Race Report: Boston Marathon 2014

This year's Boston Marathon was about so much more than completing 26.2 miles. I was burnt out, under-trained, and until about 3 days before the race, my heart wasn't even in it. That all changed as soon as I got to the Expo on Friday afternoon. Our team brunch was on Saturday morning which got me pumped up even more, and then my friend Trish (a qualified runner) arrived on Saturday afternoon. It was a weekend full of good vibes. Since this wasn't a typical race for me, I'm not going to write a typical race report. And even though so much is being said about the marathon in the mainstream media that captures the day so well, I like to preserve my own memories.

Top 10 Memorable Moments

10. Marathon Morning at Home
Even though our Run For Research team had team buses from the Westin at Copley to take us to Athlete's Village, I decided to take the BAA bus this year. I would have had to leave my house at 4:45am to get to the team bus, as opposed to 7am for the BAA bus. It was the difference between setting 3 alarms, and setting none (ok, I still set 3 alarms, but I woke up before they went off!) I was able to watch the WBZ TV coverage for an hour after I woke up, which was really exciting even though nothing was happening that early. They kept checking in with the reporter at Athlete's Village who would say, "No one is here yet!" It was still a good pre-race buzz to see television coverage and get a sense for the enormity of the event. I remember feeling disappointed that I was running the marathon because I felt like I was missing out on all of the excitement for the day ahead -- and yes, I knew how absurd that was even as I was feeling it.

9. BAA bus
At 7am, my dad picked me up and we headed to pick-up Trish at her hotel in Brookline, right on the marathon course, and then continued on the course down through Kenmore Square and over to the Common where the buses were lined up. It was really exciting to drive down Beacon Street. Even though I had the thought that the next time I would be there would be 9 hours later, that didn't freak me out. When we got to the Common, there was definitely a buzz in the air. This is where athletes could check their race day bags, which was new this year since no bags were allowed to be brought to Athlete's Village. We saw Jennie and Caryn from the Liver team, which was nice because it made me feel less guilty about skipping out on the team bus. After Trish checked her bag and we took advantage of the short lines at the port-a-potties, we got on the yellow school bus and waited to set off for Hopkinton. What I remember most about the bus ride was feeling like a celebrity just for being on the bus. People were literally standing on the sidewalks of Boston watching the buses go by and waving and cheering to us. We wouldn't start running for another 2.5 hours, but we were already feeling the love from the spectators in the City of Boston. As we cruised down the highway, there was more of the same. Cars would honk their horns happily as they passed us, waving to us from inside their cars. Maybe it's like that every year, but this year it just felt like the entire state was psyched for what we were about to do. We arrived at Athlete's Village and got to spend about an hour relaxing before heading to the starting corrals.

Go Liver!

Me & Trish at Athlete's Village

8. Hopkinton the Ghost Town
Because of the increased field size for the 2014 Boston Marathon, there was a 4th wave added to the start. I was in back of the 3rd wave which was a mix of both qualified runners and charity runners, though most of the charity runners were in the 4th wave. I was psyched about this because with 25 minutes between waves, it gave me a headstart toward the finish line, which closes 6.5 hours after the last runner crosses the start line. (My finish time was 6:27:24, so I'm glad I had that extra cushion on the time!) I stopped at port-a-potty heaven on my way to the start line, and as a result, was way in the back of the pack for wave 3. By the time we reached the 1k marker on the course (which I was sure was the 1 mile marker -- not a good sign 1k into a 42k race) I was already mostly alone on the course. It was a very odd feeling. The previous two years that I did Boston, I remember the pack being pretty thick until about mile 9. I was .62 miles into the race and there were probably 50 yards between me and the next runner on the course. The spectators were in clumps here too -- hundreds of people at the start, and hundreds of people further down the course, but in some spots there were just a few people cheering us on from their lawns. I didn't run with my headphones so I just remember everything being so quiet. It was unreal, especially since I was just with 32,000 people about an hour ago, and with 9,000 people less than 10 minutes ago. I think if I was in the 4th wave, I might have panicked. Knowing that more people were coming soon put me at ease so I just kept running. I was trying to keep my average pace at about 14:00/mile, since I knew I was capable of sustaining most of the marathon at that pace. The problem with that pace is that that is a run/walk pace, and this early in the race, I didn't really want or need to walk. I kept forcing walk breaks but my pace was still close to 13:00/mile. It felt comfortable, but I knew I'd pay for it later if I didn't make a conscious effort to slow down.

7. Riding the Wave
I think the most fun part of the entire day was when the 4th wave caught up to us, around mile 2.5. At first it was comical. The lead runner had a police escort and he was FLYING! Meanwhile, I'm walking on the side of the road. That's the great thing about marathons -- they are roomy and all inclusive. All are welcome. (Yes, even the Boston Marathon that is for the best of the best -- we are welcome there too, like it or not.) As more and more runners passed me, it suddenly felt like the marathon I was expecting but had been missing for the past 2.5 miles. We were also approaching a spot were the spectators were out in what felt like the thousands. They crowded the roads so much that the race course funneled down to half the width of the road and the runners were packed in tight. This made it super hard to do my forced walk breaks because I literally had no where to go. I tried to get to the side of the course, but there were so many spectators wanting me to high five them, and yelling to me when I was walking that I should "push it!" and "keep going!" and "power through!" I wanted to tell them, "You don't understand! I'm trying to slow down!" but I just kept going, walking when I could, and running when the urge swept me up just like the crowd of runners.

