Picking them up and laying them down

The second wave of runners in the Boston marathon started slowly. The crowd was thick, and only a slow jog was possible as we crossed the start line. There was an ocean of bobbing heads on the road ahead.

I wore a synthetic t-shirt, running shorts, sox and shoes. The sun was bright, and as I ran along the right side of the road, I looked for a discarded cap that I might pick up to wear. It had been chilly at the runner's village, with a stiff breeze. On the road the wind was behind us, and the sun felt warm.

Mile 1 felt slow, and came in at 7:55.

I'd shared a seat on the school bus ride out to Hopkington with an E.R. doctor from Buffalo named Gregg. Like me, he had small children, and we talked about life in the midwest and running. He warned me to stay out of the sun at the athletes village, and recommended going easy on the first downhill miles of the race.

It was like this the whole weekend. I kept striking up conversation with cool, interesting people at every turn. It was like being on the Appalachian Trail with thru-hikers. Everyone was engaging in their passion, and as this was shared, there was an ease in chatting with strangers. Where are you from? What are you looking to do today?

Mile 2 was 7:30. Many people had discarded gloves and hats along the side of the road. I hadn't found a cap yet. The crowd was still dense, but the corral staging seemed reasonable - we were all running a similar pace.

3 was 7:45. The route passed in front of people's houses, and I slapped hands with children who were watching the race.

Mile 4 was 7:51. I was hot already.

5 was 7:47. I carried my usual fuel: small doughnuts and a brownie in a plastic bag. My forehead was sweaty. At a water stop I took water and ate a doughnut.

6,7, and 8 were 7:47, 7:45, and 7:55, respectively.

I didn't feel bad, but the running didn't feel effortless either. Had I done too much sight-seeing the day before? My legs felt a little tired.

Mile 9 was 8:10, but this included a pee break.

10 was 7:35. I took on more water, and had a bit of my brownie. I was back on pace, and in double digits.

11 was 7:53.

12 was slightly downhill in the approach to Wellesley. I saw a tall guy trip and fall here, though he was up and running again rapidly.

In mile 13 I could here the women of Wellesly college screaming their support to the runners. I'd read about the tradition of these women kissing runners, and now I saw that many students had signs indicating why you should kiss them: "Kiss me if you are from NYC"; "Kiss me if you are from Utah".

I was content to just slap hands.

But then I saw an unusual one: "Kiss me, I'm a neuroscientist".

I teach neuroscience. So I stopped and kissed a Wellesly neuroscientist wearing a green sweater.

Mile 13 was 7:40. I passed the half-marathon point in Wellesly at 1:42.

Now I was starting to tire a bit. My right achilles was tight, and my left quadricep felt sore.

15 was 7:56.

16, with the downhill to route 128, was 7:33.

17, with the first of the Newton hills, was tough. I was starting to suffer. My achilles and left leg were sore, and I was taking water now frequently. This mile came in at 8:19.

Mile 18 was 8:28. My pace had slipped, but this was a hilly mile.

19 was 8:08.

20 was 8:39.

21, with Heartbreak Hill, came in at 9:40. Now I was moving into survival mode. My legs felt spent. I started to think about just gettng to the next mile marker. The crowds were frenetic. I'd never run is such an atmosphere before.

22 was 9:31. Now on Beacon Street, I was entering a private world of exhaustion. I took water or Gatorade at every stop, and had to stop myself from downing the entire cup. I'd read somewhere a quote from an ultra-marathoner - Ann Trayson? - who said that it hurts up to a point, and then doesn't get any worse. I kept that in mind, but it seemed to be getting worse.

23 was 10:12. Yesterday I'd walked through Coolidge Corner, and now all I could do was shuffle through.

Mile 24 was 10:50. Many people were passing me. I had nothing left in my legs. If it had been an emergency, I probably could have sprinted another 100 meters, but that was all that was left.

I switched to run-walk. I'd run for a minute, then walk for 30 seconds. Now, my goal was to get to the finish line with the little bit of energy I had left.

This worked well for a bit. The walk breaks strengthend my run periods, and I'd catch the same people who'd run past me on the walk segments.

The small rise in the road over the highway caused my left calf suddenly felt like it had been put in a vice. I couldn't run. People shouted at me to keep going, but I could only hobble. Mile 25 took me 14:38.

My mother and sister were waiting for me at Kenmore Square. I started running again, and my sister snapped a photo.





I started running as the route headed towards Boylston Streeet. I was near a guy dressed as a cave-man, running barefoot. I saw the finish line and tried to run hard, but cramped again for a bit. This eased, and then I ran across the finish line, with the last 1.2 mile segment taking me 11:44.

I finished in 3:44:39.

*

I'd started this blog two years ago as a way of documenting my attempts to qualify for and run the Boston marathon. I tried to qualify at the Edinburgh marathon, but failed. Later that same year, I was able to run a qualifying time at the Loch Ness marathon.

To finish this blog, I was hoping to describe was how, at Boston, I'd picked up the miles and layed them down.

But the race didn't go that way.

Still, I was there, and it was terrific.

It's not long now...

37 days until the Boston marathon.

*

Somehow, the marathon is almost here.

Reluctlantly, I'm forced to concede that the bulk of my training is done.

I'm going to try for another 20 miler this weekend, and then I'm doing a half-marathon race next weekend, then a 20 miler the weekend after this, and then tapering. So, really, just two more proper long runs for this training cycle.

