Race report: 2018 Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon

On April 28th, I race-walked the Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon in Louisville.  This was my third Kentucky Marathon, which brings me one step closer to completing a third circuit of marathons in all 50 states.  I ran my last two marathons, but decided to walk this one.  I’m training to for a 24-hour walk, and I needed to start doing some longer workouts.  The last time I walked as far as a marathon was early February.

Earlier in the week, I came down with a mild cold.  On Tuesday and Wednesday, I felt a bit sluggish in some of my workouts.  By Thursday, I was feeling closer to normal, but I still went into this race with low expectations.  I didn’t think this was likely to be a PR.  Aside from the cold, I also wasn’t that confident in my training.  I’ve been doing lots of mileage, but I haven’t done any walking at a fast pace since the Surf City Marathon in early February.

I flew to Louisville on Friday, arriving around 1:00.  I was getting hungry, so I drove over to Skyline Chili for a quick lunch.  Everyone knows my favorite food is pizza, but three-way chili also ranks pretty high.

After lunch, I picked up my race packet at the Kentucky Expo Center.  I found out where the gear check trucks would be located, and then I looked for the pace team booth.  The 4:45 and 5:00 pace teams were both starting in corral E, which was also my assigned corral.  It wouldn’t have been a big issue if they were in a different corral.  The corral assignments are just guidelines.  They’re not enforced.

While I was at the expo, I saw a sign for a post-race event called Pig and Swig.  It was a post-race party with free admission if you have a Pegasus Pin.  I had to ask someone what a Pegasus Pin is.  There are several events going on in the two weeks prior to the Kentucky Derby.  A Pegasus Pin costs $6 and gets you into several of these events for free.

I stayed at a downtown hotel that was near several shops and restaurants.  I was about a mile from where the marathon starts and finishes.  After unpacking and getting my clothes organized for the race, I went out to explore the downtown area.  I didn’t have to go far to find a store where I could get a Pegasus Pin.  There was a CVS across the street from the hotel.

Next I went to Fourth Street Live, which is a dining and entertainment district that was just a block away from my hotel.  There, I discovered a restaurant called Birracibo that specializes in artisan pizza and craft beer.  Naturally, I had dinner there.

In the morning, I walked to the starting line, allowing a little extra time to check a gear bag and make a bathroom stop.  On the way, I bumped into my friend Andy, who was on his way to one of the nearby hotels to meet his friend Joe.  I hung out with Andy and Joe until we needed to line up for the race.  Then I checked my gear bag and found some port-o-potties that didn’t have long lines.

The temperature at the start was 50 degrees, and it stayed in the 50s for the whole race.  That’s a nice comfortable range.  I walked in shorts and a T-shirt, but had warm-up clothes for before and after the race.

The last time I walked a marathon, my time was 4:46:07.  I wanted to line up between the 4:45 and 5:00 pace groups, but I didn’t see them at first.  There was a 2:20 pace group for the half marathon, so I stayed with them until I spotted the 4:45 group.  Then I moved back to join them.  I never saw the 5:00 pace group.

There were two pace leaders for the 4:45 group.  One was named Christina.  She was the one holding the 4:45 sign, so she was easier to spot.  I lined up behind her.  There was also a male pacer, but I never found out his name.  I didn’t have time to ask them if they would be running an even pace or doing some kind of run/walk mix.

I didn’t even realize the race had started until we all started walking.  We were in the fifth corral.  Each corral was a full city block, so I couldn’t even see the starting line until we had walked at least two blocks.  I stayed right behind Christina.

My plan was to stay behind the 4:45 group, but keep them in sight until I established my pace.  After that, I assumed I could maintain a good pace by keeping up with the runners around me.

As we crossed the line and Christina started running, I walked fast enough to stay right behind her.  After a few blocks, she suddenly sped up to move through a gap between some slower runners.  I got bottled up behind them and had to work hard to catch up.

That’s how the first mile or two went.  There was an ebb and flow.  At times, I could keep up easily.  At times, I had to really work to keep up.  Either we were going too fast, or I just wasn’t in good enough shape to walk at this pace.  I suspected it was the former, because the pace was sometimes fast enough to make my shins sore.

We started near Waterfront Park and made several turns as we wound our way through the downtown area.  I was working so hard to keep up with the pacers and avoid the congestion that I couldn’t look for the mile markers.  I overheard the pacers say that we started too fast.  I asked what our first mile was.  It was 10:30.  That’s faster than my 10K pace.  No wonder it felt so tiring.

