Coach’s Wisdom
“Stay off the bike! The leg muscles work in the opposite direction that will counter any improvement in your running!” These words from my coach were on repeat in my mind throughout my Boston Marathon training cycle. This would finally be the year I was going to work on my bike training and finally conquer the 100-mile ride. Instead, I had to make sacrifices. Sacrifices to run my best Boston Marathon.
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| Finally meeting Meb Keflezighi at the 2018 Boston Marathon expo |
Here I was in Hopkinton, a town not unlike any other familiar New England town. There was nothing special here. It was just cold, windy rain that would start and stop in torrential downpours. The last minute adjustments were a major help. I’ve done everything I could to get here, listened to my coach attentively, and ready to give my best effort yet.
“Wear a light jacket, wear shorts, cover your ears, and wear gloves. The weather is going to be bad out there.” Coach said during our previous day’s phone pep-talk as I was stood in line to meet Marathon Champion, Meb Keflezighi.
“I don’t have a light jacket, but I was going to wear a singlet and my half tights. I figure once I get running, I should be fine.”
“NO! Get at least a shirt to cover your shoulders! Wear the shorts instead of the half tights! Your legs are going to be heavy with the half tights in the rain!”
Well here’s some extra stress I wasn’t anticipating. I wasn’t planning on buying anything extra besides my celebration jacket and souvenir glass for my collection. I packed light, choosing to only bring things that can fit in a backpack for the Amtrak ride from Penn Station to South Station.
At the top of Heartbreak Hill my calves were burning. The last time I felt this much strain in my calves was mile 23 of my San Francisco Marathon, June 2013. It had cramped up on me then, and I was worried it would cramp up on me in now. Were my legs heavy as Coach said it would be? I didn’t spring for the shorts as suggested. I bought the shirt to cover my shoulders, and managed to find a free neck scarf from Janji on Seaport Blvd, just 5 minutes walk from the expo. But it was too late for any extra, out-of-budget spending.
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| The great Katherine Switzer opened doors for gender equality in marathon running. Gives a shout out to Central Park Track Club during our brief interaction. |
It was probably the extra weight I was carrying. My calves weren’t used to carrying as much in a marathon. All of my strength training focus was on my quads and hips. I did everything I could to strengthen the area around my weak left hamstring. One can say I was successful in that regard. No hamstring pain throughout the entire marathon; not even the burning warning signals.
When It Rains It Pours:
“Maintain a 7:15 pace until you reach mile 18, then make your move.” Coach drilled this into my head before we ended the call. “If you find yourself going too fast in any particular mile, make up for it on the next by slowing down, and vice versa.”
Coach knew exactly where I was at and how I did in my training. My original plan was to do what I always do: stay as close as possible to 7 or 7:10, and then see where I was at after Mile 20. I could either try to run my best in the final 10k, or hold back to prevent injury if I had enough of a cushion. His adjustments weren’t that far off what my original intentions were, but it was clear he wanted me to make it through Boston injury free.
The weather had a different plan for my pacing. There would be no best marathon yet. As I arrived at Boston Commons via Uber (my first time ever using Uber on my own) by 6:30 A.M, I knew this wasn’t going to be pretty. I made sure to keep my throw away gear on to the start gun, Wave 1 Corral 8. That first run jacket I bought in my Team In Training days was finally gone.
So many sacrifices to make it Boston and I was confident I can run my best Boston, regardless of the weather. The winds were blowing… in the opposite direction of my path to the finish. A battle indeed but I was holding the coach’s pace. Thirty mile per hour winds were not enough t
o discourage me. Especially in the net downhill first half.
The torrential downpour came intermittently. The rain combined with the wind made it difficult for my legs to get warm. I’ve run enough of these to know when I can effortlessly adjust speed, kick when I needed to, and settle in to my desired pace. Instead it was cold, brittle strides with every foot strike. As long as I followed the coach’s wisdom and if my legs could warm up by mile 18, this could still be my best marathon yet.
The Bladder Has a Different Plan:
My first pee stop was immediately after the start gun in Hopkinton. I found my usual rhythm. Quick grab and go at every water stop: Gatorade – sip – water – sip – water – overhead if I was hot, or sip otherwise. It became an art for me.
“You grab water like a pro”, runner directly behind me complimented me. Immediately after I hear those words, I can hear the screams of Coach Ramon Bermo whom I assisted during those American Cancer Society workouts, “Go DAVID!! You GOT this … (maybe something in Spanish because he was so loud)… Great job!” … or something along those lines. This man was at mile 6 cheering with his windbreaker hood on by himself in the pouring rain. Incredible!!
This is going to be a great race! I’m finally feeling good. The weather can’t deter me. My bladder can, though. I my pace began to uncontrollably slow, that sensation came at the 15K. It’s not like me to have to go again so badly so soon. I had been running for an hour and I thought, “OK… another 30 seconds won’t hurt.” The next two available port-a-potties were occupied so I stopped went on the nearby pavement sidewalk.
