My training was going well up until the end of March. One day I was running on the trails, doing a 20 mile run, and my Achilles tendon on the left side started to ache. I figured it would go away, but as I kept running, it kept getting worse. Of course, I was about 10 miles into my run and practically as far from my house (and/or a road) as I could have been. So I walked the last 10 miles home. For the next three weeks up until Boston, I ran about 20 miles total. Let me tell you, this is not a lead up to a big race. I could not decide whether it would be better to rest and hope that it was better by the time I had to race, or to "work through the pain". However, I actually listened to my own advice (or the advice that I would have given others) and stayed of it for the most part.
Race day came and luckily it was not too hot. It started off cool, but by race time it was probably about 50, which was perfect. I wore an old button up shirt with a cardigan and tights as my throw away outfit and was laughing at all of the other strange outfits in the athlete's village. For those of you not familiar with the marathon, you first get on the bus around 6 and get bussed to Hopkinton where you wait until it is time for your wave. My wave started at 10:20 so I had plenty of time to stand around in the portapotty line and people watch.
Portapotty people watching
The race started and, as always, the crowd participation was fantastic. I don't even wear headphones, as there really is no need. The sound of other runners' feet, the screams of the crowd, the music and laughter...all of this was my "music" for the day. Of course, with all of the positive vibes and sounds of running feet, I started out too fast. In addition to starting out too fast, I realized that I had not trained for speed very well. In addition to that, around mile 7 or so, my Achilles started to ache slightly.
Beer? Cigarettes? Donuts?
As you may or may not know, Boston is a mostly downhill course. For the first 10 miles, it is a slight downhill, so it's easy to prance along, feeling good. However, around 10 it starts to level out and then your legs (mostly hip flexors and quads) start to scream at you for starting out too fast. That is what happened to me. Miles 1 - 6 were all around 7:50 min/mile. Things were looking up! The Achilles was not bothering me; it was a beautiful day!
Miles 7 - 10 were around 8:00/mile. Things were starting to ache; the fact that I had not trained was starting to show; I was starting to get tired and I still had 16 miles left.
Miles 11 - 18 were around 8:30/mile. Things were falling apart. I wanted to stop. My quads were burning and my Achilles was aching and I wanted my Mommy.
Miles 19 - 26 were torture. I went from 9:10 to 9:15 to 9:30...and completed my last couple of miles at around a 9:40. It was not fun. I was so happy to round the corner on Boylston and see the finish line in the distance. The silver lining is that I carried my camera and I got some pretty good photos of myself crossing the finish line, even though I heard someone shout at me as I was finishing, "put the camera down and finish!"
I'm trying to finish Mr.!
I crossed the line at 3:47:40, or an 8:42 pace. This is 24 minutes slower than my time last year, almost a minute slower per mile. It was not a great feeling.
The silver lining? I ran into a friend of mine from Oakland in the finish shoot. Also, afterward I met up with my parents in the Boston Common and we went and had a celebratory Sam Adams 26.2 (or two), which was priceless.
The verdict? I think I am done with Boston. There are other fish to fry. However, I was glad to come back and show those bullies that we are not afraid of them. We will keep doing what we love and not let fear hold us back. Take that, bullies!
Have you ever run a race or done something just on principle? What would be your advice if someone who was injured wanted to keep running through the pain?
