How do I start this blog? Every time I think about the Boston Marathon I begin to feel overwhelmed because I’ve been thinking about this for the last year. Ever since I qualified for the event at the Toronto Marathon (May 2016) where I ran a 3:34:38 (the BQ cut off for my age group was 3:40:00). Since then, I knew I had an incredible opportunity to run in what is considered to be the most prestigious road race in the world.
As each piece of email and postal mail trickled in confirming my acceptance, and then providing instructions on what to do leading up to race day, I gradually made my way to Boston for race day Monday, April 17, 2017, after many months of training.
I stayed in Boston for three nights/four days (April 15-18) so that I could try to take in as much of the festivities as possible. When I woke up in downtown Boston on Sunday morning, the first thing I did was go for an easy jog around the Boston Commons to shake out my nerves. After a quick shower and breakfast, I made my way down to Boylston Street and Copley Square to check out the historic finish line area.
People were buzzing everywhere, full of nervous energy and excitement. It was no exaggeration to say that you could really feel the history under your feet when walking down this road. There was so much anticipation in the air I had goosebumps despite the warm breeze.
From there I made my way to the race expo where I picked up my bib (18337) and race kit. With my coveted Boston race bib finally in my possession I was ready to run the Boston Marathon the next day.
The Boston marathon route doesn’t look so difficult on paper. Some people might even suggest its an easy course since its a net downhill, but trust me, it is not easy. While it is significantly downhill at the beginning, and the final stretch, there are many rolling hills and uphill sections between them, that hit you late in the course, when your reserves are dwindling, and your quads are already tired and overworked.
Boston weather in early April is unpredictable at best. Two weeks before the race I saw pictures of snow on the ground, but all weekend I was there it was scorching hot. Sunday the weather rose to a high of 29C (84F), and on race day Monday the forecast was for a high of 22C (72F), much too hot for marathoners. The ideal temperature for marathons is 11-13C (50-55F). A little cool for spectators, but when you’re running long and hard, the cooler it is the better, trust me.
I had been advised to pack extra layers to wear in the morning and ditch them in the donation bins before the start of the race, but it was already 18C (64F) when I left for the shuttle bus at 8am so I didn’t even bother with them. Not a great weather forecast for a Canadian who trained through the bitterly cold winter months to get here, but I was ready to run through anything that morning.
I boarded the shuttle bus and sat next to a guy from Texas who was eating his breakfast of boiled plain rice. He was making polite chit chat, but all I could think about was how far out we were being bused on the highway. It took us an hour to get out to the Athletes' Village - holy crap, I had to run the whole way back. It suddenly seemed really really far away back into downtown Boston... Had I really already done this distance twice last year back in Toronto? Of course I did, and I was going to do it again this morning. That was the plan anyway.
The Athletes' Village was set up in Hopkinton near the official start of the marathon route. It was a large open field filled with tents, sponsored food/drink suppliers and port-a-potties. Lots and lots of port-a-potties, each with long lines meandering in front of each of them. I sipped on an endurance gatorade while I waited in line, it at least gave me something to do. A race volunteer was making the rounds, and I got her to write my name on my left upper arm (I had my name marked on my right arm before leaving the hotel - the race bibs are numbered but not named, unless you’re an elite, and its the only way to get the spectators to yell your name for motivation as you run past, which is really really helpful on long runs).
The wait wasn’t as long as I thought it would be, and before I knew it, we were being herded into our starting corrals - wave 3, corral 3. This was really happening! The starting gun sounded and we were off. We were all packed pretty tight at first, and it was hard to start running at the pace I wanted without stepping on other peoples heels, so I had to keep it easy for the first kilometer.
I was hoping to pace a 4:45/km for the first half of the race, then slow down to a 5:30/km pace on the hilly sections later on, before pushing the last of my energy on the finishing stretch down Boylston, but the thick crowds and hot temperatures were making it difficult to stick with my race strategy early on. It was not going to be an easy race.
By the half-way point I knew I wasn’t going to run a PB (personal best) that day, it was just too hot and hilly, but I refused to let that dampen my spirits - I was finally running the Boston Marathon!! So I made a mental switch to just enjoy the run and let the energy of the crowds, the screams of the spectators and the flow of the other runners take me where I was heading, regardless of the time it would take to get me there.
