Paying the Price (again)

They say that 'old dogs can't learn new tricks' and perhaps in my case that just might be true. I accomplished my goals in yesterday's Boston marathon of having fun and enjoying the experience but paid the price in terms of going out too fast (again) and dying even before the hills (again) and crawling home to the finish at a survival shuffle (again). But I have to say I had a wonderful time doing it and as soon as the pain in my legs subsides I'll be planning how to repeat the experience again in another year (maybe).


My 5k splits over the past 6 years are remarkably consistent in their pattern and general slowing right from the get go. As Thomas just said, "Mike, you still don't know how to run Boston." He's right, I typically get to the 1/2 way point and fall off the cliff in the same manner each year. Note that the red-line in my greaph was for 2004 was the heatwave with temperatures in the 80'ies at the start.
You can read all about our journey to Hopkinton in Thomas's post but here we dropped him off at his corral about 45 minutes before the start with plenty of room to get to the front. The weather was on the cool side and we were shivering until in the corrals with lots of other warm bodies around.

I met up with my cousin Jerry and some other running friends from New Brunswick in my corral and look to be ready to rumble in this picture. When asked what my pacing plan was, I replied "going out slow at 8:00 pace and save it for the hills and the end". Ha! That didn't last long. After a 1st crowded mile in 7:53, the next few were 7:23, 7:30, 7:24, 7:39, 7:36 and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. It felt absolutely like jogging and with people streaming by me I kept looking at my Garmin in unbelief.
Just before the 10 mile mark I hooked up with this lady (I can hear Andrew raising his eyebrows already). With her green singlet and flaming red hair, I though she just had to be from Ireland which was why I started to talk to her but it turned out she was Canadian. We had a great conversation for a few miles and I found out she is running her marathon in honor of her mother who died suddenly this past Easter weekend. Her mother who was also a marathoner was a great inspiration to her in the way she lived and her faith in God that she passed on to her. I stayed with her until the Wellesley girls scream tunnel where I got distracted doing my video etc. The half went by shortly after in 1:40, predicting a 3:20 with even splits (ya, right).

Shortly thereafter, as per usual the wheels started to fall off and holding anything even close to an 8:00 pace became more than I could manage. How you can go from running easily at 7:30's to struggling to hold 8:30 is just beyond me. Mile 15, 16, 17 came in at 8:13, 7:46 and 8:32 to start the 1st of the Newton Hills at the fire station. My legs were now toast before even starting the 1st 'official' hill and the rest of the race became a simple struggle to maintain forward motion. It's hard to explain the feeling exactly of what the legs felt like at this point, a soreness that slowly increased to a throbbing pain, quads that became rock hard requiring massaging on the run, calves ready to cramp at any point, and a near overwhelming desire to stop and walk.

Miles 18, 19, 20, 21 in 8:41, 8:15, 8:35, 8:58 as I navigated the Newton hills and Heartbreak with only the final downhill miles left to complete. By this time my quads were so shot I was just putting one sorry foot in front of the other and hundreds, even thousands of people streamed past me. The last miles were even worse with splits from 8:30 to 9:17 in the final very painful mile. However, I still found time to take pictures and video clips of the crazy, crazy crowds and even the final glorious steps through the finish and relief to finally be able to stop.
I met up with my cousin Jerry at the finish. He ran a MUCH smarter race (his 1st Boston) letting me go out like crazy and then passing me at the 25k mark then finishing in a strong 3:27 as planned.
Thomas and I met up at the buses and then made our way to the Boston Commons at a nice slow walk. After a coffee and doughnut, we then both tried one of the locally famous Fried Dough from a streetside vendor. MMMMM, heartstopping fat, sugar, blueberries and more sugar!!! Thomas had one too ;-)
And then on 'home' to our wonderful hosts for a fine meal, great drinks, good company and certainly more good times. The memories of this fine weekend will only be good ones. I feel so lucky and blessed.

Have a wonderful week! Signing out from Boston!