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Mike post-race
Photo courtesy of Jimmy Shelton |
By Mike Luebeck
Here it is: the post-Boston Marathon writeup! This was my first Boston and my fourth marathon overall. I'm not sure where to start with this one. Considering the conditions, and the fact that I missed my goal – it was an unbelievable experience. I was aiming for a qualifying time for next year and, more ambitiously, to break through that sub 3-hour barrier. When I say “considering the conditions”, I'm not using the weather as an excuse for missing my goal – I had some really impressive training runs this winter in far less than favorable conditions when compared to yesterday. My last 24 mile long run was done in a snowstorm with a consistent 15-20mph headwind from the NE. Just for good measure, the last 4 of those miles were repeats of Heartbreak Hill done at my goal race pace. Throw in my other long runs, 75 mile weeks, speed workouts, some great Grand Prix races, and plenty of support from the Greater Lowell Road Runners, and it all seemed to add up to a great training cycle. As some people told me, I was fully weaponized.
And then BOOM – Allergies (yes with a capital A). Mother Nature decided she had one more trick up her sleeve. She must have known that I didn't care about the rain, the wind, or the temperature (which was actually plenty warm compared to the previous 3 months). I felt the symptoms coming on strong on Saturday and made sure to take in more vitamins and drink much more water. Sleep was only adequate at best. But I was headstrong, and knew that I had to trust my training. I kept thinking, hey, my quad muscles don't have runny noses, and my calves aren't the ones sneezing. Trust the training – the hard work was done.
So that's what I did – I gave Mother Nature one last flick of the middle finger and then crossed the starting line. The first mile was a little slow due to the volume of people, but was still pretty close to what I wanted to start off at. I eased closer my goal pace over the next few miles and kept it within 5-10 seconds/mile slower for the first ¾ of the entire course. There were only two miles where I got slightly ambitious, barely dipping under my goal pace by a few seconds. That was OK, I thought, as my momentum carried me down some of the hills – I was careful not to over-exert my energy. In the first half, I ran a solid pace with another guy from Vancouver for probably 5 miles (the crowd saw his shirt and yelled “Go Vancouver!” every 15 seconds). So around mile 8 I finally took off my over-shirt, which initially helped shield me from the rain, and threw it aside. Finally, I bared my Greater Lowell singlet and from then on whenever I heard “Go Vancouver!”, I would also hear “Go Lowell!”. It really was the crowd that made the race as fun as it was. If I had to give one shout-out to someone who shouted out to me, it would have to be Scott Casper. When I went past him in Wellesley, around mile 14ish, he was standing out there yelling my name louder than an irate NBA head coach who just got a technical foul for standing too far out onto the court with his hands up in the air. It was a most welcome sight.
The mental battle for me started around halfway – mile 13 or so. I started to think that running 13 more miles was going to be quite an undertaking – so I put my head down and regained my focus, even with crowds of people screaming around me. I found a nice comfortable groove for a mile or so, but that didn't last as long as I wanted it to. I started to worry about my glycogen levels much earlier than I normally do, as I feared that some of my vital energy reserves were being used to keep my body in check against the Allergy monster. Every time I coughed, I could feel each muscle twinge from my torso down. I definitely PR'd in snot rockets for the day, and at one point I remember feeling like each cup of water I drank would only replenish the amount that I blew out of my nose. As I approached the Newton hills I was already fighting my own monster, but dammit I was fighting it well.
My pace remained steady and on target up until the firehouse to about the 30 kilometer mark, and I slowed down on the hills a little bit as expected. I still felt energized going up Heartbreak, especially when I saw Sullivan – also running strong through the hills on basically a broken foot or something like that – who still found better words of encouragement for me than most of the crowd: “Go get 'em playa!” I made it to the top and planned my recovery on the backside downhill portion. The only problem is this recovery never came. Just as I had worried, my energy reserves were minimal. My legs didn't loosen up, and at one point I coughed and almost pulled 6 different muscles at once. So there I was, with 4 miles to go, realizing that my energy was maxed out.
That was a really, really long 4 miles. If anyone bumped into me, I was certain my body would break. But this was friggin' Boston. There was no way I was walking, even though my pace dropped down to the point where I thought I could probably speed-walk faster. I took off my now-empty and perfectly fine 25 dollar GU pouch holder and threw it aside because I thought that all 0.5 ounces of it would slow me down terribly. If I never saw an elevation map of the course, I would tell you with certainty that the last 10k is all uphill (it's really almost all downhill). 3 miles left... 2 miles left... 1 mile left... finish. 3 hours, 21 minutes, 33 seconds. 14 minutes off my PR, but more so from my goals.
In leveling with myself, I just ran 26.2 miles (26.5 due to weaving and missed tangents) on the most venerated course in the entire world. It was an amazing experience and I owe thanks for all the support from my training partners (you all know who you are), “advisers”, friends, family, Greater Lowell Road Runners, and other competitors I've met along the way.
And Mother Nature – nice try, but you haven't killed me yet. Gonna have to do better than that.
