Just a few years ago I viewed marathon runners as a group of crazies who thought it was super fun to torture themselves by running a million miles in the freezing cold or scorching hot conditions. And for what? Right? Makes no sense! I used to watch the New York City Marathon briefly on TV and think “Wow no way would I ever do that”. I’m ok with running a few miles here and there and in perfect weather conditions. But this? Forget it! It’s insane! Why would anyone put themselves through this? Oh and pay to do this!
Why? What a loaded question. Back then it seemed just plain insane but I can answer it now. I love the thrill, the wind in my hair, the primal feel that makes you feel like you’re not human but rather a machine or a wild animal. I love the sights and sounds of the race. The togetherness of us all even as we compete against each other. But mostly just with ourselves.
And so, just a couple of years after my complete disdain for long distance running, and after completing countless 5ks, 10ks, half marathons and 7 full marathons, here I was, lining up at the start of the most prestigious marathons of all, Boston. I had to reflect in that moment that so much has changed for me in the past two and a half years. I felt honored to be given this opportunity and a chance to run this glorious race. I was definitely in awe of it all.
I felt relatively good from the start. Just a little nervous but that’s pretty usual for me. As we began, I kept on thinking “Oh my God, I’m running Boston. It’s actually happening!” The first 8 miles were fast and furious and the crowds cheering was pretty intense. It felt surreal to me. I dreamed about it but when it was actually happening, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was still dreaming! I felt strong and fast and the course seemed to encourage that kind of momentum.
As the clouds started to part and the sun appeared, the feel of the race started to change. Just a little warm at first but still nice. But I knew it wasn’t all that nice when I felt myself getting much too hot than I normally do by the 10th mile. “Well, that’s a little alarming”, I thought. Trying to shake that off by relaxing and easing back on the pace, I was starting to feel better. That was until the sun came out in full force by mile 12 or so and it definitely started to feel way more uncomfortable than ideal marathon conditions.
By mile 14 I thought I was done. The fatigue threatened to unravel me and the wheels were coming off. I was starting to pray hard which sounded more and more like a desperate plea with each passing moment. I questioned if my friends were praying hard enough. I honestly thought they abandoned me. “Pray harder, I’m dying here!” Oh, boy. Yeah it was that bad. Well, since apparently they did, thank you, the tide changed yet again, because a couple of adorable little boys suddenly appeared on the side of the road with orange slices. I normally don’t eat anything in the race but I knew I had to grab one of those. And thank God I did! The cold, sweet and juicy orange revived me and I was beginning to think it was not going to be so bad after all.
What happened after mile 14 and almost all the way to the end was a blur. I honestly don’t remember much. I was zoned out, just trying to find a happy place type of pace and relax as much as possible. I was still able to take in the absolutely crazy awesome crowds. So thankful for their support. Their roar helped to keep on pushing.
I’m pretty sure every long distance runner ultimately becomes really good at complex math while running. We are able to know exactly how much time we need for each split and fractions of seconds become second nature calculations. So, here I was thinking, “Ok if I can make it to mile X by this time, I will need to take Y number of minutes to make it to the next milestone”, and so on. Who said you’ll never use math in real life?
And so I kept on with my calculations while the miles were passing by, which now that I think about it, was probably the reason why I don’t remember much from the second half of the course. Hey, maybe that’s good thing! Because apparently there were hills in there somewhere. I just don’t remember them. I honestly don’t. To me, the whole course felt like it was up and down so it didn’t feel any different in the second half.
Every mile from 14 and 25 felt the same. I knew I just had to stay relaxed and not push hard. I told myself I just needed to get through it. The sun was relentless and it wasn’t getting any easier but it was also not getting harder and I was getting closer and closer to the finish. Once at 25, I perked up as if woken up from a dream. I knew I did it and now I just had to savor the final moments. All the work was done. The final turns were coming up. I was spent but I had to run strong as soon as we turned on Boylston. The roar of the crowds, the magnificent street lined with so many excited faces, and finally the finish banner. Wow, when I finally saw that banner, I thought it was an incredible moment. My eyes, glued to the banner, as my body was working as hard as possible to get me there.
I wanted it to be over and yet I didn’t want the moment to end. The paradox of the final few hundred meters to the Boston finish line. The unicorn was waiting. I just had to cross that line. Once I did and finally got my medal, I breathed a sigh of relief and took in the glorious celebratory moment among the others who just finished as well. I then had to figure out how to get back to my hotel. They made us walk around a million barricades before we could get out to the streets. By the time I was in the elevator of my hotel, I almost blacked out. The sudden stop after hours of running and then walking was just too much for the body. Thankfully the elevator ride was quick and I was in my room ready to take a nice Epsom salts bath while my husband ordered me some room service. I was in heaven. Done. DONE! OMG I just ran Boston and I ran it well. Eventhough it was not a PR, it was only 11 minutes off and considering a difficult course plus the hot weather, I was very happy with the results. I still got a Boston qualifying time and that’s all that mattered. I caught the unicorn and I intend to ride it as many times as I can.
