Eleven Miles From a Celebration

"Feeling alright?", Dad asks as I run by at mile 14. "Oh, no!", I think as I flash back to how I performed (or rather, didn't) just weeks before during the 2013 Boston Marathon. I thought something that included a four letter word, actually.

The day was May 5 2013, and I was racing the Walter Childs Memorial Race of Champions Marathon (also known as the Holyoke Marathon). I was there for a second annual shot at redemption after failing to run Boston fast enough to qualify for the next year's Boston Marathon. Really, everything was going fine, but Dad's question reminded me that this is just about the mile where in Boston I completely lost energy and started to run 8:30-9:00 miles, before getting leg cramps at mile 21 and then walking/jogging to the finish. A highly unusual (early) place to start hitting the dreaded wall, in my experience.

In Boston, I had crossed the half marathon mark in about 1:31 with hopes of achieving a sub 3:00 marathon time. But I had to work really hard to get there, starting in wave 3 with other non-qualified runners, weaving around many slower runners, burning nervous energy, and eventually finding "daylight" to run at my goal pace. And, I probably made a tactical mistake with nutrition and fueling the weekend before Boston (not consuming electrolyte drinks, just water).

Early on in Holyoke my mindset was pretty calm, to the point where I thought "I wonder how this one will turn out", as I glided through the first 8 miles on a nicely packed, flat, shaded dirt road encircling a reservoir. I knew that my dream goal of a sub-3:00 marathon required a 6:52/mi average pace, and that my bottom-line 3:15 Boston qualifying (BQ) time equated to 7:22/mi. So I thought the smart thing to do would be to run at a pace in between, not jeopardizing a BQ by going out too fast. However, 6:50/mi seemed to agree with me, and I find it hard sometimes (ok, all the time) to dial it down. So 3:00 marathon pace it would be, consequences be damned. Actually my friend Andy Brower (who I met that day) noticed I slowed a bit in the early miles as he closed a gap between us. I explained it was intentional, not wanting to shoot for the moon and jeopardize the real goal. He pulled ahead, and as it turns out finished in 2:59, just seconds below 3:00!

Andy Brower and me running in the early miles together in the Holyoke Marathon. Not a bad place to meet a new friend!

At mile 15 I settled my mind and noted that I was only 11 miles from a celebration - if only I could keep the mental determination and physical energy required. And I thought about the contrast between the 6 months of marathon training that I had piled up to get to this point, and only a few miles of fatigue potentially ruining that huge effort. I was still rolling along at a 3:00 marathon pace, and set my sights on getting to the 30K mark in one piece, and then handle with the remaining 12K in small chunks. I told my brother Jon this as he ran along side me for a little while. Jon, Mom, Dad and my sister in-law Colleen all made the trip out to Holyoke, signs and all, to watch me race.

Even for the smallest races, sometimes this runner travels big - with his own cheering section!

At the registration table (I literally filled out the form that morning and wrote a check), a race volunteer made sure to warn me "This is the loneliest marathon in the world. You'll be running by yourself a lot!". "PERFECT!" I thought - just what I needed was a race that was basically an advanced training run. I've been told I'm great at executing a training program, perhaps too much for my own good on race day. The environment was so informal that nobody really cared to mention where the starting line was to be found! What a stark contrast to the all-out noise and adrenaline of running Boston. Not to mention wanting a quiet place to help mentally process the despicable acts of terror from the 2013 Boston Marathon, and think about the long, really never-ending road to recovery for the victims, their families and the community.

A nice quiet place to run a marathon by yourself!

In Boston in the final 10K I felt pretty jaded, just like in 2012 when the weather more than anything contributed to my inability to reach my goals. Once again I was walking through Newton and Brookline, looking for nutrition, ice, and in 2013 trying to calm down my quadriceps and hamstring muscles that had seized up on me after Heartbreak Hill. Considering the enthusiasm I have for this event, I haven't made the right kind of effort to appreciate the outpouring of support that the spectators along the course provide. Here I am, hobbling down the street again, and a man is leaning over a barricade yelling at the top of his lungs - for me - personally. How awesome is this event?! I can't wait to be striding down this stretch of road, with no walking, no issues, just having the race of my life - and truly soaking in and enjoying everything about the Boston Marathon and what makes it so special.

So this brings us to the final stretch of Holyoke. I made it nearly to the 30K mark running that 3:00 marathon pace and realized that was about to change. I had to manage the final miles very carefully. My parents, Jon and Colleen were driving ahead and cheering me every 1 to 1.5 miles as I brought it home. They had a cooler and a second, chilled sports drink bottle ready to hand me. This was important because the temperature was climbing and the course had no shade in this final stretch. Crazy thoughts entered my mind like "I wish I could hop in the back of that car, quit the race and get a ride to the finish!". I decided that since I was far ahead of my qualifying time (3:15:00) and pace (7:22/mi), I would try to run just one mile at about 7:22, and then think again. If I could manage this, then I would have given up nothing in my effort to qualify for Boston. Well, this went on successfully from miles 19-22! Here, I slowed again, now running 8 minute miles. Finally in the last 1.5 miles I slowed down to 8:30-9:30/mi pace because 1) I knew my time was several minutes faster than I needed to qualify and 2) the course included a significant climb to the finish line situated on a road leading into an old ski resort (Mt. Tom). Here, at mile 24-25 you either have it in the bag, or you can forget about reaching your goal!

Jon handing out a colder drink for me in the final miles.

The very final stretch includes that hill, but also has a long bend in the road. Glancing at my GPS watch I read mile 25.8, at which time my Dad and Jon jogged downhill to greet me. Logically I knew this thing was just about done, but I could not see the finish line. "Where the hell is the line anyway?!" I asked them. "Just past the ambulance!" Dad replied, as he encouraged me the rest of the way there. I let out a very loud shout as I crossed the line in 3:07:43.

Chatting with race winner Felix Moser, both satisfied with our achievements that day.

As people gathered to celebrate, a race volunteer approached us and, referring to the challenging course and the "Race of Champions" name, he told me "You have to be a champion to finish this marathon!".

Celebrating with Mom, Dad, Jon and Colleen