Jersey City Marathon

After being squeaked out of being able to register for Boston, and not managing to secure a charity bib for Boston, I belatedly answered the call to be a pacer for the Jersey City Marathon and was able to get on the team, as a spot at my pace was still open. In the last week before both marathons were held, I inferred from a message from one of my friends that they just might be able to swing a "miracle bib" for Boston, and I tried to gameplay how I would manage to do both races while not getting my hopes up too high. (There would be LOTS of driving involved.) To my mom's great relief (no offense taken here -- she worries), Boston didn't happen - so I was only running Jersey City.

I left very early on Saturday morning so that I could not only help out manning the MarathonPacing.com table for a bit of time, but also do some of my afternoon/evening plans (which I'll get to). Given the early departure, it only took me 4 hours to drive up and park at the expo. Amazingly little traffic.

As I understand it, in the previous few years, they were in a small area of a nearby mall, where the vendors wound up getting nearly no foot traffic. So, this year was the first year that they had an expo in a dedicated ballroom (actually, two) in a hotel. The main room was rather a bit cramped, and unfortunately our table was directly next to the OrangeTheory (?) table, where they had a C2 Concept rowing machine set up to challenge people to row 100m as fast as they could. The prize for fastest male and female was something like a free personal training session, I think. All well and good, but in addition to the loud cheering on of each competitor, they were ring a cow bell as loudly as possible. Despite the fact that I am frequently yelling "More cow bell!" (thank you, Christopher Walken) on course when I hear someone ringing/banging one, this is one time I wanted no part of it. It made it VERY difficult for us to have conversations with the runners who had any questions about pacing and joining up with us on race day, etc. Oh well, there's really no way to have known that in advance -- hopefully the arrangement next year will be more conducive to conversation.

After spending about 90 minutes or so chatting with full and half marathoners, giving them advice, allaying some fears, etc., I went and grabbed the lunch that they were providing to vendors (in which I had been advised we were permitted to partake) before changing to go into Manhattan. Nice -- I was figuring I'd be grabbing a last second meal in the City before the show I was seeing.

I changed in the men's bathroom, dropped my change of clothes and race stuff inside my car, and set out for the PATH train into Manhattan. In all of the years I lived in New York, including the several years I lived in Queens, I had never set foot on the PATH train; I didn't really know what to expect. Wasn't all that different from the subway, except that their speaker system actually had intelligible announcements. The biggest problem I had with them for the two stations I wound up using within NJ over the weekend is the fact that their signage was only sufficient to point you broadly to the station, but there was none that actually pointed you to the specific entryway on the side out of sight, so it's easily overlooked if you haven't been to the station before. (I passed it initially by a block before asking someone and being pointed to where it was.)

Once in Manhattan, I had to book it pretty fast to make my way uptown the 12 blocks to the show. But I couldn't help but stop and take a photo of an amusing sign on my way:

I wound up arriving at the Golden Theatre and got to my seat about 2 minutes before curtain. I felt like Robert Wang catching a flight. (IYKYK)

Operation Mincemeat is a very amusing show. There's good reason why it's run has been extended as much as it has been. In short, it's based on a real-life World War II operation where the Allies needed to convince the Germans that they would be invading Sardinia, so that the Germans would shift their forces off of Sicily -- where the Allies were actually intending to invade. That they were able to turn this into a fun musical comedy is truly something. Certainly recommend seeing it, if you're able.

Afterwards, I met up with my mom who made the trip into the city for dinner. It was a cute (if a bit loud) Italian restaurant I found between Penn Station and the PATH train entrance I would eventually need to get to. Very good food, and nice time catching up and chatting.

After seeing her off and getting back to Jersey City, on my brief walk back to the car, I decided to take a minor detour onto a pier to see if there was an angle to view the Statue of Liberty from there -- rather than either walking or driving down the 2 miles to Liberty Square Park. Nope -- I had no good angle given some of the buildings on the Jersey City side that were in the way. And the low cloud ceiling obscuring part of lower Manhattan was a good portent for the morning. The spire and top several floors of the Freedom Tower  (at One World Trade Center) were totally obscured.

We had been advised in our internal pacer e-mails that we should expect it to take about 45 minutes to park in the nearby parking garages. I decided I would do differently. Rather than park by the start/finish line, I chose to park in Hoboken, a few blocks from the PATH train, and take PATH one stop down -- which let out exactly at the starting line area. Much easier, and no hassle. (And I even met a couple of ladies who would wind up joining my pace group for their half marathon, at least for a little while.)

