Part I - sharing magic amid broken traditions
I'm a big fan of traditions. And superstitious about everything when it comes to running the Boston Marathon. So when Adam and I decided that it would be safer for him to stay home this year, I was really bummed for multiple reasons. How was I going to run well without him there? He's my good luck charm!
For months prior to the race, I was really hung up on this. I was running healthy (not PR healthy, but healthy), I knew the course well, but I couldn't shake the notion that maybe my luck was going to run out.
I had to figure out a way to mentally flip the script for myself. A few weeks out from race day, I was out running (shocking!) and had this idea to replicate a really cool moment I'd have the year before.
I was eating breakfast in the hotel lobby last year in Boston a few days before the race and started chatting with a woman who was running her first. A friend of hers had given her a few beaded friendship bracelets that said Run Boston on them to hand out. She gave me one and I had a great race despite the debacle of last year's week leading up to the race (re: emergency kidney stone surgery for Adam). And lest you think I've gone off the rails for thinking some beads and a piece of string makes a race, it obviously was more about everything else it signified for me in that moment.
So I decided that I'd replicate this moment with my own twist. 11 bracelets, some with Run Boston, and the rest with mantras that I love. For my own bracelet for this year's race I chose make your own luck.
My goal was to give the bracelets out over the weekend to random people. I had no plan about this and trusted that it would just make sense when the moment popped up.
I got to Boston Saturday morning just before 10am and dropped my bag off at my hotel. I decided to walk to the expo so I could go past the finish line and take some photos. And as I was walking down Boylston, I spotted Cary who I met at Merrill’s Mile many years ago. He and his teammate got the first 2 bracelets. And I'm not saying it was because of the bracelet, but Cary PR'd this weekend.
The line for bib pickup was a marathon in and of itself, but I had nowhere to be. Joe, who I met in Antarctica, was not too far behind me in line and so I waited for him before we went into the expo. He introduced me to his friends that were running and we all had lunch together. I gave Joe the 3rd bracelet and MJ, Joe's incredible wife, was the recipient of the 4th bracelet. She picked the one that said believe and after a few months of not running due to injury, Joe managed to finish Monday.
Joe needed gels and we went on a shopping adventure to find them. I decided to stand outside Marathon Sports because it was crazy crowded inside. As I was leaning against the stanchions, I started chatting with a guy closer to my parents age. He was running his first Boston Monday, but was quick to point out his wife had run it many times before. As she came walking up, I gave them bracelets 5 and 6. He was so genuinely touched that I was glad our lunch table was ready because I might have started crying happy tears right there.
I went back to my hotel to check in and was super impressed with all the things they did to make runners feel extra special all weekend. We got a goodie bag upon check-in with gels, electrolytes, blister kit, free drink ticket, etc. Though I did my own thing for breakfast, they had a spread for runners on race morning. And after the race, they had balloon arches in the lobby with the entire staff cheering runners as they came hobbling back in. They took a Polaroid of each runner in the balloon arch and put it on a magnet as a keepsake. Lastly, at some point after I finished the race, there was a drawstring bag hanging on my door with more goodies, including a framed photo with my time and name on. You know what else was in the bag? A beaded Boston 26.2 bracelet.
After a shower and rest, I ventured out for dinner at a restaurant around the corner from the hotel. They had Maine Lunch on tap, a ridiculously great beer that I can only get in bottles at home. And though it was not full of carbs, I had to get the prosciutto-wrapped burrata salad. If I'd had a slab of chocolate cake, I probably could've just died after that and gone out on top.
I definitely did not need another drink when I got back to the hotel, but YOLO or something. I bellied up to the bar and had a glass of prosecco. I started talking to a woman next to me who was running and at age 64 was aiming for a 3:45 and had run 3:31 a couple years ago in Chicago. Wow! I realized I'd left my bracelets in my room and hoped she'd still be in the lobby when I got back to give her one. She was (bracelet #7) and when I saw her after the race, she showed me she had worn it.
On Sunday, I went for a shakeout jog in Boston Common and was planning to just laze around the rest of the day. But Vivian (who I met while racing UTMB) was going to the finish line and possibly getting lunch nearby. We never met up that day, but did have dinner after the race.
Spoiler, this is a post-race pic:
But her suggestion pushed me out the door and I had lunch at a place on Newbury Street. As a singleton with no reservation I once again found myself at the bar. I decided to have an Athletic Brewing, aka a non-alcoholic beer, and the guy sitting next to me pointed to his Athletic Brewing shirt and said, "nice choice."
He and I started talking and turns out he's an ultrarunner who has done Western States. We clearly did not run out of things to talk about. I think by now you'll know that he was the recipient of bracelet #8.
After he left, I got to talking to an older couple on the other side of me who asked me if I was running. They were there to support their daughter who'd raised a ton of money for Dana Farber. I asked them if they were going to see her before the race and gave them a bracelet (#9) to give to her. Y'all, this father was so touched by this that he had tears in his eyes. I gave these strangers hugs and popped out as quickly as possible, like some kind of Boston Marathon fairy.
In the middle of all my bracelet gifting, my friend Angelika who I'd met through Halfmarathons.net reached out so we could meet up. I'd saved her a bracelet and hope I could get it to her before the race. That afternoon, she came to my hotel to get one (#10) and we talked for a few hours in the lobby. She brought me chocolate croissants and we shared all of our upcoming crazy adventures.
After she left, I ordered a pizza and then went down to CVS to buy a Snickers for my prerace ritual. I sat in bed eating my pizza and watching The Office until I made my final preparations before nodding off to sleep.
