Let's Start at the Very Beginning

This Monday Monica and I woke up at 4:45, dressed for the day, hit the Dunkin' Donuts for bagel sandwiches and drove to Hopkinton State Park where we hopped on a school bus into town and wandered a bit until we found the Boston Marathon Starting Line volunteer check in. We met Sally who was in charge of all of us, and then Ellen who was our corral leader, and began learning about our responsibilities as corral wranglers. We had corral #8 which was right at the junction of the main streets where the runners come from the Athletes Village toward the starting line. Because of the way they configured the corrals this year we were at a critical location as all the runners come to Main St and either head right to corrals 1-7, left to corral 9, or straight to 8. We were right in the center of things.

Last year's marathon bombing made it important to us to be a part of this year's event. Through a friend we connected with the Sally and were able to get a volunteer spot, the only newbies on our crew but everyone was welcoming and the job isn't rocket science. Basically, our assignment was to check that the runners entering our area were in the right wave and had the right corral number. It was easy at first, since wave 1 was the most relaxed and had the most time. The first couple dozen runners we talked to individually and pointed out the bags for trash and extra clothes. As we approached the start time the crowds picked up and there was a huge stream of runners entering. We were just gazing at bibs, not faces, looking mainly for '9's, the scarlet number that got you banished to the next corral down. There were a few but fortunately everyone took it in stride.

The mobility impaired and elite women runners took off at their assigned times but that all happened up front. There's a hill along the corrals so we couldn't see the starting line from where we were. Around 9:15 the first of the nervous wave 1 runners approached us and started filing inside the ropes. These folks either were too nervous to wait in the Athletes Village or just like being prompt. It wasn't until close to 9:45 that things really got busy, as a wave of runners came down Grove Street all trying to match the number on the lower right corner of their bib to the signs. The folks in wave 1 were experienced and fast marathoners, but you could sense the nervousness underneath the concentrated exteriors. The corral began to fill up quickly and we had to ask runners to move forward so they could all fit. After the national anthem the gun went off right at 10:00 as the first groups surged. The corrals were let go one at a time as space cleared up so it was a few minutes before 8 got the OK. We cheered, slapped dozens of high fives, and shouted encouragement as "our runners" started their journey.

We ran into the corrals to pick up trash and discarded clothes and as we turned around we saw a wall of runners being held 200 yards up Grove Street eager to get in line. The workers let them go and the wave of wave 2 came at us with the anxiety that only a waiting runner can produce. This time the corral filled up quickly and the gun would be going off in about 20 minutes so we had to move. As we approached the gun time there were still streams of runners headed our way. To get them all in we had to move some barricades and quickly. Even with that we there were runners outside the barricades when the gun went off. Fortunately, the runners seemed to take it all in stride (pardon the pun) and no one complained.

Waves 3 and 4 were a blur of runners arriving late and the volunteers running around to move barriers and herd everyone into the corrals. We get the last two waves off in time, and all of a sudden it's over. The last runners are on the course, we pick up the trash and discarded clothing, and make our way up the hill to grab some lunch. Sitting on the side of the road by the start line we watch as workers pick up the all the metal barriers. It'll be hours before the final runners cross the finish line in Boston but our job is done.

Not just another pair of running shoes

Before I started running semi-seriously (or whatever the heck I'm doing now) I never tracked how long I had a pair of shoes, or how many miles I ran in them.  They didn't wear out; I wore them until they fell apart. When they were too far gone to ignore I'd buy a new pair. I never kept track, it didn't matter.  But now, I buy shoes after doing actual research.  I go to running stores, sample a bunch of shoes, have my gait analyzed, and don't always buy whatever is on sale. The price isn't a problem since I feel like I'm getting good use out of them. I use runningAhead to track every run, every mile, every minute I spend on my feet.  It's great for training, for looking back at the past year or month and feeling a sense of accomplishment, for knowing when it's time to retire a pair of shoes.

