Ian's Boston Race Report

On Monday I was fortunate to be able to run in the 114th Boston Marathon. I would first like to thank Todd for getting me there. Not just for guiding me through my workouts but also for providing me the right advice for dealing with a nagging injury which I thought might prevent me from racing.

The weekend was rainy and cool but I woke up early Monday morning to clear skies. The Boston Marathon actually starts in the little village of Hopkinton so a shuttle service is provided to get to the race start. The race starts at 10:00 am but the first round of shuttle buses got us there at approximately 7:00 am. Three hours to wait and rookie mistake number one. I didn't bring enough warm clothes or a plastic bag to sit on so I shivered in the athletes village for 2 1/2 hours. Second rookie mistake. At 9:15 I prepared to go for a warm-up run but just as I was about to leave they announced over the PA system that the first 8,000 runners should proceed to the start line. Foolishly I went instead of going for my warm-up. We stood in the holding pens until just before 10:00. Then, two fighter jets flew by, the national anthem was played and the sound of a gun. We were off, sort off. Three minutes later my corral shuffled to the start line and we were truly off. This was my first big running race and it was truly a sea of humanity as far as the eye could see. The pace starts off frustratingly slow but by five kilometres you can start to achieve your desired pace. During the first few kilometres I was able to make use of the slow pace and high five the little kids that line the course.

By ten or twelve kilometres I knew I was in for a long and painful race. My lack of warm-up and the downhills were starting to make my quads cramp. I was expecting this but not for another 20 kilometres. Wellesley College is near the 20 kilometre mark and is famous. A sign stating "Get Ready to Plug Your Ears" says it all. The teenage girls lining the street scream and everyone's pace seems to quicken. As you get closer to Boston the crowds thicken and get louder. Newton with the famous Heartbreak Hill is a wall of people screaming you up the hill. Coming down the hill and the last 12 kilometres was about as agonizing as it gets for me, each step a shot of pain with my calfs, hamstrings and quads all threatening to seize up. By this point the spectators don't seem to cheer but scream at you urging you on as though you are their best friend about to win the race, despite being a mid-pack runner from the other side of the continent. Amazing! The last few kilometres felt like survival mode. I couldn't stop in front of thousands of people, the better runners were passing in droves while others around me were finally breaking and slowing to a walk or stopping. It seemed like chaos. By this time I was on auto pilot and only vaguely aware of the other runners and crowds. Around the final corner, last straight stretch and then... done!

After the race I thought about what gives one race a certain mystique while another is "just a marathon" or "just a triathlon". Boston is after all just another road race. Certainly very scenic and much harder than my Kelowna qualifier, but just a race. The need to qualify, like Kona in the triathlon world is part of it, as well as the elite field. But I would have to say it is the spectators, the energy and the sheer number of them help make this event so special. Everyone we met in Boston was polite, friendly and helpful. Great ambassadors for their city and country. I would highly recommend this race to anyone who is interested in long distance running. After the race I said I would never do it again but two days later I'm trying to decide which year to do it again.