They said they were going to slow into the 10:40s.  We needed to average 10:52, so even 10:40s was a bit fast.

At six miles, I finally looked at my watch.  We were averaging 10:33.  We didn’t slow down much at all.  We rounded a corner and reach the 10K mark.  My time was 1:06:07.  That was only 48 seconds slower than my 10K PR.

Now we were on our way out of the downtown area.  I probably should have slowed down, but I didn’t want to have to set my own pace.  It was difficult to keep up with the group, but psychologically, it was easier to just follow and group and let them worry about the pacing.  Water stops were difficult.  The course was still congested, so I usually slowed down going through the water stops.  Then I had to work hard to catch up.

There were only about four other runners in the 4:45 group besides the pace leaders and me.  As we left downtown, I started talking to the other runners.

Somewhere around nine miles, we ran through Churchill Downs.   I was carrying a camera, so I stopped briefly so get a picture of the gate.  I was on pace for a PR, but I still expected to slow down.  I never would have stopped for pictures if I expected to set a PR.

I wanted to get a picture of the clubhouse, but there were some tents that blocked my view.  They were getting ready for the Kentucky Derby.  After two turns, we came within sight of some horses on practice runs.  I again stopped to take a picture.  I lined up my shot and waited until the horse was directly in front of me.  Then a runner crossed in front of me. I tried again with the same result.  I had to give up and try to catch up to the pace group.  On the way, I spotted my friend Abbi.

I stopped one last time to try to get a picture of the clubhouse.  This was the best view I could get.

Now I could barely see the pace leaders. I had to work hard for a long time to catch up to them.  Along the way, Abbi caught up to me.

After leaving Churchill Downs, the marathon and half marathon courses separated.  After the split, there were far fewer runners on the course. That made it easier to see the 4:45 pace leaders, but it look several minutes to catch them.

A few miles after leaving Churchill Downs, we started a loop through Iroquois Park.  Most of the course is flat, but this section is hilly.  The biggest climb was right after we entered the park.  As we made a sharp turn, I passed a few runners.  One saw me walking and tried to emulate my stride.  He kept up for about three strides and had to return to running.  He said, “I can’t do that.  That’s cool that you can do that, but I haven’t got that.”  I left several runners behind on that hill.

I fell behind the pace leaders briefly, but eventually caught up to them after cresting the hill.  Nobody else from the pace group could keep up. After that first hill, I never saw any of them again.  About the time I caught up to the pacers, I stopped one last time to take a picture of the park.

There were a few more hills, but the trend now was downhill.  Walking downhill was easier, but I started noticing more friction within my shoes. I was developing blisters.

From time to time, my nose started to run.  At the time, I thought it was a new cold symptom.

After one of the water stops, I started to fall behind the pacers again.  Then they took a walking break.  We were three or four minutes ahead of a 4:45 pace.  I think they realized that and decided to slow down.  I continued ahead at my own pace until they resumed running and caught up to me.  Then I went back to following them.

Before we left the park, I noticed the pacers talking to each other.  Then the male pacer rushed ahead.  I assume he was going to make a bathroom stop at the next aid station and wanted to get ahead of us first.

I found it harder and harder to keep up with Christina.  We were on a long downhill section as we left the park. My blisters were painful, but I worked hard to keep up.  I started to get out of breath.

I seldom get short of breath when I walk.  I’m usually limited by my mechanics, not by my aerobic capacity.  As the road leveled off, I was working harder than ever, but Christina kept getting farther ahead.

I checked my watch at the 16 mile mark.  I didn’t completely trust the mile markers, but my time from 15 to 16 was 9:38.  To put that in perspective, in January I walked a one mile race in 9:39.  As fast as I was going, Christina was still getting farther and farther in front of me.  I knew she was going too fast, but I tried to catch up, if for no other reason than to ask her what she was thinking.

The other pacer passed me from behind.  I asked him if Christina knew how fast she was going and told him we just did a sub 10 mile.  He said, “I know,” and shouted to her.  She stopped and waited for us to catch up.  Then they both took a walking break.

I couldn’t slow down as much as they did.  If I did, they would drop me as soon as they started running again.  I had to go ahead on my own until they caught up to me again.  They never did.

I was still walking at a brisk pace, but I relaxed a little.  I no longer had to work to keep up with anyone.  I checked my watch again at 17 miles.  That mile was still too fast, but I had to wait another mile before I could see how fast I walked when I was setting my own pace for a complete mile.