I've just retired my last pair of Saucony Ride 3's after a fine snowy run in shorts. They have 350 miles on them, which I find is just about where I start getting some discomfort after runs, so it's time.  Looking back through the log, I just discovered that these were the shoes I used for the Boston Marathon!  I was sure it was a different pair, but the computer doesn't lie.  They also ran the Bay State Half marathon and the Jingle Bell 5K.  All the rest of their mileage was training runs, from 2 to 21 miles in length.

I've retired a few pairs of shoes, but these have done the most with me.  A quick review of the runs with this pair of shoes brought back all sorts of memories, both good and bad.  Of course there was the marathon, but also the 21 mile training run 3 weeks before which let me know that I could do it.  There was the very painful 13 miler in September that convinced me to switch from the full to half marathon in October.  There was the Jingle Bell Run with Brenda, wearing matching reindeer antlers. All from a single pair of shoes.

Like Gu and Clif Bars, shoes are consumables.  You buy them in order to use them up.  They have an expected life span and they serve you well, but their destiny is to become trash.  Perhaps they can be used as casual shoes, or in my case then end up in the pottery studio covered in mud, but their days are numbered.  Or in the case of running shoes, their miles are limited. But I'm a nostalgic fellow, and it's rare that something from such an important event in my life gets discarded so easily.  I'm not sure what I'll end up doing with this pair, but it's the last pair of Ride 3's I'll ever own.  They've switched to the new Ride 4's (which I just ordered).  The Ride 3 was the first shoe I had fitted to my feet, and I went through 3 pairs of them.  I may just hold on to this last pair.

Shipping up to Boston

The worst part of running the Boston Marathon for my first marathon is now I have a an inkling of an idea that I could run faster. I had leg cramps for the last 10 miles which made me walk a minute each mile, so I know that if I managed to get that under control and do a bit more speed work I could get my time down.  It's a lot like golf, where one perfect shot builds up the hope that you could actually do this well at some point.  At the finish line I didn't want to even contemplate another marathon but now, almost a week later, it doesn't seem like such a bad idea.  My brain is trying to kill me.

The weather forecast for Patriot's Day was wonderful; sunny and not too warm, with a tailwind predicted for much of the course. I really couldn't ask for a better day; in my mind I had been picturing sweltering hot days or sleet and freezing rain.  As is par for the course, I didn't sleep much the night before the race, but was feeling as good as could be expected when Monica dropped me off at CRI at 6:45 AM.  There, I met up with Robyn and the other CRI runners who were taking the van to Hopkinton.  Although she had qualified for the race, Robyn hadn't had the chance to train as well this year and her longest run was only 16 miles.  Her stated plan was to run to BC then exit the course and pick up her van at CRI, but until then run with me as a pacer and coach.  I was pretty confident that if she made it to BC with me she'd finish the race, but I didn't say anything.

We rode out to Hopkinton and an animated conversation about our expectations.  Three of the folks in the van had run Boston before so they knew what to expect at the Athlete's Village.  Two of us were newbies and were pretty excited about the whole experience.  The van dropped us off about 1.5 miles from the village and we walked along the road in the chilly wind.  Choosing to wear the heavy sweats and bring the wind jacket was fortuitous; it was cold.  Once in the village we did the only sensible thing to do - line up for the porta-johns.  We spent the 2+ hours sitting on the grass, trying to stay warm, and periodically going to the porta-johns.

Around 10:20 AM we in the third wave had dropped off their bags in the buses and we were all moving out towards the starting corrals. Robyn had grabbed a discarded Cornell sweatshirt to wear to the start line and I had my Dartmouth t-shirt on - I felt very collegiate.  Two folks in our group were in corral 9, the last one, so we all decided to start there instead of our assigned corrals.  Robyn wasn't even in our wave - she qualified for Wave 2.  As we approached 10:40 the crowd slowly moved forward.  The atmosphere was light, but there was certainly an undercurrent of tension.  Most of the people that far back either hadn't run a marathon ever or hadn't run Boston.  Expectations seemed low, but uncertainty was high.  Just after 10:40 the lead runners started and it took us 4-5 minutes to reach the starting line.  We broke into a trot and then started running at our target pace.  The marathon was on!

