Post-Race Party

Less than 24 hours after the Boston Marathon and I feel pretty good. My time was 3:49:17. That puts it after my 2 Green Bay Marathons (3:30:35 and 3:42) and my best Chicago time (3:36:01). All of these were about 40 degrees when the race started, while 3 of the slower races were 60, 80 and 90 degrees.

I pick up my gear past the finish line, and when I check my cell phone, I already have a text message from Alan congratulating me on my time. I stretch, and start to change out of my wet clothes, and put on warm-up pants, and Megan is calling me on the phone. She wants to know all about the race, and if I experienced the same thrill that she did the year before. I have to cut her off, because I am getting chilled, in between switching between wet/dry clothes. I call Laura, and find out she is just getting out of the T-station, a good 45-60 minutes after I met her at the 21 mile mark. I meet Laura near the Boston Public Garden (where they have the giant swan boats you may have seen in movies like “Fever Pitch” with Drew Barrymore.) We are both on the verge of tears, hugging and kissing each other. Laura tells me how proud of me she is, and how happy she is that I achieved one of my dreams, and I know she means it. I feel so relieved that she was able to be here, since she had started a new job, and that she saw me on the course, even if it was only once.

It turns out that our hotel is only one short block from the runner’s exit, so if you want the closest hotel to where you meet people after the marathon, stay at the Park Plaza Hotel. Just ask for a room that is not above HVAC units, because those kept me up at night some.
Laura is her usual attentive self, and she gets me ice from the hotel ice machines, and then goes back down to the street to get me a soup and sandwich. I take my time stretching, on top of the stretching I did after the race in the gear-pickup area. The water in the tub has had plenty of time to get chilled by the pounds of ice Laura dumped in. I set an alarm on my cell phone for about 12 minutes. Okay, I have done this dozens of times before, and I know it’s going to help my recovery, but it feels especially cold. I don’t know if it’s because hotel ice melts quicker, or because my body’s core temperature has still not recovered, but I’m shivering. The soles of my feet felt like they were burning up for most of the race, and now the nerve endings are so sensitive, it’s like thousands tiny, icy needles. Laura comes back with the food, and I figure it has been 10 minutes. She checks my phone’s clock, and it has only been 4 minutes. I must have misjudged the time, and I get out to drain the water, and get into a hot shower. After I’m dressed, with the heat turned up in the room, and I have the hot soup and sandwich, I feel replenished. We order a hotel movie, and I stay on the bed or sitting for a good 2 hours.
Laura is unsure about my plans to go to the post race party at Faneuil Hall, but I am feeling pretty good. My right ankle and right knee feel a little sore. It may have been due to altering my gait because of a blister under my right big toe. We leave the hotel room, to take a cab in the rain to Faneuil Hall. First we go to dinner at McCormick and Schmick’s Seafood. I have a 1.5 pound lobster dinner, and plenty of side dishes and a creamy artichoke dip for an appetizer. I have already been snacking to add calories (my GPS estimated that I expended over 3100 calories during the marathon- that gets added to my usual 2000 calories a day when I don’t run). A lot of the restaurants in this complex offer a discount to marathoners, and of course, most of us are wearing jackets, medals, caps, so it adds to the atmosphere.

After dinner we go across the complex to the post-race party. We got an extra entrance ticket for Laura from the woman who ran the 5K with her, since she flew home tonight. It is at a nightclub associated with the Irish bar “Ned Devine’s”. I guess it is named after that seminal film on Irish playboys “Waking Ned Devine”. It’s a pretty cool space once we walk up the spiral staircase (note to organizers, please don’t make runners do stairs after a race – going down is especially hard on the quads.) They have free bottled water set out, and other leftover post race snacks. Besides the bar setup, they have a room showing video of the race. In the center room is a very active DJ playing hip-hop/rap music. He has a trio of backup dancers to help him show the crowd the moves to dances. I’m kind of tired overall, but I feel like I could dance. But it’s not really my kind of music and our hands are full with drinks, water and jackets. Overall, the crowd is really active, considering the vast majority of us just ran one of the world’s toughest marathons. After a while, we meander out, and catch a cab back to the hotel. Our nightcap is Ben and Jerry’s Fudge Brownie Sundae - to bring the calorie deficit back in line. We are mainly packed, so we will fly out of Boston after a sound sleep.