It is relatively infrequent in my pacing experience so far that we get our own tent in a cordoned off area (along with the VIPs and elites) where there are reserved portapotties. So, not only can we stay out of the elements for as long as possible, we also have a much more manageable amount of time to be in line to make one last pit stop. While I was waiting for my turn, I saw a group of people clearly running as 101 Dalmatians -- some already spotted, others putting on black spots onto their white shirts. (There were only about a dozen people right there.) I asked one of them if they actually had 101 or 102 people running as Dalmatians, and they noted they didn't have that many. And then he offered me a sheet of spots that I could put on to join in. Sure, why not! While putting them on my shirt wouldn't work well (it was blue, so would be odd), I was wearing white arm sleeves, so they'd pop quite nicely on those.

I got back from my pit stop as the pace team was taking a photo. Thankfully, I was able to jump in -- they took a couple of more photos.

Shortly afterwards, it was off to the corral to line up, "round up" our respective groups, and go! It was a little chilly (in the mid-40s), but not too bad. The wind was light at this point, and there was only a brief sprinkling in the couple of minutes immediately before the start.

I was in corral 7 (of 8), and we wound up crossing the start line about 7 minutes after the starting gun went off. The first half mile or so was very cramped given the narrow street, but that was fine as it made sure that I didn't go out too fast compared to my planned pace.

While my Garmin indicated that most of the miles were longer than a mile (as is expected), I was able to adjust appropriately to make sure I was within the narrow goal time window at every marker.

Unlike several of the last races I've paced, this time around I had a pretty energetic group with me, willing to answer loudly when asking them how they were doing. I got a few sporadic answers to some of the more specific questions I asked, and had some brief conversations based on topics that were raised or random questions asked of me.

After Mile 12, the half and full marathons split away from each other, and my group became a fair bit smaller. But soon after we passed halfway (a little after 9:15am), the wind kicked up something fierce. Round about Mile 16, it was so strong, many of us felt like we were being linked by all of the pink flower petals that were being torn off of the trees and pelted into our faces from the side as we ran by. I was lucky -- I was able to use my pacing sign as a shield for my face. It was BRUTAL. And that wind didn't let up for much of the rest of the race. Several times, when it was a headwind, I would alert/remind everyone to run single file and use the person in front of them as a windbreak. Most of the time they would dutifully fall in behind me until we got a break with the wind.

While I had a number of first-timers who were amused by most of the signs, there are few times when a sign is unique for me. (After all, this was marathon #96.) But there were two that stood out:

"Free beer and sex at the finish line"

"Daddy, run as hard as Mommy runs her mouth" (held up by the mommy, with her little child next to her)

Similar to Miami, there were a few spots on the course where the runners were being overcrowded/encroached upon by the spectators cheering us on. Unlike Miami, this time my using the pacer sign to "swat" the air signaling people to move out of our way was actually understood. In one area, a guy who had a microphone actually augmented my signal and asked everyone to move back to make more room for us. Phew!

Around Mile 20, I typically make a comment about how the first half of the race is done, that the second half is just beginning. (From an energy stores point of view, that is.) I also ask what their go-to mantras are when things get tough (since this is usually the point in the race when things are really hitting hard for most runners). There were several really deep answers, as opposed to my trite "You got this!" One of them even said he reaches for William Ernest Henley's "Invictus":

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul. 

...

I am the master of my fate,

I am the captain of my soul

And also quoted Dylan Thomas:

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Not things that would have come to mind as particularly uplifting, but apparently it's what gets him through. And certainly well enough, because he was one of the people who finished in front of me.

 

Given a conversation in the pacer tent ahead of the race where one of the other pacers shared his strategy of how he pushes his group ahead of him near the end, I decided to follow suit. At about Mile 23, I announced to the few who remained that I expected them to be in front of me by the time we hit Mile 25 or so. Around the time we hit Mile 25, without my saying anything further, three of my runners slowly drifted ahead of me. And whereas there were many times on the earlier part of the course where I would say something about "pull it back, don't need to be quite so fast" to not only indicate that I was going to be slowing a drop, but that they needed to do likewise to stay with me, I said nothing. And once they were far enough up, I said loudly enough for anyone else around me that they need to get in front of me by Mile 26.

