The week leading up to Boston was a nail-biter with the weather. I was purposely not checking the weather, because I knew the forecast would probably change each day. But other people were checking, and posting on Facebook. And then the B.A.A. started sending out emails saying the weather would be like 2018 and that we should prepare for cold and wet. The night before we left for Boston I was in Walmart agonizing over rain gear options. Do I just stick with the $1 clear flimsy poncho I picked up at the dollar store a few days ago? Do I buy a cheap plastic rain coat that might tear if I'm not careful, or do I buy the $25 dollar rain jacket that looks like exactly what I need, but that I won't want to toss if the rain stops? I finally decided on the rain jacket. It looked the most reliable, and it was looking more and more likely that I would end up wanting to wear it for the entire race anyway.
And then, after 15 hours of car travel, we arrived in Boston. And the weather prediction changed to say that the rain would stop before I started running, and the temperature would get into the 60s. My suitcase was packed with tights, and fleece lined tights, and fleece lined shirts, and all sorts of warm running clothes. Not a single pair of capris or shorts and no tank tops. And only one short sleeve shirt. So, the shirt decision was made easily...from my one choice. And the pants decision, since it was between tights and fleece lined tights. I was wishing I had packed more warm-weather clothes. I had meant to pack for all weather possibilities...but when packing the night before leaving, I was too busy worrying about rain and cold to remember to pack cooler clothes.
We headed to the Expo on Sunday and I perused warmer-weather running clothes, but nothing caught my eye. I did buy a sticker for my car, some race dots (magnetic race-bib clips), and some tie-less shoe laces that I'm looking forward to trying out.
Flat Gretchen. Not really the ideal outfit for the weather, but the best from what I brought with me!
Marathon Morning arrived, and it was POURING the rain, as they say here in Virginia. It was still supposed to stop before I started running, but I needed to stay as dry as possible until then. I put on water resistant pants and my new rain coat to head to the busses. My plan was to take off the pants and jacket and give them to Coby right before boarding the busses, and wear the cheap poncho until race start. But it was absolutely pouring, and there was no way I was going to stay dry while standing in line for the busses if I took off the rain gear I had on. We decided I would just keep them on and they could get donated with the rest of the discarded clothing at Athlete's Village. Me staying dry was more important than saving the nice clothing. Only runners were allowed in line for the busses, so Coby and I parted ways around 8:00, and I went and stood in line for probably 15+ minutes, while the rain continued pouring down. I was wearing an old pair of shoes, and clutching plastic bags with my running shoes, dry socks, snacks, and water. Finally, we got on the busses, and I found a seat. And sat there, getting warmer and warmer. I was wearing arm warmers and a sweat shirt under my rain jacket. I couldn't take off the jacket without a lot of trouble, but I managed to pull off the arm warmers at least.
The rain stopped at some point during the bus ride. I don't know how long the ride was exactly, but it had to have been at least 30 minutes. After getting off the bus, I made my way to the port-a-potty lines, which were all very long. I finally found the end of one of the lines, and joined it. It was slow moving, but I eventually made it to the front. After that, I found a place on the muddy field to lay out a trash bag and sit down. A little bit of snacking, and then they started calling my wave to head towards the corrals, about a mile away. I changed into my compression socks and running shoes, deciding to leave my tights rolled up to my knee for less fabric on my lower legs, dumped everything I had with me except for my soft flask of Tailwind, a water bottle to hold on to until the start, and my rain jacket, which I wore until shortly before start. All the other clothing I had with me, along with the old shoes, went to the donation truck.
In my corral and waiting to start!
After just a bit of standing in my corral, the time came to start, and we were off! Got the text from Coby that my live track was working, and then I just had to focus on the running. The first mile came and went, and I was already peeling off my arm warmers and gloves. (I probably hadn't needed them at all, but I lose circulation in my hands so easily, even above 50 degrees, that I wanted to be absolutely sure I didn't need them before I removed them). I was doing my best to keep the pace easy, and it wasn't really that hard because there were people everywhere and most of them weren't running super fast. The ones who were, were weaving in and out and very nearly tripping lots of people.