Robyn and I settle in side-by-side, with periodic arcs around and between slower runners, or as we parted to let faster runners by.  We quickly lost sight of Clai and Anne, leaving just us two.  I checked my pace to make sure I wasn't going out too fast on the downhills and was happy to see that we were keeping to the 9:30 target.  Except for the very first drop, the downhills aren't drastic so it's easy to start out too fast.  It was amusing to see runners headed off into the woods in the first mile or two to take a leak even though I figured I'd be doing the same eventually.  It took two miles or so before it really dawned on me that I was running the marathon.  Woo hoo!

The first water stop was at mile 3, and Robyn said she's get water for me - just keep running.  We did that for the first 10 or 12 miles but after that I just got my own water/Gatorade.  She was doing a fantastic job keeping me focused on pace and not getting overwhelmed.  Having someone there to chat with, point out the costumes or the interesting spectators made the time go by quicker.  I remember the woman with the sign that read "Drunk (again)" who most certainly was.  The Eiffel Tower replica was impressive.  We had settled in with people who were all running about the same pace, so we'd see them on and off for the next 4 hours. There was a guy in front of us for most of the race who must have had "Dave" on his shirt as people were cheering "DAVE!" a lot.  My Dartmouth shirt got a lot of "Go Dartmouth" and "Yay Big Green" along the way, to Robyn's amazement.

As we approached Wellseley College just past mile 12 I could hear the Scream Tunnel, and it lived up to its reputation.  A half-mile of screaming college co-eds eager to kiss anyone going by with a bib number is quite the sight.  I chose not to engage them but I enjoyed the Dartmouth cheers and reading some of the imaginative signs.  Soon after that was halfway point and I realized that I wasn't going to have a great performance.  I could feel the beginning of some cramping in my calves but didn't want to stop and stretch as long as I could keep up the pace, now around 10:00.  I spotted a co-worker in the crowd, the first familiar face I'd seen on the course, and that buoyed my spirits.

All along the way, Robyn was the best running companion a first time marathoner could ask for.  Even though I'd run the course, she knew it far better, kept and eye on the clock, and distracted me when it was clear I was hurting.  After hitting Mile 16 I said I needed to walk for a minute while taking my water to give my calves a rest.  That would pretty much be the pattern for the rest of the race, sometimes I'd walk for 30 seconds, other times for up to 2 minutes.  Robyn was always there keeping an eye on the clock and supporting me when I started running again.  She had a great look on her face that seemed to say "I know you feel that you need a break right now, but it'll all feel better once you finish.  Now get moving!"  At least that's how I interpreted it.


At mile 17, just before the hills, I grabbed some Gu from the tables set up on the route and they helped a bit.  Just before the firestation I spotted Jeff in the crowd by his house and he took some nice photos of me and Robyn and ran with us for a short bit.  Just as we made the turn onto Comm Ave we passed a troop of soldiers with full packs and we pretended all the cheering was for us.  The turn at the fire station is a major milestone; it signals the start of the hills.  I'd run these hills a dozen times but never with my legs feeling quite like this.  Running in the main street instead of the carriage way was new, but the hills remain the same.  At one point I needed to stop and stretch my calves, this was my only true stopped point on the marathon.  All other times I kept moving.  Soon after that I was passed by a guy running in a business suit.



Getting to the top of the hills at BC felt great, and the downhill stretch was good for my calves.  It was not so great for my quads but they're big, they can take it.  Robyn chose this point to tell me that this was the longest in terms of time she had ever run.  That's a motivator for you. We turned at Coolidge Corner and cruised up Beacon.  Robyn pointed out the Pru which is essentially the finish line - it really didn't look that far away.  Amazingly I saw a few friends in the crowds, or more accurately they saw me and got my attention.  On we went past Washington Square, the Citgo sign was almost close enough to touch.  I was looking for Monica and Bob and Geri now, somewhere along the left side of the course.  But I made it all the way to St Mary's without seeing them and thought for a second that I had missed them somehow.  But just before the bridge over the Pike there they were!  I got a hug and a kiss for my troubles, and was now ready for the final stretch.  (Oh, the Red Sox won!) Past the Citgo sign, onto Comm Ave, under the overpass and looking for Hereford.

