7 AM: I wake up in Acton and get semi-dressed. I find it uncomfortable to wear a race kit under many layers, so I wait to put on my singlet with my stiff race bib until right before I drop off my bag. ANYWAYS. I prepare my breakfast (water and a whole wheat english muffin with peanut butter) and eat slowly, methodically... I can hardly stomach just that small meal due to my nerves.
7:30 AM: Dad and I leave to pick up BRBE, and we're on our way to Hopkinton.
8:30 AM: After a slight detour, we arrive at the EMC building in Hopkinton, where BRBE and I catch the official runners shuttle to take us to the Athletes Village. I forget how long and slow the ride is to the village, and BRBE and I joke about anything and everything, trying to quell the nerves.
9:30 AM: The porta-potty lines seem longer this year. But we get through, only to find the toilet paper gone. Bugger. First we find BRBE's running club's bus, and then we find mine. Bags dropped, we start our walk to the starting corrals. Some runners are wearing garbage bags; some runners are jogging to the start; some groups are friends; some groups are team members.
9:45 AM: We reach the end of the street, where we separate. It's time for me to head to my corral (#5), and BRBE must wait for the first wave to start before she can make her way to her corral for her Wave 2 start. I walk up the hill to find my corral (and I've always found it funny that the starting corrals are on a hill) and find corral 5 somewhat empty.
9:55(ish) AM: While awaiting the start, a tall guy next to me makes conversation. He mentions he's from Illinois (I think), that this is his second marathon, and he's hoping to break three hours. He also says that he's done zero hill training. He's also hoping to even split. side note... aren't we all? :) He asks me if this is my first Boston (no, it's my fourth), and I relay that I'm a local, from Boston. He is surprised that I don't have the accent. I can see the girl behind us giggling, presumably because she knows not everyone from Boston or the area have the accent. I tell the guy to enjoy the race, take in the spectators, the crowds, enjoy the moment. I tell him proudly that it's the best experience.
10 AM: It feels like it takes longer this year to reach the actual start line with the timing chips, but once we do get there, we're off and running. I also forgot how impressive the crowds are in the first half-mile... they flank either side, deep into the woods and front yards, full of happiness and excitement. Kids are on shoulders, holding signs... college-aged kids and young professionals alike are holding red solo cups, even though it's only 10 o'clock in the morning... speakers blare with the Rocky theme song and patriotic songs alike. The first half-mile is exhilarating, and it's hard to hold back, hard to keep your legs from churning.
Miles 1-5: 7:09, 6:56, 7:01(official 5k split 21:53), 6:57, 7:04
The first five miles go by quickly, mainly because one of BRBE's friends found me in the crowd. We run together, chatting and catching up about the life events we've heard about one another through BRBE. A runner with whom he ran the Steamtown Marathon finds him, and we talk with him for a couple of minutes. Even though we were hitting seven minute miles, which is faster than my original plan, at no point it felt like I was pushing the pace, or was I feeling it in my legs or lungs. I felt comfortable keeping this pace. BRBE's friend looks at his pacing post-it note, and off he goes. I know his pace for the next five miles is just too aggressive for me, and I would hit a major wall if I went ahead with him.
Miles 6-10: 6:59 (official 10k split 43:40), 7:00, 7:02, 6:59, 7:02
Just like the first five, these next miles tick off. As I reach mile 8, my pace starts to quicken, and I move to the right side of the road, as I know J-Hay and his family are waiting for me near the Natick Roche Bros.
They're hard to miss; last year, J-Hay's sister's family made a wonderfully huge sign, which reads "Go Katy Go"... as I said, hard to miss. I find them, give a few high fives, and I'm on my way.
I look forward to mile ten, Natick Center, as my family is awaiting my arrival. I began to take in fluids, every two miles, first water, and then a Gatorade/water mix. I pull my arm sleeves down, and I reflect to myself that it's a perfect day for a marathon. I see my mom, my aunt, my cousin, and a family friend, and I hand off the arm sleeves. Seeing them gives me a push.
Miles 11-15: 7:11, 7:04, 7:54, 7:05 (official half-marathon split 1:33), 7:17
My belly starts to bounce... uhoh, I'm in dire need of a bathroom break. After passing two spots with taken porta-potties (and not willing to stand and wait), I finally find a row of empty ones as I pass into Wellesley... yes, finally. Looking at my other splits, I probably added 40-50 seconds onto that mile, but I think it's time well-spent. With a empty stomach, I had room for more fluids and a gel or two and was able to more fully enjoy and focus on the race instead of focusing on a full belly. Coming through the Scream Tunnel at Wellesley College, I felt a surge of energy. Halfway there!
