For months I thought about it. I remembered the sense of accomplishment I got from completing the 2010 run. I remembered how proud of me my kids were, and how much I liked that. And so I tentatively planned on running in 2011. I went about my training. It was a snowy winter and too much of it was on the treadmill. But I did some long runs on the weekends. I peaked with a 19.5 miler three weeks before the big day. I ran the Boston Tune-Up to get comfortable in a race environment going at my own pace. I guessed I was ready. All along I was waiting for something to come up to prevent me from running, but nothing ever did. No injuries, no serious setbacks, no unavoidable scheduling conflicts; not even a rainy forecast. So when the time came, I had no excuse not to run.
Saturday. Picked up some GU and power bars at REI. Intended to do a 2 mile slow run but never got around to it. Took the kids to soccer, ate Mexican food and did yard work. Mellow.
Sunday. Took the kids to the Marathon Expo at Hynes Convention Center. Nice atmosphere. Saw Bill Rogers, a great runner from 30 years ago. Joked with the guy in the Montreal Marathon booth about the Bruins and Canadiens. "You root for the Bruins and I'll run the Montreal Marathon". "No deal" (with a French Canadian accent). Collected a bunch of freebies and picked up a T-shirt to run in. White with marathon wording and logos. Kids decorated it when we got home. On the top, front and back they wrote "BIG PAPI". The rest of the front says "FRAMINGHAM DAD" with notes from the kids. There's a big red heart between the messages. The back has lots more messages. Everything is written in colored marker. Late night pasta dinner while watching Ray Allen win it with a 3-pointer for the C's. Life is good.
Monday Pre Run. Pancake breakfast. Dropped the car next to the Framingham train stop. Hopkinton SP at 9:30. Shuttle to the start with the other runners. Mood is quiet. Starting area. Upbeat music. Cool with a strong breeze. Glad to be wearing a thick old sweatshirt. There's a big crowd. A lot of volunteer organizers. The first wave leaves. Instructions are given to the second wave runners to get in the corrals. They leave and the third wave is given instructions. There are hundreds of un-bibbed runners waiting. Once the third wave of registered runners is lined up in their corrals, the unregistered bandits start lining up behind the race organizers. Aside from not wearing bibs, the bandits are easy to tell from the real runners. The clothes, the look and the attitude are all different. No doubt every one of us would love to be able to qualify. The third wave is leaving, the line of race organizers is backing up, the mob of bandits is moving forward. It's all very organized and peaceful. Then the organizers step aside and we begin trotting forward. Soon we're approaching the starting line.
Monday Run: I start 53 minutes after the elite runners. The fastest I can move is a trot. Completely boxed in. The whole street is covered with runners. I look forward and see a mass of bobbing heads and brightly colored shirts. Looks like a gumball machine. The Hopkinton fans cheer us on. Runners toss outer layers to each side. There are layers of discarded sweatshirts. The slow pace and close quarters promotes conversation. The mood is jovial.
I maneuver around slower runners. It seems a lot of the charity runners are running slow. They seem to all be running with partners and unintentionally creating little blockades. I get by them mostly on the right edge of the road. This gives me a chance to high five some kids. Cool. At 1 mile I discard my sweatshirt by tossing it to a guy holding a sign. I heard all discarded clothing is donated to Big Brothers/Big Sisters. He doesn't see it coming and it wraps around his head. "Sorry". Able to run faster now, just not straight. The first water stations are at 2 miles. A string of 10 or 12 volunteers on right side. The first 5 or 6 volunteers are handing out paper cups of gatorade; the next 5 or 6 have water. Then, a little down the road, the same thing is happening on the left side. Nice. But 27,000 runners have passed through here already. There are a lot of cups on the ground despite the volunteers cleaning up. The road is wet with discarded beverages for 25 yards. Closest to the stations the ground is sticky from the gatorade. Hydrating the masses is a messy undertaking.
