Law of Inertia

After finishing peeing, I jumped back into the race full of nerves and a bit of fear. I kept thinking to myself, I’m not ready to run a marathon. Not that I felt I wasn’t trained for one, but in my current condition, I felt I should not be running. I also remember my thighs having a strange feeling of fatigue just starting out. I thought this early in the race it’s a bad sign for sure. I decided my strategy was to find a comfortable pace that I could maintain the whole way. My only goal was to not drop out and to not be forced to struggle by run/walking it in.

Mile 1 : 7:31
I remember the first mile being pretty steep downhill. I reminded myself to just take it easy. Nonetheless, I know I ran it faster than I should have. Including the 30 seconds or so for the pit stop, I hit the first mile marker in 7:31

Mile 2 : 7:06
Mile 3 : 7:10
Mile 4 : 7:08
I see these splits and I’m somewhat surprised I’m moving this fast, but I also believe I’m putting too much effort in too early on. I think to myself I should find someone to latch on to since I’ve been passing people with lower bid numbers than mine. I also begin to think there’s a chance I might actually have a good run today. I’m still not thinking race yet.

Mile 5 : 7:20
I ask a guy with a bib in the lower 5000′s (I was 7073) what his target pace was. I forget the answer, but I remember it was a faster pace than I wanted, yet, my current pace was taking me past him. I explained I was afraid I’m hitting this too hard too early on and asked if I could run with him a bit. He agrees.

I question him a few times as to whether or not we were actually doing our target pace and if we were going too slow. He claimed we were going up hill. I thought it was flat, maybe a slight incline, but ok. I decided he was wiser than I, so I stuck with him forcing myself to slow it down. After we hit mile 5 I see its significantly slower at 7:20. That was average for the whole mile and I figure we were doing a 7:40 pace for the time we were together. I lose him because he’s slowing down even more.

Mile 6 : 7:07
I remember a nice flat wide open street. My memory is still very foggy but I’m fairly certain there were train tracks running parallel to the left of the course. I remember the sun coming out and thinking I’m not going to last. Each time I take water it reminds me how bad my throat hurts. Swallowing is an effort since my throat is swollen and sore. At mile 6, or around the 10K mark, I take my first gel which is a coffee flavored Hammer Gel. It winds up being a mess and getting all over my hands. I usually take coffee flavored Gus and find them the easiest to get down in one gulp and avoid it having to mix around in my mouth.

As I take the Hammer Gel, I have a lot of trouble opening it, and never get the top completely off. I try and suck some of it out through the tiny opening. I try again, in vain, to pull the top off, but the bit of gel and spit on the top just made my fingers slip. Biting doesn’t work either since it slips through my teeth. I suck on it some more and throw it hard on the ground in frustration since its disrupting my rhythm and breathing. I considered opening one of the other two I have, but I decide it would be better to save them.

From here on through the middle of the race. I can’t remember the order of things or at what mile anything occurred. I mostly just phase out and try to focus on my ipod and ignore the way I feel. The sun kept coming in and out, and each time it comes out I suffer. Whenever it goes back in, it turns a bit chilly with the wind blowing, and this is a big relief and I feel absolutely great.

I remember all the water stops throughout the race and thinking, oh no, another one already? Probably a good thing considering it meant the miles were going by quicker than I realized. But, they felt more like a burden because forcing to get the water down hurt my throat. Each time I was also thrown out of my groove because of the amount of runners who did not know how to properly get water. Often, someone would shoot over from the left, grab water, and practically stop in front of me to drink it before I was able to grab my own cup. The fact that the water stops weren’t nearly as long as what New York only exacerbated the problem.

Mile 7: 7:05
Mile 8: 7:13
Mile 9: 7:03
Mile 10: 6:59
Mile 11: 7:02
Mile 12: 7:05
Somewhere in these splits, I run through a town, and a guy with a loudspeaker situated in front of a business establishment is doing a lot of talking, cheering, and maybe some advertisement. I hear him shout to the runners, “as you pass by, take a look at yourselves in the window (reflection), you look great!!” I take his advice, turn my head to the right and look. I think to myself, “my god, that’s what I look like?” I don’t think I move or look like a runner. I think my body type is all wrong compared to those around me. I look heavy, and feel heavy. My clothes are too tight, my ass is too fat, and my head is too big and too shiny.