Miles 16-21: 7:11, 7:22, 7:28, 7:20 ( (official 30k split 2:13), 7:32, 7:40
Passing Newton-Wellesley Hospital around mile 16 means reaching the PowerGel station on the route... I'm weird, I don't train using gels, so my body isn't really accustomed to any one type of gel. And I probably wouldn't recommend just taking whatever is offered during a race since you don't know how your body will react. BUT in my case, as Boston always has this station, I've experimented with these gels in the past years. I know one gel will not cause havoc on my stomach. So, I took a Strawberry Banana caffeinated gel from a lovely volunteer, and held onto it until we passed the marker for mile 17 and I saw the fluid station up ahead. One thing I learned is that I always need to have water handy after taking a gel... it just helps it all go down much easier.
Reaching mile 17 means passing the Newton firehouse and taking the turn onto Commonwealth Avenue, which also means the start of the Newton Flats, aka the dreaded hills. During my first Boston Marathon, in 2010, I remember running through Wellesley, still on Route 16, and having a man next to me ask if that was it for the hills. I think I looked at him incredulously and relayed we haven't even reached them yet. I feel at home on Commonwealth Ave in Newton, as we did many of our long runs in this area during college, and I've always lived close-by. Now, living only a few miles away in Brighton, Commonwealth Ave is almost a daily occurrence on my runs.
About halfway up the first hill, I see my Dad, and wave hello and smile. I crest the first hill, and then cruise through the flat section, then reach the second hill, by the Johnny Kelley statue... I realize I'm passing people! You know you've run a relatively smart race if you're passing people on the Newton Flats. Then comes the infamous Heartbreak Hill... while my pace did slow (evident by the 7:40 mile split), I didn't feel awful. I knew the feeling was temporary, and once I crested the hill, the energy of Boston College and the upcoming downhills would breathe life back into my legs.
Miles 22-25: 7:18, 7:32, 7:26, 7:28 (official 40k split 3:00)
Once reaching the crazy scene at Boston College, it feels like you're on the homestretch. You're finally in the city limits of Boston, and it's (almost) all downhill from there. I see my friend Katie Wade on the downhill, and I feel like I'm flying. But next is the graveyard. The mile after BC is called the graveyard for two-fold (I assume): one, you pass a graveyard on your right, and two, the spectators are sparse, and it feels especially empty after running through the crazy scene at BC. So, it's a bit of an energy sucker. But that's okay... knowing you are under five miles to go is enough of a push to keep the pace strong. Into Cleveland Circle we go... first I see Hannah and Emily, then J-Hay, then Laura, and then before I know it, I reach Kenmore and it truly is the homestretch.
Mile 26, 26.2: 7:03, 1:27 - Official Finish Time: 3:09:40
As we reach Kenmore Square and turn onto Commonwealth Avenue again, an older man comes up behind me... "I've been following you for the past few miles... come on, let's go!" I smile and shake my head... "Oh I'm not sure what I've got left..." but he laughs and I'm not let off easily. "Are you going for 3:10?" I ask. He nods and off we go. The pace increase is immediately felt, but it doesn't feel bad. It feels GOOD. I know at that point, I'll have something left at the end, and I could have pushed it a little bit more as I went through Brookline. But I didn't regret my pacing choices either-- I was feeling good, fully and completely enjoying this race.
Down Commonwealth Ave we go, and as we go under Massachusetts Ave, I think I lose my new friend. I glance back a couple of times, but I can't seem to find him. We turn onto Hereford, and the man next to me does a cartwheel... man, I wish I had both the energy and the ability to do that!
Finally, it's the last turn, and we're onto Boylston. It's go-time. (which is obvious from the look on my face in the picture below)
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I can see the finish line. I can see the photographers cat-walk. The crowds on either side are incredible, and so is the noise. I can hardly hear myself think! But it's not distracting-- in fact, it keeps me pushing forward and forward, as fast as I can muster. I reach mile 26, which is dedicated to the Newtown (CT) school shooting victims. I know at this point that I'll be under 3:10... but how under can I go?
And finally, the finish line is under my feet, and tears come to my eyes... I am just so happy with the race, with the entire race. I never thought I could run under 3:10 after a not-so-stellar training cycle!
The new friend I met at mile 25 found me after the finish, and we shake hands, and I sneak a small hug. Without him, I don't think I would have pushed it as much as I did. I reach Copley Square, which is hidden under loads of tents and other equipment, and I'm ushered away from the crowd. As a Boston Athletic Association running club member, we are given access to a club tent, which is wonderful. A medal is placed around my neck, I briefly chat with the club coach, and once I'm inside, I'm given my bag. A smile is plastered on my face. I am so, so happy. I make the necessary phone calls, change into a dry shirt, and leave to meet my family. I could not have been happier.
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