Hopkinton turns into Ashland. We're running into Boston from the countryside. A lot of families are out to watch. The density of runners remains high. If I extend my arms in any direction, I'll touch another runner. Into Ashland; miles 3 and 4, feeling good. Warmed up, full strides. We're past the blockaders and the density is less. I pass Ray Allen's mom. His shot had won Game 1 of the playoff series against the Knicks the night before. "Great shot by Ray!". She smiles broadly "It was an unbelievable shot!". I am hearing more "Go Big Papi!" calls as I run on the left side of the road. I give a little wave of acknowledgement each time. And the nearer we get to Framingham, more and more "Go Framingham Dad!" calls. As we enter Framingham I yell "Let's hear it Framingham!" and the spectators whoop it up. Feeling good. Lots of energy. Adrenaline. Forcing myself to keep my pace slow.
I'm a rock star running through Framingham. "Go Big Papi!" "Framingham Dad!". I stay on the left side because that's where I know the kids will be. Somewhere between the train station and the center of downtown. 11:45. I'm right on time! I started a couple minutes later than expected, but I made it up by running faster than planned over the first 10k. And there they are! Mariana is holding a brightly colored homemade sign on a broom handle "Go Papi!". Francisco smiles broadly and points as he sees me. They cheer loudly. I step off the road to be with them. Big hugs and a quick picture. They are smiling. Proud. Makes me feel good. I grab a power bar and 2 gels from Francisco's bag. "See you in Newton!". I can't let them down. Got to keep my pace and get to the Newton Fire House at 1:30.
I eat the power bar right away. Too hard to carry. It's dry and sweet. Before the next water station I suck down a hammer gel. "Mountain Huckleberry". yech. Like cough syrup sludge. I drink 2 waters. Do these things help? I dunno. I keep at it. There are guys telling me the score of the Red Sox game. 2-0 in the fourth. Then I see the same thing on a white board. Framingham turns into Natick. I'm no longer a rock star (Framingham and Natick are rivals). Somebody has constructed a mini Eiffel Tower. It must be 3 stories high. There is a lady standing on scaffolding half way up it cheering us on. There's less talking among the runners now. We enter Natick Center, Mile 10. There's music and big crowds. The adrenaline has worn off for me. I feel like I'm 10 miles into it.
On, to Wellesley. There was going to be newspaper reporter interviewing local runners, but I guess I missed it. I'm hitting every left side water station. I alternate between Gatorade and Water. It's a nice day to run. There's a guy with a camera on a makeshift bridge over the road at 13.1. The road is painted with the half way marker and there's a big digital clock. I subtract 53 minutes. 2:06. A little ahead of schedule.
Next comes the “Scream Tunnel”. Wellesley College. Noise! The girls are all lined up along a line of barriers and they are cheering loudly. They're holding "Kiss Me, I'm from Cali”, "Kiss Me, I'm Irish" "Kiss Me, Whatever" signs. There are hundreds of them; all beautiful. What are the requirements for this college? 5”7” 115 pounds and gorgeous? Great fun. Boston College and Cleveland Circle have nothing on these fans!
Legs are feeling sore now. I suck down a 2nd gel; GU Tangerine. Stomach doesn't feel great. Dehydated? Hope not. I drink a couple of waters. I think of the kids waiting for me at 17. We turn onto Route 16 and pass over Route 9, then the Pike. Still running ok. Getting tired though. We pass the Country Club and I think we're approaching the Fire House. We pass 17 and I move over to the left side and begin looking for the kids. They'll be at the street one block before the turn onto Comm Ave. And there they are! They saw me first. Mariana's jumping up and down with her sign. Francisco is sitting on the curb. I'm on time. I'm good. The colors on my shirt have bled some. Not too bad. I'm bleeding a little from chafing on one nip. I put some vaseline on it (Lube Up!). I stretch a little as I talk to the kids. I take the 2nd power bar and another gel from Francisco's bag. Tired. Sore legs. But no blisters or injuries. I know the hard part starts now. But I won't quit if I'm not injured. Onward. "See you at home!".