Mile 13: 7:08
Mile 14: 7:06
I take my second gel shortly after the half marathon mark and I’m scared I will choke on it because of my swollen throat. It instead slides down without incident. I double the time on my Garmin and see I’m set up for a 3:08. I worry if I’m screwing this up royally. I wonder at what point will the time come where I’m reduced to walking.

Within these two splits is Wellesley College. I take off my headphones about a mile early to see if I hear the screaming. I hear lots of screaming, but it’s not clear where its coming from, whether it be the spectators or from what lies ahead of us. Eventually, we pass the college girls and the place called the “scream tunnel“, and I’m surprised to see there is absolutely no tunnel to run through. I thought there would at least be an overpass we would be running under.

I take a look at all the girls and I’m surprised how young they look, which makes me feel old. They’re all lined up and have big smiles and are holding signs above their heads encouraging runners to stop for kisses. I veer over to the left a bit. But, not far enough that I couldn’t see their faces well.

I’ve heard stories they reach out and grabbed runners to kiss. I make eye contact with a few as I pass and the smile on one of them very much tempts me to stop. But, even on a good day, I wouldn’t have done so. When I think of all the other runners they’re kissing, I see this sort of thing like kissing a petri dish full of the herpes simplex 1 virus. Then, combined with the fact I would give her my strep throat, and in turn, to every other runner she entices that comes after me, I decide to shoot her a corny wink instead.

I only see two runners who pull to the side. They looked like they were trying hard to get something from one or more of the girls they were talking to, but I dont witness any kissing. More like asking for kissing maybe.

Then comes a nice hill and I pass this runner wearing some sort of wings.

Eventually, I get to a long flat long decline, thinking the newton hills are coming and I feel like utter crap. I’m not ready for them. I think to myself, “I’ve failed miserably in my goal of keeping the pace easy.” I think to myself I’m going have to walk when I hit these hills and it’s too late to change anything. My throat is still hurting.

Mile 15: 7:17
Mile 16: 7:12
As I’m getting over the first hill I think to myself it’s not that bad.Thoughts of the Rockies go through my head. Getting up this first hill gives me a very familiar feeling like climbing up the hills in Rockwood Hall, but no where near as intense.

On the downhill, I see a platoon of army guys bouncing as they “jogged” in formation. Each of them have their left hand on the shoulder of the guy in front of them. Throughout the course I sporadically passed a lot these guys, but this is the first time I see so many together and doing something different from hiking. They don’t seem to move fast, but they’re carrying a load of gear. They do look pretty cool and I’m a bit impressed. As they pass the spectators, the cheers got louder.

Mile 17: 7:23
Mile 18: 7:25
Mile 19: 7:22
I don’t remember any of hills in any order and everything is a blur. I come to another hill and I see it curve around to left with no clue of how high it goes. I put my head down looked about 7 steps ahead of me on the ground and just focused on my form and feeling. I was doing quite a bit of passing still. I come to a group of three runners running side by side. I’m tired, miserable, and ticked they’re forming a wall that I now need to go around. Why do I have to now add more effort to this? Without giving any warning, I push through two of them… maybe harder than I should have.. Well, it’s not like they could do anything about it. They’re in no position to chase me down or anything. I leave them in the dust. At this point, I’m thinking I still feel pretty good considering.

Mile 20: 7:28
Mile 21: 7:47
I come to another hill and start going up. I think to myself, I better slow this down because I am now starting to feel the effort, and perhaps I shouldn’t be passing so many people afterall. It’s now somewhere after mile 20 and the thought of running up hills like this until mile 22 will finish me. I slow it down a bit and get to the top of the hill. Mile 21. I see a sign saying something about heartbreak hill. I lose count of the hills. Did I do three or four hills? I could have sworn the end of heartbreak hill was mile 22. I shout to my left, “was that it?”. No one answers me. I shout again, “was that the last hill?”. One guy turns to me looking very tired and replies “yeah”

I look at my Garmin. The distance is reporting longer than mile 21 so I’m not sure what my exact overall pace is, but I figure I might actually PR this thing since its way under 7:26. I just need to maintain my pace until the end.

