Monday was the 127th running of the Boston Marathon, and it was the ten-year anniversary of the bombings. It was also my first time running in the marathon, which had been a huge goal of mine to not only qualify for it, but also go and run a respectable time. Over the years, I have heard a lot of stories about Boston, from how incredible the crowds are to how tough the hills are. I have even read books about people running Boston, and of course I have watched the races on TV, but nothing can prepare you for the actual experience.
The whole process of getting to the start line is a bit much. My start time was not until ten, but I had to get up at five, because my bus loading time to take me to Hopkington was at 6:45. So after getting ready at the house, Ryan and I headed to the train to go downtown. While walking, there was a wild turkey crossing the road, which I am pretty sure is good luck, then I found two dollars on the floor, so the day was off to a good start. On the train, we had the chance to briefly talk to some of the medical professionals that were going to be on the course and thank them for helping. After the train we went to the bag check, and then head to the buses.
There are signs up on the way to the buses telling people to go to the bathroom, because it is a long bus ride. You do not realize how far a marathon is, until you take a bus ride from the finish line to the start line, and it takes about 40 minutes. When I got off the bus, I looked to Ryan and said, “Well there is only one way back now.” It is funny to think about the fact that tens of thousands of people pay over $200 every year to get dropped off 26.2 miles away from Boston, only to immediately run right back.
By the time we finally sat down at the athletes village, we only had 45 minutes before starting the march to the start line, which was not that bad. I was pretty convinced we would be sitting there for hours, and that the morning would feel like it was taking forever, but it actually went by pretty quick. Before I knew it, we were marching off into the fog with thousands of others, it felt like a movie, where thousands of soldiers are marching off to war ready to battle whatever beasts that are lurking in the fog ahead.
While walking to the start line, I told Ryan that I was surprised that we had not seen anybody that we knew, and literally a minute later, Ben, a guy who ran on a rival conference XC team came and said hello to me. When I got into the corral, I saw a guy who I ran against in Newport, and I got the chance to talk to him for a couple of minutes before the start. Then the race started, I found myself next to some guy that runs out of Rochester that I have raced against before. It truly is a small world. When the race starts it is so odd, because I have watched it on the TV multiple times, and it is like I know this place, but I really do not. It was like almost immediately a goose bumps moment, and there were many more to come.
Going into the race, I had two goals, to finish in the top 1,000, which last year meant running around a 2:40, and to not have to take any bathroom breaks, so it was funny to see people almost immediately hop off the course and start peeing before we had even made it a mile. My first mile was congested, but getting to start in the first corral meant that at least in the congestion, it was going to be a good pace. I felt like I was barely running, and I was very surprised to see that my first mile was a 6:02. Race adrenaline is one of the greatest things ever!
The first part of the race flew by, and after the first mile I hit a few sub 6s, and after mile four was a 5:45, I was like okay we need to slow it down. It was cool to go through all of the small towns and even their streets were lined with people cheering. At this point I was more focused on relaxing though than really enjoying their presence. At one point there was a gap starting to form between me and a group, and some guy ran up from behind me, and he said that he had been drafting off of me, if I wanted to hop behind me, and he led me back to the group, and while he was leading, if I started to stray to the side, he waved his hand like to stay behind him, enjoy the drafting. After we got back to the group, he slowly went up ahead of me, and I stayed behind, but around mile ten, I caught back up to him, and when I passed him, I ran in front of him for him to draft again, but he slowly faded into the great beyond of runners behind me.
At mile ten, I was a little worried about myself, my hips started to ache a little, it was not a big deal, but I was worried about what was to come (marathons are long), but then the crowd really starts to come in full force. The first massive spot was Wellesley College, which is the all-girls college, and they create the Scream Tunnel, and when they say you can hear it way before you see it, they were not lying. Also a guy running close to me had his phone out, and he was recording the girls, and this made them scream even louder. My ears were literally ringing once we got past them.
Then shortly after that it was the half way mark, at that point I was perfectly on pace to run my exact same time as Newport, but I knew the second half was going to be tougher, but I was in a great position to hit my sub 2:40 goal, but at that point my stomach started to not feel the best, and I was worried I was not going to accomplish my other goal of not using the bathroom, but thankfully after a couple more miles, the storm brewing inside of me had vanished . It was also around this time that I saw Katie and Jess, which was amazing. It is always great to have faces you know in the crowd cheering for you. So that was a huge added boost, and it helped keep me going. Then the second half, I really started to embrace the crowd.
There was something about crossing the halfway point where it was like okay this is real, I can do this, and not only can I do this, I am going to enjoy every inch of it, and it was this mindset that helped me make it through (Sometimes I like to talk to myself when I am running alone to give myself a pep talk). The back half of the race is loaded with the hills, but it is also loaded with the crowds. So I went to the left side of the road, which was less populated by runners, and I threw a big smile on my face and searched for eye contact for support, and if I got the support I would give a little wave or a thumbs up, and then if people saw that more people were likely to cheer up ahead, and with my head turned to the side, I did not have to look at the hill, so every hill was immediately less intimidating, because I was almost never looking at it to see how far I had to go to get to the top. I was so distracted on the hills, that I honestly do not know which one was heartbreak, but I do know that it did not break my heart.