As usual, I don't feel particularly ready, but when I think about it I have done a lot of running. Listening to various running podcasts on my way to and from work, and particularly Marathon Talk, has made me feel that others do much more mileage. I wonder though, if running time, rather than mileage, might be a more appropriate comparison. My suspicion is that it may be easier to book higher mileages if your baseline pace is fast.

For me, it has been challeng to get out as much as I do now, with work, and my children. I had a good 20-miler last weekend, so if I can book one or two more of these, I'll be more confident.

My goal for Boston is to enjoy it. (OK, I'd like to run a good race, and break my marathon personal best as well.)

*

This morning we woke to snow, and a few inches have accumulated since that time. The snow is wet, and walking across our deck I left slushy footprints.

Running in the snow

141 days until the Boston Marathon.

*

This weekend we had an early-season snow storm. On Saturday morning, we awoke to four inches of snow on the ground. Today, Sunday, there were six more inches.

Since I've lived in Scotland, snow has been pretty rare. We've had years where we really only had a dusting once or twice in the whole winter. Last year was the first time in 12 years that we had a proper accumulation - we had snow on the ground for almost a month starting the week before Christmas.

So, snow is a bit of a novelty here, and my children love to go sledding in our back garden (yard).

As mentioned in my last post, on Sundays I often meet up with some friends at a local woodland park for a morning run. It's particularly fun when there's snow on the ground, so I was off at 9:40 this morning to meet them. The snow slowed my run up to the park, and I missed my fellow runners, but was able to follow their tracks. Eventually I caught up, and enjoyed a good run through nearly a foot of snow on the trails. It would have been a great morning for cross-country skiing.

The snow intensified as we ran, and when I returned, there was a harsh wind. My face was numb, and my hands were cold (my gloves, by the end of the run, were wet). Several cars were having difficulty getting traction on the un-plowed roads.

I arrived back at the house after this 12-mile run 2:07 after I'd set out. My legs
were beat after slipping through the snow for two hours.

*

I've been reading 26 Miles to Boston by Michael Connelly. He walks through the race mile by mile, and now that I'll be actually doing it, I'm finding the description of the Newton Hills much more anxiety provoking. The fact that they come so late in the race - near mile 21 - is a sobering thought.

I've got some work to do this winter.

Looking forward...

180 days until the Boston Marathon.

*

Yesterday I registered. I wanted to be sure I got in, and attempted to register as soon as the online site opened. It wasn't working, and I retyped my details on the entry form, submitted them, and had them erased repeatedly. I could see from the twitter feed that others were having the same problem - likely the Boston Athletic Association's servers were pretty busy.

Eventually, after more than an hour, my wife was able to get my form submitted. I see this morning that registration is full, so this effort was worth it. Can the race be full already? Wow.

*

The two weeks since the Loch Ness Marathon have been pretty light, running-wise. I did 5 or 6 miles in total the week after the race, and then caught a stomach bug that was working its way through my family. I didn't run for 5 days, perhaps the longest break I've taken from running in a year or so (excluding my backpacking trip). I ran this past Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, getting in about 19 miles all told.

How to qualify for the Boston Marathon?

I haven't formally started training for my qualifying marathon yet, but it's now less than a year away.

Again, my goal is to qualify for Boston, and to do so I need to run a 3:30:59.

Listening to a an episode of Steve Runner's Phedippdations podcast a little while ago, I felt that my implicit strategy for training was wrong. Steve reviewed the 9 principles of Arthur Newton, an early expert on marathon training.

One of Newton's principles was to focus on the target race, and not do other races.

Hmm. I'm basically doing the opposite.

So, these are my principles:

1) Run as many races as I can. Basically, because I like running races, because they are intermediate training targets, and because an occasional bad race is less of a big deal if its just one of many you are doing. Now, I'm not talking marathons of course, but halfs, 10-Ks, and hill races. For me, no training session ever matches the intensity of a race. My goal is to run as many races as I can.

2) Run hills. Again, simply because I like them. Aside from the physical strength gains, I think running hills makes you mentally tough (in a running sense).

3) Speed work. There's a clarity of purpose about running intervals on the track that I savour. It's just about you, the distance, and the time. It can be hard quarters, or fast miles. After a couple of sessions, you start to feel strong. For my marathon training, I'll probably lean towards running fast mile intervals.

4) Long runs. At least one of these a week - possible two as I get in real training. My goal, as mentioned in a previous post, is to build up mileage on "The Road" near my work. Today, I can run 10 miles reasonably comfortably there. The complete distance, when I can do it, will be 19 miles.

Wise and worldly runners, what advice might you impart for someone aspiring to qualify for Boston?

Introduction

O.K. Here's my story. I'm a 43-year old male, married, with two small children. My goal in life is to hike the Appalachian Trail, but, given the constraints inherent the circumstances mentioned above, my interim goal is to run the Boston Marathon. Just once. By qualifying.

This blog will be the diary of my efforts to do so.

Am I fast? Not exactly. On any given race I usually finish in the 66th percentile. That is, I'm usually ahead of 2/3 of the crowd, and behind the other 1/3. So, I guess, you could describe me as a middle-of-the-pack runner.

To qualify for Boston, I need to run a 3:30:59 time in another marathon. But, I hear you say, don't you need a 3:20 time as a 43-year-old to qualify? Yes. But that's to run next year's Boston. I want to shoot for a marathon that will occur next year, when I am 44, to have a qualifying time for Boston the year after, when I'm 45. So, I'm starting now.

But I don't just want to qualify and complete Boston. I want to run strong.

I want to pick up the miles and lay them down