Boston Marathon | April 20th, 2015
6th Marathon | 3rd Boston Marathon
Weather: Mid 40s, Rainy, 20mph wind
Time: 3:18:37 | Average Pace: 7:35
First Half: 1:41:22 | Second Half: 1:37:15
Previous PR 3:23:17
“Somewhere in its running, whether by the speed of its running, or by splashing its way into a river, or by way of a ray of sunlight or moonlight hitting it right in the side, the wolf is suddenly transformed into a laughing woman who runs free toward the horizon.”
From Women Who Run With the Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Boston for me this year was about patience, confidence, and gratitude. It was about embracing 119 years of history that we were running upon and dancing with the earth and the elements.
Sticking to the race plan, I kept the beginning miles relaxed. I had to remind myself to be patient with the race and not get caught up in the initial downhill and excitement. I trusted the plan and my training. Now was time to enjoy the ride. It was raining and I couldn’t stop smiling, I was the laughing woman, running free toward the horizon. I high-fived the kids and laughed as some spectators joked saying, “Almost there! Only 25 miles to go!”
Gloves are awesome. My hands were actually warm. For someone with notoriously cold hands, and with the weather being below fifty and rainy, this was a big deal. The gloves were a cheap pair, a few sizes too big, and a last minute buy that I am so grateful for. They stuck with me until mile 16 when they finally reversed their benefits, becoming cold, wet, and heavy. After I tossed them I must have been clenching my hands pretty tight because my forearms were the most notably sore spot on Monday evening.
The last few times I ran Boston, I didn’t really mentally prepare for the hills of Newton. I’d run Big Sur before so I figured they were nothing compared to the climb to Hurricane Point, right? WRONG. They come later in the race, and at that point just seemed endless. This year I was ready for it. After getting through the hills hardly even noticing them and still feeling strong, I knew I was ready to bust out an incredibly solid last 10k. With six miles to go I started to pick up the pace. The second half of this race was a negative split, and, according to Strava, the last seven miles were all negative splits.
I turned onto Boylston, mentally waving to myself on the banners (still can’t get over that) and finished with a five minute PR of 3:18:37. I was ecstatic and couldn’t stop smiling. I was also incredibly thankful that the volunteers helped open the water bottles and bananas after the finish since my hands couldn't.
When racing Boston I'm always blown away by the spectators. It’s an incredible energy that’s hard to put into words. I always tell my parents that I wish they could just be on the course to experience it because my futile explanations don’t do it justice. What an awesome celebration it is. For 26.2 miles, we get to run with 30,000 others, getting after a goal we’ve put in so many miles for, cheered on by spectators lining the entire course, on a course run by thousands before us for the last 119 years. How incredible is that? With each step we become part of that history, and I want to embrace those steps.
So here's to splashing our way into the rivers (or puddles), because all we really can do is embrace what comes our way, and laugh as we run free into the horizon.