I'm back from Boston. What an incredible weekend that turned out to be. Rarely does everything work out just right. I got to see some old friends, make some new friends, and even run a race.
The little group I was running around with all started to gather Saturday night. When Keith (my nondead running partner) and I arrived. We got in late and knew we were going to miss the Saturday night dinner. But we did get to the run on Sunday and then a quick trip to the bagel brunch. We both had a great time, but we had more friends coming in and needed to go meet them. Then off to the prerace dinner.
The next morning we all gather for the ride out the village. What a treat to have that group together. Laughing and joking our way out to the start. Everyone at ease and comfortable with each other. And what a group we have. Among the four of us we have someone who has done virtually every ultra or marathon anyone can mention. Two members have done an ultra or marathon on all seven continents, one has done all 50 states and is working on the Canadian Providences, two of us have just ran Umstead a little more than a week earlier, Keith is planning to juggle the entire distance (and does so), one is getting ready to run Badwater this summer and so on.
We eventually start working our way to the start. Somewhere in here we meet up with Dennis Halpin and he walks with us to the corrals. Now it is time to run, and I really start to wonder how this is going to go. I'm starting to get excited about the run itself and work hard at controlling that feeling. I know that I've done just about everything wrong to even think about a good race. I run too much, I don't taper, I was on my feet all day, I haven't hydrated enough and so on.
All that means very little at Boston. I am excited to be here and I start running. First mile is 7:20, second is 7:07, the next three are all right in the 7:00 range. I start to think this is going to get ugly because I feel real sluggish. Then I look around me and I'm surrounded by runners wearing 5000's bib numbers (two corals back from where I start). And I really start thinking I'm asking for trouble. So I just concentrate on running smoothly and quit thinking about pace. And everything settles out. It is like magic, I'm running easy and having a ball.
The miles are coming very easy and I'm doing something that I did not do on my previous trip to Boston. I'm looking around at the course and the spectators. I'm talking with anyone who wants to talk. Like I said earlier. I'm having a ball!
Sometime just past Wellesley college I start to get this funny feeling that I had better find a porta potty. That turns out to be a challenge. Each time I get to one it is in use and I convince myself I can go another mile to the next one. This keeps repeating right up to the bottom of the hills when I finally find an open one. In I go and do my business fretting all along about how long it is taking.
Then it is out and time to bear down. Up to now I've been running at a comfortable pace. Just concentrating on running smooth. Now it time to go to work. I love running hills and I'm determined to do well on these famous ones. So the effort level ratchets way up. My pace did not improve but at least I did not slow down either. And again I'm having a ball pushing up the hills. Only thing is that means I'm no longer playing tourist. So for the second time now I miss seeing the Johnny Kelly statue -- bummer.
After the hills I start thinking about two years ago. At this point in the race I pushed like crazy and finished strong. So I take inventory. Can I do the same thing again. It is not real clear, the hills did take more out of me this year. But I decide to run hard to the finish, and I do. From 21 on, all the mile splits were under 7's. And it just like in 2000. I'm working hard, passing loads of people. And then those last miles in downtown with the crowds cheering -- what a rush to have that while finishing strong for a marathon.
Final time was 3:11 something and a 3:10 chip time. I managed a very slight negative split and feel like I ran a smart race. Not my best possible marathon time, but that is OK. The race I was really targeting was a week earlier and I did well there. And I did much better here that I had any reason to expect. So I slowly work my way through the finish area and back to the hotel for a desperately needed shower.
At dinner that night I find out how everyone else did. And mostly everyone was happy. Keith wanted under 4 hours and missed by a couple of minutes, but he did juggle the entire way. I will never understand how he does that -- my arms would fall off. Plus I can't juggle. The others are all happy with how things went. We all agree that it has been a fantastic day.