I did mile 18 in 10:58.  That seemed much more reasonable.  It was unclear, however, if I would stay on that pace.  I was tired, and all the runners around me were going at different paces.  I was passing some, but others were passing me.  After Iroquois Park, nobody seemed strong.

By now, my nose was running constantly.  If my cold was getting worse, it should have been affecting my performance.  I had a good shot at a PR, in spite of poor pacing and four picture stops.  I think my nose was starting to run because of my exertion.  That’s happened to me before in races where I was pushing incredibly hard.

The mile 19 sign was at an aid station.  I was focused on taking a drink and forgot to look at my watch.  In mile 20, I picked up my effort.  I was afraid I would drift into a slower pace.  As I worked harder, I felt like I had a faster turnover rate.

When I finally got to the 21 mile sign, I was distressed to see that my combined time for the last two miles was 23:34.  That’s an average of 11:47.  Could I really have slowed down that much?  I expected to come unglued at some point, but I didn’t feel the way I usually do when I slow down dramatically.  I tried to pick up my effort, but my confidence was shaken.

From time to time, I got encouragement from both spectators and other runners.  A spectator said, “I.  Am.  So.  Jealous. Of.  You.  That’s great walking.”  That lifted my spirits and helped me to keep up the effort.  Mile 22 took 10:58.  That was encouraging.  A few more miles like that and I would have a PR.

As we got back into the downtown area, we had several turns.  I kept watching for the 23 sign.  I saw it, but somehow forgot to check my watch.  I was mentally fatigued.  Now I had to wait another mile to know if I was maintaining my pace.  I fought for it.

Mile 24 seemed to take forever.  I was almost afraid to look at my watch.  The last time I went two miles before getting a split, it was surprisingly slow.  I was so relieved to see that I sped up slightly over those two miles.

I was sore and tired, and at times my stride felt awkward.  I poured on the effort.  Now I was passing most of the runners around me.  Eventually, I heard someone in the crowd say, “One mile to go.”  Then someone else said, “25.”  Did I miss the 25 sign?

After making a turn, I saw it.  After checking my watch, I realized the signs had to be badly misplaced.  Either that or I just walked an 8:37 mile.  The only thing I knew for sure is that I probably sped up.  More importantly, I didn’t slow down.

I had no idea what pace I was walking.  I also had no idea how far it was to the finish.  In theory, it should have been 1.2 miles.  For all I knew, it was 1.5.  I didn’t trust the mile markers at all any more.  I just kept up my effort and told myself it was going to be a PR.

I started recognizing the downtown buildings.  Eventually we turned onto Main Street.  It was still several blocks to get back to where we started.  The finish line was a little farther.  We still had one more turn.

I heard someone yell my name, and I turned in time to see Joe taking a picture.  After another block, I felt a sharp pain in my left heal.  Evidently, a blister had popped.  This was just like the last mile of the Surf City Marathon.  I was in too much pain to walk normally.  I had to keep my left heal off the ground.  Fortunately, I only had a few more blocks.

As I made the final turn, I saw the finish line.  The crowds here were great.  I wonder if they noticed how awkward my stride was.  I just tried to get there as fast as I could.

I finished in 4:39:51.  That’s a walking PR by more than six minutes.  After getting a heat shield and my finisher medal, I looked for the closest bathroom.  For at least nine miles, I wanted to make a bathroom stop, but I didn’t want to lose any time.  I was also worried that I would never be able to get back into the same rhythm again.

I went back out to wait for Abbi, who I knew would only be five to ten minutes behind me. Then we made our way through the finish area to find the post-race food.  I had some mini muffins, a banana, and some chocolate milk.  Then I retrieved my gear bag and started walking back to the hotel.

At first, I was warm enough with just my heat shield, but eventually my legs got cold.  I found a bench and sat down so I could put on my warm-up clothes.  I couldn’t get my pants on over my shoes, so I had to take them off.  I was able to put my right shoe back on without any trouble.  The left shoe was another story.

Around my left heal, my sock was bloody.  I took a spare lens from my sunglass case and used it as a shoehorn.  After a few seconds of blinding pain, I got the shoe back on.

I decided to go to the Pig and Swig at Fourth Street Live before showering at the hotel.  Now that my shoe was back on, I didn’t want to take it off again.

At Pig and Swig there was a live band, a BBQ Station, and several Swig Stations with either craft beer or bourbon.

My race bib got me a souvenir beer mug and a token for one free beer sample.  I bought additional tokens, so I could have a pulled pork sandwich, bacon on a stick, and more beer samples.  Then I sat down and enjoyed the music. You know you’re in Kentucky when you’re eating barbecue, listening to a bluegrass band, and drinking a beer called Shotgun Wedding.