As we made the turn onto Hereford Robyn went into full coaching mode.  "See that?  It's Boylston, the last turn on the course.  Now, two more stop lights and the finish line.  Just look at the finish line and it'll be over soon!"  I listened to the cheering crowds as well but Robyn's voice was much more motivating.  I managed to spot Bobby who was working a detail near the finish line but that was all the energy I had.  100 more feet.  50 feet.  I'm there; hands up and look at the camera!  Can I stop running now?


We slowed down and stopped.  That felt good.  My feet were swollen and hurting but no sharp pains.  My calves were still cramping but I could walk no problem.  My quads had started to hurt a bit but they're just babies; suck it up.  Other than that I felt pretty good.  We got our water, Gatorade, then our medals, mylar blanket and food bag.  I ate the salty stuff, drank as many fluids as I could, and kept walking slowly.  Robyn called her husband and arranged to meet at the Mass Ave bridge for a ride home; she was planning on just walking back to Cambridge but I thought this was a better deal.  We hugged and said goodbye; I'll always remember and try to repay the gift she gave me that day.  I think chocolate might be a good down payment.

The walk to the meeting area was slow and painful, my feet were quite swollen.  Soon after arriving there Monica arrived, out of breath from running all the way to the finish through the crowds.  She had my Crocs which felt SO GOOD on my feet.  I changed into my sweats and put on a jacket (making sure that medal was on the outside) and started a slow shuffle to the Park St T stop.  After my experience at Disney in January, I admit it was extremely gratifying to walk through the Common with a Boston Marathon medal around my neck and exchange knowing looks with other finishers and accept the congratulations from others.  It was just now beginning to sink in that I'd run a marathon.

The walk from Harvard Square to my house went surprisingly easy, and while not skipping along I had some life in my legs.  The next day I was pretty sore and spent most of it around the house but by Friday I was able to go for a run again. Except for the cramping and sore feet (and I'll probably lose a toenail) I thoroughly enjoyed my first marathon.  I think that by using the word "first" I'm acknowledging that I will be running another one someday, maybe even this fall.  I spoke to my brother and we're making tentative plans to run a fall marathon together this year.  I know I have it in myself to run faster, and more importantly to me, run better.

I think I've answered the question.  I'm a runner.

Welcome to Hopkinton

As we drove past the sign reading "Welcome to Hopkinton" it occurred to me that we'd been driving in the van for a long time.  We started at CRI and were about to be dropped off for a 21 mile run along the course to Boston College just past the top of Heartbreak Hill.  This was going to be my longest training run for Boston, my longest run ever, actually.  I'd done 18 two weeks earlier so I felt ready, but just four weeks ago I had to walk back from a run because my ACL had seized up. There were nine runners, five who had run Boston before and four of us who'd never been to the start of the marathon.We got dropped off at 8:00, grabbed a Gu or two, used the porta-potty one more time and without even thinking about it we were running on the course at 8:15.

Because it was just under 30 degrees I was wearing wind pants and my jacket plus hat and gloves. The first 6 miles are generally downhill and I started out faster than I should have.  I was running with two women from our group and we fell into a pretty good routine. We didn't stop at the first water stop but did so at the second one where we began to separate.  Heather and Jen ran slightly faster and I hung back a bit and ran at at my target pace.  The middle miles passed under my feet easily, and I stopped briefly at each of the water stations, grabbing a handful of M&M's or Swedish Fish.