Mile 22: 7:09
Then I go running downhill to Mile 22.

I pass the graveyard which was mentioned in the film at the expo the day prior. There are hills along the way and I welcome them because running downhill hurts. I’m reminded of the downhills towards the end of the NYC marathon. Uphill is now easier than down. I can lean into up and move the effort to a different part of my thighs. Going down I can’t accommodate anything. I see some people passing out popsicle sticks near a gas station and I wonder if its something to eat. I soon realize it’s vaseline.

Mile 23: 7:16
Mile 24: 7:17
I look at my watch and I think I’m going to finish under 3:15. I keep thinking to myself I cant believe this is going to happen.

But, things are becoming harder. Its more downhill than anything else. I’m exhausted. We run along some straight flat roads at some point. There are a bunch of idiot bandits on the course. Not bandits who are runners, but idiots who decide to run along with the crowd for thrills. They don’t know how to run and they take up a lot of room and are slow. The fatigue, and exhaustion, and pain of everything is making me extremely irritable and I hate everyone at the moment. I want to get done. I don’t need these jackasses in my way ruining this for me. I see a guy on the right side of the road walking. Just as I pass him, I hear some asshole spectator, who is drinking beer with his buddies on the curb, says something to him in a tone that is far from encouraging, but rather mocking. “C’mon on now Phil, that’s not the way to do it.”

Off in the distance I see the Citgo sign and it feel it’s too far away. I’m hoping to hold it together. It would be awesome to PR.

Mile 25: 7:22
Mile 26: 7:36
Before hitting the Citgo sign there’s an overpass of some sort. It’s a hill. It’s too steep. This type of up does not feel better than down. It’s not even that high, just feels steep. I slow down. I think to myself, I’m way under my PR. I can afford to slow it a little. My goal was just to finish anyway. I come very close to changing my gait. I consider walking just over the hill. I then think to myself, if I walk, it’ll be harder to start again and I’m only a mile a way. But it feels like a far mile. Before changing my gait, I pick it back up and get over it.

I pass Hotel Commonwealth where I’m staying and I do not see my wife. I’m disappointed.

We go under an overpass and then come back up. Please let this be the last incline. I regret slowing down like I did earlier and now I don’t dare go any faster than what I’m currently holding. In retrospect I regret not pushing harder here. I see 3:06 on my garmin. I know I’m not far but I don’t know how far.

I come out from under the overpass. I turn right, I turn left, I go up a hill and before I turn left again I hear my named being screamed several times under the roar of the crowd. It’s coming from voices that do not belong to my wife. No one I can think of could be a spectator knowing I’m running this. I dismiss it and convinced I’m hearing things. Then I turn my head quickly to the left and just see a mess of people. I wouldnt be able to pick any familiar faces out of the packed crowd so I turn back. I later learn my wife is to the right with a crowd of people who she has become friendly with while waiting for me.

I get up the hill and turn left. The finish still feels a long way off.

Official Time : 3:10:45

3:10 and change. Pffft. How’d I do that? I immediately push out any negative thoughts of what I could have done on a different day. I got a pretty respectable PR on a day I didn’t think I could even run. A significant improvement from NY no matter how you look at it. I have more left in the tank than I did in NY. When I finished NY last November, I questioned if I would ever be able to do 3:15 again. But this time, I feel stronger and I’m able to quickly go through the crowd. I get my medal. Get a heat blanket. Get some food. I’m nauseous, but I force myself to drink.

I get to the bus and get my bag. I’m fearful of whats to come later so I quickly dig out the Tylenol and take two. My throat is very swollen but doesn’t hurt as much. I call my wife. We meet.

She says I did great, and I reply, “you have no idea.”

This is my pre-race report because all of it takes place before the race. My race report will be my next post.

If you saw my last post (dns?), you already know I considered not even going to the start. Against my better judgement, and to the encouragement of my wife who said I should just jog it in, I wound up getting to the start and taking a 4 minute PR from Boston. The race itself is mostly a blur right now. Hopefully the details will come to me as I get to writing the actual race report. Meanwhile, this is what’s predominately in my head at the moment.

