The race goes beautifully. Even the hills during the early part of the marathon are reasonably manageable. The crowds, as always, are out in force. What's truly unique about Boston compared to most other big city race is that outside of the 8 towns' "downtown" areas, there are lots of single-family homes. And the residents come out in force, standing or sitting in front of their homes cheering along all of these strangers. Some have signs. Many have water, orange slices, and other food or drink that they are handing out to any runner who wants to take them up on the offer of kindness.
We go through Hopkinton, Ashland, Framingham, Natick, and approach Wellesley. This is one of the most overwhelming parts of the course. From at least ½ mile away, you know you're nearing campus, because you can hear the loud roar of the co-eds. OH. MY. GOD. Are they always this loud? No, I think they're louder than normal. After all, they missed doing this last year.
Finally get to the edge of the Scream Tunnel, and the sound is deafening. My god, it's fabulous. Myself and at least one other runner who is a decent bit ahead of me give the rising-hands motion for them to be louder. And do they ever rise to the challenge. The adrenaline surges, huge smile on my face, I push even faster (still no pain - yes!), and finally reach the end of the Scream Tunnel. The sounds dissipates, but takes a while to really do so. Those of us within earshot of each other running along remark on just how great that stretch of the course was, and how loud they were.
With the 5th town behind me, the part of the course I (and most other runners) dread is fast approaching: Newton. Starting around Mile 16, the dreaded Newton Hills kick in. This is where we have about 4-5 miles worth of relatively long, rather steep uphills to contend with. I fully expect to have to walk, but we'll see.
The first hill I take with little problem, but right around Mile 17 I start feeling something. No not my feet (though that will happen shortly thereafter). No, this time my chest. No, I wasn't having any breathing or heart problems. I finally recognized that I forgot to put on my two Band-Aids this morning. Yep, I use Band-Aids for "nip tape", and totally forgot to put them on this morning while getting dressed. A quick check, and I haven't started bleeding yet. Phew. As I approach the med tent, all of the people there are very concerned: What's wrong? I quickly calm them down, alerting them that all I need are two Band-Aids to stop the chafing that is about to start in earnest.
My first-ever med tent pit stop out of the way, I get back into the flow of the runners. Shortly afterwards is when I begin noticing something with both feet. It feels like I'm getting blisters along the bottom of my feet. Oh, that's not good. And there's nothing that I can do to prevent it from happening. After all, my shoes and socks are both soaked through (given that I've been dousing myself with two cups of water at every single water stop in order to keep my core temperature cool), I don't have any way of drying them out nor have a change of either. Just keep pushing through and do whatever possible to minimize movement of my foot within the shoe.
While the 1st hill wasn't a problem. I wound up walking the entirety of the 2nd hill and about half of the last hill. I was highly disappointed that the arch of balloons that has previously marked the top of Heartbreak Hill wasn't there. Nor did I see the statue that I know is in the vicinity. So, I was never really sure that I had crested Heartbreak. After all, the hills aren't a simple up one side down the other. Several of them have small plateaus or minro dips in the middle before continuing up. So calling it four hills is actually somewhat deceptive.
I eventually see the change in the landscape (high-rises) and the signs marking Brookline. We're nearing the home stretch. Running through Boston College was very similar to Wellesley, though they aren't heard quite as far in advance and aren't as loud when you're in the thick of it. But there's still plenty of energy to be gained from them.
Then there's the icon peaking through the fall foliage (which is usually visible earlier and for a much longer period of time during the no-foliage days of early spring) -- the giant Citgo sign. That is a huge signal that you're getting close to the end. Whereas in the spring where it isn't blocked by the trees at all (since there are no leaves then) and it reminds me of the scene in Monty Python and the Holy Grail where a knight is fast approaching the castle, but never seems to move, until several cut-shots later he is finally on top of the guards, impaling each last person with his sword, this time around we pretty much played hide-and-seek with the sign, as it was frequently blocked by the leaves. Frankly, I preferred this time, because in the spring, it feels like it takes FOREVER to finally pass the sign and this time around, it wasn't ever-present, taunting my slow movement towards it.
Then we get to Boston proper. Mile 25. Then the "One Mile Left" sign. And before you know it, we're speeding down the last downhill under an overpass, make our way up the beginning of the last climb. Right on Hereford, Left of Boylston! (Anyone who runs Boston knows that mantra.) And it is a quarter mile dash, as fast as possible to finish the race. As before, I motion for more volume from the huge crowd on either side of the road. On the left, I see the first memorial for the 2013 marathon bombing. I instantly doff my hat and bow it to the memorial. Then again with the second memorial near Marathon Sports almost on top of the finish line. Seconds later, hat back on, hands in the air, I'm across the finish line! I made it! And with a time of 3:47:53! Holy $h!t! How the hell did THAT just happen with these feet?!
No comments:
Post a Comment