There were lots of images along the way that stuck in my mind.  The "Entering Framingham" and "Natick" signs, passing Bacon Street which seemed like a taunt at the time, the two vans of screaming women that drove along the course, crossing 128, making the turn at the fire station and heading up the hills. There were a few people that I kept seeing the whole way; I'd pass them and they'd pass me, not sure who finished first. At mile 17 I caught up to Heather and Jen, who decided to walk at 16.5.  Heather was coming back from an ankle injury and Jen walked with her for a mile and then resumed running.  She ended up finishing just a little bit behind me so she must have run the last 4 miles pretty well.

At the fire station I was entering familiar territory - I'd run this stretch of the course many times so I knew what was ahead.  There are three main hills and the first one went by moderately quickly.  On the second hill I started feeling a little cramping in my calves, something I have dealt with in the past and probably should have stopped to stretch but I knew the end was in sight. So I changed my stride a bit to help my calves and started up Heartbreak Hill.  If it wasn't for the cramping it would have been no problem, but it wasn't bad.  I crested the hill and someone said that the finish line was only a few 100 yards ahead.  I saw a crowd of folks and a line painted on the road.  Some people cheered, a kid handed me some St Patrick's Day beads, I hit the stop button on the watch and stopped running for the first time in three and a half hours.

I felt surprisingly good after the run, no knee pain, legs and hips alright, and just a bit of cramping in the calves.  I'll work on my hydration and start my taper which should help.  I've got the hard work out of the way and I'm feeling strong enough to make it the starting line in good shape.  The run this weekend left me feeling sore, but confident for Patriot's Day weekend.  I felt good enough at mile 21 that with a little stretching I could have run another 5 miles.

Right on Hereford, left on Boylston, here I come!

One Month to go

This past Sunday I ran 13.1 miles along the Charles River and it was an "easy" long run.  I've got two more long runs before the marathon; 21 miles this weekend on the marathon course (Hopkinton to BC) and then another 13-14 the following weekend.  The weekend before the marathon is a short run (6-8 miles) and then taper until the big day.  It's getting closer, and I'm getting a little anxious about not doing anything new or different that would risk injury.  The legs are feeling pretty good and I want them to stay that way for another three weeks.

The run this weekend is a dry run for the marathon - I'm going to be using the same clothes, socks, shoes, etc.  The forecast is for temps in the 30's and sunny, hopefully the race day will be a little warmer than that.  But there's no rain (or snow) in the forecast so that's a plus.  This weekend is the time when all the fund raising (Plug! Plug!) groups stage a supported run along the route.  I've never seen the start of the course so it will be great getting some experience on the downhill at the start.  Runners say that the downhill is the hard part, so it's important to me to know what to expect.

I'm trying not to look past Patriot's Day.  I have all sorts of plans for the spring and summer but I'll just have to wait and see how I feel after the race.  I may never want to do one of these again or I may sign up for a fall marathon.  Let's get one finished before I worry about that.

Light at the End of the Tunnel?

I'm basking in the glow of an 18.5 mile run yesterday. I'm also sitting with an ice pack on my left knee as a preventive measure, but otherwise feeling pretty good.  I took a full week off after the last long run, skied up to Tuckerman Ravine the following Saturday, then did a few easy runs last week.  They were treadmill sessions, 3.1 and 4.3 miles, and my knee felt pretty good.  I've started using an ITB compression wrap that seems to help alleviate the pain and inflammation.

This past weekend was the NATO Telefest at Mad River Glen, an event I've attended for the past 10 years or so that I wasn't prepared to miss.  We skied all day on Saturday and I drove home Sunday morning, getting home by noon and starting my run at 1:00 PM. It was pretty warm, but there were some cold breezes so I ended up with more clothing than I needed.  I chose to run along the Charles River on the bike path, parking the car on the Cambridge side and looping up around the Beacon St bridge.  That would be close to 15 miles, and depending on how I felt I would add another loop.  At around 2 miles I felt a little discomfort, not quite pain, from my left knee and I was worried that this would be another disappointing run.