6. BEATH MODE ON!
My first known spectator was at mile 5.9. I missed Steve last year and was super conscious of where I was on the course this year so I wouldn't miss him again. He did not disappoint, and as I approached, this is what I saw:

Best sign of the day!

5. Family on the course
I say it after every race, every year, but I have the best family! They are professional spectators and this year was no different. My dad was at mile 6.5 just after the Framingham train station, and then my mom, aunt and cousins were all at the Wellesley line at mile 11.8. I didn't know my cousin Jane was planning to be there, so that surprise gave me a nice little shot of adrenaline. I saw my dad again at mile 16.5, and then my Mom and my sister were on the Newton Hills at mile 19 and again on Boylston Street. Spectating is hard work, even if you're not moving from place to place. At Trish's suggestion, I took a page out the Disney Marathon playbook (biofreeze at every aid station) and had my mom hand me Icy Hot roll-on to apply to my muscles at miles 11.8 and 19. I might start running with this in my fuel belt so I can reapply every couple of miles. Eat a gel, numb your legs. Repeat.

Cheering squad! And yes, my mom is rocking a Glam Runner tutu.

4. Spectators & Liver Love
In addition to my family, I also had about 1 million other spectators there to cheer me on, including about 10 people who I know personally. If you've ever spectated at a race, you might not feel like you are making a difference, but it means everything! The spectators this year were truly amazing. It didn't feel like they were just passing the time watching a marathon, it felt like it was their mission in life to get you to the finish line. And in a way, it was. In a year where the mutual feeling was "Everyone finishes," the spectators were doing their job. The added benefit of being on the Liver Team with 300+ runners is that you have built-in spectators on the course -- both fellow runners, but also anyone who is there to cheer on another Liver runner. There were countless people shouting "Go Liver" and even if I didn't know them personally, it didn't matter. It was always encouraging and motivating. The official Liver cheering station was at mile 17 -- shout out to Hung and Coach Kate who were still there when I passed.

Photo credit: Hung Pham.

3. Running past Park Drive
I don't think I started to cry actual tears until about mile 24.5 in the race. As I ran through the intersection of Park Drive and Beacon Street which had been barricaded a year ago, I was overcome with emotion. These were not tears of sadness for last year, or tears of pain for my current physical state. I'm not quite sure how to describe it except that it felt like the moment I didn't know I had been waiting for all year long. It was redemption, it was victory, it was a celebration. The last 1.2 miles of the course might as well have been a straight shot with the finish line in sight. The crowds were out in full force in Kenmore so it felt like a finish line. Right at about the 25 mile marker, there were two cops in the street on the course, facing the runners. Instead of them telling us, "The race is over, you are done now" as they had done a year ago, these two cops were high fiving every single runner than went by them, and were so enthusiastic about it. It was completely awesome, but of course all I could do was keep on crying.

2. Right on Hereford, Left on Boylston
Taking the famous right turn on Hereford and then a left onto Boylston was surreal. It's the image that any Boston Marathoner has in his or her head all season, and for a lot of us, it was in our head for one year and a week. Adding to the marathon emotion was seeing the firehouse on the corner of Hereford & Boylston, which lost two fire fighters in a fire last month -- one of the fallen was supposed to be running the marathon that day. These kind of compounded, devastatingly sad plot lines put Nicholas Sparks to shame! Running down Boylston Street to thousands of cheering fans was simply incredible. I would go so far as to say there is nothing like it in the world. I've crossed many finish lines, but this one felt different. It wasn't the usual "thank God I'm done!" or "I can't believe I did it!" feeling. It wasn't about the end of the race at all, really. I was totally in the moment and grateful to be there, overwhelmed with love for the city, the marathon, the spectators, the volunteers, the organizers, and all of those first responders who were there just in case. There was an overpowering emotion of "How lucky am I that I get to do this." My teammate Lisa had finished a few minutes ahead of me and was still in the finish chute when I crossed, so it was awesome to have some immediate liver love there at the finish. Also at the finish, on the other side of the fence, was my friend Dave, who I hadn't seen in 18 (!!!!!) years, although he looks exactly the same so it might as well have been last week that I saw him. He was able to capture the obligatory marathon-finisher-with-medal photo.

1. Post-race liver love
This was my third Boston, but because of last year, only my second time making it to the Westin for the liver team's post-race party. The first year didn't really count because I was in such a rush to get home to where family members were waiting to celebrate, so I didn't stick around. I stuck around this year, and it was fabulous. I got an awesome massage with 3 sets of hands on me at the same time. There was salty food and diet coke. I got to congratulate so many of my liver peeps that were still there (I wasn't the only one who didn't care about time this year, so it was nice that they weren't sweeping the floors and taking out the trash by the time I arrived.) Trish was there too, after she ripped up the course in about 4.5 hours, walked a mile to the Common to get her checked bag, took the T to her hotel, showered, took the T back to the Boylston St. area and then walked to the hotel. Perfect timing! Since I likely will not be back for a 4th year with the team or to run the Boston Marathon, this was a great ending to an incredible day.

Thanks again to everyone who has supported me over the past three years. I was able to raise almost $17,000 for the American Liver Foundation. I had three very distinct Boston Marathon experiences, ranging from intolerable heat, to a PR that never would be, to one of the most memorable days of my life. I cannot wait to come back next year as a volunteer and a spectator. Go Liver!