Perfect day for a marathon, cool, sunny and a tailwind. I was poised for the run of my life, three years of training just waiting to be downloaded onto the holy grail of marathons. Everything went perfectly leading up to this race. I was healthy, strong and luckily suffered no set-backs, I was ready. The hotel was a small Boston block away from The Commons (Boston Park Plaza) where we caught the bus. I arrived at my designated time but still had to wait in line for an hour and a half. I didn't care, I had to wait somewhere so what the heck. The drive to Hopkinton was fine until we exited the freeway. Traffic was bumper to bumper and it was cutting into my settling in time at Athletes Village, which I was looking forward to. I wanted to wander around and do some chit chatting with the other runners. I didn't have this opportunity while standing in line at The Commons because I happened to be surrounded by people who did not speak English. What little time I did have at the village was spent standing in a porta-potty line, I didn't really have to go but I figured I'd get in one more "clearing out" since it had been such a long time since I woke up and did my morning routine. I barely had enough time to get from the porta-potty to the bag drop, I felt a little rushed but still everything was going smoothly for my run of a lifetime. I made it to corral #2 with about a minute to spare. (second wave) Everything was perfect. If I had a complaint it would be that I didn't have enough time to soak it all in, I was a little stressed because I was not sure I would make it to the line in time. Looking back, this is much better than spending an inordinate amount of time standing in the corral. I'm finally here, wearing the shirt, shorts, socks, watch, shoes and gloves that I always envisioned running Boston in. My minimum goal was 3:20, my "oh my gosh" goal was 3:15. My plan was to run 7:30's until the Newton hills and then gauge my strength, maybe give up 7:45 to 7:50's. I really thought I'd still be able to maintain 7:30's through the hills and then hammer down the last six miles at about 7:15. In my heart of hears I knew I would come in at 3:18 and I would be incredibly happy with that. Gun goes off and I'm hitting the starting mat about a minute or so later. Sea of bobbing heads in front of me, what a sight. I had been warned by many people that it is difficult to stay at your pace because of the excitement, so I went out of my way to stay in control of my pace. I wanted the first mile to be the slowest. 1. 8:15 mission accomplished, a little slower than I wanted but I'd rather have this split over something in the 6's. 2. 7:28 perfect baby! Right according to plan. 3. 7:34 perfect, pacing is a strong point of mine, everything going well. 4. 7:20 way happy, perfect start. 5. 7:37 perfect again, this mile was slightly uphill. 6. 7:26 maintaining perfection, I'm very happy, but my stomach feels full and I'm not passing any wind. This starts to dominate my thoughts and keeps me from feeling a good groove. If I could just pass some gas I'd feel great, but I can't and I know that this could mean trouble. 7. 7:31 another great split but know my stomach does not feel good and the thought of hitting a porta-potty is really bringing my down because I don't want to give up any time but then again, it might cause me to run poorly if I don't. My mind is being dominated right now with this quandray. I wish I could just groove on down the road and enjoy the greatest marathon ever. 8. 7:35 another good split but my stomach is killing me, I've know succumbed to the porta-potty and began a search. I ate a fig newton during this mile, one of about 4 or 5 that I will eat during the race. To this point, I have only taken about 6 or 7 swallows of water, just enough to be comfortable. 9. 9:16 yes, found a porta-potty. This mile is downhill so I figure I lost 2 minutes and this is bumming me out. The 3:15 is now off the table. 10. 7:25 another good split, this is slightly up hill so I feel like I picked up about 5-8 seconds. However, my stomach is killing me, it feels like I'm carrying a set of steak knives in my belly. The porta-potty stop did not cure what was ailing me. 11. 7:36 still liking my splits and time, but I'm consumed with stomach pain and unable to enjoy by Boston experience. I'm hoping it's just a rough patch and it will subside soon. 12. 