was going to drop back a bit. Now on my own, I dreaded the remaining 6 miles. My back began to feel better but the rest of me did not. I wanted to walk but I wanted a sub-4 marathon too much to give in. That name on my shirt suddenly started to pay off. Every time I started to shuffle, someone would scream “Go Lauren!†and it would force me to pick it up. Looking back, I wonder how much of “the wall†that I experienced was physical and how much was mental. My Garmin later showed that those miles of torment were not much slower than my early miles of the race. The time I was losing was largely due to stopping at water stops for a drink instead of running through them. Overcoming the anxiety of those final miles is something I’ll need to work on. After what seemed like an eternity, I reached mile 25 and a spectator with a sign that simply read: “HTFUâ€. (I assume this blog is PG-Rated so I’ll leave it up to everyone to decipher that one.) I was half amused/half annoyed and I used those emotions to carry me to the end. After climbing a speed bump that felt like Mt. Everest, I saw the finish line. A favorite song was blasting on the speakers and it gave me a little oomph for the final .2. I crossed the line, stopped my Garmin and saw 3:53. I was ecstatic. Eleven months ago I ran my first marathon nearly an hour slower. Eleven months before that, the thought of even finishing a marathon was laughable. I got a little teary thinking about how far I’ve come and I truly credit MRC for much of that success. After stumbling through the chute, I found Barry and Jim and soon met up with the rest of the gang. Celebrating everyone’s accomplishments in the sun with free beer and our medals around our necks was the highlight of the weekend. It was a great race in a great city with great company. Thanks to all who joined me both in person and in spirit!
Great job! I really love reading the recaps!
Great recaps! What a fantastic job you all did in Chicago as well as Walter in Albany. The Sunday long runs sure paid off. Make sure you take a liitle time to recover. I hope to see you all in a couple of months when we start up again.
On race day I woke up with the nervousness and excitement I always get when faced with a big challenge. Chicago was going to be the second marathon I’ve run since I started running last September. I felt like I had to prove to myself that the first one wasn’t a fluke and that I can improve my previous time. I looked out the window and saw a black sky with some pink off in the distance. I knew the weather was going to be great. We all met up and headed to the start. The beginning of the race was kind of surreal, probably because we had to jump the fence at the start, and it was nice having Jim and Lauren to talk to. Around mile 8 I felt some stiffness in my hip and started to worry. I noticed my stride was getting shorter so I made an effort to lengthen my stride which seemed to help. Other than that, my first 20 miles were summed up pretty well by Jim’s and Lauren’s posts. After I fished the Aleve out of my pocket for Lauren and she told me she was going to slow down I had no choice but to try to catch Jim who had sped up away from us about 4 miles before. I picked up my pace because I knew I’d never catch him without dropping my pace and pushing myself. With 6 to go I figured it was a long shot unless he was struggling. I was feeling pretty good and getting more and more confident as I passed runners At mile 25 I figured with just over a mile left I had nothing to lose. The crowd got thicker and the yells got louder as I got closer to the finish. That’s when I saw the last turn. I knew this was the only hill in the race and at mile 26 it wasn’t going to be easy no matter how small it was. I pumped my arms, kept my head up and weight forward. As I got to the top and headed toward the chute I saw red shorts and a black shirt about halfway down. “Is that Jim?” I said to myself. “Yes it is!” Mentally I was telling my body to go faster. My legs gave me some but wouldn’t give me all I wanted. I crossed the finish line 4 seconds behind our long run captain and was happy to pat him on the shoulder to congratulate him on an excellent race. I was wrapped up in a foil blanket and struggling to untie my chip from my shoe, bending down was a challenge. Jim and I grabbed some grub and water and waited for Lauren. She joined us minutes later and we headed to meet up with Judi and Katie. As we were walking toward the celebration area I heard two words that made my eyes light up and my head snap in the direction the words came from: “Free Beer”. There stood a volunteer looking right at me smiling and nodding with a beer streched out in my direction. Lauren couldn’t stop laughing because I apparently stopped mid sentence when I heard those words and never finished my thought.