Ticket to a Dream

Running the Boston Marathon was everything I expected, and more. It was the perfect cap to a great weekend, and the 4 years that I have been running long distances.
Last night, we ate in Little Italy. (Laura is getting tired of pasta after 3 nights in a row). I have 2 alarms set, plus my cell phone, and I still wake up 15 minutes early. I have all my gear set up, and the coffee maker plugged in the bathroom. Earlier in the weekend, we heard Dick Beardsley talk about how his parents gave him money for graduation, and had a card that said it was for a plane ticket to fly to Boston to run the Boston Marathon. I thought that was great how they encouraged him to dream big. As I kissed Laura good-bye in the dark, I tell her “Thanks for the ticket.” Ever since I decided to run a marathon, she has believed that I could run Boston. Everyone needs someone to “buy them their ticket” to the place of their dreams, and I have my wife, Laura.

There are a lot of runners in the lobby of the hotel. I talk to a guy from Bristol, England, who actually grew up in County Tyrone, Ireland, so I talk about my Irish connections. After a cup of coffee, and visit to the last indoor plumbing I would see before the end of the race, I walk the 2 blocks to where the buses will pick us up. I cross the Boston Common, site of the Boston Massacre, and many famous speeches and gatherings in colonial, and revolutionary Boston. There are dozens of school buses lined up, with hundreds of runners waiting. I get waved over to a bus with empty seats, and I am off to Hopkinton by 6:15 am.

As we drive in the fog to outlying towns, I join a conversation with a couple of guys around me. One is grey-haired, and running his fourth Boston Marathon. The other is in his early 20’s, and running his first Boston Marathon like me. The older fellow had started running accidentally at age 55 when his thought his wife had registered him for a 5K walk, but it was a run. About six years later, and he is back at Boston for the 4th time. We talk about the races and conditions we have run in –me from Chicago, running in the 90 degree heat with Laura in 2007; The young guy was in the Lewis and Clark Marathon in Missouri, when rains influenced by Hurricane Ike flooded part of the course, and turned it into a 10 mile race. The 3-time veteran of Boston has been chased by coyotes and run near sites of mountain lion attacks near his home in Albuquerque. We have other things in common, like the Albuquerque guy was an investment advisor (I got his email for networking), and the young kid had gone to college at Concordia near Chicago – but obviously what we shared most was our love of running, in spite of conditions, at any age – that’s what gained us our initiation into this fraternity.
The conversation on our favorite topic (marathon running) passes the time quickly, and soon we are getting off the buses at the Hopkinton High School (“Where it all starts”). They have giant tents with water, Gatorade, bananas, bagels, and of course, hundreds of porta-potties, (that you know will still not be enough 15 minutes before race time). It is quite a festival atmosphere. Someone is handing out shamrock temporary tattoos saying “Boston 26.2”. I got one to match the shamrock cap, and my “Lucky shamrock socks”.

Today it is about 44 degrees at the 10 am start, and go up to about 50 by the time we neared Boston. It is mainly overcast, and rain is not expected until late afternoon. There is a light wind of about 8-10 mph starting to blow the fog away, and it supposed to pick up to 15 mph about halfway through the race. It is an ENE wind, so we will be running straight into it. Hopefully, those famous Newton Hills will block some of the wind as we plow up them. In running, especially a race, your body temperature will raise 5 degrees after about 3-5 miles, so staying warm should not be an issue once we get going. The trick is to stay warm before the race to conserve energy. I am running an a long sleeve top and shorts. I wear a billed cap to catch initially keep warm, catch the dripping sweat, and shield the sun. Even though the forecast calls for clouds, the weather can change over the course of 3-4 hours and 26.2 miles. I also wear sunglasses, because squinting , even just a little can cause you to tighten up, from the head down to your shoulders. I have cotton gloves that I have worn for hundreds of miles in cool weather, and in half my marathons. If they feel too hot or cumbersome, I’ll toss them away at a water stop.