But nothing else happened. Headwinds along the Boston side of the river were a pain, but I made it through to the Harvard bridges, then Elliot St, then Arsenal St, still feeling pretty good.  As I crossed the river at Beacon I was feeling pretty positive, thinking that 20 miles wasn't out of the question.  The next stretch was a bit taxing, as it seemed to take forever to hit 10 miles according to my watch, then the rest of the mileage ticked by slowly.  I was keeping a steady pace, just over 10 minute miles, and my MP3 player was helping me ignore the time.  Running on dirt was also a big help, and I'm sure my knees are thanking me for that today.

At the Elliot St bridge I did some quick calculations and figured I'd be around 14 when I got back to my car.  Since I wanted to run further than that I had a few options but decided to just continue the loop and then run a second, smaller loop to add mileage as needed.  I could feel that I needed more fluids at this point and was cursing the fact that my belt only carries two bottles, not four.  Food wasn't a problem but liquid certain was beginning to affect me.  At the car I decided to keep running rather than stop for the Gatorade I had stashed in there, reasoning that the last two times I had problems with my ITB it was after a stop.  Up til now I hadn't stopped at all on the run, just a few jogging in place moments at traffic lights.

So, the second loop started and I passed by the Science Museum again, then along the windy Boston side of the Esplanade.  There were times I just put my head down and watched the path in front of my feet just rolling by.  Slowly.  I knew the pace had slowed down but it really didn't matter to me; I was still running 10:35s and that was fine.  Across the Mass Ave bridge (go Smoots!) and looping back towards my car as my watch ticked to 18 miles!  Woo hoo!  I had broken yet another barrier that I'd placed in front of myself. At this point I was out of water and I felt my calves beginning to cramp up a little.  Rather than push on to 20 miles I decided to loop across Memorial Drive and shoot for 18.5 to finish.  That would be a success for me.

At the car I stopped for the first time in 3 hours, waiting for my knee to lock up in pain.  But nothing happened, it still was a bit tender but no real pain.  A very positive sign.  I got the Gatorade from the car and spent a little time stretching, then drove home.  Getting out of my car at home I experienced some real cramping of my thigh, to the point where I couldn't walk or even shuffle, I just had to stand and stretch in place until the pain subsided.  At home I drank lots more, ate some, and stretched for 20 minutes.  Then I sat in an ice bath for 5 of the most painful minutes I've ever experienced.

Today I'm feeling pretty good, muscles and joints mostly fine, with a little tenderness in the ITB. I've been applying ice and taking some Ibuprofen to keep the pain and any swelling down, so far so good.  Not sure when the next run is coming up, tomorrow or the next day, but I'm actually looking forward to the 20 miler in two weeks.  If that's not success, I don't know what is.

February Grinds On

I'm beginning to comprehend the reality of marathon training for Boston when you live here in the snowy northeast.  What used to be relaxing, shorts and t-shirt mornings along the Charles River are now bundled up and uncomfortable runs while fighting headwinds, icy streets, and dwindling light.  Where I used to be able to just throw on some shorts and a t-shirt I know have to find all my cold weather gear, check the forecast, and sometimes ramble though knee high snow to reach the cleared street on the other side of my work parking lot.

Once out there running things aren't so different, but they're different enough.  Some days the old magic is back, but the weeks of pounding are starting to take their toll. My legs hurt a good chunk of the week after my long runs; either from tender IT bands or cramps in my calves.  As my weekly mileage numbers climb and the long runs get longer I can sense that the body has limits.  There are plenty of folks with higher limits than mine, but it'll take me a long time to build up to those levels, if they ever happen. There's running gear scattered all over the house, and the sand and salt from my running shoes is making a mess of the floor near my front door.

This is not to say that I'm not getting enjoyment from the training.  I've run longer than I've ever gone in my life and the feeling of accomplishment with each long run is palpable. Running on the weekends on the marathon route allows me to feel part of a community of runners who all know about the first two paragraphs I've just written.  They get it, and they're still out there on Comm Ave avoiding slush puddles and dealing with headwinds.  I also got to buy a lot of new gear, which is always fun.