I accidentally peaked at the pace when my watch beeped the 2 mile mark. 8:00. Thankfully a time I wanted to see, because if it had been faster or slower I probably would have started playing mind games with myself. But 8:00 seemed like a very good pace to be at early on in the run. I did not look at any other splits throughout the run. The miles seemed to be ticking by fairly quickly though. I had about 3 scoops of Tailwind in my soft flask, and took sips here and there, always near water tables, since it was so super-concentrated. I had to slow down to get water off the tables, and stay slow while drinking it, and then wait for my breathing to regulate before I could get back to pace. Early in the race I stopped at every other water table.
The sun came out in full force around mile 11, and I got even warmer than I already was. I was starting to feel tired, but kept pushing on. I was now getting water at every water station. The crowds throughout the course were phenomenal, and definitely helped me keep up my energy. I eventually got used to the sun and felt ok again. I was feeling pretty strong, nothing was hurting, and I wasn't hitting a wall. I passed the halfway mark, and continued on. Then came the hills. They slowed me down a bit, but I still felt like I was going steady, and I was able to coast on the downhills. I wondered which hill was Heartbreak Hill, and I thought I was watching for signs, but I never did figure it out. (Later, I was told there were giant signs announcing Heartbreak Hill...who knows how I missed them.) Then I was past the hills and still feeling ok, so I started trying to pick up the pace in between water stations.
This is the only photo I could find where my soft-flask wasn't empty, which makes it the only photo from before mile 22-23. I think the crowd was too thick for my number to be identifiable earlier in the race .
Then came the last mile. I wanted to speed up and give the last mile everything, but at this point my body decided it was done. Mentally, I kept telling myself it was only one more mile, so I should be able to give it everything. Physically, my body said heck no, you're going to crawl to the finish. One foot in front of the other, right on Hereford, left on Boylston, the crowd was deafening, and people were passing me telling me to finish strong, but I just kept slogging. Given how I had felt up until the last mile, I was thinking I would finish faster than at Pittsburgh, because I felt so much better. Then the finish line clocks came into view, and I learned that I was in fact running my slowest marathon. That came as a disappointment, but oh well, I managed one final little surge and crossed the line with a smile.
Right on Hereford.
Left on Boylston.
I think this is the moment I saw the time clock...
Finish line so close!
I did it! My longest training run was only 21 miles, and I barely ran more than a marathon each week, but I did it! And I actually felt "good" for most of it!
The road out of the finish line to the family meeting area felt so long, but I kept on moving. I got a bottle of water, which I drained fairly quickly, and kept moving. I got my medal and had my photo taken. I was looking everywhere as I walked, hoping for more water. I declined a heat sheet because I was more hot than cold. I declined a bag of food because it didn't look like it contained anything I would want to eat. Finally, a table with more water. My legs and feet hurt so much, how much longer til I find Coby? And then there he was. I'd been trying so hard not to cry, but the adrenaline let-down after a marathon always makes me cry, and though I had fought it off through that long walk, I couldn't fight it off any longer once Coby had his arms around me. He led me out of the crush of people, and we found a wall to lean against so I could drink my recovery drink and switch my wet shirt for a dry sweatshirt. And then it started raining again. My rain jacket was gone of course, but Coby gave me his. I couldn't have told you where we were or how to get to the bus that would take us back to the hotel, but Coby had it all figured out and all I had to do was let him lead me.
I was a bit disappointed about my time of 3:34:37, but I was so happy about how well the run had gone, and proud of myself for running a smart race and not wearing myself out too soon. After mulling it over for awhile, I finally realized why my time was slower despite my feeling better. It was all the time I spent slowing down at water tables. I got water from so many of them, and I can't hold my pace while drinking water, and all of that time had to have added up to quite a bit. After seeing many stories from people who got dehydrated and either were unable to finish this run, or finished significantly slower than me, I am glad that I did the right thing and stayed hydrated! The time is so much less important than staying strong and not ending up in a medical tent. And in the end, I was actually rather relieved that I did not re-qualify for Boston. If I had, I would have been tempted to return next year when some of my friends are going. Now, the decision has been made for me, and I will be enjoying a much-needed break from marathons. I would love to run Boston again someday, but it won't be next year. I'm excited to get back to work on my forever goal of PR-ing the half marathon instead!
Post-race party at Fenway! Coby was super excited that we got to walk around the field on the brick dust. We took photos in front of the Green Monster and in the dugout.