I’m glad I attempted to stay with the 4:45 group, even when I knew we were starting too fast.  At the time, it seemed reckless.  Sometimes you have to get reckless to find out what you can do.

Race Statistics

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  4:39:51

Average Pace:  10:40

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  352

Kentucky Marathons:  3

Race Report: 2018 Boston Marathon

On Monday, April 16th, I ran the Boston Marathon.  This was my seventh consecutive Boston Marathon and my eighth overall.  I was planning to race-walk it this year, but the weather conditions made me reconsider.

Finding an affordable hotel gets more difficult every year.  I starting looking right after last year’s race, and most of the hotels near Boston Common and the finish line were already booked.  This year, I stayed at The Bostonian, which is right next to Faneuil Hall Marketplace.  It was close to T stations on three different lines, and it was also within walking distance of several good restaurants.

I was originally planning to fly to Boston on Saturday.  Thursday morning, Deb asked me if I could change my flight to Friday.  We were forecast to get 6-12 inches of snow Saturday morning.  That’s unusual for April, even in Minnesota.  I called Delta, and they let me switch to a Friday afternoon flight without having to pay a change fee.  Next, I called the hotel to see if I could check in a day early.  Surprisingly, they had a room, even on the busiest weekend of the year.

I arrived around 5:00 and took a train into town.  By the time I checked in at The Bostonian, it was too late to go to the expo, but I had all day Saturday for that.  I was close to the North End, so I walked over to Regina’s Pizzeria for dinner.  On my way back, I stopped at Mike’s Pastries to get some cannoli for dessert and breakfast.  This was my eighth trip to Boston, but I had never been there before.

Saturday was the nicest day of the weekend.  It was quite literally the calm before the storm.  For the people doing the Boston 5K, it was a great day for running.  Unfortunately, the marathon wasn’t until Monday.

In the morning, I walked over to the Seaport World Trade Center, where the expo was held.  In addition to picking up my race packet, I bought a celebration jacket.  I’ve wanted to buy one of these, but every year they have different colors, and I was hoping they would return to the traditional blue and yellow of the BAA logo.  This year’s jacket was red and silver.  I don’t know how many more years I’ll be able to qualify for this race, so I decided to stop waiting and finally buy a jacket.

Most years I’ve been on a tight schedule, so I couldn’t spend much time at the expo.  Arriving in Boston a day early meant I could take my time and browse all of the booths.  I resisted the temptation to buy a stuffed unicorn or a headband with a unicorn horn.  Yes, they really had those.

After getting back to the hotel, I did a race-walking workout on one of the hotel’s treadmills.  It was a nice day for walking outside, but it’s hard to do a quality workout on the sidewalks of a downtown area.  After showering and changing clothes, I did more walking around Boston Common.

At 3:00, I stopped by Beantown Pub for a happy hour gathering of a group called Boston Squeakers for Life.  A “squeaker” is someone who has qualified for Boston, but doesn’t know if their qualifying time will be good enough to actually get into the race.  In recent years, the number of qualified runners who have tried to register has exceeded the number of available slots.  When this happens, some of the “squeakers” don’t get in.  This year, the cut-off was more than three minutes.

I was in this category when I registered for the 2017 race.  This year, I was able to register during the first week, so I knew I was in.  Still, I know what it’s like to register for the race during the second week and not know if I got in until the cut-off time was announced.  Everyone in this group has known that feeling at least once, so it’s our common bond.  After the happy hour, some of us stayed there for dinner.

Sunday morning, a cold front went through, bringing temperatures in the 30s and intermittent drizzle.  It wasn’t a nice day to be outside, but I would much rather have raced on Sunday than Monday.  What was coming was much worse.

I spent the morning at the hotel, doing some walking on the treadmill and organizing my clothes for the race.  Then I walked down to the finish line on Boylston Street.  The street is blocked off to traffic so people can take pictures.

 At noon, Marathon Maniacs were meeting there for a group photo.  I don’t always do group photos, but this one is one stop shopping for seeing people I know.  The turnout was surprisingly low this year.  It was cold and drizzly, and that may have kept people indoors.

I had lunch with two friends at a nearby pub.  We walked to Boston Common after lunch.  Then we went to an afternoon gathering of the 50sub4 club at Solas Irish Pub.  In December, I finished my second circuit of sub 4 hour marathons in all 50 states.  It was nice to celebrate again.