Chicago is a great city that I was glad to have had the chance to see and enjoy. It was great having other MRCers there to live the experience with and enjoy the fruits of our labor from the last 18 weeks of training. Great job everyone and good luck to all the other marathoners yet to run!
So here is my story: No optimism in the weather forecast except for Walt saying that there may be a brief window of dryness in the morning. I make my way to Lowell with my gear, two bags to keep clothes and towels dry, and a hope that maybe things stay relatively dry.
Once I get to the Tsongas Arena, I note that it is cold, but dry. No rain. Outstanding. A good omen. I briefly run into Catherine in the arena but see no one else. Lines in the bathrooms are moving well and I am feeling very relaxed.
I get outside and head for the start. I little spritz of moisture, but nothing drastic. I have a rain shell on with hat and gloves. I opted for shorts because I figured pants or tights would just soak up the water if the rain kicked in.
I run into Trevor at the start. The lad is looking ready to beat the course down and as we know, he kicked the tar out of it. A few lame but well meaning jokes from the Mayor of Lowell before the start and then we are off.
At mile 3, I see Lois and Judi (Sue, you must have been buried too deep in your raingear-I did not see you). I almost glide by without detection but tap Lois on the hand and it was like pressing the “applause” button. Big hoots and hollers that lifted this not-so-young lad’s spirits.
Things were just popping along. No pain, tightness, lots of strength and not a whole lot of rain. By the time I loop past the MRC cheering section at Mile 13, things are a bit more damp but still tolerable. I am on pace for the Boston Qualifier.
As I do for most of these marathons, I slide myself into cruise control and wait for the work to begin in the last 7 or so miles. Unfortunately, the cruise control shorted out due to the massive rain, frigid temps and fierce wind that greeted me at Mile 18. No cramping, but start to lose feeling in the legs and I can’t make them do what they are supposed to do. This really sets in by Mile 21 and I am well off pace. The shoes feel like wet cinder blocks at this point and I am doing whatever I can to keep it moving. By Mile 23 I realize that I will not get the BQ and do what I can to try and get home to finish.
Once at the finish, there is no place in the ball park to get dry. No place. I run into Trevor and his lovely wife Colleen and I am amazed that he is still outside when he could be at the UMass Lowell rec center, where I immediately go after getting some food and my bag.
Once inside, I eat, avail myself of the showers and try like you-know-what to get my body temp back up to where it should be. Others were worse off, needing medical attention or help getting their shoes off as their fingers were not functioning.
Once showered and dried off, I made my way back home, got on the Ole Facebook and swapped the war stories.
So, no Boston Qualifier, but not really disappointed. When the weather gets that bad, you have to figure that the goal times will be affected. I am a skin-of-my-teeth qualifier. Proud to have qualified for 4 Bostons and certain I will qualify for more. Unfortunately, I have no margin for error and to qualify, nothing can go wrong. Yesterday, the weather went way wrong.
A huge congrats to all who ran the half and full. Big shout outs to Trevor who just crushed that course and would have been kissing 3:00 had the weather cooperated and Ginny, who broke 4:00. Huge thanks to Lois, Judi, Sue and all else who came out to stand around in that New England mess of weather. So now its on to Mill Cities, and let’s win it there.
Although it was barely more than a week ago, running Chicago feels like it happened long ago, a pleasant memory, kinda fuzzy around the edges, but here is what I remember…
I recall waking up before the alarm. eyes wide open. oh geez, i gotta run this thing. No way to get out of it now. Too many witnesses. So, I get up and ground myself in my Sunday morning pre-long run rituals – oatmeal, a few sips of coffee, lots of Body Glide, the long-debated choice of running clothes and I was ready. I just let the energy of my running posse guide me – Judi, Katie, Nancy, Jim, Lauren and Barry.