As I crossed the line, I knew I was at least close to "the pin," but was unclear how far away from it I was. For those who don't know from some of my other posts, this particular pacing team makes a game out of our respective finish times. While we each have whatever time is on our sign for our respective goal, under which we are looking to get our group, our "true" goal is 30 seconds under the sign's time -- this is "the pin" -- and we have 30 seconds leeway on either side of the pin. (Just a different way of looking at the same time window most/all pace groups have, make sure to be no faster than 1 minute from you posted goal time, and not even 1 second slower than it.) It wasn't until I was sitting at lunch that I saw that I actually hit the pin exactly -- 4:29:30. While I've been closest once before, I had never hit it exactly. Sweet!

Shortly after the finish line and medals, they did a great job of providing the post-race food and drink by having everything prepackaged in the same large clear bags as what they used at bib pickup. This made it so much easier to get through and not have to worry about juggling an excessive number of things in our hands. Especially since by this time the wind was truly insane, and the fenced-off gauntlet we needed to walk through before we could exit the area felt even longer than the post-race area in Central Park after the New York City Marathon (even though it's definitely not that long). While they had handed out mylar sheets, they were so small that, had I wanted to put it around my waist, it wouldn't have reached all the way around -- so anyone trying to wrap it around their upper torso for warmth, they were totally S.O.L. While I was cooling down pretty quickly, I was just warm enough to not even try to deal with it. On my way out, I caught up with a couple of the people from my group who had finished in front of me -- they were very appreciative of the assistance.

Finally escaped from the fencing, I was pointed in the direction of where I wanted to go (as I had been totally turned around, no clue where I was). Being able to get back to the tent (sure, unheated, but totally out of the wind) was a godsend. I was able to change into my warm change of clothing, have a little bit of the post-race food, and wish good luck to a couple of the other pacers who were soon to be driving up to Boston to run in the marathon the next day. The double that I had been hoping to do. Good on 'em for having a good enough time to get in.

On my way to the original place I chose to go to lunch, I decided to look up the precise address (though I knew generally where I was going). It worked out well, because in doing so, I saw they were temporarily closed. So, on to the other burger joint I had been looking at which was only a block or two away from that.

Yes, it paled in comparison to what would have been my post-race lunch (dinner, really?) in Boston at Mr. Bartley's, but it was still quite good.

While I was dining, it started to rain. Thankfully, I had my duck umbrella with me, not to mention my New York City Marathon poncho. (Damn, that alone is worth the price of admission to that marathon.)  The walk back to the PATH train was still a cold, wet, windy schlep. Both on my way to the PATH, and then again on my way to the parking garage where my car was, there were multiple times the wind was so strong, I was basically standing still bracing myself against the wind with the small umbrella as shield.

Finally back to the car, I headed up to my cousins' apartment. Showered and changed, I then hung out with the family of four (plus the older son's fiancee) for several hours before finally hitting the road back home. While they offered to put me up so that I could drive home rested, I wanted no part of the rush hour traffic that I would surely encounter either in New Jersey or the DC area, depending on departure time. The last hour was definitely difficult, fighting my fatigue. But I managed to get safely home a little after midnight. By the time I finally collapsed in bed, it was 21 hours after I had first awakened. Damn, it was a good call to make sure I took off Monday from work. Doubly so because I was able to watch most of the Boston Marathon on TV in the gym -- and was able to witness both champions (John Korir and Sharon Lokedi) complete back-to-back wins, and Korir even destroyed the course record -- setting it at 2:01:52 -- astonishing enough, but for the course profile that Boston is? He just might be able to chop off enough time from that on a flat course to break two hours! (While he claimed in the post-race interview to not be thinking about that, I think he was just being modest. How could he possibly not be thinking about that possibility?)

Coast Guard Marathon 2026

While two years ago I placed first in my Age Group as I was chasing a sufficient BQ, this time I was running as a pacer looking to assist people in my group accomplish their respective goals, be it finishing their first marathon to setting a personal record to getting their own BQ, or whatever else.

I drove down on Saturday morning (not bad at 4 hours from northern Virginia to Elizabeth City, NC) and, having arrived too early to check in and drop my bags into my room, I went to the expo, to pick up my bib, my new branded pacer shirt (since we have a new sponsor -- recover), and hung out for a while at the pacer table, both chatting with a few fellow pacers and answering all manner of questions from the next day's half and full marathoners.