One of the other runners there bought a pair of rubber gloves to wear over his running gloves.  When I asked where I could get a pair, he recommended CVS.  I went by a CVS (actually three) on my way back to the hotel, so I bought some.  I normally wear polypro gloves, but in heavy rain, they won’t keep my hands dry.

I had dinner with a few other friends at Durgin Park, which serves traditional New England style food.  This is a Boston tradition.  I eat there every time I’m in Boston.  The portions were larger than I remembered.  Perhaps that’s because I’m usually there for lunch.

I went to bed early and slept well for at least an hour.  Then a strange noise woke me up.  At first, I wondered if I made a mistake setting the alarm on the clock radio.  I turned on the light and looked at the clock.  That’s not where the sound was coming from.  I got out of bed to try to find the source of the noise.  Then the noise was replaced by a repeating message.  It was tough to make out at first, because I was wearing ear plugs, and I wasn’t fully awake.

The message was saying something about an emergency in the building.  Then it said if the message was followed by a tone it meant my floor should evacuate.  All other floors should await further instructions.  The message repeated a few times.  Then it went silent. There was never a tone.  There were no further instructions.

I concluded it was a false alarm of some sort.  I later learned it was an overly sensitive smoke detector in a room that had a fireplace.  I tried to go back to sleep, but I was now wide awake.  It took me hours to get back to sleep.  After that, my sleep was restless.  It was basically a series of short naps.  At 5:30, I got up, took a hot shower, and started getting dressed.

Every Boston Marathon is a unique experience.  One of the things that makes each year different is the weather.  This year we had temperatures in the low 40s with all-day rain, and strong winds.  It was only light rain in the early morning, but kept getting stronger throughout the day.  Sustained wind speeds were 25-30 mph, with gusts that were much stronger.  Making matters worse, we had to run directly into the wind.  You know it’s going to be bad when the forecast includes phrases like “watch for flooding” and “damaging winds.”

I wanted to try for a race-walking PR in this race, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen in these conditions.  Instead of walking, I opted to run.  Running gave me a better chance of staying warm, and it also meant less time on the course.

I dressed in layers, with a waterproof layer on top.  My base layer included tights, a polypro shirt, a singlet to pin my bib to, polypro gloves, a winter hat, and a waterproof cap that fit tightly over it.  That would have kept me warm enough if it was merely cold and drizzly.  For strong winds and heavy rain, I needed to be waterproof.

I packed a plastic rain poncho, which I was going to wear in the Athletes’ Village and then discard.  Instead, I wore it for the whole race.  Over my tights, I had a pair of waterproof wind pants.  I was also planning to discard those before the race started, but made a last minute decision to keep them on for the race.  I had never run in them before, and they didn’t fit well, but they were my best protection against the rain and wind.  Finally, I wore rubber gloves over my polypro running gloves.

I knew I risked being overdressed by wearing so many layers.  The waterproof outer layers could easily have trapped too much heat and moisture.  I was more willing to risk being too hot than too cold.  My body doesn’t handle cold wet conditions well.  On Sunday, I often felt intolerably cold with the strong winds and a little bit of light drizzle.  I couldn’t imagine how that wind would feel in a heavy rain.  To make matters worse, we had to run directly into the wind for the whole race.

To get to the start, I needed to take a bus.  The buses left from Boston Common, which was only about a mile from my hotel.  I was originally planning to walk to Boston Common, but The Bostonian had free shuttles for runners.  Since it was raining, I decided to use the shuttle service.

I was in the second wave, which didn’t start until 10:25, but we were supposed to be on a bus sometime between 7:00 and 7:45.  I usually get there on the early side.  This time, I wanted to get there on the later side, so I wouldn’t have as long a wait at the Athletes’ Village in Hopkinton.  I waited until 7:00 before leaving my hotel room to go down to the lobby.  There was a shuttle there ready to leave.  I was on it immediately.  We were dropped off next to Tremont Street, so we still had to walk through the park to get to Charles Street, where the buses were loading.  It was raining, but only lightly.  Even with the walk across the park, I was on a bus by 7:20, which was earlier than I planned.

It took at least an hour to reach the Athletes’ Village in Hopkinton.  That’s because the buses have to use a route that avoids the roads that are blocked off for the race.  The Athletes’ Village is on the grounds of Hopkinton High School.  They set up at least three large tents, so runners could stay dry during the long wait.

I wanted to get inside one of the tents right away, before it became standing room only.  I knew I needed to make a bathroom stop, so I did that first.  I needed to get into a line before they got any longer.