Before the start, I have a baggy old shirt I got from a race, and some warmup-pants that are frayed, and have broken zippers. Volunteers go around the race start, and collect these “throw-aways” for Big Brothers and Sisters of the Poor. In addition, I have a golf wind-shirt to wear around the Athletes’ village. What I see at this start that I have not seen before, is a lot of people bring camp chairs and blow-up air mattresses to sit on the ground . I have been pampered at the Chicago marathon. Even for the 2 years after we raised money for the Arthritis Foundation, we were welcomed guests in their heated runners tent , with chairs and refreshments, and easily accessible porta-potties. The Buffalo marathon was so small, and we did not have to get to the start hours early. At the Green Bay Marathon, one year we had the start right near a convention center/hotel complex, and I stayed inside until 15 minutes before the start. The year I qualified, I parked my car 100 yards from the start in the parking lot at Lambeau Field, and then hung out in the indoor atrium part of the stadium. Your reward for running yourself into the ground to qualify for Boston is that you get to wait in mild discomfort before the real pain begins.

It’s all good, though, and I find a spot up against a wall, and start to talk with a local guy from a nearby town, who had been wanting to run the marathon since he grew up watching it. I’m glad I bought my cell phone, because I see a text message wishing me good luck from Scott. Last night, I got one from Gil – those guys are the next ones to get here: 3:30 in Chicago this October guys- You’ve done an Ironman- you can get to Boston. We all do an 8 minute pace, and we come back here in 2010. We saw some Multisport Madness jerseys this weekend – now we need the Southside Chapter to get here in Force!

Soon, I get a call – it’s Sue from the Park Forest Running Club. She and her husband Rob are running Boston for the third time. We make eye contact through the crowd, and I join their group of about 15 runners. Mainly, they are with the Chicago Area Runners Association (CARA), that runs in Yankee Woods in the south suburbs. Laura will be with their cheering section on the back side of heartbreak Hill. I see some of people I met at their pasta dinner the other night, and Sue shares an extra garbage bag, so I don't have to sit on the wet grass. We talk about the race, and the weekend. I make another trip to the bathroom, and I am about to consider another one when they call for runners in the first wave to drop their gear bags on the buses. I wish Sue luck, and I head out through the crowd. It's an impressive logistical feat - they have side windows of the buses open, and every 500 entrants or so pass in their gear bags to each bus. They will drive back to downtown Boston, where we claim them at the finish. I keep the bare minimum, and I start following the crowd to the start. It looks like we have to walk about 3/4 mile to the starting corrals. With my 3:30 time, I am in the second-to-last corral of the first wave start. Just as I get to the entrance of the corral, they sing the National Anthem. As I show my bib number to enter the corral, some Navy fighter jets do a flyover. (Of course, they will make it Boston even faster than the elites.) As the time gets closer, I peel off my cotton long-sleeve shirt, and the track pants, and pass them to a volunteer collecting them. Hopkinton is a postcard New England town, with white clapboard churches, and general stores. We ooze forward to the start, and we hear the gun, but it takes 5-8 minutes for me to get to the starting line. People are cheering us madly, and the course starts on a downhill, so I'm careful not to run too fast at the start. But the size of the crowd of runners prevents that.

As we run down the winding Route 135 out of Hopkinton, I am in awe to be following the course that so many great runners have followed before me for over one hundred years. I thought I would be super anxious and nervous, but I feel pretty calm. The first six miles are like a roller-coaster at a carnival. It's like a Mardi-Gras for runners. Still, I manage to keep my pace around 8 minutes for the first mile. If my downhill pace starts to get faster than 7:30 minutes per mile, I slow it down, because going to fast on the downhills can wear out your quadriceps when you need them later in the race.

I find myself picking out the same few runners to try to keep pace with, but we have different paces on the varying terrain and hills. I skip the first water stop, and when I stop to get Gatorade, the middle table I happen to pick does not have any poured. I don't want to get low in sodium like I did in the Green Bay marathon, so I come to a stop to wait while the volunteer pours one. A guy who picked up his cup at the table before, plows into me, and spills his drink on my arm. I'm glad I have long sleeves on.