Just like a regular Sunday morn, but a striking change in temperatures from what we were used to, and about 45,000 other runners to clog up our path.
Realizing we had to hop a fence to get into our starting corral didn’t seem all that difficult. After all the time it took to move with the crowds, to find the bag check, to make one last bathroom stop, jumping a
fence seemed like just another minor task… until I got one leg over the fence and… hesitated. Fearful of squashing anyone who helped me, I balked. Then bonked. Bonked my head with Nancy’s head that is,
as she made her way over. In seconds I had strangers lifting my leg and pushing me on one side and friends trying to pull me on the other. It was a strange slow-motion Hollywoodish moment and I thought
for sure I was going to start this marathon, my tenth should I finish it, with a less than graceful connection to the pavement. Note to self: brush up on fence hopping technique.
Barely a few minutes to spare after my fence episode, amidst a flurry of flying throw away shirts and pants and hats, the race began. For the first mile or two, my only struggle was keeping on Nancy’s heels and keeping my pants on. With 4 GUs in my hip pocket I was, apparently, a bit weighed down. Not to worry, my capri situation got better over time and I could eventually focus on other things. Like the myriad of thoughts racing through my brain for the first couple of miles. Where am I? Am I going too fast? Where’d Nancy race off to? After the initial brain explosion of worries and anxieties I realized that I was just running happily in the streets of Chicago. How lucky am I? So, I just ran.
I just ran, taking in the people more than anything else along the course. There were those that stood quietly with camera in hand, waiting for their special runner to arrive, biting their lips in nervous anticipation, scanning the hoards of runners. Others incessantly cheering for one and all with boundless energy, especially the male cheerleading squad. A few with gigantic blown up photos of their special person’s face on a stick (creepy). Some outrageous signs – my two favorites were “Toenails are overrated!” which brought out a roar from my fellow runners and one brave woman holding a simply put “Will you marry me?” I spent some time playing that one out in my mind… ah, the escape of a romantic comedy.
And, I ran some more. The miles went by fairly quickly. I felt great. I just took in the sights and the sounds. Amazing buildings. Awesome runners and spectators. It seemed that all my favorite songs were playing as I approached. I read the backs of people shirts as I passed them, and a few as they passed me. And, surprising myself, at every mile marker I would check my watch, compare it to the 4:30 pace tattoo on my left forearm, to find I was keeping ahead of my goal. At mile 15 I remarked to myself, “I totally have 11 miles left in me!” and galloped with a new energy to mile 16, remarking again, “I totally have 10.2 miles left in me!” I kept that routine up all the way to the finish, feeling really good.
Finally the last hill came into view and I knew the finish was near. A final surge when the finish line was in sight and I was done. Wow. And there was Nancy – she shared in my start of the race and was the first familiar smile to find me at the finish.
As you know, from the other’s recaps… the story of the Chicago marathon for the Super Seven who ran it ends happily with free beers in hand, shivering, mylars flying in the breeze, laughing heartily and sharing our stories with the windy city as our witness. Thank you Chicago! Thank you to my running posse! Thank you to all the MRCers who got me through this season in one way or another! It’s all good!
I was delighted to see dry pavement after waking up way before my alarm on marathon morning. After vigilantly watching the weather reports leading up to the big day, I thought there may be the possiblility that we’ll get this thing done in that possible predicted dry window of opportunity. Better pack warm dry clothes and winter coat just the same. I met up with Andy, Dave and Allistar behind Brueegers in the wee dawn hours for the trek up to Lowell. A very entertaining ride up made it feel like we were embarking on a road trip, not on our way to run a marathon or half marathon. BTW AJ is very talented in voice impersonations of various dialects.