If you read my blog on any regular basis, you might already be aware that I’ve been put on antibiotics 3 times this year for strep throat. January, February, and April two weeks before Boston. The crazy thing is, I don’t ever get sick otherwise. I don’t remember the last time I had a cold, flu, or any type of virus. I’ll be making an appointment with a real doctor soon to discuss this, because I’m certain, as I write this, I do have strep throat for a fourth time. However, I managed to get my hands on an antibiotic until I get home from Boston.

I arrived in Boston on Sunday, which is about a three hour and fifteen minute drive from my home. Coincidentally, it’s also close to the amount of time I spent running in the New York marathon which got me qualified to do Boston. The day going up, I kept feeling something in my throat, and the possibility of relapsing kept lingering in my mind, but I would quickly dismiss it because I just got OFF the antibiotic about 9 days prior.

After checking in and getting settled at the hotel, the wife and I walked over to the convention which is less than a mile away. It was good to see Boston, and there was a real sense of atmosphere there. I’ve been to Boston quite a bit 10 years ago and always liked the city and people. But, it was clear things were really hopping in anticipation of the marathon, or red sox game, or both. The streets were quite packed with people and there was just a good mood in the air. There are not enough good things I can say about this town.

My plan was to pick up my bib, see a few things that might catch my interest, and head back to the hotel to take it easy. I figured I might buy a jacket; which I wound up buying two. I decided one I would actually wear, and one I just wanted to own. Lame perhaps, but it’s my money to waste the way I see fit. Somehow, we wound up spending hours there, and I’m not even sure how. My wife, who wouldn’t run even if a gun was pointed at her, went off on her own and found quite a bit to keep her occupied. Later, she found me and was excited about a $35 wrist band being sold that had a magical effect of helping her maintain balance. She described a balance test the guy did and how the bracelet really helped her. She then asked if we could check it out together. I was immediately leery, but agreed to check it out, and even agreed we should purchase her one if it worked as advertised.

The guy did the simple test on me with my hands held out standing on one foot. Pushing down and at a 45 degree angle out on the arm held over the foot which was raised, he was able to easily knocked me over. It would knock anyone over unless you could magically defy the laws of physics and shift your center of gravity. But lo and behold, he placed a magic bracelet on my shoulder. It doesn’t even have to be on one’s wrist apparently, that’s how magical it is. Now, we repeat the same test. This time I could easily maintain my balance as he pushed straight down on my arm. I guess the magic bracelet prevented him from pushing at the same 45 degree angle out. In fact, I found it even easier to maintain my balance as he pressed straight down on my arm, and not because it gave me the effect of holding onto something, but because of the “frequencies” sent out by the magic bracelet.

The whole experience smelled like something out of a carnival scam and I was really disappointed to see such an element at a marathon expo. I turned to my wife, who reads me like a book. She gave me a confused look in return not understanding why I wasn’t convinced; afterall, she saw the same results. I try very hard not to be a confrontational guy in life, so I simply said nothing to any of them. Picked up our stuff, grabbed my wife, and showed her in private the same results by doing the magic test on her sans the bracelet.

As time went on, there was one distraction after another, and I noticed, I was starting to feel exhausted and my glands were getting swollen and my throat was hurting, but not in the back as usual, rather in the front. Discussed it with my wife and determined it might be allergies. Allergies can also cause swollen glands and a sore throat. The fact my nose was not stuffed bothered me because the lack of that symptom usually indicates strep, and you would expect that symptom to be present with allergies or a cold. Nonetheless, we decided we should be heading back since I needed to start resting for the race tomorrow. Then, on the way out, I noticed they were showing a film describing the Boston marathon course. I felt obligated to watch, so I stayed a little longer. I watched the camera going at an accelerated rate down the roads we were about to run the next day. Instead of getting a sense of excitement, and imagining myself running, which I usually do whenever I see an open field, or a nice inviting path, I began to feel ill and wanted to crawl into a bed. Not a good sign. I’m thinking with the way my throat feels, there’s no way I can do this. We promptly headed home, and I was quite worried.

