Boston Marathon Recap - Lisa Version

Boston Marathon 2012 

This will be one of those marathons that you will never forget, even though I wish I could. My story is not as dramatic as Miki’s but it is as painful and one of the worst experiences in my life.

The race weekend started out fine. Went to the expo, heard about the option to defer, but if you’ve traveled to Boston, you’re not going to defer.  On Sunday, Joe (my husband) and I went to a Red Sox game, which allowed me to stop obsessing over the weather for a few hours.

Everyone that knows me is aware that I don’t like running in hot weather.  When the forecast started to show temperatures in the 80’s, I got really nervous.  I was obsessing over the weather for a week leading up to the marathon.  Was hoping the forecasts were wrong, but it got worse.  Running a marathon in 90F weather, with no cloud cover and a course that doesn’t offer much shade (which I didn’t know until I started running), is that wise? The answer is NO!  However, I thought I could tough it out, which I almost always do. I also reminded myself that I had done two Chicago marathons in similar conditions. There were two big differences though; the start time of the race (7:30am in Chicago), and the fact that all training for Boston had been done in mostly cold weather.

Race morning – woke up on time, and headed to the buses (about a 1.5 mile walk). It took about 50 minutes before I got on the bus, and then we were off.  Like Miki said, there was an accident along the way so we were crawling to Hopkinton.

The waiting time in Hopkinton was pretty short; waiting in line to the porta johns, one final quick bite to eat and then off to the start.  I was already sweating and it was 80F at that point. If somebody had offered me a deferral at that point, I would have accepted and gotten on a bus back to Boston. 

The gun went off and it took a few minutes to pass the start line (very crowded in Hopkinton).  Decided to start at 5-10 seconds slower than my original plan. That held up for the first 5 miles, and then my body started betraying me.  I started walking at mile 6, not for long, but decided to take time to get enough water and Gatorade.  Most of the water was poured over my head.  Started running again, but the sun and the heat was just too much.  My body would not obey me and I felt nauseous.  I walked next to a woman who said something to me, and I told her that I didn’t think I would make it to the finish. That was at mile 8, and I had another 18 miles to go!!  She looked at me and said Yes, you’re going to make it, we both will.  I was too hot to even comment, but started running again.  I was looking for some sign of an offer of going back to Boston by bus, but didn’t see anything.  The medical tents were filled with people and I thought as long as I can move, and don’t pass out, I guess I will have to keep going.  So I decided to do a walk/run.  Run as much as I could between the mile markers and walk through the water/Gatorade stops.  I was too nauseous to take my gels, and the Gatorade was warm. Was developing a headache and my mouth was so dry, even though I had water at every mile.  Also took water from spectators along the course.  I was actually looking forward to the Newton hills because it would allow me to just walk and maybe cool down slightly. I realized afterwards that even though I was struggling so badly in the heat, I wasn’t really sweating. That is very unlike me, I usually sweat a lot (when running) but not on this horrible day. This was just another sign of heat exhaustion.

Along the way I saw one person getting CPR, many people down with cramps and people just struggling. Have never seen so many people walk in a marathon, early on, and this was Boston!  I ran next to miss Hawaii for several miles, and tried to get away from a lady that had poop running down her legs. I thought it was gel first, but no, that wasn’t it. I felt bad for the person meeting her at the finish line….

What kept me going was the fact that Joe was waiting at mile 25, and that we had to get out of the hotel room by 4pm and then catch the flight back to NY.  I had told him to keep an eye on his phone because I was really nervous about possibly passing out in the heat.

Once we got to Boston, I saw some familiar faces. I passed Julio Aguirre (who was walking too), and Marco from GNY.  Then I caught up with Kathy, John and Suleiman.  It was so nice to see some familiar faces.  I remember John saying; “it’s a matter of survival, but it’s only 2 miles to go”.  At that point, 2 miles was too much for me.  But I kept going, and then I finally saw Joe.  I ran up to him, gave him a hug (he has never experienced that before during a race) and just said ‘the worst marathon ever, not sure I was going to make it’.  The people around him started cheering me on and made me start running again. I was able to run all the way to the finish from there. The turn on Boylston Street was a relief but that damn Finish line is sooo far away.  200 yards is an eternity when your legs are barely moving.  But I did it!  When I saw the time; 4:17, I couldn’t believe it. I had stopped clocking the miles at mile 8 and hadn’t much looked at my watch. I really didn’t care. It was of course a huge disappointment, but during the circumstances I’m glad that I finished and didn’t end up in a hospital (like some other 250 people).  I have to say that the spectators were amazing.  So many people out with their garden hoses, water, Gatorade, oranges etc.  And they were loud and cheered us on even though many of us looked so miserable.  They were great!

