Dear Deads,
The Boston Marathon. What a hoot!
:-)
This was my second Boston. Last year, I ran most of my training runs alone
and prepared for Boston by myself. Drove the two hours to Hopkinton on race
day early in the morning and drove myself home when it was all over. My
parents met me on Heartbreak Hill and I chuckle when I recall my mother's
only remark to me at the time: "Why aren't you running faster?" The next
day, I hobbled into work and hung my medal on the office door.
This year, the experience was quite different.
Dear dead Dave Anderson has been running with me since late last year. We
ran in the cold. We ran in the snow. We ran at sunrise, at lunch, in the
rain, on the ice, in the wind. Dave was the only reason I was willing to
keep training through one of the most unfriendly of Connecticut's winters
that I can remember.
This year, Dave drove us to Hopkinton State Park so that I could catch the
shuttle bus to the starting corrals. After the gun (neither heard, nor
seen), it took me twelve long minutes to get to the start. But the pace
right off was quick, perhaps too quick for me, and by the time I met Dave at
mile 6.5 I was well on my way to being overheated. I stripped off my long
sleeve coolmax shirt, leaving just a singlet, got a nice hug and kiss and
some fresh, cold gatorade, and went on my way.
My pace slowed considerably as the race continued. I wasn't accustomed to
the warm weather or the bright sunlight. The heat seemed to radiate from
the street and I just couldn't get comfortable. My breathing was fine, my
legs felt fine, I just wasn't able to cool off.
Dave and I planned to meet up again at mile 16.5 and when I approached mile
17 without having seen him, I was really feeling low. Still too warm, and
now just getting into the Newton Hills, I was hoping either for inspiration
or someone to pull me out and take me home. Then, just at 17, I saw his
smile in the sea of spectators. Isn't it funny that a smile can perk us up
the way it does? With another fresh bottle and the promise of a big hug at
the finish, Dave sent me on my way before I could beg for an early ride
home.
I slogged through the remaining miles; I'm still not sure how.
The finish was cold and windy and I was grateful for the wrap that the
volunteers supplied. My chip time was 4:05 -- just about what I predicted
but much slower than I'd hoped for. But I'm not disappointed; since Dave
and I are signed up for the San Diego marathon in early June, I consider
this a good training effort for that race. My legs feel good. I groan
stepping down stairs but am much more mobile than I was after last year's
race.
Thanks to all the spectators and volunteers. Thanks to Robin for organizing
the dead encounter on Saturday evening; it was great to meet up with old
friends and to meet some new folks. Thanks to deads who wrote best wishes
before the run. Thanks to Julia and Joe for providing so many entertaining
pre-race messages on the NE-dead list! And thanks, of course, to Dave :-))
Michele
Niantic CT