The crowds along the race route were like nothing else I’ve ever experienced before. It felt like everybody in Boston and the communities along route 135, all came out to cheer on the runners. It was such an incredible experience, its hard to describe in words to be completely honest. Race volunteers, military and police officials, and just ordinary citizens were lining the streets, yelling out encouraging words, handing out slices of juicy watermelon, oranges & bananas, paper towels, kleenex, sticks with vaseline (to help with chafing issues). This was all besides the official water, gatorade and Clif energy gel stations.
It was so hot, I dumped glasses of water over my head every few kilometers after having a few swallows of gatorade at each station. I even grabbed handfuls of ice and tucked them down my sports bra whenever I could. Mercifully, race officials opened up several fire hydrants and I ran through every single one I saw, they were fantastic. Like my childhood running through sprinklers.
The crowds along the entire route were so supportive and entertaining. There were many creative signs, most being political in nature: “Boston Strong”, “You’re running better than our government!” and “If Trump can run, so can you!” were numerous along the route. My favourite was a poster that read “This is no time for Walken” which sported a picture of Christopher Walken beside it.
My favourite stretch of the race route had to be Wellesley College. All the students lined up along the roadside and held their hands outstretched ready for high fives from the marathoners. I ran down the road giving out hundreds (honestly hundreds, no exaggeration) of high fives to screaming fans all yelling my name that they read off my magic-markered arm. I imagined it must be what wrestling superstars feel like when they’re running down to the ring for their big matches. All I needed was my own theme music. It felt freaking awesome!
By this time, I had reached the famous Newton Hills, and as much as the people were cheering me on, I was beginning to slow down. I was hoping to take these hills at a pace of 5:30/km, but it ended up being closer to 6:30/km. Its not that the hills were super steep, but it was over 25km into the race and my quads were beginning to burn out. But I persevered through the next 10km of rolling hills and made it to the top of Heartbreak Hill with a bursting heart and a cry of joy. I was now 34km into a 42.2km marathon. I was getting there.
The rest of the race was downhill from here, but I have to admit, I had never been so tired in a race in my whole life as I was right at that moment. I was physically exhausted, my quads and calves burned, but I was still excited and very determined to finish the course strong. I managed to pick my pace back up to a 6:00/km by the 40km mark and then I let my mental strength and roar of the crowds carry me home. I finally saw the famous CITGO sign and I knew I was close.
I remember turning the two sharp corners onto Boylston Street and then I was overcome with joy as I saw the finish line in the distance. The yellow BAA unicorn logo surrounded by the iconic blue archway. It was beautiful, like an oasis in the desert, the end was near. I remember turning my head and exclaiming to the woman running next to me on my left “There it is! We’re so close now!” And she smiled back at me, she didn’t have to say a word, all the emotion was written on her face.
I ran down Boylston street with a renewed burst of speed and a heart full of joy. I pumped my right arm to spur myself on the last few hundred meters and I raised my arms in the air as I crossed the finish line. I was so happy in that moment. I did it!
It took me 4:09:26 to run the Boston Marathon. And what a fantastic run it was. It was not my fastest run (my BQ time was actually much better), but it was definitely the most memorable run I have ever done. I can’t think of anything that compares to how I felt running Boston.
Part of what makes Boston so special is the history of the event, and this, the 121st running of the Boston Marathon was special for a significant historical reason. It was the 50th anniversary of the first time a woman had officially run and finished the race. Kathrine Switzer faced much harder opposition than hills and bad weather on that Patriots Day back in 1967. The course director even tried to rip off her race bib and drag her off the course, but other race participants protected her and she finished the course despite the incident. On this day, 50 years later, she donned her famous bib # 261 and ran the course again, at age 70.
The BAA officially retired bib # 261 this year, but I spotted many women running with that number drawn on their backs in solidarity and respect to all the ground work she laid for all of us women running today. Thank you Kathrine for your strength and bravery. You are fearless, we are fearless.
All this is what makes Boston so special. I get emotional just writing this. The way the entire community comes out to support this event. To show strength and courage whether its about a gruelling physical test of endurance, an act of defiance to change societal norms, or to fight the fear and terror amongst us - the words Boston Strong really do ring true on so many levels.
I hope I can make it back here to do this race again.
Tonight let's celebrate all of our strength and endurance!
