Boston Marathon, part 3 (epilogue)

Finally having crossed the finish line, as always I griped at the people who dead stop in the middle of the way where I need to keep forward movement. Similarly, people who crowd around the very first volunteer who is handing out whatever (medals, heat sheets, food/drink) rather than moving on down the line to subsequent volunteers handing them out -- keep moving people! And get out of the way!

Getting the heat sheets was really tricky. While they always do a good job of affixing some tape so it stays around you, the wind at this time was SO strong that they were flying in everyone's face. Eventually, I just wound up taking it off and shoving it into my gear check bag; after all, it was quite warm, so I didn't really need it.

Thankfully, I had checked my flip-flops. So, I found a good space out of the way where I could put my bags down and do the swap of my sneakers and socks for flip-flops. Oh, that felt SO good. I was worried about what felt like major blisters during the race, but it turned out that such was not the case. Possibly only because I got my sneakers off so quickly.

After maybe 20-30 minutes total of doing the needful post-race, I made my way...  slowly... down the stairs into the T. Cruel, Boston, cruel.

Finally, the T arrived, I made my way up the stairs and was next to a red wave runner who was looking like he was still in a lot of distress. I offered up the bottle of Gatorade that I had from the expo (since I hadn't needed it after finishing), and that seemed to help a fair bit. Transferred to the Red Line, it was CHAOS in the station because there were still people streaming in from the Red Sox game, in addition to the large number of marathoners and accompanying spectators. Mercifully, when I got on, there was someone leaving who had vacated the corner seat of the car, which I was able to sit in. It enabled me to eat and drink a little more (though, technically, I shouldn't have been consuming anything, at least beyond water); I couldn't have attempted it were I standing up and holding on.

Part way back, I remembered that I had wanted to get my medal engraved after the race, because I had no desire to be up early enough to make sure I was on line for multiple hours at Marathon Sports prior to the start of their medal engraving on Tuesday morning. Thankfully, after I got back, soaked in the tub for a bit, showered, and changed, it was early enough to give a shot at going back in.

As if the city was saying something to me, when I made my transfer to the green line for the last leg of this trip, I was greeted by a specially wrapped T:

I arrived at Dick's Sports at about 6:15pm. After I got on the line, several of us recent arrivals to the line were advised that we weren't guaranteed to have our medals engraved. It all depended on how fast the line ahead of us went compared to the 7pm cut-off. There weren't that many people in front of us, so I managed to get my medal finished by 6:45pm. While I was able to have a little extra added to my name (JARED LEVINE / DUNKIN'), the time I gave them was the wrong one. (!) I gave them my gun time (4:18:11) as opposed to my chip time (4:14:40). Oh well.

Since I made it back in, I made my way to Summer Shack a couple of blocks away, where I have had post-race dinner a few times before. It is a VERY loud place, but fun, and has some tasty seafood. This time, I entered just behind a couple of other people wearing their medals. The three of us were greeted by HUGE cheers and a bell being run at the bar -- they totally made us feel like celebrities. Always heartening.

Tuesday brought the lunch that I would really like to have immediately after finishing, but they're closed on Mondays. :-(

Having nothing set on my agenda for touring about for up to 3 hours, I made my way back to the hotel to get my bags and simply went to the airport. I was not looking forward to the return trip, since I had a late flight with a connection in Newark - ultimately landing me back after 11pm. I went to the gate and asked about getting one of the earlier flights. They were able to get me onto a flight that was set to leave only 15 minutes after my original, but direct. So I got back about 2 hours earlier than I otherwise would have, and didn't even need to pay a change fee, since I freed up a seat they otherwise could use for a standby on my original flight. Bonus!

Hopefully I'll see you again next year, Boston. I've got to get a better time to feel more comfortable about my odds getting in, though. Fingers crossed!

Boston Marathon, part 2 (Race Day, a.k.a., Call Me Dunkin')

One of the great things about starting in Wave 2 is the fact that I can get up at approximately the same time I do during the week -- so I'm not shorting myself an extra hour (or more) of sleep. Assuming, of course, that I can manage to get any sleep in the first place. This year, I think I did a decent job of getting sleep ahead of the race.

Out the door early enough for the 10-minute walk to the T station to catch the first train of the morning.

After finally arriving at Boston Common, I re-entered the park to take photos of the Make Way for Ducklings statues that I couldn't get a clean shot of on Sunday. (There was always at least 1 or 2 kids climbing on the big duck, and others not leaving the baby chicks alone. I knew that sunrise on Marathon Monday would be my best chance.)

The entry to the park was beautiful on this cool, crisp, bright morning. In the distance, you can see many of the buses lined up for the runners to board to get to Hopkinton. And a cute little squirrel decided to take some respite on one of the park benches.

Around the top side of the park from where I entered, I finally made it back to Make Way for Ducklings.

Next stop: drop off my gear check bag (containing some food/drink for after the race, and flip-flops to put on), but first, I had to cross the outgoing stream of buses.