At the Tsongas arena I quickly met up with Catherine and Rebecca, and later Lauren and Leanne. We were all indecisive about wardrobe decisions unsure of what the conditions were going to be. I decided to stick with my original plan wearing my jacket, so I could shove gu’s in my pockets and an advil (just in case), and a long sleeve wicking shirt. At the start I followed Laurens lead sqeezing through the gates about a quarter of the way down the pack figuring I could just excuse my way further down. That didn’t work out so well. People were packed shoulder to shoulder and butts to bellies. I started to get a little nervous when the runners around me were talking about there pace. Oh well, it was nice and warm and it was starting to drizzle, so I stayed put until the start.
Shortly into the run the drizzle turned to rain. By mile 2 I was starting to feel warm and thought maybe I should get rid of my jacket, but there was a slight ominous wind that convinced me to hold on to it for a while. That’s right around the time I realized I forgot to start my watch. What can I say I’m a low tech runner! Traveling along we came quickly to the bridge at mile 3. I wonder if I’ll see Lois, I thought. Right at that moment I saw Lois, and Judi, too! Their cheers gave me such a lift, I was overcome with emotion. I couldn’t believe they seemed so happy to be out there cheering on runners, on a cold rainy day. Thank you; Thank you. 10 miles to go until I’d see them again. I passed the 5 mile clock at 42 minutes, a little too fast for me for 26 miles. Carols words of experience entered my head. ” Try to feel like you’re holding back at the beginning, it will pay off in the end”. Oops. Too late, but I’ll try to slow down. At mile 7 we were met with a double hill. Not too bad by Melrose standards, but a hill nontheless. Hey, I thought this course was flat, someone lied to me. The miles ticked right on by. Running along the river with the foliage almost at its peak was really serene.
So, 2 of the things in life that I’m afraid of are heights and bridges (neither one out ranks snakes though). Just after mile 8 the course crosses over the merrimack river on an old, longer than it looks, iron bridge. Only 1 way across, so off I went. Don’t look down, Don’t look down, Don’t Aaaah, why is the bridge swaying up and down. Please god, please, just let me make it across. I’ll be good forever. Just focus on the end and figure out a strategy because I knew I’d have to do it again was my self talk. Off that bridge I was flying high. Take that! You didn’t get the best of me, and I’m gonna be back one more time! Passed the 10 mile clock at 86 minutes, still a little too quick, but I’ll put the extra time in the bank. Feeling pretty good I got a new surge of energy when I passed the MRC ladies at mile 13. This time Sue and her daughter Dani were there, too. Their cheers and smiles made mile 13 disappear in a blink of an eye. Thank you again. Here comes the double hill again this time seeming a little longer that the first time. My back was starting to hurt with pain resonating down my leg. Good thing I had just the thing tucked away in my pocket. My wet pocket. Still most of the advil tablet was intact, so I popped it in my mouth followed with a water chaser. This is the first race I’ve ever done without stopping at the water stops. I tried the strategy of sqeezing the cup and making the best of it. A few hiccups into it, choking, and water up my nose, I had the technique down by mile 14. At least at that point I got more water in my mouth than on my face and down the front of me. Plus, who could tell. It was raining. Second time over that bridge wasn’t as scarry. Maybe it was the rocky theme song serenading us over this time. The wind on this side of the river was picking up, but I still felt really pumped. Passed the 20 mile mark, still smiling, I was on a total adrenaline high. My time was great, only a 10k to go. I’m going to knock this run out of the park and possibly qualify for Boston. Wow! My original goal was to finish in under 4. Maybe these conditions are ideal for me. The next mile things took a drastic turn to disprove that idea. I couldn’t feel my feet, they were frozen. Kevin and the boys were going to be at mile 23, so just focus on that. After a long, steady slightly uphill grade I saw my car parked in a lot across from me. I had them in my sights. I was looking forward to seeing them and the fig bars I planted Kevin with. I had a hard time refueling with the gu, so I was looking forward to those cookies. My smile was frozen in place as I passed my family, high