There are some impressive runners running alongside me, not as many characters as you see in the Chicago Marathon, but the few here are good ones. Like an man and woman in colonial garb - Pinned to her back it says "The British Are Coming". On his back, it says "The Kenyans are Long Gone." Later, I will hear everyone cheering for Wonder Woman. When she catches up to me, she is a middle aged woman, in full costume- flesh colored tights, headpiece, and I think a fake wig to give her the dark hair.

Laura wrote out a sticker with my name on it, and I slapped it on my chest. About every half mile, I get people cheering out "Go Tom!", and it really helps keep my energy and focus up. We segue from the town centers of places like Framingham and Natick, to the rural outskirts flanked by ponds, and cranberry bogs. As I run, I exchange words with a few fellow runners, commenting on the crowd, or finding people who talk about running Chicago. But I don't really get synced up with anyone and start a conversation. For the last 3 marathons, I have run with Tom Flynn, run with a pace group, and run with my wife. So, it seems different not having that interchange. But I'm soaking it all in, and enjoying the crowd. I keep hearing the crowd chant for someone named "Laura", and it reminds me of when Laura had her name on her shirt, and it feels like she is with me today.

After about 6 miles, the course gets flatter, but still has winding turns and short hills every so often. I have a timer on my GPS watch set to let me know when 45 minutes elapses, because that is recommended time to take a Gel pack. We start to see groups offering beer along the way, but I don't notice any runners take any. People along the course have turned it into a part. One group seems to have rented a "Dino-jump" inflatable to keep their kids happy while they watch the race. In one of the towns, there is a a group of about 10 kids bouncing on mini-trampolines as we run by. It seems to be a gymnastics team or school. Today is a holiday in the state of Massachusetts - Patriot's Day, commemorating Paul Revere's ride to warn that the British Are Coming.

Around 10 miles, it starts to feel like a race, and I realize that I am in this for the long haul. It's weird, but I seem to run faster up some of the hills, because I am focused on charging up them, while I try to slow down on the downhills to save my quads. Pretty soon, we are coming by one of the famous parts of the race at around mile 12- Wellesley College, the all-women's school where the young women scream for about a half mile, and offer kisses to runners. I run by high-fiving, and one calls out "Nice Shamrock!", so I stop to let her kiss it. A few dozen yards later, a girl has a sign that says "Kiss Me. I'm Irish", so I tell her "Me, too!", and peck her on the cheek. It's pretty exhilarating and impressive that they are out here for 5-6 hours. I'm not sure if it has raised my energy, or sapped it when I am past them, but it was a nice distraction.

I have not been too concerned about my pace, but I can tell I am slowing down. I try to pick up speed when I can. At times, the wind chills me, and I feel my arms sore from pumping up the hills. My right calf feels tight, and I try to ease my stride, keep getting Gatorade, so I don't get a cramp. If it still is tight in a mile or two, I'm going to stop and stretch it. I also can feel some aches in my knee and ankle. There's a blister on my right foot, I think my sock has bunched up underneath my toe. My back and arms hurt, but I don't think it's because I am tense, I must be pumping my arms going up the hills.

Besides finishing this race, one of my goals is not to be crushed by the Newton Hills, and not to walk up Heartbreak. I start thinking about Laura running in the Chicago Marathon, and our friend Michelle battling cancer. Their pain dwarfs what I'm feeling, and is with them every day. Mine will subside in a few hours, and the soreness will be gone in few days, provided I don't injure myself. I feel so lucky to be running in this marathon, I want to honor it by running strong, not necessarily fast, per-se.

