Last Sunday, as I
compulsively clicked on www.wunderground.com for the umpteenth time
hoping that the weather forecast would somehow drop 40 degrees the
future looked grim. After running Boston my first time as a bandit last
year in about 3:45, I made up my mind to qualify and started training
for this year. A year of long Sunday runs later my dreams of beating my
qual time of 3:25 were going up like steam from blacktop hot enough to
fry an egg on.
Oh well, might as well have some fun! My little brother Dan lives in
Holliston, the next town over from Hopkinton, and we met up there at
about 10 am, two friends of his John Metzger and Neal Liebowitz myself
and Dan (he's actually about 6 inches taller than me) sat around the
living room watching the marathon coverage on tv and getting bloated on
Gatorade til 11 or so and then drove the back roads into Hopkinton. Dan
has a number in the 5's Neal has one in the 3's I think and I'm in the
8's. Dan's just recovering from Achille's tendonitis so I'm getting the
rare chance to run with him for the first half (he's usually much faster
than I) he and John are just going to Wellesley.
We had to walk for about 10 minutes or so from where we parked til we
reached the Hopkinton Common and visited a friend who lives in a big
yellow colonial kitty corner from the common on Ash street. The cool
shady porch is full of running stories, and we hang out there til 11:45
or so and then head down to the pens. Hopkinton is rocking in its
yearly 4 hours of fame, helicopters circling the top of the hill,
winding the energy up tighter and tighter, and the sun beats down on
the pens full of runners. Neal heads for his pen, John who's numberless
heads for the end of the line, and Dan and I head for pen #8 which for
some reason was truncated at the stoplight. Runner's are packed in
there like sardines, so we pull it up on the corner in the shade and
hang out. (Could it be there were a couple of other dead's sitting in
the shade there?) Finally people start moving and the contingent of
soldiers and staties let's us slip in at the end of pen #8.
At this point I'm not hot and I still have that 3:35 BQ in the back of
my head. That shouldn't be that hard ;-) I'll just run easy, with a
smile, and enjoy. It takes about 6 or 7 minutes to get to the starting
line then its down, down past Weston Nurseries, through Ashland, and
into Framingham the redneck/biker/techy history of the area showing
itself enthusiastically along the way and I'm getting a little hot. So
two cups of water over the head and a glass of gatorade on the right
then two more cups of water over the head on the left. Repeat every 2
miles... Down throught little Italy in Framingham and into the rotten
core of the town. Some wonderful firefighters have a hose out, boy does
that feel good, and I step into a 4 inch deep puddle and my shoes are
full of water. OK, just run easy and smile, past the Happy Swallow and
down we go, on the wrong side of the tracks past Dennison and its
industrial decay, the Beaver St projects and the junkyards and 14 year
old heroin addicts and up a bit and on to Natick. The miles are going
by at about 8:10 but time to stop and pee behind a bush (some folks are
actually waiting in line at the singular porta-potties every 2 miles?) 9
minutes for that mile. John caught up with us at about mile #2 (he's
fast) and we are running together the three of us, John & Dan keep
slowing down for me, Dan got me going on the race thing and now look
what's happened. We cruise through Natick center, running easy. My
parents and sister and sister in law and the five girls Rachel and Emily
and Sarah and Charlotte and Meg are handing out ice cubes just before
the Wellesley line on the left. I give my Mom a big hug (I'm soaked,
mostly water) but she's happy, and we are looking forward to Wellesley
College. There are pine trees along the road there and some shade on
the right and we're chatting and listening for the Wellesley girls and
the scream tunnel. "You could hear it from here last year" but maybe
that tail wind is blowing the sound towards Boston. The Wellesley girls
are amazing, they must be hoarse for a week afterward. Then Dan is off
to hop on his bicycle and ride back to Hopkintom and John to his car and
it is hot going through Wellesley and I'm running alone.
I pick it up a little, that 3:35 time is still within reach, but easy
does it. I remember running through here on the Crude Run, over Rt 9,
it is so cool to be running and we own the road and no cars and down to
Newton Lower Falls and over the Charles and past that oriental rug place
and over 128. My memory starts to get fuzzy now, it is hot, I breath in
two steps then breath out two steps, then breath in two steps then ...
the fire house corner .. and breath in two steps then breath out two
steps. There's that guy going backwards in his wheelchair,
unbelievable. Will I ever get to the top of these hills? I always
think I'm going up the last one and there's actually one more after
that. When I do it is clear that 3:35 is not going to happen, so run
easy, I'm in a trance. Past Cleveland Circle there are people walking
everywhere and I'm passing lots of people, a runner is down on the
street, another goes over and is caught by folks on the sideline. Now I
can see the Citgo sign, it looks so far away, but Kenmore Square is soon
there and the crowd is going nuts. The Red Sox have beaten the Yanks,
the cops have the crowd behind a fence, I run and feed off the energy
from the crowd, where else can you get thousands of people cheering for
you? Some guy running next to me is waving his hat and the crowd is
responding but all I can do is keep breathing, two steps for each
breath... I stop for water and walk a few steps then walk a few more
then ... run, I'm not walking and turn the corner onto Hereford then
there's the finish! I'm getting goosebumps but all I can do is keep up
my slow pace, 3:52 the clock says.
As I untie my shoe to get the chip I hear someone call my name, my wife
Julie and son are there. So off to the family meeting area, there are
runners collapsed every where some vomiting in the street, I'm not happy
with my time but I'm feeling pretty good.
We walk vaguely in the direction of Government Center and I'm feeling
OK. So we just keep walking to the parking garage there. My first
official Boston Marathon, and a time that probably won't be too hard to
beat!
Neil in Ayer MA