fiving them, holding my hand out for my stash. Kevin was trying to take pictures. Hey where’s my cookies? Guess he thought I was going to stop and chit chat for a while. Not this time. I’m not stopping! A welcome downgrade after seeing my family was all I needed I thought to stave off the encroaching stiffness. Passed a couple of ambulances attending to fallen runners. Ooh, it’s not looking so good out here. The head wind at this point was something fierce. Soaked to the core my body decided it had had enought. Every muscle from my waist down froze up. Just 2.4 miles to go. I started to think about all those long training runs over the summer and how tough some of those end miles were. I made it through those, I could make it through this. I have to say those last 2 miles seemed to take forever. Somewhere in there the smile was wiped clear from my face, replaced with I’m sure a look of agony. I’m glad I wasn’t being videotaped. I knew it wouldn’t be pretty. When the race was over Kevin said he didn’t see too many happy runners out there. Entering the stadium for the finish felt like the final march. Where is that dang finish? Oh, right there under the big sign that says FINISH! 3:56:08. Very happy with that. Very happy for the mylar sheet to shed the rain. Very happy I had my winter coat and wool mittens in my bag with dry clothes, and very glad for that peanut butter and jelly sandwich that tasted so good, and so very happy to have finished.
There are still a few more runners left to complete their fall marathons, and I wish them the best. I pray the weather gods are good to you. Good luck to you. Before we know it we’ll all be congregating again for the sunday morning long runs.
Jim, this was a really good idea. I love all the recaps and how you’ve led the SLR program to be so successful from nothing. Runners have made unbelievable goals and, I’ll say it, all those hilly routes have really made us stronger!
I really like the Baystate Marathon last year and really looked forward to running it again. It was going to be a little sad since 2 people who were at the finish line last year would not be there. My mother in law passed away from lung cancer in September then a week after that, Diane Geehan, a member of the Greater Lowell Road Runners also passed away. She was a fellow nurse who I worked with years ago, a mom and a fast marathoner. She met me at the finish line with a mylar blanket and said she had to volunteer instead of run since she was sick. Turns out, it was her undiagnosed lung cancer that would take her away at 48 years old. Another friend had surgery for breast cancer last week and I knew I couldn’t back down from running this, bad weather or not. The feelings of discomfort that we would have would be minor compared to what they had gone through.
After waking up from a bad dream that showed my alarm going off at 9:45 am (Aah!), I met Rebecca at the Target parking lot and we made our way to the Tsongas arena garage. Inside, we met Lauren Reid then Ginny then Leanne Tierney. Having so many bathrooms inside was such a dream! On our way to the start, I had to go just 1 more time and was able to see Joe and wish him luck.
At the start, i was right next to the guy from Marx sports that got all the race #’s I picked up. He said he was trying for a sub-4 time, seemed too lofty for me so I knew not to follow him. They played the national anthem which was a recording of 5 girls singing a capella at a Texas Tech game. You need to find it on Youtube, its awesome! Felt good when we started, listening to some conversations and trying to figure out what pace I was at. I had joked to a couple of women next to me that I was tempted to go left with the half marathon group but then saw Lois and Judi for the first of 2 times at the bridge and that gave me a boost that combined with my Espresso Love Gu taken later gave me a high I rode til mile 14. Seeing the girls again with Sue made me want to give them a hug but i would not have started again had I stopped.
At mile 21, I finally gave into use the portajohn, mainly b/c there was no line. I almost pulled my back/shoulder muscles pulling my pants up! The pain went away eventually and was looking forward to getting home. I ran into my brother’s 63 year old friend at mile 22 who said he was following the Galloway method and I was so tired I didn’t really know or care what he was talking about. We ran together silently until he pulled back then i was alone again as i was most of the marathon. People were not in talking moods that day, i tried to stir up conversations selfishly to get myself through it.