And then, off to pick up my race day nutrition. While I usually have four sleeves of Clif ShotBloks (eating one cube per mile), this time I decided that I would take advantage of what became a theme during the run.

The night before, I had been tagged with the precise locations of the Dunkin's on course. (I didn't have mile markers associated with them previously.)

Right across the street from Boston Common (and slightly up the hill compared to where bus loading happens) is this hidden Dunkin' Donuts. Well, having looked up the nutritional value of munchkins and compared that to my ShotBloks, I planned on having one munchkin before the start, and then one every 3 miles thereafter. I bought 10 (though they gave me 11), split evenly between chocolate and plain glazed -- gotta have some variety in flavor palette. While I had asked for a box to put them in, as I only had 10, they would only give me a bag. OK, fine.

Shortly thereafter, they opened up the floodgates for the Wave 2 runners to board the buses. For those that think they need it, though, they are well-warned about their last chance to go to the bathroom before getting to Hopkinton.

An hour drive later, we finally got dropped off at the runner's village. I had one quick stop that I had planned to make, though, before milling about the village.

En route, there was rather an unexpected traffic sign:

A few minutes later, I was out in front of the arts center down the block from the high school, where there is a statue of Bobbi Gibb (the first woman to ever run the Boston Marathon, before they were officially allowed to enter) -- that she, herself, had sculpted.

Back to Athletes' Village. Interesting addition were a couple of large swaths of what appeared to be solar panels for the schools, which would make some decent shelters from the rain, had there been any.

Some of the large tents and several thousand runners milling about, stretching, laying down, doing whatever pre-race.

The most iconic sign, though, which is usually moved to this area from its usual spot in town:

Soon enough, though, it was time for Wave 2 to head on up and get on the way to the starting corrals. Somehow the hour+ from when the bus dropped us off to this moment flew by.

One of the many houses on the .7 mile walk down to Main St. to get to the corrals.

This was one of the houses that was all decked out with raucous residents cheering us all on, wishing us a great race. Great energy boosting everyone's morale even more.

I had looked up where the Starter Statue and the Doughboy Statue were near the start line, and attempted to get there. On the way there was this banner on the church.

Unfortunately, given the way everything was set up, I couldn't get far enough up and around to be able to get to those statues. So, back down the hill I went to get into Corral 5 to wait for the start.

And, in short order, we were off!

In a short time after the initial fast downhill, we would have the first of many times hearing this familiar, inspiring tune.

Immediately after the first mile is the actual Spirit of the Marathon statue, which I had never noticed before. (Usually I'm more on the center/right side of the course, and this is on the left side of the runners.)

This was a perfect sign to see early in the race. Unbeknownst to anyone else yet, I had my bag o' munchkins.

Even though it was a bit earlier than planned, I had to take the opportunity for a photo getting and eating a munchkin with this sign. These ladies were cracking up with the fact that I had munchkins with me.

Unfortunately, I never saw Spencer while he was alive and cheering on the runners in his own way holding a Boston Strong flag in his mouth. Thankfully, I knew precisely where this statue was located, and barely recognized that I was passing the intersection, and I stopped and turned around to locate him.

I frequently see this sentiment on handwritten signs along marathon courses, but for some reason, this way it meant more to me.

Along the way, I made sure that more often than not, I was on the far side of the road, so I could high-five as many people as possible. It's amazing how much of a thrill it seems to be for little kids to get a high-five from someone running the marathon. Too often when I'm running for time, I can't do that, because it takes me off of the tangent line (shortest route possible). I wasn't caring about time on this day.

A bit up the road from here was a little kid who was holding out his hand for a high-five, so I obliged, putting my hand down at the right level. But rather than keep still for contact, he took a huge, excited swing. Whiff! He totally missed my hand. It was early enough, I was feeling great, and had enough presence of mind to immediately make a sharp turn, run back around him on the sidewalk to try it one more time. This time, contact! He was loving it. I had a huge smile and kept on running, and a guy sitting a little further down from there gave me a big thumb's up "That's the way to do it! Well done."

Shortly after entering Ashland, I came to the first Dunkin' on course.

Not long after I got back on the course, though, I noticed that the bag I had with all of the donuts was starting to break up on me. I needed to get a box to put them in -- something a bit sturdier. And the bottle of water I was carrying, too, since it was jostling about way too much in the belt. Lucky me, I knew exactly where I could get it.

So, while I was relatively inconspicuous with the munchkins during the first 4 miles, given I was carrying them in a relatively tightly rolled up bag (in which several people thought I was carrying a sandwich), I was now quite obviously carrying munchkins (though no one knew there was also a water bottle inside). This got LOTS of laughter, questions ("Does he have munchkins with him?"), cheers ("You're MY kind of runner" and "Go Dunkin'!"), and an ever-increasing number of people quoting the slogan ("America runs on Dunkin'!" or slightly changing it "Hey, he is actually running on Dunkin'!"). Each of these brought a smile to my face.