The sensation returned as I ran through the Scream Tunnel. “So these are the Wellesley girls that offer kisses to the runners! They look really young. Thank you, but no thank you,” as my thoughts briefly moved away from my urge to go. “If I ever saw my little sister out there, trying to kiss sweaty (on a drier day) strangers running by… man….” That soon left my head as I knew that would NEVER happen. And then came my 3rdbathroom break of the race. With the rains and the winds continuing, I started thinking about my health. It was very unusual for me to have to go this often. “Maybe I need to see a doctor when I return to New York.”
Survival Mode:
One hour thirty-seven minutes at the halfway mark. My race was slower than usual but I knew I could still salvage this thing for my best marathon yet. My legs were still strong. All I needed was that one good kick and settle into a dominant race pace that could get me to an amazing finish. Each foot strike was still brittle and cold that would just linger in my lower legs. Freezing and wet, my legs soon became numb as another sensation came just before the last downhill leading to the Newton Hills
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| Worst Boston Marathon conditions in 30 years |
By then I was miserable. I could have paced the rest of the race with Roland, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I still felt I had a shot to make this thing great. If only my legs would get warm already. After 18 miles, all these pee breaks had taken away about 3 minutes off my time.
Pee stop number 6 at mile 18, and I thought, “I should be making my move!” But I knew Christine and the rest of the Brooklyn Tri Club were about half a mile away. Keeping my eyes peeled, I see the big sign they had made for me. I quickly ran to it and tap on it several times. This was my second brief moment of joy as I gave Christine a hug and feeling so grateful for their cheers. The first time anyone held a sign with my name on it during a marathon.
Again, misery returned as I started Heartbreak Hill. The extra stride length with every step of the first 16 miles stretched my leg muscles. It brought a new kind of leg pain during this ascension. I can feel myself running slower with every step. Anger started to settle in the below freezing weather, and I had to pee yet again. I focused on the port-a-potty at the top of what I now know was the end of Heartbreak Hill.
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| First marathon sign dedicated to me ever by the Brooklyn Tri Club |
“Your Heartbreak is Over!” The guy holding those words in a sign made eye contact as I came to a complete stop in front of the bathroom. “It’s OVER!” I told him. That last mile took me 10 minutes, as my watch beeped for mile mark. I relieved myself for the 7thand final time, realizing my legs had no kick for a late race surge. I was angry that I allowed myself to be in such a vulnerable position. The wind was blowing fierce, the rain would precipitate in surges that made the nearby wheel chair athlete struggle to make it to the top of the same hill. It was a rough day for many. A PR or anything close was far from my mind. I just wanted to survive this thing and go home.
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| Approaching the finish - 2018 Boston Marathon |
I had a 5:30 PM train to catch at South Station. Any delay would risk me not being able to make it into work tomorrow. Thus walking was out of the question. I jogged. Mad at myself for running through this terrible weather. No marathon was worth this. But then I thought as I approached mile 24, this was the Boston Marathon. I worked so hard to get here. It was more than just this race.
Reaching the Finish Line:
“Great! Just what we needed!” a runner to the side of me sighed as another torrential downpour mixed with hail started poking at our face. The brim of my CPTC cap had blocked the drops giving me a visible path forward. It was a slow and steady jog to the finish.
Salvaging my legs for the next race, while the next race was far from my mind. Rather the 13 previous marathons, the training runs, the different run clubs, the charity fundraising campaigns, the amazing friends I met, the travel, the health benefits, clogged my brain, all at once, as my legs kept moving. Each little hill on the net downhill of the last 5 miles, gave my legs Heartbreak Hill flashbacks.
‘ONE MILE TO GO” That huge yellow unicorn painted on the road in Kenmore Square came before my eyes as my head remained down while hail drops hit my brim.
“Run with dignity!” a wise coach at Central Park Track Club once said. I did just that as I locked into form like it was the Weekly Form Run with the North Brooklyn Runners. My survival instincts carried me through those last miles, in the face of horrific weather trying to blow me off course. One last mile soon became a right turn on Hereford Street, from Commonwealth Avenue. Then another left turn to Boylston Street and the street wide John Hancock signs above the finish line was 600 meters away. The crowds were roaring and emotion overwhelming me. Another World Marathon Major with two to go! And this one was about survival.
“It was only two days ago, I was running in 70 degree weather! But today, this is what I get for my first Boston Marathon! Lucky me!” I declared to the unknown runner while waiting for the start in the mud drenched Athlete’s Village in Hopkinton.
“Lucky us, my friend!” he replied. “We are going to get through this together!”
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| On the Amtrak, headed home with my well earned bling. |
THANK YOU:
- Coach John Henwood for his consistent guidance, meaningful advice, and steady patience, with an occasional kick in the butt. - http://www.johnhenwood.com
- Coach Ramon Bermo, of Team DetermiNation for cheering in the horrible Boston Marathon weather. Just another example continued selflessness towards the runner's community.
- The NYC Muscle Whisperer, Ria Magtoto, for helping to keep me injury-free throughout my 800 mile training winter. - http://www.nycmusclewhisperer.com
- And my teammates at the Central Park Track Club - New Balance for the continued inspiration.
_ The Brooklyn Tri Club for the cheers and those open water swims that have made me a stronger runner.
_ The Brooklyn Tri Club for the cheers and those open water swims that have made me a stronger runner.
- The Illinois Chapter of the American Cancer Society's Team DetermiNation for setting up my latest fundraising campaign
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