It took about half an hour to work my way through the bathroom line.  As I was waiting in line, I noticed snow on the ground near the outside of the tent.  I can only assume that freezing rain during the night was causing ice crystals to slide down the sides of the tent, forming piles of snow all around the tent.  Yeah, this race had every kind of cold.  I was able to mostly stay dry, but my wrists, ankles and feet were getting wet.  Every now and then a gust of wind would make me shiver.

Next, I made my way into the tent.  I had to walk through some mud to get there.  It was crowded under the tent, but I found a small patch of ground where I could spread out a space blanket and sit down.  I had to wait about 45 minutes before it was time to walk to the start.  It was still cold under the tent, but we were sheltered from the wind and rain.  While I was waiting, the rain outside briefly turned into a downpour.  By the time I left the tent, it was back to only light rain.  I knew the rain was going to get heavier throughout the morning and afternoon, so I felt lucky to be able to start the race before the rain picked up again.

Leaving the tent without walking through deep mud puddles was a challenge.  My shoes got a little bit muddy, but the rain would eventually wash that all away.

On the way to the start corrals, we went by a parking lot with more port-o-potties.  I found one with a relatively short line and made one last bathroom stop before lining up for the race.

We were advised to pin our race bibs to our outermost layer.  I didn’t want to pin it to my plastic rain poncho, so I pinned it to my singlet.  My race bib was still visible through the rain poncho, but I thought there might be a slight risk that the timing chip wouldn’t be detected if it was covered up.  When I crossed the starting line, I lifted the front of my rain poncho, so my race bib was exposed.  I did the same thing every time I crossed a timing mat.  That probably wasn’t necessary, but I wasn’t taking any chances.  Finishing a marathon in these conditions was going to be grueling, and didn’t want to risk enduring the cold rain and wind and then not get an official time.

The first 15 miles are mostly downhill. The grade is most noticeably in the first two miles.  I tried to hold back as I started running downhill.  It’s deceptively easy, and I was surrounded by fast runners, so it was almost impossible to not go out too fast.

About halfway through the first mile, there’s a short rise.  Running uphill felt tiring, but I knew it would help me warm up.

Near the end of the first mile, I saw a spectator holding a sign that read 25.3 miles (to go).  I have no doubt that the distance was accurate.  Boston Marathon spectators know their race.

The aid stations were spaced a mile apart, starting just past the second mile marker.  I didn’t feel like I needed fluid yet, but I thought it would be a good idea so drink some Gatorade.  I didn’t eat breakfast, so I needed to take in calories during the race.  Each aid station had a few tables on the right, followed about a block later by a few tables on the left.  At two miles, I skipped the tables on the right to avoid the congestion.  When I tried to get to a table with Gatorade on the left, I kept bumping into runners who were running between me and the aid station.  By the time I got over to the tables, I was past the Gatorade and was handed a glass of water.  I took a sip and dumped the rest.  That wasn’t what I needed.

Within a few miles I started to feel out of breath, even when I wasn’t going uphill.  I realized I must have started much too fast.  It’s easy to do that when all the runners around you had qualifying times in the low 3:20s.  I tried to run my own race, but it’s easy for the crowd around you to distort your sense of pace.

I was wearing sunglasses with clear lenses.  Normally, I wear those for UV protection.  In this race, I was wearing them mostly to protect my eyes from the rain.  The wind was driving the rain right into us.  Already, my glasses were covered with drops.  They were also fogging up a little.  That made it difficult to see, so I rarely looked at my watch.

Even seeing the runners around me took some effort.  I almost collided with a runner who abruptly moved left and cut in front of me.  He was trying to avoid a large puddle that filled the right hand side of the road.  I was right on the edge of this puddle and might not have seen it if not for this runner.  After that, I tried to stay in the center of the road, where there were fewer large puddles.

At four miles, I finally peeled back the rubber glove so I could see my watch.  I had to squint to read it through all the drops on my lenses.  I ran the first four miles in 33:00, which is an average pace of 8:15 per mile.  That would have been an unsustainable pace even without the headwind.  In these conditions, it was insane.  I tried to back off a little.

By now, my hands no longer left cold.  Wearing the rubber gloves over my running gloves was working.

I skipped the aid station at three miles, but drank Gatorade at four miles.  After that, I drank Gatorade after every even mile.  I still didn’t feel like I needed much liquid, but I wanted to keep taking in calories.