My Boston streak is not good. Two bad marathons. I think I need to try it once more, but it won’t be next year.  It will be sold out before I get a chance to apply.  My next marathon will be in Philadelphia in mid November.  I think that will be a guaranteed cold day, but who knows…

Boston Marathon Recap - Miki Version

Lisa's version is coming soon!!!

Training for Boston had been hard.  Many, many 60 mile weeks.
Many, many vomit inducing mile repeats.  I was gunning for 3:24:00. 

Then it started to all fall part.  A quad strain 4 weeks to race, followed by a stress reaction and a tibila strain 2 weeks to the race.  Then 2 days to race, the ultimate sucker punch.  Predicted high of 90F for race day.  Oh, and I had cramped my left hip 1 day before the race on my pre-race “loosen it up” run.

As I sat in the yellow school bus listening to Breaking Benjamin (cuz I don’t talk to strangers), I was reassessing my goal.  Then another punch in the face...an accident on Mass Turnpike.  At this point, I should’ve just read the signs.  I’m not religious or anything, but I am super-duper superstitious. 

When I finally got to Athlete’s Village, it was already way crowded.  I stood in the hot sun for a washroom.  At some point I get the obligatory “MIKI” Sharpied on my arms.  Next thing I know, I’m shuffling towards the start, already sweaty with heat.

I find a bottle of water and I pour it all over myself – and we’re off.

I don’t remember much of the race...nothing funny happened either.  It was all pain and desperation.  

I remember vomiting for the first time somewhere after mile 10.  I was in shock.  This was the first time I had done that in any race and everything I had eaten all came out.  All of my precious calories were gone, spilled out on hot asphalt.  I had two Clif Gels left, so I took one and moved along. 

As I crawl through the course, I remember this part being really cold when I ran the course back in March…But not today.  It felt like a hot cast iron pan.  My shoes getting stuck on parts of sticky asphalt mends. 

I remember the high pitched screaming at Wellesley gave me such a head ache, and by the time I hit mile 14, came vomit number two.  At this point, I hit the medical tent.  I was absolutely horrified that I was uncontrollably vomiting – twice, now.

At the medical tent, the beds were full of “Red Bibs” (these are all the sub elite runners – 2:45 and faster marathoners).  I didn’t feel so bad when I saw that some of the best were dying just like me!  Seeing that the medical tent was full, I helped myself to a bag of ice cubes and took off.  Loss of 3 minutes.

Mile 16.  I turned the corner at the “Firehouse”, facing the first hill out of the three “giant hills” of Newton.  I remember enjoying the water tunnel.  I said to myself, “You can do this!” and ran up the first hill, only to vomit again as I crested. 

I pulled myself together, walked, cried.  Then came hill number two.  I wanted to call it quits.  Later, I will hear that this is where Mutai dropped out of the race due to cramping. 

I had to get to that third hill.  My training partner, who ended up not making the race due to stress fracture injury was going to be at mile 20.  I had to get there.  I’m running for her, I’m running for all those who wanted yet couldn’t. 

As I struggled up the final hill, I curse as 3 weeks ago, I zoomed over it in 40F weather, and declared it “easier than Harlem Hill”.  It’s such a struggle today.  I’m delirious, cursing out loud at everything and everybody.   Cursing up the hill, I see a sign; “GO MIKI PURPLE PEOPLE EATER!!”  I said to myself, “Huh, funny, there’s another Miki in the race”.  Then I realized, it’s for me!!!  I made a U turn, hugged my friend, took a picture, and with renewed energy, I pushed hard over Heartbreak Hill.

Then it happened. My vision narrowed.  I heard nothing but my heart beat.  I vomited again, this time, nothing come out.  I felt someone carry me and say something to me.  It didn’t register.  Next thing I know, I’m in yet another medical tent with iced cloth over me. 

Everything sounded like Charlie Brown – “Wha-wha-wha-whawhawha Support Vehicle”. 

SUPPORT VEHICLE?!?!?!?!

I stood up, and declared, “MY HUSBAND IS AT MILE 22!” I got pushed back down.  A nurse measures my heart rate and body temperature.  As my head got clearer it finally registered what she was saying, “Sweetie, you’re done.  I don’t want you to hurt yourself.  The support vehicle will be here in a few minutes”. 