So we head to the end of February and I am juggling long runs with the few remaining skiing weekends I can have before my training schedule pretty much makes them impossible.  But by then the weather should be warmer and the taper will be within striking distance. The marathon itself is too abstract right now, the training is concrete.  But for now training is one foot in front of the other, which is what's going to get me through the marathon as well.

On beyond 13

Today's run has been in the works for a long time.  After being sidelined by my ITB injury I ran a 12 mile run the first week back.  This week has been some running and a full day of telemark skiing on Saturday but I really wanted to start pushing my distance.  The forecast was for a very cold day, temps in the single digits, but the weathermen seemed to moderate and by the time I parked on Comm Ave it was nearly 20 with some solid sunshine.  Maria arrived just after 11:00 and we quickly got ready and headed out.

My goal was 14; Maria was looking for anything over 13. We started along the marathon route, over Heartbreak Hill and down towards the fire station.  Because of all the snow we didn't want to continue on the normal route so we stayed on the carriageway along Comm Ave until it ran out at 5 miles total.  There, we turned around and headed back up the hills.  Maria had an easy stride, deceptively racking up the miles and keeping our pace up around 9:30.  As we hit the hills I asked to back the pace off a bit as I was feeling yesterday's skiing and the hills.  We climbed Heartbreak Hill and got to our cars just past 10 miles.  Maria stopped briefly to get some Bloks out of her car, I continued inbound hoping to run 2 more miles and then back.

I'd never run this part of Comm Ave, and rarely driven it.  Without a carriageway I ran on the sidewalk which made it hard to keep up a good rhythm. Maria caught up to me as I waited for a traffic light and we ran along a bit before another carriageway opened up, but of course it had more hills.  She turned around just at 11.5 miles at the base of a big hill, I ran on up another hill and decided to turn around just before 12 miles to avoid a steep descent past Kindred Hospital.  The run back to the car was slow and a little painful, I was now running 11 minute miles and I could feel a little cramping in my calves. But I distinctly remember the point when my watch clicked over to 13.2 miles; it was an important point in my running career.  I figured I'd be a little short of 14 and sure enough my watch read 13.6 so I had to go a little further.  Unfortunately, the first few tenths after that is uphill and I tacked on a little extra to be sure.  Total distance, 14.16 miles.

My legs were quite sore when I finished, and the calves were still a little crampy.  I drank more water and had another Gu, but I was feeling it pretty badly.  I tried to stretch but it was tough on the sidewalk in front of the Dunkin' Donuts to really get into it so I hopped (staggered) in the car and headed for CRI where I turned in my official 2011 Boston Marathon entry form.

So I've now run past 13.1 miles.  Running another 12 after what I did seems like a pretty tall order, but that's why I'm doing all this training.  I definitely feel like I'm entering new territory now, as the longer runs start adding up.  Next weekend I'm teaching backcountry skiing for the AMC so I won't have a chance for a long run, the following weekend will have to make up for it.

Please consider contributing to my fund raising campaign for the G-Row program; giving athletic and academic assistance to girls in the Boston public school system. There's a link in the upper left of this page, please consider a contribution. And thank you to all of you who've already contributed; I appreciate your help.

Reality Sets In

After my run with Robyn last weekend I've been going over the marathon training schedule, lining up my skiing commitments for the winter, and figuring out that something has to give.  I've already decided that I won't be doing pottery this winter, I usually don't get much done in winter and this year will be far worse. Rather than do something half-assed, I decided that I should make some priority calls and concentrate on what is important to me. I've already started to pick and choose which ski weekends I can participate in, and which ones I need to cut short so I can do my long run on Sunday.

I have no intention of giving up skiing.  My original motivation for getting into running was to make myself more fit for skiing. Being on the snow is a great joy for me and not something I would give up lightly.  But the goal of running Boston is also something that has become very important to me.  It represents something I can't yet put into words; perhaps a rite of passage or a symbol of a new chapter in life. Time will tell - I don't want to burden it with unnecessary significance.  There will be time enough for that later.