Early in the race, I noticed there were signs for each kilometer, in addition to signs for each mile.  At 7K, I also noticed that there was a gap in the double yellow line in the middle of the road, and “7 K” was painted there. I wondered if that’s there all year.  At 8K, I noticed there was a BAA unicorn painted above the “8.”  The miles were also marked that way.

At eight miles, I checked my watch again.  My time was 1:06:57.  I slowed down a little, but not enough.  I was still averaging roughly 8:30 per mile.  Even without the wind, that pace would destroy me.  I worked harder to ignore the other runners so I could slow down.

As I untethered myself from the runners around me, I drifted back through the pack.  I often had nobody directly in front of me, so I had to work harder to fight the headwinds.  It got more and more tiring.

I reached an aid station with gels.  I don’t generally bother with gels during a race, but I wasn’t drinking as much Gatorade as I normally do.  I needed to take in enough calories.  In addition to the energy I was expending to run, I was also burning extra calories to maintain my body temperature.  Taking in extra calories was essential.  The first volunteer I passed had what looked like a raspberry gel.  As I grabbed a gel packet from another volunteer, I heard her say, “caffeine.”  This gel had a coffee flavor.  That’s not my favorite flavor, but I ate in anyway.

By the time I got to mile 10, my hands were getting cold again.  It was raining harder now.  I had no regrets about wearing the rain poncho, wind pants, and rubber gloves.  I needed them all.

Around 20K, I reached the Wellesley Scream Tunnel.  There have been years when I could hear the women of Wellesley College from a mile away.  The sound didn’t carry as far in the rain and wind, but when I was running right past them, it was still loud enough to make my ears ring.

I checked my watch for the last time at the halfway mark.  By now, I was no longer paying any attention to my pace.  I just wanted to know, so I could compare my first and second half splits.  I did the first half in 1:51:50.  I knew I would slow down in the second half.  I already felt like I was running out of gas.  The wind was wearing me down.

I usually get a psychological lift from knowing I’m more than half done.  At 14 miles, I start counting down the remaining miles.  With 12 miles to go, it still didn’t seem like a manageable distance.  I needed to break the course down into segments.  I set an intermediate goal of getting to the Charles River.  Until then, it was downhill.

The last half mile before the river is noticeably downhill.  I wasn’t trying to speed up, but for the first time, I started passing other runners.

Just before 16 miles, I crossed the river and entered Newton.  Here, I began to climb the first of four hills.  The first one is long, but very gradual.

I looked forward to this part of the course.  The hills are like old friends.  They tell me where I am on the course.

I reached another aid station with gels.  This time I paid close attention to what the volunteer was saying.  She said, “no caffeine – razz.”    This one was a raspberry gel.  That was much more to my liking.

In the middle of the hill, we crossed a bridge over I95.  On the bridge, the wind felt stronger than ever.  It was much more tiring there.  After the bridge, I was still going uphill, but it felt much easier.

After the first hill, we had a gradual descent.  That let me recover.  Then I made the right turn onto Commonwealth Avenue.  We were already two thirds of the way through the course, but this is the first turn.

After the turn, I began climbing the second of the four hills in Newton.  This one is shorter, but the grade is more noticeable.  After the turn, I was no longer going directly into the wind.  Eventually, the road would curve to the left, and it would be a direct headwind again.  For the moment, however, I felt some relief.  The running felt easier, even going uphill.

The wind wasn’t quite as bad, but the rain got worse.  It was raining hard now.  The drops hitting my poncho made a surprising amount of noise.  I continued to lift the front of my rain poncho each time I crossed a timing mat.  Each time I did that, the front of my shirt got wet.  I was getting colder as a result.

About halfway up this hill, I started to notice an usual amount of soreness in one of my glutes.  It didn’t seem like an injury.  I suspect it was because I was not only working hard, but my muscles were getting cold and stiff.

Besides the hills, I could look forward to seeing other friends.  I knew four people who were volunteering here, minding the large digital clocks.  I saw one friend at 30K, two more at 19 miles, and one at 21 miles.

On the third hill, I noticed soreness in one of my quads.  Again, I think it was partially the result of muscles getting cold.

The last of the four hills is the famous Heartbreak Hill.  I was running out of gas, so this hill was tougher than usual.  Still, I was almost to Boston College.  From there, there’s a downhill trend.  I recovered somewhat on the first descent after Boston College.

Now I was passing people left and right.  I doubt if I was going faster.  I think they were all slowing down.  The wind was wearing them down.

With about four miles to go, we made the familiar left turn at Cleveland Circle.  Coming around that corner, I really felt the wind pick up.  It was gusting stronger than ever, and we were going right into it.