I feel stiff restarting after just a two or three minute break. I eat the power bar at 18. Heartbreak Hill. 8 more miles. “This is gonna hurt”. Heartbreak is a series of three long hills between the Newton Fire House and Chesnut Hill. It's a stretch of nice homes through one of Boston's wealthiest suburbs. The fans are out in force. Super supportive to all the runners. This is the hardest stretch of the race, because of the hills, and where they lay on the course. Everyone is running slow now. Some are walking. Just keep moving forward....
I am walking at the water stations. Long strides. I make sure I drink it all down. I walk a little further. And I begin a slow trot. Very tired. A cramp under my ribs. I think of what I tell my son: "Nobody ever died from a cramp". 19 mile marker. 7 more. Up the hill. “Keep moving forward”.. I'm in a "Dead Man's Shuffle". Short strides. Arms close to my body. Head down. “I'm gettin' there”. I don't think there's any such thing as pace at this stage. At least not for me. 20. Getting there.
And then somebody says "This is the top of Heartbreak Hill". And I look up. I’m on level ground! Boston College. "It's LOUD". The kids are SHOUTING at us. Big parties. Loud music. More drunks than I remember from last year. They yell encouragement to us. They offer us beers. One kid runs out to me. "GO BIG PAPI!" "YOU CAN DO IT!" "YOU GOT THIS!". It's always awkward dealing with drunks; harder when you're nearing exhaustion. Easier just to give him what he wants. And he means well. He High Fives me.
We're past the worst of it. There are no more hills. But we're really not able to run either. Slow jog. I wish I were able to take advantage of the downward slopes and flat area. We go through Cleveland Circle and the crowds are thick. Then we're in Brookline and we can see the Citgo Sign. Won't be long now. We go under Mass Ave and I know we're getting close. I pick up my pace and tell myself to "Finish with Dignity". Then we're on Boylston Street, a wide open boulevard lined with fans. Way down the road we can see the blue banner that is the Finish Line. Everyone is running now! I finish clapping hard. 4:27.
I've finished my second Boston Marathon!
Monday Post Run. The race is super well organized all throughout. The finish line is no different. They move us along away from the finish line. I fist bump another runner. A volunteer puts a foil wrap on me and says "Great Job!". Another tapes it closed over my chest. A third hands me a bottle of water. There are more looking for runners who may need additional help. There is a big medical tent nearby. I finish the water and look for more. They are giving medals to registered runners. I step away. The wind blows the foil wrap over my shoulder. Windy. I walk/shuffle toward Back Bay Station. I really want to sit. Get off my legs. I sit on a curb and a runner says "Knees?". Her friend (mother?) hands me a bottle of water. "Thanks".
After some time I move on to Back Bay Station. I consider stopping somewhere for a celebratory beer, but decide against it. The short walk to the train station feels longer than the last mile of the run. The walk downstairs to the train platform reveals to me that my thigh muscles have had it. There are commuters and runners waiting for the Worcester Express. The benches on the platform are full. I sit on the ground. The train comes and we have to walk the length of the platform. Cruel. I push ahead in the queue. I really need a seat. I enter the train. There are a few empty seats scattered around. I find a woman in a business suit at a table with her bags on the seat next to her. "Excuse Me" I say quietly. She moves the bags and looks at me. Or smells me. haha. She squeezes as far as possible away from me. Bet she's never had to share a seat with anybody like me! The train conductor walks through taking tickets. I pull $20 from my shoe. "You a runner?" (duh!) "Yes" (too tired to be wise). "You're all set". "Thank you". As she walks away I say under my breath "At least I got something out of the deal". The guy across the table says "And that makes it all worth it". It feels good to rest. It's hitting me now that I really finished. Nice.
I get off at Framingham and have to walk up 4 flights to cross over the tracks. Cruel! Walking down 4 flights on the other side is much worse. How did my leg muscles get shorter? I walk to where I left my car and think "I'm doin' ok". I find a water bottle in the car and drink it down in three swigs. I drive home and my kids greet me loudly. Hugs all around. Some more water. A long hot shower. Nice. Fresh clothes. I make my way downstairs and lay on the couch with the kids. Dry. Clean. Sore. Content!
