Marathon Madness

Yup. It's that packed!
(wickedlocal.com)

This afternoon, I headed down to downtown Wellesley to take in the atmosphere of the 113th Boston Marathon. I couldn't help but reminisce of the physical and mental journey I took last year when I ran the ultimate road race. It was a race that I had always wanted to do since my days as a high school trackie, however I never got the time or the courage to do it until last winter. I was quite impressed with the crowds today as well as the demographics of the runners that participated. It's not like those demographics didn't exist when I was running the race last year, but you're less likely to notice the beauty when you are dragging your legs toward Heartbreak Hill, focused on just making it to Beantown. I saw runners from Brazil, Italy, Poland, people running for all sorts of charitable causes, a man running in a full business suit, and last but not least, men running in full ballerina gear (never mind the many unecessary appearances of the Speedo). Meanwhile, I noticed a vendor that was selling a bunch of funky hats and random noisemakers, which made me think for a second that I had arrived at some sort of an athletic event/pimp convention (since when did leopard-print hats become popular in marathons?). Now that ladies and gents, is an afternoon of entertainment! When I look back, I do remember those 3.5 miles (about 5.5 km for all you internationals out there) in Wellesley as believe or not, the funnest part of the race! Think of it as having a sudden homefield advantage for about a half hour as you finally start seeing people you know, their cheers acting as noisy adrenaline. The biggest support was at Wellesley College, where the cheers rumbled the ground, making me unsure if my legs were gonna cave in half way through the race. It almost painfully ironic that those couple miles are just before the most treacherous point in the race, which is basically four miles of gradual ascent that has me grabbing an Advil container as I type. It was there off Abbott St. that I realized that I miss the experience. I actually regret not running it this year. Throughout all the cramps and sore feet from last year, trudging through the 3 week pasta/water diet, and by watching this year's class of endurance junkies this afternoon, I discovered the camaraderie and the aura that makes this race so great.

Map to glory.
(bostonmarathon.org)

Running the event was an astounding experience all together. I remember getting there at around 6 in the morning, taking in the chilly atmosphere of Main St. Hopkinton. I spent so long waiting in a bagel shop as I filled up on my last dose of carbs as I waited for my friend and running partner Nikita to arrive (a.k.a, "The Finishers"). I talked with many about the race and its history, and I saw how much people just enjoyed this race. I mean, you have to if you are going to wake up in the wee hours of the morning to evade road closures just to watch 25,000+ runners embark on 2-7 hour game of moving Monopoly, a combination of endurance with each mile marker giving you the same adrenaline boost as passing go (board game analogies might just work only for me, just saying). After my friend arrived, and after a brief bumping-into with former presidential candidate John Kerry, I began warming up with the mob of crazies who were just looking for that runners' high. Lining up before the race felt like any moment you start something grand, like the incline before the 1st drop on one of those mega roller coasters. Once I passed the starting line, it was game time as I started the timer on my iPod, listening to "Eye of the Tiger." The first 5 miles are fairly scenic, and the scent of barbecue acts as a subtle temptation. They're even people that will make their own scoreboards updating everyone of my only other concern of the day, the score of the 11 AM Sox game. The next 11 miles on Rt. 135 through Framingham, Natick, and through the screaming crowds of Wellesley is a cruise-control point as more and more fanatics pile to the barriers just to slap hands and to hand out a few citrus fruits. The simple fact that I still had the energy allowed me to play with the crowd, inventing hand shakes with strangers on the fly as well as doing a few Superman poses. Overall, the first 16 miles of the event feel like a training run with loads of fanfare. It was like I was a spectator myself, while at the same time in disbelief that I was actually doing this. You have to have fun in something like this, especially when you know the top finishers of the race have already finished and are probably having beers at the Cask 'n Flagon. Coincidentally around the 16 mile marker is Newton-Wellesley Hospital, which is probably the marathon's way of telling you, "Well, this is your last chance to stop and be saved. You don't know what's ahead of you. You sure you wanna do this? Really?" It was at that point of the race that I realized that the first half of the race was an awful teaser.

Best. Sight. Ever.
(www.dailyencouragement.net)

As you've probably heard before, this is where all the hills start, and where you pretty much lose what you've built up for energy. Great timing! The only thing that kept me from moving backwards was the highly energetic Boston College crowd, who seemingly were in Spring Break mode. I wonder how long you can last in a marathon after a beer pong tourney? Anyway, this is the part of the race where you would rather have no legs. To be honest, I couldn't tell you the difference between Heartbreak Hill and the other three hills on that 5 mile stretch. They ALL brought the pain. It is after this point where I swear gravity gets stronger. There must be some magnetic field at Brookline that just weighs everything down. I even tried waving in the cheers to get myself into it, but all the antics that got me through the 1st part of the race started to wear me down a lot more. I felt like I was pushing myself, but the mile markers got exponentially slower. But after a looooooooong downhill haul, I finally made it to the 26 mile mark (remember, the race is 26.2 miles) when I felt my hamstring click. After about 10 seconds of slowing down and pondering whether I should walk or crawl to the finish line, I decided I was well enough for one last sprint. After probably the longest 800 meter sprint in my life, I arrived at what arguably was the most satisfying and triumphant finish I've had in any athletic event I have ever participated in. Possibly one of the top accomplishments in my young life. I mean, I get tired after driving 26 miles. But running 26.2 in under my set goal of 4 hours (3 hours, 56 minutes, I think 47 seconds.....yeah, I think that's right) after not training/running competitively since high school made me regain my respect for running again. After I passed the finish line, they gave me a silver insulation cape, which I draped over myself like the superheroes I was impersonating a few hours earlier. While strolling with the caped masses on Boylston St. and realizing what I accomplished for myself and what others around me have accomplished on that afternoon, I felt like more than a superhero, more than average. Kinda cheesy, but think about it. Don't you think 26 miles is kryptonite to a lot of people?

Just For Fun: Can you spell last place?

(cdn.faniq.com)

Well I consider myself a huge baseball fan, but I was totally unaware that MLB had replaced the team in Washington and replaced them with the "Natinals." Really? Just when you think things can't get worse for a team that blew 3 save opportunities against the Marlins this past weekend. Luckily, probably nobody saw it because the "Natinals" only draw about 10 fans a game. However, they should seriously consider selling these jerseys on MLB.com.