In the meantime I look at the calendar, make my choices, sniff back a tear at the events I will be missing, give an involuntary shudder at the amount of running I'm being asked to do, and move on.  I was at a friend's house last night tuning up my skis.  He lives a block from the marathon course so on the way home I took a slight detour and drove along most of the Newton Hills.  They seemed longer and steeper than I'd remembered, but within reach.

Heartbreak Hill for the first time

On Monday this week I got word that I'd been granted a bib to run the Boston Marathon as a fundraiser for Community Rowing, so my winter schedule is under revision.  I signed up for a half marathon at Disney in January so I could run with my brother and see family, lots of planning.  But at some point, I suppose, I have to actually run.  Training this week went well, runs of 5, 4, 6, and 3 miles leading up to a Saturday run with Robyn.  We agreed to meet at CRI at 8:00 AM and she said she'd take me up to the Newton hills.  It really didn't dawn on me exactly what that meant.

The run started normally enough, running away from the river and up a few small hills.  We pulled out onto Commonwealth Ave and I realized we were on the marathon course, headed the wrong way up Heartbreak Hill.  I've driven this road dozens of times, but it was a bit like seeing it for the first time.  We ran on the little side street that parallels the main road, but in my mind I could see myself on the other side of the divide, crowds lining the route, cheering and noise. It was great to see the sights and figure out how they related to each other, plus all the other runners out in the warm November sunshine. How many of them were training for Boston, or is this their normal training run, or both?

We went out 4 miles and turned around to head back up the hills.  Robyn has an effortless stride up hills that for me represents the difference between where I am and where I want to be. I can run, and I can run hills, but not smoothly.  I felt my pace falter, my stride turn choppy, my breathing get labored.  Even so, we passed a few people that looked like real runners. I told Robyn to run ahead and wait for me at the top so I was left to my own thoughts for a bit.  I was visualizing myself here in 5 months and I couldn't really imagine the scene.

At the top I tapped the signpost that Robyn said represents the top of the hill for training purposes I didn't feel a sense of accomplishment.  The hills really aren't that big by themselves, it's where they occur during the marathon that makes them special.  We'd run 5.5 miles so far at a 9:00 pace, not bad but nothing to inspire pride and joy.  What I did feel was a sense of belonging to a larger community; the CRI marathon group, people all training for Boston, and the general running scene. There is a sense of camaraderie that is welcoming and open, especially on a sunny warm morning on Heartbreak Hill.

Boston 2011 - Disappointment turns into panic

A few weeks ago I posted about not getting a bib for the 2011 Boston Marathon through our fund raising team at work.  It would have been a nice fit and relatively easy to raise the money, plus it would be a nice way to find other runners here at work to train with.  Unfortunately, with a limited number of bibs and a lot of people interested in running I was not selected.  Such is life, and there are other marathons in the spring that would be a good fit. Running is becoming a big part of my life and running a marathon now seems like the right thing to do.

Enter Robyn, who would have helped me train this winter because she's training a fund raising group from Community Rowing.  If I had a bib I could join them on training runs and benefit from her coaching.  When she heard that I didn't get a bib from work she said that I should consider getting one from CRI.  I think her main motivation was making sure she could punish me all winter, but never look a gift horse in the mouth, so I sent in my application.  After speaking with Alice on the phone I had a good feeling about my chances.  And yesterday, I got the message that I'm part of the team!

I'm not sure how much of this has sunk in yet.  Running the actual marathon, that's too abstract right now.  The training all winter, that is what I'm focused on and what is consuming my thoughts. How will I handle my skiing commitments? Will I be able to do pottery or should I just drop it for a semester? Will I be out in the snow and sleet, plodding along dangerous roadways while trying to dodge cars and puddles?

For my birthday Monica got me a marathon package that included a Daruma doll.  This morning I filled in one eye and put it on my kitchen shelf.

He'll keep a watch on my progress and I'll hopefully give him a second eye come spring.