Then it just came out.  With talk-to-the-hand-motion and all.  “Bitch, please.  Don’t Sweetie me!  I have to finish this fXXker!”  (you can take the girl out of a disco, but you can't take disco out of a girl, even in near death.)

Well this was  a bad idea.  I get held against my will by a fat EMT.  (Note:  Don’t call medical tent nurse a bitch, next time)  I’m so tempted to use my Karate skills on this EMT.  I bet he can’t take an upper cut to the solar plexuses.  I start  plotting my escape; the opportunity strikes in a form of a Red Bib with vomit on his singlet. The fat EMT and the nurse go tend him.  I escape.

I had lost nearly 8 minutes at this tent. 

I curse as I speed down Heartbreak Hill and turn the corner towards Boston.  (I think the street was called Beacon?)  Then I see my husband.  FINALLY!!!!!  I give him a big vomit breath kiss and kick onwards.  This was the first time he had seen me run a race.  I think it might be his last.

At the sight of Citgo sign, I vomit again.  I start laughing.  A nice volunteer man asks me if I’m OK, and I nod and move on.  He shouts, “There’s a medical tent quarter mile up!!”  I give him the finger.  (one day, Karma will get me)

Some point past Fenway, I remember seeing two skinny little things in purple that I decided to pass and succeeded to pass.  I just needed to defend my title, “purple people eater”. 

I finish.  I let a final vomit out for good luck.  I get cat litter on my shoes.  Great.   

Oh, a final icing on the cake.  To my horror, a guy in front of me collapsed, fainted and pooped himself.  I have to jump around this mess in my tired legs. 

I’m over four hours!!  But, hey, I walked a bunch, dry heaved a bunch, vomited a bunch.  My Garmin says my Moving Time was under 4, so I’m OK with that.  AND, I had lost 7lbs that day.  BEST.DIET.EVER.

From start to finish, this race was not worth it.  I’m giving it two big thumbs down.  I don’t know why I even did it.  Oh, yea, cuz of the CURSE (more on this another day).

On my way back, I sent an e-mail out to some friends with below:

Training for Boston Marathon: $400.
Gear, hotel, gas bought to get to Boston Marathon: $1000

Vomiting 5X, finishing, getting a tiny blue-n-yellow medal: Priceless SO F---ING NOT WORTH IT

Scotland 10K Race Report

Scotland 10K is a fantastic, speedy race because we go clock-wise in Central Park.  You clear the annoying West Side bumps while you still got juice in your legs, power through the gentler incline on the Harlem Hills East, then it’s mostly flat.  From there you sprint down Cat Hill, slide down east side of the lower loop and kick up the “annoying Tavern on the Green Hill” to the goal.  With front-loaded hills and big declines on the tail end, Scotland 10K is a fun course to really test your legs!

It was also our first team race, so I was eagerly waiting for our results Saturday.  Then came the e-mail.

Our Fearless Leader sent out a copy of the results page, and lo and behold, I see something insane. 

Net Time 39:00

Wha….?! What happened here?!  Who is this Addis?  I can’t even pronounce his last name!  I think I may have joined the wrong team!  I thought we were bunch of social runners…who knew we were high level running group.  Blue Bib or not, I’m terrified…!  What did I get myself into?

Well, all kidding aside, we had a fantastic first official race as a team!  Our 18 & under segment, headed by Mr. Wolderhawariat (yo, we need to give him a truncated nickname in the fashion of “Meb” or “Ritz”) did incredibly well.  Ms. “I’m racing back into shape” Kathy cracking the 10^th place in her age group.  Ms. “I didn’t really race this one” Maria also came in at a respectable 20^th, placing her above 70^th percentile mark.  Most importantly, she beat her old “boss” by 14 seconds.  Did she show them or what?!

As a team, we popped up on Team Ranking section in various places on the Awards section.  Yea, that’s right, we are actually famous!!! Weeeeeee!

Tom was second fastest of the men in our team, beating out the Maharaja.  Tom had a PR Race, AGAIN.  He’s getting faster every race for some reason.  What’s his secret?  If he keeps this up, in a few more races, he’s going to earn him self a truncated nick name too!  Like…”T”...which would make him....Mr. T.   Ha!

But dear Mr. T, beating Mr. Maharaja will not be good.  If we piss our overlord too much, we won’t get good deals on our singlets…  Running is a pricey sport.  We need all the discounts we can get!!