I always wish the marathon was only 24 miles, the last 2.2 always kill me. I tried to ignore the people yelling, “You’re almost there!”. Tried not to get discouraged at the few people I had passed earlier on who were now passing me. After an eternity, finally went over the bridge and the slight maze to get into the ballpark. Trying to avoid the puddles and vomiting, was so happy to cross the finish line in 4:23:36, almost 6 minutes faster than last year. Starving, finally got my bag after telling about 6 students at the bag check (they’re not getting my vote) and made my way up the stairs(!) to the soup and PB & J and chips, changed in the bathroom to dry clothes. I cheered the other runners coming in while looking for my husband and kids waiting in the nice warm car. Basked in the glow of finishing marathon #7 watching the snow fall(!) and the Pats win.
Congrats to everyone who ran fall races, short or long. Just getting to the starting line is the hardest part so be proud of what you achieved!
Hi Jim,
I did the baystate marathon. Finished 3:55- the weather could not have
been worse. I actually was at mile 20 @ 2:51. Thought I could do 3:30-3:45 however my legs had a different thought. Lots of cramps.
I’m still happy with the end result. Hopefully I can do boston.
Hope to see everyone again in the winter or perhaps sooner.
Stay warm.
Michele DeAngelo
I enjoyed everyone else’s recaps so much that I thought I should do one as well – although I am not sure if I am the party pooper or the cautionary tale.
The weekend started off well. Ginny and I drove down to Falmouth on Saturday. (She had kindly offered to be my support since my family had other commitments – dog, soccer). The weather wasn’t the best that day but that didn’t matter because it was supposed to clear by the next day. We spent a night listening to the wind howl and the rain pour but when morning came the sky had cleared, the wind had died down, the sun was shining and the temps were mild. My hip, which had been bothering me so much that I had taken a week off – felt fine. Everything seemed perfect. We met up with John Lynch and shortly thereafter we started out. It didn’t seem as if we were going out too fast for the first 11 miles where we averaged an 8:50 pace. Around mile 11 I noticed that John was kind of waiting for me a bit after a short hill. He thought it was just our normal pace – he runs faster on the uphills and I usually catch him on the downhills. But I noticed I was feeling a bit tired and told him to go ahead ant any time. I slowed down a bit but wasn’t too concerned at that point. I have frequently felt tired early on in both long runs and other marathons but I have usually just been able to run though it. Things deteriorated over the next few miles and by 14 I was walking and feeling very light headed and dizzy. I thought there is no way I would be able to run another 12 miles. As I was walking, John’s children came running up to me offering me a package of something (maybe Cliff Shots or some such thing) I tuned that down but asked if they might have water. They ran back to their mother who found a bottle of Gatorade in her van for me. I drank a bit, turned down her kind offer of a ride and decided to try and go a bit further, still very unsure if finishing was even a possibility, From there on in I switched off running and walking, carrying that bottle of Gatorade for many miles. I tried to get myself to run a mile then walk a bit – but I don’t think I actually ever made it a full mile before I would start walking.
Ginny waited patiently for me to pass her viewing spot. I also had a couple of friends biking the course who I think at least forewarned her of the problem. She then cheered me through the finish, met up with John who had finished in 3:58 (at least one of us had a good race!) and then Ginny again waited patiently while I got the post race massage I had been hankering for even before the race.
After mulling things over and wishing for a “do-over†button, I think in hindsight (although I think I will never know for sure what combination of factors went wrong) I may have let myself get dehydrated. I usually do the run through the stop, grab the cup and squeeze the top. As Dunkin’s was a sponsor, they were using the small coffee cups for water and I think I was spilling a lot of the water. So I will have to re-think that strategy and although I didn’t think I was going too fast at the start if I could hit that “do-over†button I would definitely be starting out slower!
My Marathon recap will be short and sweet. Happy to improve (34 minutes) but the thing I will remember most is running with Carol and Ginny and the rest of the MRC gang for the Sunday Long Runs. They made a huge difference for me, but much more importantly – they were awesomely fun!