I pass mile 17, and we make a sharp turn near the Firehouse in Newton, so I know the Newton Hills are coming up. When I get some water for a Gu, I walk, and make sure I ingest the whole pack. I want to make sure I have fuel for these hills. When I was riding a spin bike for my cross-training, one of the songs on my I-Pod was "Heavy Fuel" by Dire Straits. It's a very tongue-in-cheek song about a hard-living guy who says "If you wanna' run cool, you've gotta run on Heavy, Heavy Fuel,", which for him is "Six hamburgers and scotch all night, nicotine for breakfast just to put me right". Not my lifestyle exactly, but the driving beat sticks in my head as I take these hills on the way to Heartbreak. People call out my name, calling good job. The next couple of miles have several very long hills. People are lining the course, and I need the help. At some point I realize that I don't have my name stuck on my shirt anymore. I focus on being ready for Heartbreak Hill, and I'll see Laura right after that. I see the hill, and people have signs up and there is chalk written on the sidewalk. I hear a guy panting next to me, and I call out to encourage him. I'm sure my pace is slow, but once I'm past this, any more hills will seem easy. I get to the top, and I am cognizant of not trying to speed up on the downhill (like I even could).

Now we are at the campus of Boston College, and I am supposed to see Laura and the Yankee Runners group. As we get to the heart of the college, the crowd is thunderous - the bass section to Wellesely's soprano screamers. Even Laura's cheering would be drowned out by this. I want to glide down this hill and cut a tangent on the curve, but I slow down by the right side, looking for Laura and the Dunkin' Donuts they are supposed be hanging out by. In Chicago, roadside Dunkin Donuts usually are in cookie cutter buildings with big signs. In Boston and New England, they seem to be in picturesque, unique building s with more discreet signage. So, I am starting to worry that I will miss my one chance to see her. Then, I see the Dunkin Donuts on the left, and as I am scanning the crowd, I see her. I can feel my face light up, I'm slowed down so much that she can't really get a picture of me running, so much as sauntering up her. I give her a kiss, and tell her I love her. Then she starts to tell me to "Go, get going". She has the misguided idea that I could actually PR in this race. I want to enjoy this accomplishment, and share it with her, so I
ask someone in the group to take our picture, and then my competitive wife pushes me on my way.

There is more of a downhill, and then it seems like we are getting into a more populated area outside Boston. A lot of people are out grilling, and the smell makes you hungry. We are running alongside the tracks of the "T", the light rail system that Laura will take back into Boston. People are meandering along one of the tracks, so I don't know if the train runs on only one track today. The crowds are like the ones in the Chicago Marathon, now, 4-5 deep, hanging out of windows of apartment buildings. I see the Citgo sign, and I keep chugging. Megan gave a card with that Citgo sign on it after she ran Boston, and I was going to try to qualify. I posted above a rack with my other marathon medals to give a pinnacle to aspire to. Now that pinnacle was in sight. I was past mile 24, and heading to 25. I knew a while back that a 3:30 time was not possible today, but 4 hours was well in reach, if I did not break down. We must be in the area near the Red Sox game. I'm not sure if it is over yet, but I heard along the way that they were winning. Commonwealth Avenue is a broad boulevard separated by the T-tracks and pedestrian bridges. There must be a guy near me with "James" written on his shirt, because whole blocks of guys chant "James! James! James!" as he comes by. I wish I had written my name on my shirt, then I could hear that cheering for me to pump me up at the end.

As we turn off Commonwealth Ave, I imagine how incredible it must have been for Dick Beardsley and Alberto Salazar to hear the crowds cheering for them as they battled to an epic finish. I recognize the Hynes Convention Center where I have spent a lot of time this week, so I know the remaining distance to the finish line. I try to use what little kick I have today. I hear the announcer calling people's names and hometowns, and I want to hear mine from this storied reviewing stand. I pass a couple of people. The clock time is under 4 hours, still so I know my finish will be close to 3:50, probably under. I smile and raise my arms for the camera, and I go under the finish stand. Crowds are cheering on both sides, and its time to get my best medal ever.

Watching from the Sidelines

On Sunday morning, we get over to the race staging area for Laura to run the Inaugaral BAA 5K. We meet a woman leaving our hotel who apparently trusts us enough after the 5 minute walk to leave me her cell phone and credit card until after the race. I stake a spot out in the bleachers near the finish. They have a race announcer and a JumboTron, so it is pretty cool. The top men's finisher does a 14:29, and the woman runs a 17:37. The fourth place woman was only 5 seconds behind at 17:42 (and 2 seconds out of 3rd place) - Joan Benoit Samuleson, 1983 Boston Marathon Champion, and winner of the first Women's Olympic Marathon in 1984 in Los Angeles. (Joan is now 51!) Katherine Switzer was instrumental in getting the women's marathon added to the Olympics. Laura saw "Kathy" moving to the back of the pack before the race, and after race was talking to Joan. At first Joan was going to take a finisher's medal, but when she saw that Laura's had "Inagural BAA 5K", she decided to pick it up.