As I arrived back at the hotel, I popped a tylenol and went to take a nap. I might have slept 90 minutes or so, and felt much better. I wasn’t sure if it was the tylenol or sleep, but I felt somewhat optimistic. We headed out to dinner, and the whole time I’m feeling my swollen glands and testing out how my throat felt whenever I swallowed a part of my meal. Things were better, but not 100%. I was wondering, if it was the tylenol that helped, does it mean its allergies, or a bug? I decided if I felt like this tomorrow, I can run but already decided this was not going to be a race. I reminded myself of what I decided previously. I adjusted my goals and decided, if I can, just fun run it, get my boston medal to cement reaching my goal in the ny marathon where I qualified, then it’ll have to be enough.

Back at the hotel, I actually fell asleep pretty fast around 10:30pm or so. But, then I woke up at 1:30am because of the pain in my throat. The rest of the night was torture. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t sleep because I debated in my head the whole night what I should do about the marathon. Feeling the way I did, which was more than just a sore throat, but now a general feeling of overall crapiness, I couldn’t imagine even doing a long training run. By morning, I was still awake. I had such a huge feeling of desperation at that point, it was then that I wrote the dns post from my blackberry. My wife at this point tells me I have nothing to lose by trying. Just listen to my body and drop out if I have to. I took a tylenol and agreed I can at least try. I turned on the tv and saw the weather forecast was very different from what they predicted days earlier. Mostly sunny with a high of 58 and current temps around 39. Now the dilemma of figuring out what to wear. Since I had no plans to run an intense pace, I wasn’t sure whether or not to ditch the long sleeved tee for a short sleeved one. I then realized if I’m not able to keep warm in a short sleeved shirt running this then it means I shouldn’t be running and it’ll be my que to drop out.

I made my way out of the hotel feeling horrible, asking myself, why am I even doing this? On the train, I started to think I might be feeling better and it seemed the tylenol might be kicking in. Getting to Boston Commons, there was a long ass line to get on the buses. There was plenty of excitement in the air, and I knew, had this been a different day, I would be feeling it too. My biggest concern was how long before an empty bus would come so that I can get on it. I was really starting to freeze my ass off, and shivering. Any other day I could block out the cold and deal even with shivering. But, with the way I felt, I was worried there would be no way I’d be able warm up. I wondered if I got back in bed at this point, if I would continue shivering like this under the covers.

On the bus, things were warmer. I thought about posts I read that gave advice on first timers doing Boston. I thought about the advice to make sure you pee BEFORE getting on the bus. I thought of how the advice was adamant about how the bus driver would not pull over if you asked him too. I remembered this because 5 minutes after we pulled out, we were stuck in traffic and I was beginning to feel the urge of having to go. Can I ever catch a break?

I spent the entire ride now focusing on the pain of holding it in rather than the feeling of being ill. I was getting chills and not sure if it’s from having to pee, from being sick, or both. I managed to hold it in until I saw the signs for Hopkinton, and I guess that mental magnet of the proximity of a bathroom increased the urge for me. It was still a few exits away and I stood up because the pain was getting bad. I looked around the bus which was packed and contemplated desperate measures like peeing in my empty gatorade bottle. There would be no way to do it without freaking out the whole bus and getting arrested. I walked up to the driver and said to him, “I have to piss really bad, do you have any suggestions for me?” He looked at me and said, “what do you want me to do? pull over?”. I said, “Could you please?” With that, he pulled off to the side of the road. I almost pissed right there on the spot, it was so bad. I turned around and saw everyone was very confused so I said, “sorry people, I’ll be quick”, figuring they would realize what I meant in a second. I ran out, and did my thing. I tried to be quick, but it felt like minutes to get done. It just kept coming out. I would have needed two gatorade bottles at least had I gone with my original plan.

I ran back on the bus and was greeted by a series of cheers and clapping. That really lifted my spirits and I held my hand up in a mixture of pseudo-triumph and gratitude for the applause. It’s the reactions like this that make me really love the running community that I’m a part of. Moments later, someone pointed out the window and said “look, there’s another one”, followed by laughter from the rest of the bus. Only this guy was not as lucky, because after he finished he started walking with his green baggage slung over his shoulder off the exit ramp of the highway, and it was still quite far from the exit where we were to get off. I can only imagine how his conversation went with the driver of his bus.