We even had a brief visit from the mascot of Texas Roadhouse restaurant, who was one of the sponsors and who was providing lunch for the vendors. (Shame I didn't know that I could have partook (partaken?) in that. What I got from one of the food trucks outside was tasty, at least.)

A couple of hours later, I bid farewell for the day and walked around the small town a little bit, checking out a couple of things for tomorrow's parking and lunch situations and came across a couple of nice murals I hadn't seen before painted on the sides of buildings.

Having stood for a couple of hours and walked around town for a little bit, it was decidedly a good idea to get back to hotel, check in, set up my gear for the morning, and hopefully have enough time to use the Normatec boots for an hour before setting out for dinner.

Well, I got most of the plan done. By the time I arrived at the hotel (only a few miles from the start/expo), there was a VERY long line of people trying to check in. Sigh. As I entered, I passed one of the other pacers I had met at the expo, who had just finished checking in. Dutifully, I made my way to the back of the line, which looked like it would take forever. What made the wait truly bad was the fact that it was a hot day, and the hotel did not put on the air conditioning in the lobby area, so it was sweltering in there. (I felt sorry for the guys behind the check-in desk.) Surprisingly enough, despite the fact that there were at least a dozen rooms (from singletons to families) in front of me, it took only about 20 minutes for me to be the one checking in.

Having learned from my prior turn down here that the Italian restaurant I had found is extremely busy on Marathon Saturday (and having not gotten a table last time because of it, despite the early hour), I made reservations weeks ago, and was immediately seated, despite arriving about 15 minutes early. The view from my corner table was really quite nice. (It's a small enough place, so long as you're in the main room, all of the tables have a similar view.)

It was reasonably fast to get the complementary bread (mmm... tasty) and side salad, but it was SO busy, though, it took about 40 minutes before I got my entree. It was well worth the wait, though. Quite happy with the choice.

Back at the hotel, I finally donned the Normatec boots for a little pre-race recovery, got sucked into watch Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (for the umpteenth time -- such a fun movie, especially with the character-related easter eggs), and did my best to hit the sack early. Alas, it was a somewhat restless night -- in part because of trying to go to bed early, and in part because it wasn't the most comfortable of beds for me.

Morning arrived soon enough, and I went about my regular routine for getting ready. Given I had been denied a late checkout, I made sure to pack out and get everything into my car. I arrived plenty early to my planned parking location, so just sat in the car for about 30 minutes -- covered in my mylar blanket, given the chilly pre-race morning. 

I made my way over to the tent that was made available for the pacers -- where we not only picked up our pacer sticks and had our pre-race meeting (during which we recite the Serenity Prayer), but also were allowed to store our drop bags (rather than use the gear check everyone else was using). At one point in conversation, one of the pacers, who was had his bib picked up by someone else the day before, asked if anyone had some safety pins, so he could pin it on his shirt. For months now, I have made sure to have several safety pins fastened to my shoelaces for just such a request. So, I started to reach down to take them off of my shoes when I noticed there were none. And my RaceID wasn't on my sneakers, either. Oy! I had put on the wrong pair of shoes. While I could have run the race in the pair I had on, I use "retired" sneakers (that have gone past their "expiration" date of 400-500 miles of use) as walking shoes, not running. So, I sprinted back to my car (only about 2 blocks away) to switch my sneakers -- mostly for me, as someone else was able to provide safety pins to the person who asked for them.

Then, after the group photo, one of the other pacers did something that I've not seen done before -- she commandeered two of the port-a-potties for use by the pacers. So, all of the pacers followed and lined up, specifically to use a couple of port-a-potties that opened up by the time we got there, jumping in front of the very long line of racers. Amazingly enough, we didn't hear a peep out of anyone when we did that -- presumably because it was blatantly obvious what was going on (since we were all wearing our pacer shirts and carrying our pacing sticks). But if we had to line up among everyone else, as we typically do, we would not necessarily have made it into the corral early enough to line up properly and gather up our respective groups. This needs to become a regular thing at more races!

It was finally time to get into the corral, lined up by time, deal with the various speakers, and finally be sent off. Go!

The corral area is far too tight. Not only do they have the broad pace range signs set up starting at the very front (despite the fact that we can't line up that far forward to begin with because of the wheeled athletes and duos that take up the front space for their start before everyone else's), which cramps the really fast paces on top of each other, but there isn't enough space in the other ranges to enable a good self-sorting by expected finish time. The race has grown enough over the last several years, they need to expand that out further.