I slept well and woke up before my alarm. Being in wave 3 and right next to Boston Common where the bus loading area is meant that I had so much time in the morning. I drank coffee, ate a muffin, and got dressed. I put my last bracelet on and hoped my bus seatmate would be a willing recipient.
She was a 22 year old running her 1st Boston, 2nd marathon, and her palpable excitement was exactly the energy I needed to be next to. I'm never not excited to be running Boston, but seeing it through the lens of someone's first time reminded me why.
And since I've clearly gone off the deep end with all things being serendipitous in the universe, would you believe that the one bracelet I had left was the one with my own race mantra on it? And I only made one of them with my mantra besides my own!
I let each person choose so it wasn't like I made a conscious choice to have this happen. #11 was exactly what it needed to be. Her already excited state skyrocketed after I gave her the bracelet and I finally started to believe in my own mantra.
Now I just had to go run 26.2 miles. Easy, right?
My seatmate and I parted ways in the Athlete's Village as she was in wave 2. I went to the portapotty and then sat down for a short while before they called my wave 3.
As I neared the corrals, I was slapped hard with emotions. I was happy to be wearing sunglasses because phew, there were major happy tears rolling down my glittered cheeks. I wasn't expecting to feel all the feelings so hard, but in some strange way, I welcomed how much I still was so grateful to be there.
After another portapotty stop, I squeezed in with my fellow corral 2 friends and waited for the gun to go off at 10:50am.
Part II - the race, aka making my own luck
Crossing over the start mat, I waved at the start line cameras and then settled into race mode. It seemed less chaotic than in years past for me. Maybe I'm more patient, maybe I just knew what to expect, maybe I went out easier. In any case, I didn't feel boxed in as much.
As much as I didn't want to, I looked at my splits the first 4 miles because I was trying to not go out too fast. It was warm just standing around and I knew within minutes of running that it was going to be a toasty one. I told myself to back off after the first 4 miles because while there are still plenty of rollers, it does flatten out and I needed to chill.
After that point, I tried to just run by feel and only checked the overall time a few times to make sure I hadn't missed my 30 minute eat timer. Precision and Torq gels choked down every 30 minutes. As I went through Framingham and Natick, miles ~6-12, I truly thought I was running 8-8:15s. I didn't feel bad, but I didn't feel flowy or fast. I tried to keep a few people in my sights around me who seemed to be running a similar pace and stay with them. I saw Allison who I know from IG somewhere in these miles and I tapped her aggressively on the shoulder. She almost fell and I was so relieved I didn't completely knock her over. We ran for a hundred meters or so, but her pace was a little too spicy for me and I yelled at her to go get it.
I high-fived a bunch of kids, smiled at funny signs, and thanked the volunteers at the hydration stops. Sometimes I felt like I was forcing my own hand at this, like, dammit, you will have fun and be grateful! But then I slid into that mode more honestly as the day went on.
I was taking 2 cups at every stop when I could. One to drink (Gatorade or water), one to pour over my head (water only obviously). I'd feel a sense of relief every time I doused myself.
As I came into Wellesley, my intention was to stay out of the chaos and just watch from a safe distance. But then I decided in the moment that if a PW (personal worst) was on the line, why not have the most fun? It was too hot to risk a beer, but I hadn't stopped for a kiss since 2018, my PW and the torrential rain year. So I randomly stopped and nearly broke my nose on this poor girl's cheek because I misjudged my speed smashing into her face. Oops.
I chastised myself for that in the next mile, a nice distraction from the task at hand. And once I came back to the present world, I realized I had been hydrating so well, I had to pee. Not great when you're in the middle of a race, but at least I knew I was hydrated! So I spotted a free portapotty and hopped in. My wet shorts (from the water dousing, not pee!) were a struggle to get off and on, but I didn't lose too much time. And I felt much better!
The Newton Hills were up next and I had no idea where I was at time-wise. So I let my self just take them really easy on the ups and hold an honest pace on the flats and downs. The 2nd and 4th (Heartbreak Hill) had me reduced to a shuffle this year, but I still managed to hoof it up without any walk breaks so I'll take it as a small victory.
I looked for MJ near mile 17, but in my brain fog, forgot she was going to be on the left side and was scanning the wrong crowd. Doh! She got a video of me and my ignorant bliss anyway.
The last few miles I truly had no inkling of my time until my eat timer went off at 3 hours in and I was well past mile 22. I really thought I'd been running 9 minute miles in the hills. Which I'd been okay with, I was going to finish it and found some ways to make it fun. But when the timer went off and I realized 3:30 was still on the table, I actually muttered to myself what the fuck?
I tried to maintain some sort of push while not destroying myself in the last 5k. Get to the last water stop, get your dumb Citgo picture, don't gas out before the Hereford climb, don't start your finish kick until at least the mile 26 sign.
I smiled as I saw the places Adam has cheered me on before, knowing he was following along safely at home.
Coming down Boylston feels like the victory lap of the victory lap. I soaked it all in, looking at the crowds 5, 6 rows deep, tears welling in my eyes (again!), feeling like I'd made my own luck.
3:27:28
Always a privilege, forever grateful to do this thing that is so hard, but gives me so much joy.
Love reading your blog and love you!
ReplyDeleteCarissa, proud to be your dad. Glad you had a fun run in Boston.
ReplyDelete"Get your Citgo picture, don't gas out..." That is SUCH a brilliant play on words there...Great job!
ReplyDeleteAnother wonderful writeup of a great race. Moving. You made your own luck! Jay
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