After the 5K, they had an Invitational Mile race, another first for Boston. First they had two top High School runners from every town along the marathon route run. The girls finished in about 5:10. The boys in about 4:37. It was three loops around the city block by the finish line, and real exciting with the video screen, and the announcers. There was a real strategy, and it was definitely more about winning than a certain time. I talked to the coach of one of the girls teams, and she said they treated the kids great, and gave them about $500 in merchandise.

The elite men finished in about 4:11. The woman's elite field featured Carrie Tollefson, and Shalane Flanagan, an up and coming Boston runner. Shalane lead most of the race, but the woman that trailed her (Anna Willard) until the final lap, pulled ahead in the last 200 meters to win in 4:38. It was pretty exciting. I don't watch many races, because I am usually running myself. So, it was a nice change to see this, and get psyched up for the marathon tomorrow. The rest of the day is about rest, carbs, salt and fluids.

Whirlwinds and Legends at the Expo

It's been a whirlwind weekend in Boston, and the marathon hasn't even started. On Friday afternoon we arrived to 70 degree temperatures, and it stayed in the 60's all night. We got to the marathon expo by 5:30, and Laura went to get her 5K bib, and I went to get my marathon bib and chip. (They had never sent me the confirmation card, so I was a little nervous about that.) I also made sure I picked up an official marathon jacket, because we heard that they sell out quickly on Saturday. Overall, the expo and packet pickup was well organized, but I have to say that the Chicago Marathon expo in McCormick Place has a better layout. You might think that its an advantage that the expo is within walking distance of the downtown hotels in Boston, but I have felt the energy drain in my legs from walking back there 3-4 times. In Chicago, you have to drive, or take a cab or bus to get there.