We did incredibly well, and Ms. Maria sent me this ominous e-mail:

We have an 18-years old member now!  Alem will bring two more, according to Chris.  Man, we are going to be good!

So Central Park, are you ready for some AODF?! 

We’re going to have an army of 18 & Unders kicking your butt!!!!

+Chris's Leg is ready to kick butt+

Colon Cancer 15K

News alert!! They changed the Colon from an ominous looking circular tube to a semi-circle underneath a tent!

oops...

No, I meant, "NEWS ALERT"!!

Kathy wins 1st in her 18 & Under age segment!!!

I don't know what it is with these young chicks, but they keep on saying, "I didn't really race it." When I spoke with Kathy post-race, she said, "Well, I haven't really done any speed work since the summer, so I'm just trying to race myself back into shape." And yet, she wins.

Me, I have been training hard for the last 18 weeks, a routine that consists of 2 speed work sessions, 1 Lactate Threshold run, 1 long run, 2 cycling sessions, 4 weight training sessions, and a Pilates class to boot, a week! In addition to a diet program, VO2 Max Tests, etc etc...and I barely made it into top 10 in my age segment. I was 6th.

Anyways, here's my Race Report:

The race seemed like a bad April Fool's joke. I was given a BLUE bib in a co-ed race. This has never happened before. I checked my name tag twice. Yep, I'm in Blue. Yep, I'm frightened.

Race day, I go to the Blue Corral, only to see 90% dudes. Short dudes, bald dudes, tall dudes. There're no fat dudes, naturally.

I stick towards the back of the corral, near the red/blue border line because I'm scared. A tall woman in yellow singlet gives me a stare down. I'm now even more scared. I want to apologize for being there. For some reason, she won't stop staring. Another chicky-poo comes in, and she stares...

Maybe it's my outfit. It's 40F or so, I'm in that idiot gear - leg warmers, shorts, T-shirt, and arm warmers. When you combine leg & arm warmers, you look like complete idiot, unless you run 4 minute miles. And it doesn't help that I'm wearing a Canadian jersery...Maybe cuz I'm shorter and fatter than them. I feel BULLIED!!!

The MC comes on and says that the course had some last minute changes and we're now doing 3 loops of the Park. I'm like, "OHHHH YEA, BRING IT ON, Sistah!!" because I'm into abusing myself. I actually check to see if I have enough Gu on me. So it's a little secret that I'm severely disappointed when she says it's an April Fool's joke. LAME.

When the horn goes off I'm sucked into this super fast paced blue corral race. Racing up the Cat Hill, my left shin goes "squish". OOPS. Meh, I got two weeks to Boston, I can do this, I say to myself...more on this later.

First mile whizzes by and my Garmin beeps out a 7:12. Oh-o.

Linkin Park goes thru my head:

Cover up your face
You can't run the race
The pace is too fast
You just won't last

Yep, I'm emo like that.

So I slow down and find my race. As I reach Engineer's Gate, the Maharaja himself cheers me on! Then I see our fearless leader too! And that friendly dude from CPTC! I must really stick out like a sore thumb in the crowd... I get lots of random "Go Canada, EH!!" shouts too.

At 102nd transverse I notice the bald dude with the Jane Fonda headband that elbowed me at mile 2. He's walking. I grin. I live for these moments.

Eventually I'm at that point of the race where you are racing/intimidating/cursing/cheering/annoying a random dude that you just can't seem to shake.

For me, it's almost always a lone FrontRunner queen. There was one in Toronto, there was one in Celebrate Life, and now here is one again. Each time it's a different queen, but it's almost always a FrontRunner. This queen is fast on the flats but tends to slow down on the uphill. I tend to be fast on uphill because I'm all Contador and sh!t, but slower on flats and downhill...

We play "I beat you!", "No, I beat you!" game all the way to the finish. But I beat him, since the finish is a slight uphill. He congratulates me at the finish line. I live for these moments too.

...now afterwards, my left shin is burning. I may have a stress fracture. I can't walk. I hobble over to the medicine tent and get ice. I was supposed to do another 6 miles, but I call my coach and tell him I just can't. He's concerned. I'm concerned.

But you know, after seeing Dathan Ritzenhein fall apart into a sobbing mess on screen for his 8 SECOND loss after an amazing come back and got shut out of an Olympic spot after YEARS of training, waiting one more year for Boston is nothing.

I'm hoping it's just a shin splint, but who knows. Boston will always be there.