i did it.

I did it. I ran the Boston Marathon. After several years, a handful of attempts, and a humid day in upstate New York back in 2013, I finally got to run the most historic and competitive race in the world. And what an experience it was. 

Come April 20th, I was ready to tackle the 26.2 miles from Hopkinton to Boylston. I put the miles, hills, and freezing mornings in. I got advice from my sisters, teammates, and friends on how to "not go out too fast" and "watch out for the downhills". I was excited for the crowds of spectators, kisses from Wellesley girls, and even those raucous Red Sox fans. 

hanging out at the expo.

On a beautiful spring morning, I accompanied some friends and teammates who were also running, from NYC to Boston. I spent the weekend carbo-loading, buying stuff at the expo, shaking out my legs, and hanging around the finish line. As each hour passed, and Monday morning approached, I checked the weather to see if there were any changes in the forecast. There weren't. So there it was: chilly, windy, and rainy. Perfect running weather. Did I mention those winds were headwinds and not tailwinds? Yeah, bring it on. At least it wasn't 80. Or a Nor'easter. 

Each morning in the week leading up to the marathon, I woke up at 5 or 6am. Well Marathon Monday was no different. For once, I could sleep in the morning before a race. I was in wave 2 and was slotted to start at 10:25am. Yes, I had to get to Hopkinton, but I could have slept in to like 7. If my nerves had allowed it. So I got ready and made my way to Boston Common to catch the bus. So that rain? Well it was predicted to start at 11am. Which would be a few miles into the race. Great. Except it started while I was on the bus. That was not in the plan. I didn't bring trashbags or anything else to keep me dry. Fortunately for me, it stopped before we got to the starting area. 

On arrival, I bee-lined it to the porta potty. I ate some food, drank some water, and tried to stay off my feet. I ran into a fellow BoMF volunteer and we chatted until it was time for another porta potty run. At this point we parted ways, and I made my way to the corral. Except I wanted to go to the bathroom ONE more time. Of course at this point, I'm slightly stressing. Boston is a big race. Lots of runners milling around in a pretty decent size start village. After finding an empty line and getting everything out of my system, in a slightly rushed state, I continued on my way. I had been stripping off my throwaway clothes on my journey to the start line, while taking in all the 'good lucks' from the Hopkinton residents. It's highly unusual to see anyone other than runners and volunteers before starting a race of this caliber, so it was a pretty cool send-off. I finally made it to corral 4 and fortunately found my friends pretty quickly. A couple of minutes later, we were off!

My friend and I made a plan to run in the 7:30-7:35/mile range for the first half of the course. We did a pretty good job to sticking to our plan, especially with all those downhills. A few miles were a little faster than I would have liked, but figured it would even out in the end. Even though it's apparently tough to negative split on this particular course. I enjoyed all the spectators in Hopkinton, Ashland, Framingham, Natick and Wellesley as we approached the half marathon point. All the while getting slightly wetter with the drizzly rain that started shortly after I started running. Spectators embraced the weather with tents in their front lawns and beverages in hand. I heard Sweet Caroline blasting from a few speakers. As we approached Wellesley, I could hear all the screaming girls as they were giving out kisses. I couldn't help myself but move a bit closer. But no kisses. Maybe if they were cute guys. After the college, we approached downtown Wellesley and shortly thereafter I heard my name being screamed by my own personal spectators--my sisters and friends. Of course I was super happy to see them. I was also happy since I hit 1:38:41, which was right on target to finish with a 3:15. 

After the half marathon point, things were still going pretty well. But then I lost my friend going down a hill, probably around mile 16. She's really good at them, so I wasn't too concerned. I figured I'd catch her on an uphill since I did such a great job of practicing them. I had her in sight for a little while, but at some point I completely lost her. 

half marathon point. 

Based on my splits, things literally and figuratively started going downhill at about mile 17. My split wasn't too far off, so there was no cause for alarm. Mile 18 was a little slower, but then mile 19 was faster. Not at target pace, but at least in the 7:40 range. However after that point, every mile I would run was at least 30 seconds off my pace. I can't pinpoint where I was exactly, but there was a point where I knew I wasn't hitting my goal time. And another point later on, where I knew I wasn't going to PR. My muscles were tired and sore. It's always hard to assess what went wrong. Did I overtrain? Did I spend too much on my feet the days leading up the race? Did I not get enough sleep? Did the cold, wind, and rain catch up to me? Should I have worn more clothing? Well at mile 20, none of this mattered. I had to power through and finish the rest of the marathon. 

mile 25.2.

So as I made my way through Newton, Brookline, and eventually to the last mile in Boston, I tried to enjoy as much as I could. I took in the spectators, the views, and the experience of running a race I've been waiting years to do. Even with the pain I was going through. I had to keep reminding myself I was running THE Boston Marathon. Just try to enjoy what I could and avoid as many puddles as possible. 

The spectators got me through to the end. I saw a few of my teammates out there, and at mile 25.2 (one mile to go), I saw my sisters again, with my aunt. I steadily made my way down Commonwealth in a little bit of a haze. Suddenly, I was turning right onto Hereford. I was almost there. I heard some more friends calling out my name and finally turned onto Boylston. Yes, the finish line was in sight. But it was SO far away. I hadn't realize how far in my wanderings over the weekend. Maybe that was a good thing? With one last cheer from the spectators and my friends, I crossed the finish line. I almost cried with all the emotions that overcame me. But was so thrilled that I couldn't stop smiling. And then I experienced some mild hypothermia. The volunteers were amazing though. They all made sure the runners were ok. Shivering and with chattering teeth, I slowly made my way to the hotel to get showered and warmed up. 

after the finish.

My finish time of 3:24:52 (7:49 pace) was off my goal by about 10 minutes. Seems so drastic. However, my time was my 2nd fastest finish. So I can't complain. I finally ran Boston. And now I'm plotting my return. Of course I had to celebrate and enjoy some Sam Adams marathon brew. While kissing my medal. 

drinking some marathon brew.

So it's been 3+ weeks since I crossed the finish line. I still can't believe I did it. But I did. I chased down the unicorn. And my supporters have been so great throughout this entire journey. So thanks to them for believing in me. 

I chased down my unicorn.