On Saturday morning we got a kind of late start, because we slept in until 9 am (even 8 am Chicago time is late for me). We decided to change hotels because the Hyatt Downtown Boston was a little too far from the expo and the finish line for us. We switched to the Park Plaza Hotel, which is classy old hotel, we just have a smaller room. There are also a lot more restaurants and shops in the neighborhood of this hotel. It was 12:30 before we got to the expo, and we just missed seeing our friend Dick Beardsley the New Balance Booth. His time for signing autographs was up, and he only had a half hour break before he was going to speak at a Runners World Panel. we were confident he would have his autographed book for us, so we decided to catch up with him at the panel. So, we went over to the Adidas "booth", the official merchandiser of the Boston Marathon. This was about the size of medium-sized grocery store. I saw a cool singlet I wanted to get, another guy was sorting through the racks to find a medium, and his wife came over with one. Then my wife, the Power Shopper that she is retraced her steps, and got me one. Now the only thing was that the line to check out snaked around the entire exhibit, BEFORE you got to the official roped-off line to the cash registers. I spent almost an hour in the line, but I did have a nice chat with runners from New Jersey and Minneapolis. When I finished that, I popped into a panel discussion, the Runners World "Legends". Besides Dick Beardsley, there was Amby Burfoot, the '68 Boston Champio, and Greg Meyer, who in 1983 was the last American male to win Boston, and Katherine Switzer, who in 1967 was the first American woman to officially run Boston. (She snuck past their "men-only" rule at the time by registering as "K.V. Switzer", and the race-director, Jock Semple, tried to drag her off the course. ) Laura just finished Katherine's book I bought for her - "Marathon Woman: Running the Race to Revolutionize Women's Sports" . Laura told Katherine her own story about how she had to fight her high school to run on the boy's cross-country team, because there was no girls team yet in the early Title IX era. Katherine autographed her book "It's not just running, its overcoming the impossible. You rock, girl!". We heard Katherine talk about the changes in women's running, women's sports, and the worldwide condition of women since then. Greg Meyer talked about epic running battles in the Boston marathon and trying to keep up with the legends while he worked in Bill Rodgers' running store, and trained. Dick told a variant on the story that's told in the book about him "Duel in the Sun: The Story of Alberto Salazar, Dick Beardsley, and America's Greatest Marathon", where Beardsley and Salazar ran neck and neck the whole way to a world-record time, with Beardsley finishing just 1.7 seconds behind Salazar. Salazar acknowledged the great competition they had just been in by lifting Beardsley hand in victory in the podium. Dick said that has meant the most to him of anything in his running career. After the talk, we came up to Dick, and he greeted us like old friends with hugs and smiles, and a two-handed handshake. He asked about Laura's arthritis, and congratulated me on making it to Boston. He had a copy of the book he wrote, "Staying the Course", which is about how he resurrected his running career and his life after becoming addicted to painkillers after a farming accident nearly killed him. He is an inpsirational speaker, but also a genuinely warm, upbeat human being. He autographed a copy of the donated book to give to our benefit for our friend Michelle, who is battling cancer. Later in the afternoon, I went for my last run before the marathon. Our hotel is only a couple blocks from Boston Commons, which is about a mile square park criss-crossed by paths. I only had 3 miles to run, but 2 of them are supposed to be at my goal marathon pace of 8 minutes per mile, so that is a little fast for a city park with kids, and frisbee players. But there are other runners, and I try not to cut people off. There are some good hills in one corner of the park. Of course, just like I have a tendency to do, I go too fast at first. But it feels good to go out and run. I have been surrounded by others runners, talking about running for 2 days, and finally, I am running in Boston! I go back to the hotel to stretch and shower, and then Laura and I cross the street to Maggianos. A group from our favorite running store, Running for Kicks in Palos Heights, IL is hear with about 25 people. The owner, Mel Diab qualified, and is shooting for about a 3:30-3:45 time like me. Mel and his staff have beena great help to me and a lot of other runners in the South Suburbs and around Chicago. He puts on a number of races throughout the year in the south suburbs, his signature one being the Palos Turkey Trot 4 miler on Thanksgiving day in hilly Palos Park, IL. Last year he started the Palos Half Marathon, which I used as a 13 mile training run 2 weeks before I qualified for Boston in the Green Bay marathon. Mel's group has 2 tables, and we know a handful of people from the running community in our area. About 15 of them are going to run the Boston marathon, and about 10 are going to watch it. It's kind of early for us to join them for dinner, but we get information on where their group will be, so Laura can meet them at Heartbreak Hill. South-side of Chicago, Represent!

You Are Now Free to Move About the Country

Today we leave for Boston. The last couple of days have been really hectic. My wife is working full-time, and I have been trying to keep the house under control, look for a job, help with the fundraising benefit we are involved with, and get ready for Boston. People have been emailing and calling me to wish me luck, and it’s been really uplifting. I started running because I wanted an exercise where I wasn’t reliant on a gym being open, or making an exercise class, or having enough guys on a team. While I do all of my weekday runs, and half of my long runs by myself; I don’t feel like I’m going it alone. If Laura sees me when I come back, she wants to know how my run was, and I get to replay it for her. Or if I am debating over a certain route to run the next day, she listens, and sometimes will comment what she knows about which direction the wind is supposed to be in the morning, or mention that some people in her triathlon club are running in a certain place. And there are so many people that we know that are runners, or want to run, or are curious about our quirky habits like “carb-loading”, and “fartleks”.
Today will be my second rest day this week. Yesterday, I rode a bike at the health club for half an hour. Earlier in the week, I swam for 40 minutes. Everything feels good so far. I think I will run about 3 miles near the finish tomorrow, and then also take off Sunday to watch Laura run the 5K.
I am nervous and excited. Part of it is the race, and also some stress about finding work and things that we need to get done at home. I am hoping that with 3 days in Boston before the race, we will soak in the atmosphere and I will put that out of my mind. The trick is to mainly use this computer for blogging, and not for checking email, or writing cover letters for jobs. We are flying east towards Boston now, so I’m on my way.

