Boston Marathon

I just got this update from Willowie Jen! She just ran her first Boston Marathon. 2 kids, and a high maintance husband ( kidding buddy ) and she tapped out a 3:35. We are all inspired in different ways from different things. This for me is one of them. In cycling I do it on a shoe string time budget and I am not the most talented guy, but I do work as hard as I can. This update goes to point out that goals can be met if we want them bad enough. It also goes to prove that the adversity of the situation is what makes it worth while. I said this in a previous update; she is not someone with a really athletic background, but obviously has some talent, but really, did the hard work that needs to come to meet goals. Rawlie on the other hand, well he is upset that he did not go under 3 hours. I feel for you my friend. Next time! That is the good thing about Rawlie, you know he has his calander out with a date checked off to go out and run a 2:55, it is the engineer in him.

Here is the update:

We just got back from Boston late last week and we had a great time. I wanted to share my experience with you. The “Coles” notes are that it was cold, rainy and I didn’t win (ha,ha). But it was awesome and if you would like to know more then read on……….




The lead up to the race was daunting. Nerves and a terrible weather forecast of cold, rainy and windy conditions. A storm was brewing on the East Coast and they were forecasting that it would hit on Marathon Monday. It was predicted that Eastern winds (in the face of the race participants) would gust up to 50 miles per hour and heavy rain was to fall all day.



I continued to be hopeful that it would not be as bad as they said. My plan was to dress as best as I could and keep my running goal intact. I was not going to let the weather conditions defeat me before the race had even started.





“When a lion is chasing an antelope, he doesn’t look back. He has to eat.”

Robert Cheruiyot, 2007, 2006 & 2003 Boston Marathon winner





Monday, April 16, 2007

Race Day……





We were up and out the door by 7:00 am. Pouring rain and gusting winds greeted us when we stepped out of our rented Brownstone. We had to walk about 12 blocks to get to Boston Common Park to catch the buses that take you to the Hopkinton Town start line. We were soaked within 5 minutes. It was horrible.



When we arrived at the park, the line-ups to load the buses were longer than the line-ups at Disneyland but not as much fun. We waited. And the rain kept coming down. In an attempt to stay dry, we put on our outrageously fashionable black garbage bags. And we waited. After an hour, we finally loaded on to the last caravan of buses. I was stressed and anxious to get to the start line.



The bus ride to Hopkinton was warm but long. The length of the ride made you realize that the start line was far AND that you had to run back into town. After 50 minutes, we finally got to the Athletes’ Village at Hopkinton School. It was still cold and pissing rain. The atmosphere was frenzied as the first wave of runners (10:00 am start) were frantically shedding clothes and making their way to the start line.



Like everyone else, I looked for some sort of refuge from the rain. I set up underneath a Genie haudralic lift machine; I sat down, tried to stay warm, shivered and waited. Unfortunately, I sat a little too long. When I realized that it was 10:20 am, I had missed the PA announcement for my seeding corral. I dropped off my bag and joined the masses that were congregating towards the start line. I did not realize that you had to walk at least ½ km from the school to the start line. I was worried I wasn’t going to make it to my corral (corral 16) before the start of the race.



The way to the start line was total carnage. Thousands of people filled every space and walked slowly up the street. Clothing was strewn about everywhere – garbage bags, wind breakers, old sweatshirts, mitts, toques, old running shoes (some of us were smart enough to think of bringing a dry pair of runners to change into just prior to the start of the race) and plastic bags – just randomly discarded. It looked like a garbage dump or a war zone. I trudged along with everyone else – with plastic garbage bags around my upper body and legs and plastic bags covering my runners. Until, I heard that the race was to start in 4 minutes and I was no where near the 16th Corral. At that point, I stripped off all my plastic and ducked in between the metal gates separating the road and the sidewalk. And, I started to run until I got to the my corral. Within seconds of arriving at Corral 16, the race gun went off and the announcer declared the start of the second wave of the race at 10:30 am. And just as the race began, the rain ceased. It still took about 15 minutes before I crossed the official start line and then I was off.