Also having people cheer for you, and specifically you is such an energizing thing, so if they shouted out something like go Syracuse or go 718, or my personal favorite, that guy is smiling!? Keep having fun! I cannot put into words how important each cheer was for my morale.
At mile 21 there was a group of guys behind me, who asked a question that I had wanted an answer to, they started yelling out to the crowd, “Did Kipchoge win?” To which the person replied that he did not, so the guy yelled back and asked who won. It was something nice to distract my mind. I could not believe that Kipchoge did not win. I thought for sure that he had it. Some people said that the conditions were not ideal, but the lows 50s, cloudy, a slight head wind and with an occasional sprinkle were ideal to me! My body temperature felt great during the race, and rain that got me and my socks wet every once and a while were refreshing.
There was a spot sometime after the 20th mile, where the crowd thinned for a couple of minutes, and I was like I am not going to be able to hold on, but then the sweet elixir of cheering started again, and I was recharged to keep going. I spent so much time smiling that I was worried at one point that my face was going to cramp, and that it would just be stuck like that forever, I was literally in a full-on smile for miles. It is very evident in my race photos.
Even when the wind started in the later miles, I stayed more by myself on the left side of the road, so I could garner more of their attention and cheer, it was more important than having a small wind buffer of the other runners’ bodies. The whole race was very emotional, but once I got to the last 5k, and the pain really started to set in, and the cheering really started to get loud, I was having a hard time keeping it together emotionally. At mile 23, I started talking to myself again, saying that I am going to do this, I can keep it together, but my legs were brimming with lactic acid, they felt like they could cramp at any second, like a pain volcano ready to explode, thankfully they never did.
There was a spot that was right around mile 25 that I will never forget. I was in a small gap where there were no runners beside me, and no one right in front of me for a small space, and the roads were packed with a crowd, and I was looking to the left and smiling and waving, and the people just erupted in cheering, and then I looked to the right, and kept smiling and waved over to them, and then both sides were just going wild, just because I was smiling and waving so close to the end. They were cheering for me. It was and still is so surreal. I started getting choked up. Tears started welling in my eyes, and I had to remind myself to keep it together, but off and on that last mile I was overcome with emotion and so much gratitude for all these strangers, who were cheering me on to the finish. I made it on to ESPN for a couple of seconds on the final stretch going into the finish, and you can see the smile on my face and me waving to all the people.
When I crossed the finish line, I just wanted a hug, and immediately after I crossed, some other guys did as well, and before I knew it, I was in an embrace with some strangers. High fives and fist bumps were being given all around. An immediate lifetime bond was formed with these people I will never see again, but will always remember, and it was not just with those few at the end, there is a connection with everyone that was out there doing it. It felt like we were a massive team all with the same goal. To finish. Then not even ten seconds after I crossed the finish line, the bottom dropped out, and it started pouring. It was such a cool moment, and as I hobbled down through the finishing shoot, I just keep starting to cry over and over again. It was so overwhelming. I was just so happy. I felt so accomplished. So much work and commitment was dedicated to this moment, not just from the past few months, but over years of training all culminating in Boston on the biggest stage. I ran a 2:39:12, which hit my goal, and I finished 590th.
After the race we decided to meet at a brewery that was almost a mile away from the finish, and so I got my bag from the bag check, and I started my hobbling, but my arms were tired too, and I did not have the strength to hold the bag of food they gave me, so some people at the end of the chute asked me if I needed help, and they helped put my food bag in my other bag, and then they asked to take a picture of me, which is the thumbnail for this post, so shout out to them for thinking of encapsulating this special moment for me. Then I started my journey out into the real-world shivering because I was cold, wet, and completely deplete of energy. While walking over, I had to walk through a park, and it started to pour again, and I just kept thinking about the race, and at that point I was basically openly sobbing because there was no one around, so I did not care that I was ugly crying and making weird noises. Then for the next few hours, I kept getting teary eyed just thinking about the race, and when I talked to my dad on the phone, I could barely tell him about it. Even writing this now, the tears still feel like they are about to come. Then throughout the day, every time someone walked past with a Boston medal on their neck, everyone would congratulate each other, it was amazing.
Finally, I would like to thank everyone who has been on this journey with me. There have been so many miles with so many people, and there have been multiple groups that have been so supportive and helpful with training like Lake Effect and Syracuse Track Club. I would like to thank Jerry for his coaching and hill workouts, and Syracuse for its steep hills in general, because the hills slowed me down, but they by no means broke me, and that is thanks to all of the great long run routs Len had prepared for us through the winter. Thank you to everyone who came to Boston with me, cheered me on, and gave me a great place to stay and have fun. Thank you Boston for being an incredible host, and last but not least, thank you to my family, who always support me, and all the people who sent me messages after and commented on Strava to congratulate me. I greatly appreciate it all so much. This was one of the best days of my life, and it was all thanks to others helping me every step of the way. Thank you!
How beautiful and poetic and hilarious! Thank you Attilio!