|
|
Author Jonathan Wyner during Boston Marathon, April 2002 |
"And then there are races that
humble you....
A (fairly) brief encounter with fire on the
road to hell."
Such was my experience of this year's marathon at Boston.
In this 106th running there were many reasons for anxiety. Apart from the fact that we runners were about to subject ourselves to grueling, punishing activity for HOURS, there was the weather. The forecast was for temperatures in the mid 60's to start and rising into the sunny 70's at the finish. While this might be promising for a psychedelic music festival it is not particularly favorable for marathon runners. Everyone on the bus on the way to Hopkinton was discussing the heat, aka impending doom, and adjusting their sights accordingly. Well strangely enough, the cloud cover hung in, the breeze turned more offshore and the weather was never really a factor.
Once I got an inkling of this I decided that this year I was going to be ambitious. My training had been going quite well, and while my mileage was a bit more modest than in years past, my speed/efficiency had certainly improved and I had put in enough long runs including a couple of quality half marathons that had me thinking I was ready.
SO....sitting on the bus I went to plan A...or maybe even A1. Now I know that there is no quicker way to turn a marathon into 'the road to hell' than going out too fast in the beginning....I had even done it before, but I figured that I was going to leave it up to my body to tell me what too fast was. I planned to run relaxed but not pushing the pace. Probably should have left it up to my mind!
It all began innocently enough....First mile 6:05, second 5:59, third 6:01 etc. but I FELT smooth, relaxed and was fairly unconcerned. I was going along so well that I decided that I was going to avoid one of last year's pitfalls (I refused myself the pleasure of relieving myself) and even made a pit-stop at mile 10....yeah 20 seconds lost but no big deal. I was doing fine. Two packets of GU later I was getting ready to tackle the hills. This was the moment I had my first inkling that perhaps I was burning a little faster than was wise. As I came down the flat at mile 17 preparing to run the hills I recalled that the previous three years this was among my favorite parts of the race. I had always felt great at 17, felt strong on the hills and passed numerous runners on the hills. This time I had a small sense of dread and was not especially confident about my strength. As it turned out I passed a fair number of runners on the hills, and got over the top of heartbreak in good shape (I thought). Ok....only 5.2 miles to go. Even if I could hang on to 6:40 pace after the hills I would easily break 2:50. Mile 22 went ok...my feet hurt a bit but hey, I just ran 22 miles right! Mile 23, I see two club members and my cousin on the course and that gives a boost. I felt a bit more ugly, but now it is only a touch more than one lap around fresh pond and I am home. Hell, I can do that in my sleep. WRONG. I hit mile 24 and the universe changed.
|
|
Author Jonathan Wyner during late stages of Boston Marathon, April 2002 |
Suddenly I was only seeing the brim of my hat and the road beneath. The actual horizon had disappeared as I lowered my head trying desperately to mount a charge. OK, this is gut check time and for another half mile my gut kept me going. Then it happened. I thought, gee, I am dizzy, my right calf feels like cement and wouldn't it be nice to walk for a stretch. I tried to stave off the idea but I just felt awful. Ok, I walk for 30 seconds, get back on the horse and I can still make it. I walked 30 and then ran 60....but my legs just wouldn't do it. I walk again at 25. At this point I was passing Fenway park and the Sox game had just let out. There were throngs of ...er....lubed (looped?) fans cheering louder than they knew. They encouraged me...I ignored them. What did THEY know about running? However after a minute I rallied my legs and figured I was going to jog in anyway 'cause it was faster than walking to the finish line (why didn't I think of this earlier!). I couldn't handle much more of this. Once I resumed running again the crowd went WILD which I must admit was kind of fun. I got to mile 26....385 yards to go and decided to walk briefly again. The crowd got even louder and then, once I resumed my jog the screamed a self-congratulatory scream that they had impelled me to run again. Little did they know....I could make them scream again if I wanted. Anyway, I ambled in. My chip time was 2:51:40. 21 seconds slower than last year when I ran a much more conservative race.
My goal of breaking 2:50 is still out there. I am not especially happy about that...in part because I will probably have to DO something about it at some point, but right now I am happy this is over. I made a conscious decision that I was going to 'go for it' today. I knew from the start that I was playing with fire, but I have been working hard to learn my fire safety habits and my training might have supported the risk on another day. I think it was worth the attempt and the risk.
Having said that, what an event Boston is! I met people from four continents, young and old, ambitious and relaxed, and all there for the sheer pleasure of the challenge they set before themselves. What a thing to do. Even the road to hell has it bright spots!
Ah, and the greatest pleasure of the day was that Deborah was there to catch me at the end....