Arriving at the athlete’s village, things were COLD. I couldn’t tell if it was me, or the weather. I tried to find a place in the sun, to sit and managed to find some dry concrete on the outside of the highschool rather than on the wet field of grass where most of the crowd was waiting. I had a couple of bottles of water and kept sipping them because my throat was still dry and hurting. The drinking helped a bit. The longer I sat, the colder I became. I had a garbage bag with me incase I needed to lay it down to stay dry. I wound up punching a whole and fit my head through it instead. It helped keep me warm considerably. I continued to sit there until it was time to check our bags in. I noticed a lot of cops on bicycles patrolling the area. Some guy peeing in elephant grass soon had about 3 cops on bicycles and 1 on foot surrounding him, obviously giving him a stern lecture and pointing to the port-a-potties off in the distance.

At this point, I didnt have to pee.

Soon came time to get the bags on the buses. Things were so well-organized. Much better than the UPS trucks used by New York. The buses were lined in a row and every window on the bus had a bib number range posted on it going sequentially. Not only did you find your bus, but you found your row and there were plenty of kids on the bus to eagerly take your bag through the window. This proved to be a great system since finding the window which contained my baggage when I was done with the race was something that allowed me to get my stuff quicker than any other race.

As I was searching for my window along the buses I saw Frank and said hi. We spoke briefly and he asked if I found it unusually cold. I was so glad to hear him ask me that because I was still shivering with my 3 layers, plus jacket, plus my makeshift hefty bag robe. It was a bit of reassurance that I wasn’t more sensitive to the cold than I thought I should be if I was healthy.

Before I threw my bag through the bus window, I downed 3 liquid glucose shots. Swallowing them was a painful reminder of my sore throat. I then swallowed two more tylenols. Tucked 3 gels inside the lining of my shorts. Contemplated whether or not I wanted to keep (and then discard) the Nike running jacket I had on. It was just too cold without it, so finally, I decided to keep it on knowing I would be losing it. Yet, knowing it goes to charity made me feel it wasn’t being wasted at least. Besides, I just bought two new ones.

From there, I headed to the start with everyone else. It was a bit of a walk, down a steep decline. I wondered if the newton hills would be as steep as this decline. I turned around to look at it from the other way and said, holy crap I dont feel I can run up something like this. The whole time I’m wondering what the hell am I doing? I should be back resting. Why am I doing this? As I made my way, I realized I should pee once more. I saw someone else behind a dumpster near the woods and decided that would be a good place. Then I saw some cops slowly walking towards the guy and they actually gave him a hard time. The face on one of these little twerps was so confrontational I couldn’t believe it. He was aggressive as if he wanted a fight. Just so you know my perspective, my brother is a nyc cop, so I tend to be biased in favor of cops. This guy had the attitude of a bully. I walked away realizing this was no place to mark my territory and before I turned around I saw the cop pointing to the runner’s stomach, and the guy lifted his shirt to show his bib. From there, I don’t know what happened.

Finally, at the start, the sun was shining so things were warming up, but still had a bad chill in me. Nonetheless, huddled in the crowd after a while, I felt I could shed all the layers. I saw Mark from my old club also shedding his layers to be deposited in the same collection bag. I received a sincere greeting from him wishing me luck. I really felt I needed it too. I gladly gave the same to him in return. I could tell by his smile he was feeling good and ready for this. He went on to improve his PR by 75 seconds with a time of 3:15:54.

Soon, I began to feel the glucose, and perhaps the second dose of tylenol, and thought to myself, I’ll know whether or not I’ll be able to finish within minutes of starting. The fighter jets fly over head, and they were pretty awesome. The gun goes off, and we all begin walking uphill towards the start. As all of us realize we just unexpectantly walked over the starting mat (the start banner was further up), everyone started their watches and began running.

This is going to sound corny, but as I began running I promised myself, no matter what happens now, I’ll be proud of whatever I manage to accomplish (or fail to accomplish) here. Given the situation, there’s nothing more that I would have been able to do, and I have to learn to roll with the punches. I accepted the fact, none of this was foreseeable or in my control. So two minutes in and running, I still had to pee as did many others who were along the side of the course. I pulled over to pee as well. And, with that, I reaffirmed that I would not hold any importance to my time for this race. Just get myself to Boston the best way I can and stay healthy.