But, in short enough order (maybe within a half mile), the cramped pack of runners spread out enough and was running at their expected paces with reasonable amount of room to have a normal stride length. I asked a couple of questions of my group, trying to see who was actually in the group -- how many first timers (only one replied in any way), what number marathon was this for the non-first-timers (only one replied -- 30-ish), what bucket list races do people have after completing the day's races (one replied Cape Town (the newest candidate for the Majors), which turned into a bit of a conversation among several of us about the various Major marathons).

While the day started out chilly pre-race, it warmed up very quickly by the time we set off, especially as it was a crystal clear sun. ("Whose job was it to order a cloud to put over the sun?" I asked, as is my wont on sunny days. One of the runners was thankfully comfortable enough to say "Yours!") My frequent refrain of "drink and douse" was said about a dozen times or so, advising at each and every water stop, even the early ones before it had really warmed up much.

While there was sufficient water and Hoist (an electrolyte drink) on the course, the usual confusion of which would be first was ever-present, exacerbated by there being do difference in the design of cups used. Standard.

My biggest gripe that, to date, is unique (I think) to this race, out of all of the ones I've run (and this was #95), is the number of vehicles that were actively driving ON the course. And I'm not referring to the one road that we were one where one lane of traffic was coned off for the race (half the width of the lane for each direction) where the other three lanes of traffic were available to the cars -- that's normal and expected -- but the MANY sections of the course within some of the neighborhoods where there were residents who were driving on our section of the course in either direction, and at least once or twice where there were two cars going in opposite directions headed for each other in the same space that the runners were running. No cones separating runners from traffic, no course marshals directing/holding up traffic to let the runners pass by safely. While the overwhelming majority of the time such drivers were going at a crawl (maybe 5 mph?), there were at least 2 or 3 times where the drivers were certainly going a fair bit faster than that (maybe 10mph or faster?) and, given they were amid runners (and often approaching from behind), they were dangerously fast. This is a situation that desperately needs to be fixed for future runnings of this race.

There were multiple times during the race where a couple of the Coasties in my group were chatting -- one civilian employee and a rear admiral (!). While they were usually maintaining their distance a few feet behind me, I would occasionally chime in, adding an extra anecdote or answering some probing questions. Topics of conversation that we had?

• Gout (the civilian sounded like he was currently suffering from it, and I answered his questions about my apparent bout with it around the Miami Marathon)
• Using anti-seizure medication to help with cramps (rather fascinating concept that there is one train of thought that cramps might be mini-seizures of the muscles, and the gabapentin/neurontin that he had been prescribed seemed to do the trick; I mused whether my having been cured of epilepsy as a child had a role to play in the fact that I don't cramp during my marathons -- or if it's just good enough nutrition that I manage during races)
• Experiences with people passing us in races where they have... had unfortunate accidents. The one that he related was much more graphic and disturbing than what I was witness to during the 5k during Flying Pig weekend.
• Eating non-standard nutrition during a race. While Barry described the Taco Bell 50k, I then went on to relate my exploits with my friends Robert, Laura, and Jacque during my last Dopey Challenge marathon in 2023, inclusive of the 30-45 minute sit-down brunch at the Trattoria on the Boardwalk at around Mile 23 of the marathon.

As time marched on and temperatures continued to rise, bit by bit the members of my group fell off of the pace. Despite encouraging Barry to stick with me to the end with an offer of my beer ticket if he finished in front of me, he and the rear admiral wound up slowing a bit somewhere around Mile 16. (They both finished well, but about 6-7 minutes after me.) 

The first-timer was with me through about Mile 21 or so, but also faded off around the same time that I picked up another runner who had been in front of me but had slowed a bit from her prior pace. She stuck with me for the next several miles and broke in front of me, into the distance, when we had maybe 1 mile left to go. (Yes!) 

The tail end of the marathon meanders its way, in a stair-stepping fashion, past the back side of the Museum of the Albemarle (in front of which is the finish line), going further and further away, leading me to wonder where the heck is the final turn back towards the finish.

Finally, we make the penultimate turn, I see the Mile 26 sign about 3 blocks away, which marked the final right-hand turn into the final stretch.

Spot-on with my goal time, I finished in 4:09:38.