Around 23 miles, someone in the crowd was offering a Snickers bar. It was still in the wrapper, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to unwrap it.  My hands were getting numb.  Then I saw people handing out bananas that were already mostly peeled.  I stopped to walk briefly, so I could eat a banana.  I had already eaten three gels by now.  I was fueling like I was running an ultra.

A small hill before the 23 mile marker made me want to walk the rest of the way.  I knew that would take too long, and I would get too cold.  I had to force myself to keep running.  After 23, the road turned downhill again.  That helped me keep going.

Between 23 and 24 miles, I was looking for the big Citgo sign near Fenway Park.  I got all the way to 24 miles without seeing it.  The sky was too gray from the heavy rain.

As I got to 24 miles, I congratulated myself for running the first of the three miles that I wanted to walk.  Then the sky opened up and it rained harder than ever.  It just never got any easier.  Here’s a video taken by a spectator that shows the conditions on this part of the course.

 

Now both of my quads were feeling sore.  This was the inevitable result of running so hard earlier in the race.  It was catching up to me.

I eventually saw the Citgo sign when I was only a few blocks away from it.  I was almost to 25 miles. The wind was getting even stronger, and I was climbing another small hill as I crossed a bridge.  How much tougher could it get?

At 25 miles, I looked at the digital clock. It read, “4:07.”  That didn’t mean much to me.  I didn’t know if that was the time since the first wave started or the time since my wave started.  At short time later, I reached the one mile to go sign.  The clock there read, “4:09.”  I still didn’t know how to interpret that.

As I pressed on through the last mile, I eventually made the right turn onto Hereford.  On many parts of the course, the crowds seemed somewhat subdued.  Here, they were unusually loud.  I think people who are normally watching along Boylston moved around the corner to Hereford to get out of the wind.

After making the final turn onto Boylston, I could see the finish line, but it was still a few blocks away.  The runners around me were accelerating to put on a strong finish.  I couldn’t do that.  As I got close enough to see the clock, it read “3:53.”  That was from the start of the second wave.  My corral didn’t cross the starting line until about four minutes later.  I finished in 3:50:18.  I still couldn’t believe I broke four hours in that awful headwind.  I slowed down by seven minutes in the second half, but I expected it to be a lot more.

The first volunteers I passed after crossing the finish line were handing out bottles of water.  I didn’t even want to see water.  Next, there were a few volunteers with cups of Gatorade.  I wasn’t thirsty, but persuaded myself to drink a small cup of Gatorade.

In the next block, I got my finisher medal.  This is my eighth unicorn, but it’s the one I had to work hardest to earn.

The next volunteer wrapped me in one of those silver reflective ponchos I affectionately call “baked potato wraps.”  Even with all the other layers I was wearing, I needed it to stay warm.

I kept moving to get my post-race snacks, which were in a plastic bag with handles.  My hands were barely functioning, so I was glad they made it easy to carry.  I had to work my way through the crowd of runners retrieving gear bags to make it to the exit.  Then I was right next to Arlington Station.  I wasn’t up to walking back to my hotel in the cold rain and wind, so I took the train.  When I reached Government Center Station, I still needed to walk a few blocks to get to the hotel.  I dreaded going outside again.  I was cold, and it was still raining hard.

When I reached my hotel room, I found this waiting for me.

This was the first time I stayed at The Bostonian.  I knew I would like the location, but I was pleasantly surprised by all the things they do for marathon runners.  They also offered complimentary post-race massages.

It took time to peel off all the layers of wet clothes and find places to hang them up so they could dry.  Then I took a hot shower.  It was hard to tell if the water was the right temperature.  It was hot, but to my hands, it felt like ice water.  I stayed in the shower until the color returned to my hands.

Later, I went out for a post-race celebration at Boston Beer Works.  I could take the train most of the way, but I still had to walk a few blocks outside.  It was raining even harder.  Fortunately, I had another rain poncho in my suitcase that was still dry.

People who have done this race many times were saying that these were the toughest weather conditions they’ve ever had.  It’s hard to imagine worse conditions.  More than 2300 runners needed medical treatment, mostly for hypothermia.

I ran the 2012 Boston Marathon, which may have been the hottest of all time.  This year’s race may have been the coldest.  I’ve experienced just about everything this race can throw at me.

Race Statistics

Distance:  26.2 miles

Time:  3:50:18

Average Pace:  8:47

Lifetime Marathons/Ultras:  351

Unicorns:  8