Dunkin' #3

Somehow I never saw the official 7-mile marker, but did manage to see the 7-mile smile sign.

Santa is one of the regular fixtures on the course. Love the fact that he comes down from the North Pole to cheer on the runners every year, though you would think he would wear something a little cooler on days that were as warm as the marathon was for us this year.

                                                              

By this point, I realized I had made a mistake with the way that I was running with the box -- too often I didn't support it on the bottom, so it was breaking open on the bottom. Time to get a new box at Dunkin' #4. And the lady behind the counter wound up giving me a box of 50. This time, I knew what I was doing. I held the phone in my hand as a supporting base for the box. The only time I would hold it by the handle is when I had to maneuver the phone to take a photo standing still.

But now I was VERY conspicuous with the box. Even more people were cheering for "Munchkin Man" and "Dunkin'"

Even though I'm not a coffee drinker, how could I possibly resist taking a photo with Dunkin' Coffee on the course outside of Dunkin' #5?

It wasn't far, now, until the not-so-gradually increasing roar of the Scream Tunnel would hit. The ladies of Wellesley never disappoint in bringing the energy to the course.

If you listen carefully enough, you'll hear several of them calling out to Duncan. No -- to Dunkin' -- as I pass them with my munchkins. Few people seems to be more excited about Dunkin' Donuts than college-age kids.

Surprisingly through the half-way point in under 2 hours, given all the stops, it only briefly crossed my mind as to whether I would manage to finish in under 4 hours.

Hey, Big Bird! You're a bit far away from Sesame Street. And where did you lose your feet?

Dunkin' #6, just before entering Newton.

Upon making the turn at the Newton Firehouse, the hills start in earnest. Unfortunately, I never saw the "The Hills Start Now" sign that was supposedly somewhere after Mile 16.

This guy had handed out most of his dozen doughnuts. No, I didn't take one -- I had my own munchkins still to get through. 

Shortly after Mile 19, I actually saw a friend on the side of the course - it was unclear ahead of time if she'd manage the timing. I later found out that her mom was out at about Mile 8 and that she saw me, but I hadn't noticed her when I passed. (I might have been hearing more cheers of "Dunkin'" at the time and not heard her saying my actual name. 

Unfortunately, I totally forgot about the Young at Heart statue that is on the left side just after Mile 19. Totally possible it was obscured by the crowds.

Great sign put out by the Heartbreak Hill Running Company each year.

And this spectator's sign after Mile 20 was too perfect not to capture. We still had about 1.5 miles left of these hills.

This particular banner is slightly deceptive, as there's still a little bit more of the hills afterwards. Not much, but still.

With this in sight, NOW is when we are at the top of the last hill in Newton, as signified by the inflated arch.

And, boy, if I thought the Dunkin' cheers were loud earlier, once I hit Boston College and later with all the frat guys out on the sides, they were AMPED to see me running with the munchkins. The only thing which would have gotten them even louder is if I were drinking a beer on course.

In the far distance, I caught my initial glimpse of the iconic Citgo sign. It kinda felt like a scene from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, but shot from the POV of the charging knight instead.

Alas, I never saw the Boston Line sign that is on a street post just before Mile 25. The best I could get was this vertical banner, blowing a fair bit in the wind.

It still seemed like it would be forever before I reached that blasted sign..

And then, all of a sudden, I was directly next to it.

Alas, this next photo makes it apparent that something went awry earlier. Alas, the Band-Aids that I had placed on before the race had been loosened enough by all of the water that I was dumping on myself, and then potentially rubbed off by one of the many times I wound up hitting my chest with the box of munchkins as I ran. The "streak of shame" is quite apparent. Mercifully, it wasn't as painful afterwards as is frequently the case for those who aren't careful enough to prevent it.

I didn't expect that I would wind up seeing any more Dunkin's on the course, but there was one last one that could reasonably be in a photo. But at this point in the course, there are barricades up, so I had to position for a selfie, rather than have a spectator take the photo.

One of the big course-end landmarks. Once we crossed under that Boston Strong sign, we went down a hill, and gradually climbed one last small hill (though painful, at that point)...

before we got to the iconic (mythic?)...

Right on Hereford...

Left on Boylston...

And then straight on down for a little more than 1/4 mile.

Finally, I have a photo of my doffing my hat at the memorial. Always a touching moment passing by.

And here we were, entering the final meters of the race.

Later that evening, I found out that this image was one of 26 from the race that was on the Boston.com website, courtesy of a Boston Globe photographer.

Final stats:

Finished in 4:14:40

18,308 overall (out of 25,537 finishers)

11,098 male (out of 14,581 finishers)

1,480 in age group (out of 1,937 finishers)

Total moving time: 4:02:46 (according to my Garmin)

Extra mileage run: 0.55 miles (according to my Garmin)