9:18 I saw a porta-potty and figured I'd better hit while I had an opportunity. I'm really bummed at this point because I've given up 4 minutes. In 12 marathons I've never had to use a porta-potty, or even stopped for a quick pee at the side of the road. 13. 7:34 Totally consumed with my stomach issue, in case you haven't figured it out, it's full blown diarrhea. My stomach is killing me, I'm upset that this is how my Boston run is unfolding, and I know there are more stops i'm going to have to make before this is all said and done, what's even more maddening is knowing that I have a lot of strength but my stomach is ruining my race and experience. 14. 7:39 plugging along trying to cope with the hand I've been delt, carrying a table setting of steak knives in my stomach. 15. 10:17 wow, this one was bad. I didn't have the luxury of a porta-potty, it hit without warning. I ran off the course and finished my business behind a dumpster. Key word here is "finished" ... I run back to the course having lost another several minutes and one of my gloves. I feel horrible, both physically and emotionally, who wants to be around someone who pooped their pants? I feel like a little kid who had an accident. 16. 7:17 downhill mile, I actually felt really good for this mile, my best feeling mile so far, I throughly enjoyed it. 17. 7:55 the first of the Newton hills. I'm still very strong by I've easily given up 7 minutes and I'm worried about how I'm going to hold up running a marathon on 8oz of water and 1 fig newton? There is no way I'm going to eat or drink from here on out, in fact, I haven't since mile 8 so I go ahead and throw away the rest of my fig newtons. 18. 8:08 2nd Newton hill. Since my goal times are wiped out I'm finding it difficult to push. My dreams are crushed, my stomach hurts, I have diarrhea, I know the rest is going to be more unpleasantness. Whata-ya-do? Bummer! 19. 10:48 wow, another unplanned blow-out on the course. I finished my ordeal in some bushes in the front yard of some poor unsuspecting Bostonian resident. I worry about the children, I figure the adults understand and probably have witnessed such an event before. Once again, several minutes lost along with my other glove. 20. 8:06 3rd Newton hill, wow is me, I'm having a bad race. 21. 8:27 Heartbreak? pfffft... my heart was broken long before this. My legs are getting a little heavy, I think this is due to no food or water since mile 8. 22. 7:39 My best mile of the race, I felt great so I decided to run a little harder than I probably should have but I didn't care, I'm going to saver this mile and let it feel good. This was in front of Boston College, the students were going nuts and I fed off of their cheers. What a wonderful experience. 23. 8:17 Just running out the miles at this point without no motivation. I really wanted to be digging deep and hanging on to a killer finish time but that was lost a long time ago. I could not do the math to figure if I could still break 3:30 (re-qualifying time) but as well as I could figure it seemed like that was out of the picture as well. Remember, no food or water since mile 8, no glycogen to use the brain. 24. 8:08 feeling sorry for myself, no glory, no hype, I'm a poopy mess. 25 to finish line. 10:07 which is an 8:26 pace. For three years I envisioned this finish, pounding my way to a great finish time, no such luck. I just want a real bathroom. So, if you did read this it's no accident that the report is extremely bowel centric. That's how my race went. All I could think about was my stomach pain, hitting a porta-potty and how messed up my race was. I came into this very well trained. 3500 training miles, tons of PR's in 5 and 10K's along the way. It's frustrating not being able to run a dream race, however, the dream of getting here is what I cherish. No mater how I ran, I'm still a Boston Marathoner. Getting there is the dream, the personal validation that comes along with it. I feel like I could run a 3:33 any day of the week. Well now I can say "I can run a 3:33 with diarrhea, virtually no water and one fig newton, so there!" I am anxious to race again. I'm thinking of running the Desnews Marathon with the intention of unleashing all my frustrations. Oh, almost forgot. Boston is an incredible marathon. These people know how to put on a race and the support of the residence is incredible. Boston is every bit as incredible as I thought it would be. It is a very worthy goal to pursue. If I could afford to run Boston every year I would.
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