I'm more than slightly ashamed it's taken me this long to post my race recap from the Boston Marathon. Now that it's summer and I'm not teaching, I really don't have an excuse.
But the most shameful of all? Runner's World - the most rec runner of all the rec runner magazines! - beat me to it. (My critiques of Runner's World is a topic for a whole 'nother post) Never again do I ever want to be beaten by anything associated with that publication.
I should say that I (like many other Boston participants, I suspect) are torn about the race. Torn between conflicting emotions of pride and guilt. On the one hand, I'm very proud to have set a ten-minute PR that Patriot's Day. On the other hand, I can't help but feel guilty about being proud, because I know time and place and performance should all be secondary to the greater issue of terrorism and lives lost and bodies maimed. So I'm a little conflicted between how I feel versus how I'm supposed to feel.
I mean, I had finished, gone back to the apartment where I was staying, and showered before any of the craziness happened. While I was in the same city, I found out from a text from a friend in Louisville who saw something on Twitter...so I was no closer than the rest of the country, really.
I'm not too sure what to say about the tragedy other than anything that has already been said, and I can't really offer any other insights because I don't have a closer connection than anyone else. So with that said, here's my short recap of the race itself:
First of all, the Boston Marathon experience is unlike anything I've ever done before. The race has taken on unofficial holiday status (on the official holiday of Patriot's Day), and participants are treated like celebrities in the city. This might be one of the few races where the racers are actually considered athletes.
At the start of the race, everyone is amped and running on adrenaline (and downhill, to boot)...which is great for the first few miles, but when you've got 26.2 to travel, that can come back to bite you - hard. So I tried to make a conscious effort to start off easier, and my first mile was 5:37. Slow, but still a little quicker than I wanted to be.
After that I quickly settled into 5:25-5:30 pace, which was my goal pace for the race. I held onto that pace through about 18 (except mile 12, where I got a little Wellesley bump), and even went through the half in 1:11:18 - feeling good and on pace to finish much better than I had hoped.
After 15-18-ish I had trouble maintaining that pace. The wheels never came off like in Chicago, but gradually my per-mile pace slowed from 5:23 at the half to 5:39 at the 30k and 5:49 at 35k. Part of this can be attributed to the Newton Hills (including the infamous Heartbreak Hill). While none of these huge are real ball-busters, after running a net-downhill for 18 miles, any incline is a shock to the system.
However, I never quite re-established a solid pace after that. I never slowed to a crawl, but I definitely slowed.
[Funny aside: at mile 23 I really had to poop. I thought about trying to hold it for the last 3 mile - what's 3 more miles, after all? - but the more I thought about it the more I had to go. Such is life. Only problem: the streets were lined with people, and there was no way I could stop in a bush without being seen. My saving grace was a port-a-potty at a First-Aid station. Let's just say that everything was out before cheeks hit the seat. In all, I figure I lost about a minute or so on the pit stop.]
At the end, I finished running about 6-minute pace. So nothing earth-shattering, but not terrible either. Not the pace I wanted to be holding, but definitely an improvement over the 10-minute finishing pace at Chicago.
Finishing time: 2:28:28; 5:40 pace; 67th place overall.
Not great, but not bad. Typical marathon reaction.
I was bummed that I slowed down and positive split the race, but encouraged that I avoided the crash from Chicago. So to use a horrible running-related cliché, it was a step in the right direction. Being only my second completed marathon, I'll take it.
But the most shameful of all? Runner's World - the most rec runner of all the rec runner magazines! - beat me to it. (My critiques of Runner's World is a topic for a whole 'nother post) Never again do I ever want to be beaten by anything associated with that publication.
I should say that I (like many other Boston participants, I suspect) are torn about the race. Torn between conflicting emotions of pride and guilt. On the one hand, I'm very proud to have set a ten-minute PR that Patriot's Day. On the other hand, I can't help but feel guilty about being proud, because I know time and place and performance should all be secondary to the greater issue of terrorism and lives lost and bodies maimed. So I'm a little conflicted between how I feel versus how I'm supposed to feel.
I mean, I had finished, gone back to the apartment where I was staying, and showered before any of the craziness happened. While I was in the same city, I found out from a text from a friend in Louisville who saw something on Twitter...so I was no closer than the rest of the country, really.
I'm not too sure what to say about the tragedy other than anything that has already been said, and I can't really offer any other insights because I don't have a closer connection than anyone else. So with that said, here's my short recap of the race itself:
First of all, the Boston Marathon experience is unlike anything I've ever done before. The race has taken on unofficial holiday status (on the official holiday of Patriot's Day), and participants are treated like celebrities in the city. This might be one of the few races where the racers are actually considered athletes.
At the start of the race, everyone is amped and running on adrenaline (and downhill, to boot)...which is great for the first few miles, but when you've got 26.2 to travel, that can come back to bite you - hard. So I tried to make a conscious effort to start off easier, and my first mile was 5:37. Slow, but still a little quicker than I wanted to be.
After that I quickly settled into 5:25-5:30 pace, which was my goal pace for the race. I held onto that pace through about 18 (except mile 12, where I got a little Wellesley bump), and even went through the half in 1:11:18 - feeling good and on pace to finish much better than I had hoped.
After 15-18-ish I had trouble maintaining that pace. The wheels never came off like in Chicago, but gradually my per-mile pace slowed from 5:23 at the half to 5:39 at the 30k and 5:49 at 35k. Part of this can be attributed to the Newton Hills (including the infamous Heartbreak Hill). While none of these huge are real ball-busters, after running a net-downhill for 18 miles, any incline is a shock to the system.
However, I never quite re-established a solid pace after that. I never slowed to a crawl, but I definitely slowed.
[Funny aside: at mile 23 I really had to poop. I thought about trying to hold it for the last 3 mile - what's 3 more miles, after all? - but the more I thought about it the more I had to go. Such is life. Only problem: the streets were lined with people, and there was no way I could stop in a bush without being seen. My saving grace was a port-a-potty at a First-Aid station. Let's just say that everything was out before cheeks hit the seat. In all, I figure I lost about a minute or so on the pit stop.]
At the end, I finished running about 6-minute pace. So nothing earth-shattering, but not terrible either. Not the pace I wanted to be holding, but definitely an improvement over the 10-minute finishing pace at Chicago.
Finishing time: 2:28:28; 5:40 pace; 67th place overall.
Not great, but not bad. Typical marathon reaction.
I was bummed that I slowed down and positive split the race, but encouraged that I avoided the crash from Chicago. So to use a horrible running-related cliché, it was a step in the right direction. Being only my second completed marathon, I'll take it.
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