The first mile was insane. Runners everywhere. Barely any room to move other than slightly forward. Imagine rush hour traffic on the 401 but substitute people for cars. Multi-coloured runners flowed through the town and could be seen for miles ahead. It felt like the road was a conveyor belt of people. The mass of runners created barriers to passing. I tried my best to pass but it seemed pointless. The first mile went by so fast but it was slow. I checked my watch and I had done a 8:34 mile when I needed a 7:57 (given the downward slope). I quickly started to doubt my chances of achieving my goal of 3 hours and 35 minutes.



With the positive change in the weather conditions, I quickly became overheated. I then started my wardrobe adjustments - while still continuing to run. So, I undid 2 of the pins of my number bib so that I could unzip my jacket. I then placed my jacket around my waist. Then off came my fleece-lined running hoody and tied it around my waist. I then undid my jacket from my waist and got the bib number off of it. With the bib number clenched in my teeth, I re-tied the jacket around my waist. Then, I re-pinned my number to my short-sleeved running shirt – All of this while still running. I really could have used some Velcro clothing! Somehow I recorded a 2nd mile pace of 8:21. But this was still slower than the 8:06 that I needed and I was now almost a minute behind my goal.



In mile 3, I managed to gain some time back. And, finally by mile 4 there was a bit more room on the road. While there were still hundreds of runners, it was more manageable and a little easier to get around the people ahead of me. I started to settle into my pace and put down consecutive miles that were faster than my required pace. All the while, I weaved in and out of runners – passing what seemed like thousands of people.



A race inside of the race were the Aid Stations. To prevent collisions, water and Gatorade were available immediately after each mile marker and on both sides of the road. But it didn’t matter; the Aid Stations were total chaos and required a whole other set of survival skills. I should have chosen a side and hit the same side at each mile but I wasn’t that swift. I zig-zagged all day.



Miles 5 – 7 were all about making up time and I picked away at my time deficit. At around mile 7, the wind started to gust and it began to rain. On came my beloved hoody again. But this time, I didn’t have the patience to mess around with my number bib.



I lost a bit of time at mile 8 where I had to jump into the bushes and take care of my bladder. Some runners have no shame – I am one of them. Back on the road, I wheeled my time back in and I continued to pass people. I was feeling pretty good. At mile 12, I hit Wellesley College where the "scream tunnel" of raving female college students could be heard for blocks. From a distance it sounded like the thunder of Niagara Falls. Signs like "kiss a girl/boy" may have tempted a few runners to slow down, but for the most part everybody smiled, high fived and kept moving on. Because of the weather, the notorious Boston crowds were probably half the size of other years. But, the girls at Wellesley lived up to their reputation. They were awesome. Just after Wellesley, at mile 13, I had gained back all of my lost time. I was back on track and feeling amazing. After the ½ way point, my mile splits became insanely consistent - 8:03, 8:06, 8:05, - and I passed a tonne of people. But the steepest of hills was yet to come.



Mile 20...the dreaded Heartbreak Hill. It’s one of those hills that creeps up slowly and never allows you to see the top until you've been working at it for over a mile. I had heard lots about it and I was scared of it. So, when I hit the hill, I put my head down and tried not to look ahead. Two feet in front was all I needed to focus on. Half way up the hill, a young male runner passed me holding a good clip. So, I tagged on to him and let him help me up the hill. I imagined that there was a rope connecting us at the waist and pretended that he was pulling me up the hill. In my head I thanked him. I worked hard at Heartbreak Hill (and all the Newton hills) but they were less crippling than I had expected. I did however, lose more time on the hills than I should have- putting my time goal in jeopardy. But, I was still pacing to achieve a PR (personal record). And that felt good.


The last six miles cruised by like a dream. My visual memory is a blur but I can clearly remember hearing the crowds cheering as I approached downtown Boston towards the Finish Line. By Mile 24, I was anxious to be done but I still plugged away holding my mile splits. When I rounded the last corner I felt amazement and pain. The spectacular Finish Line stood proud but it was still ½ km away. I tried to surge down the straightaway but I mostly held steady and listened to the crowds. I happily crossed the finish line at 3:36:16. A PR and a 2008 Boston Qualifying time! One minute slower than my goal but I was still thrilled.





Boston was an amazing experience and I am glad that I had the opportunity to participate. A big thank you to my Coach - “Coach Ryan” for spoon-feeding me my work-outs and for his endless patience and support. Also, a big thanks to the Super Nanny: Grandma June and her support crew for looking after the little bears so that Mamma & Pappa Bear could run Boston!



Cheers,

Jen