I gathered up the post-race food/drink and headed to the pacer table, to drop off the pacing stick, eat and drink, and get my sneakers off. I should have taken off the sneakers faster, as I had a blister on my big toe that ballooned enough that I would ultimately wind up driving home while still wearing my flip-flops, rather than putting on my dry pair of wool socks and other sneakers.

I eventually made my way to my car to drop off most of my stuff, and then continued on to the restaurant. Yet again, another crazy-busy restaurant. It was about 15-20 minutes before I was able to be seated, and they were mentioning to various patrons that they had run out of certain items on the menu.  By the time I ordered my lunch, I heard them saying that they were actually going to close up to new patrons pretty soon because so much was no longer available. It's a good thing that I didn't order the french fries to go with my burger, as they had even run out of potatoes.

By the time I finished lunch, there were about 30-45 minutes remaining in the race before the official cut-off time. I decided to walk back along the tail end of the route to cheer on the back-of-the-packers who were approaching the 26 Mile marker. While doing so, I chatted with one of the volunteers (who was helping to hold up cross-traffic whenever there were runners approaching, and then direct the cars appropriately, preventing them from turning onto the course) and with one of the other runners (who had joined the 4:00 pace group and was very happy with the job that Pacer Jeff did for the group).

Finally, the Sweeper Pacer Mike, along with two female runners, turned the corner, followed closely by the "wrap-up" vehicles marking the official end of the race. After they passed by and got the last of our cheers, I headed over to an ice cream shop to get some dessert before hitting the road back home.

On the way back to the car, I came across a memorial I hadn't seen previously:

Finally, after an exceedingly long five hours (for a four-hour drive, thanks to a couple of traffic snarls), I made it back home.

Not only does the medal open up to reveal a lighthouse, but there is a switch on the back that has the light blink fast, blink slow, or stay on solidly, before turning off.

                                            

Big MCM Announcement

For those who like to view announcements themselves, you can watch a recording of the livestream.

There were several announcements:

There is a new 8k race (on MCM weekend Saturday). The race course is not yet determined, but registration opened this morning. Both the 10k and 50k are no more, though they are looking into a standalone 50k at some point.

Yet again this year, they will have a field size of 40,000 for MCM. While I still think this bodes very poorly for several of the logistics (standard course bottlenecks made worse, and hideous overcrowding on Metro both pre- and post-race), the fact that they have expanded the expo to 4 days (from 2) should improve that experience, at least. And the venue has changed to the National Building Museum. I've not been there before, so I don't know how big it is compared to either the Gaylord hotel nor the previous expo space at the DC Armory.

For those who want their supporters to cheer them at the finish -- yet again, that's verboten. They'll need to be earlier on the course if you want them to cheer you on directly. There will be jumbotrons in the Finish Village broadcasting the finish line, though.

While there will be an MCM finisher's premium, they are not revealing it yet as to what it will be. It's a fair bet, though, that it will somehow tie in with the America 250 celebration. Quite possibly have the logo as part of it. Whether it's another poncho (dang, those were nice last year), blanket, or something else - no reasonable guess at this point. We'll all just need to wait and see the big reveal. (Maybe when they do the medal reveal that they've been doing as of late?)

Upcoming Forecasts

The weather has been going through some interesting twists and turns lately. A few days ago, it got into the 70s. The next couple of nights it will be dipping down towards freezing. So, what do I have in store for me (at least as of now) for the next couple of weekends' marathons?

Coast Guard Marathon:

Looks like a really nice day. Standing around before the race won't be all that bad. And while it will get a touch warmer than desirable during the marathon, it really won't be all that bad -- mid-60s -- since the high shouldn't be hit until a few hours after I finish.

Jersey City Marathon:

Nice. The conditions are almost identical. And my pace will be 20 minutes slower overall, so it should be really quite nice.

And, just for the heck of it, what do the runners in Boston have to look forward to the following day?

Fantastic. For Boston, you really can't ask for anything better than this. Sure, if you are outside and in the Runner's Village tent for multiple hours ahead of time, you'll need to make sure you've got your extra layers to keep warm. For those people that are on the charter buses (I did that for the first time last year), you're set! 

To everyone joining my pace groups, enjoy the conditions. And to those running Boston, revel in having one of those rare years where the conditions are as near-perfect as you can get. (Of course, that assumes these forecasts don't change umpteen times over the intervening days.)