All Downhill From Here

My last week before the marathon only calls for me to run 3 times. But since Boston is run on a Monday, and my last long run was on Saturday, I figure I can get in one more run, if I don’t make it too strenuous.

I drop of our copy of our state tax return at the post office (I “e-filed” the federal last week), and I drive over to an empty subdivision about a mile/two west of my house. I read in Runners World that it was good to get used to running downhill for Boston, but doing it in a more controlled way. So I chose this spot because it is near the peak of a 2 long, gradual hills. I run about ¾ mile to warmup, and I head down one of the hills. I want to keep my speed close to 7:30, only 30 seconds per minute faster than my goal marathon pace. But within a few hundred yards, I am showing 6:19 per mile. I slow that up and see the Garmin GPS watch show 8:00, so I maintain that speed, and I let gravity and momentum gradually increase my speed until it’s about 7:40 minutes per mile. This is a cool road, it transitions from the empty subdivision to a 150 year-old cemetery, with a gated estate next to it, and a big bond with a horse barn on the other side of it. Even though there is no shoulder to buffer you from the cars, it is wooded, and hilly, so it is a diversion from the cookie-cutter suburban streets. I get close to the bottom of the hill, where a small bridge goes over a creek. I have run a half-mile downhill, so I turn around and jog back up. I give myself some chances to walk, which I almost never do, unless I need to stop to tie my shoe, or fix something with my running gear.

I go past where my car is parked, and climb further up to the crest of the hill. Now, I am at the top of what my wife calls “the Never-ending hill” We usually run from the other direction from our house, and this street winds through the neighborhood, first with a steep downhill dip/hill, and then a series of gradual plateaus to where I am at. I run the half mile or so down this hill, keeping my speed between 7:30 and 8:00. Before I get to the bottom, I see a walking path that creates a shortcut back to where my car is. I want to keep the distance down, and I think this route will not go as much uphill as reversing my route.
As I run though this nature path easement between the developed neighborhood, and the empty subdivision, I think about the effect of the housing mortgage crisis on this area. Not just that I am out of work, but that this is a hole in our community. There haven’t been any problems that I can see, but it is sad that several hundred lots sit vacant. As I get closer to my car, I see a truck drive by, and I hear hammering. Through the tree line, I see one house being built, next to a model home that has been there for a while. Maybe the economy is starting to turn. Going uphill isn’t easy, but you have to do it to get to the top.

Band of Brothers (and Sisters)

Today was a 10 mile run - my last long run before the Boston Marathon. I met Megan, and we had run about 3 miles when we saw Bill, wearing his Boston Marathon jacket, the same one I used to see him come into the health club wearing about 5 years ago when I got the itch to run a marathon, and dare to dream about earning the right to wear that jacket. Bill ran with us a couple of miles, before he spun off to run back home, about 2 miles north of the trail.

I'm getting down to the last week before running Boston. I'm excited about the event, but I'm also feel very grateful for the journey. I have gotten a lot of help from many people I have run with - both those that have pulled me along in their wake, to run faster, and those who have taught me the real meaning of endurance, as they move along at their own pace, in spite of challenges and setbacks.

I have been lucky enough to personnally know about 8-10 people who have run the Boston Marathon. I have either run, biked or trained with them in some way:

• Bill
• Chris
• Megan
• Nicole (in the picture above with me at the 2005 Chicago Marathon)
• Helen
• MJ
• Pam
• Sue
• Donna

Oh, yeah, another Boston Qualifier I have run with - Dick Beardsley - 2nd place to Alberto Salazar in the 1982 Boston Marathon, by about 2 seconds. The other picture is me with Dick, the keynote speaker at the Arthritis Foundation's Pre-Marathon Pasta Dinner - with his opening act - the Lovely Laura Nolan, famous for her Energizer Commercial for the Chicago Marathon.

I once heard a storyteller say that we make great strides when we stand on the shoulders of those that came before us. I have to thank them for letting me stand on their shoulders (or step on their heels a few times). They gave me example of dedication and perserverance.
Beyond the times we have spent running/biking/or swimming, what they showed me is an appreciation of this accomplishment and the Boston experience.

I'm proud to join this "...few, we happy few, we band of brothers (and sisters)".