The Pre-Race
I passed out at 10 pm and my sleep pre-race was (like clockwork) broken up by a 2:30 am wake up call
with the usual "I missed the dang race" nightmare, followed by tossing and turning until 5 am. I got up and my right hip pain
and quads were sore already. Eat a banana and P.B. sandwich, drink a liter of water, the same breakfast before every race.
For my official gallon Boston Marathon zip-lock bag, I packed what looked like
an elementary school lunch:
2 peanut butter sandwiches, my pretzel nuggets that helped me
during that 21 miler, and a bottle of water (complete with dry socks). My
fanny pack was filled to the brim with 6 gus (4 chocolate, 2 raspberry), keys,
a T pass, ID, credit card, and my waist was surrounded with the usual TP
utility belt.
After 2 rounds on the porcelain throne (like clockwork), I boarded the B line train at 6 am with my Freddy Krueger/ trash bag get-up complete with Marathon Sports gloves and pajama pants, old Nike kicks and a makeshift necklace of dry New Balance Fresh Foams to ward off bad juju (and wet shoes for the race). The things we do for running. #noshameinmygame
As I had done before many a time coming home from a bar, I slept on the T with
my head nudged on the window since I knew by feel what stop I'm at like a sixth sense, this was my home court advantage. Elite marathoners (looked like there was a Houston runner and Mexico
runner across from me) filled out the rest of the train, perplexed by how much
Gu and gear I had as they had packed 0% body fat and zero throwaway clothes.
I gently woke up from my lean against the T as we reached the Arlington
stop, and that's when the rain and lightning started and my trash bag fashion
faux pas turned in to a vet move quickly.
While
others donned their uncouth trash bags on the stairs leading up to the Boston
Garden, I was momentarily confused and walked the wrong way then remembered to walk towards
the line of school buses across the pond. Volunteers were out in full
force and helped direct us as the lightning and downpour started.
After
flashing my bib and Dana-Farber bracelet (concert paper style) to security, I
was able to grab a wave 2 bus at 7 am. The rain then smacked us sideways with thunder going off in the
background a la Lord of The Rings, Helm's Deep style (or GoT if you prefer);
damp but bad ass before boarding. I got on and saw another non-BQ DFMC
teammate and hoped she would sit with me because I had no idea where to go once
we got off the bus. She sat with me because I was rocking a Providence Ironman
hat that I picked up at a race from another life time ago, I let her know I was
in fact an Ironman fraud. The ride was an hour long out to Hopkinton on a
long motorcade of school buses that felt like the Dark Knight's bank robbery
opening scene. Some runners became anxious as the ride seemed to go on forever.
We finally arrived at the Athlete's Village where the Wave 2 runners turned
left into, the rest of us went towards our safe haven as I spotted the tallest
DFMC runner and training partner extraordinaire, Brian Thomson.
Hopkinton
We got to the Dana-Farber sanctioned church (so clutch) and
as any vet knows, hit the bathroom asap. While we waited in line, the
flyover happened for the 1st wave as the bathroom stalls shook. During
our stay at the church, we added on Sharpie tattoos to our arms for those who
we were running for, lettered my singlet with "Tang", then last
second Sharpie'd in "A-Aron" also on the singlet. We took group
pictures as well while I began to snack on PB sandwiches and pretzel nuggets,
and drank another liter of water. We crashed the inside bathrooms and
portajohns for a grand total of 5 rounds of the porcelain throne all before
10:35, proceeded to donate our throwaway clothes and shoes and the crawl to the
start began. As we waited for our roughly 11am start, Wave 3 people were
sneaking by us and running to the starting line as they were late for their
start. I looked around and thought, we got blessed with this pocket of no rain
and was pumped. Earlier in the week, all we saw was rain showers all day.
Before we started, Brian said that we'd get rain (0.07') around 1pm.
We got to the top of Hopkinton and fired up the GPS watch as we crossed our
first tracking point. We definitely ran downhill for the first half (with
hills at miles 4 and 8). At 0.9 mi, Brian had a fan base with
a "25.3 mi" left sign as they cheered him on with a 'BT' shout
for him. Brian spotted a Welcome to Brookline sign around here, I was unphased and delirious to know what that even meant early on.
Thankfully there honestly wasn't as much jostling for openings as we were mostly 0.1 mile off before each mile marker and finally, learned to let the race come to us. (Zig zagged a couple times to stay within range of each other of course). A couple of jackasses were swerving in and out, like left side to right side...these must be the Massholes that drive around these parts.
Ashland and Framingham flew by quick. We had to back off and run conservatively downhill. In a role reversal from our long runs, Brian had to tell me to dial it back a couple times which I am so thankful for later on in the race.
Thankfully there honestly wasn't as much jostling for openings as we were mostly 0.1 mile off before each mile marker and finally, learned to let the race come to us. (Zig zagged a couple times to stay within range of each other of course). A couple of jackasses were swerving in and out, like left side to right side...these must be the Massholes that drive around these parts.
Ashland and Framingham flew by quick. We had to back off and run conservatively downhill. In a role reversal from our long runs, Brian had to tell me to dial it back a couple times which I am so thankful for later on in the race.
Early on, Brian and I knew one small thing may have made all the difference;
writing "A-Aron" on my singlet from the now infamous Key and Peele
skit. Every minute, a new sideline cheerleader would shout
"A-Aron" after I passed by them, them chuckling to themselves, and me
pointing at them after the fact and acknowledging the absurdity of it all,
which started a longer wave of cheers. Brian said the difference between
whoever would finish first would be because of this, and I can't say that he's
wrong. To make it even more of a big deal, my "TANG" lettering
was coming off, the G falling off and I did not want "TAN" shout
outs.
Somewhere in this section I said aloud to Brian at least it wasn't raining and
that turned in to a conversation with an older female runner who was going to
run last year but decided to go to China with her husband instead, what a tough
life. We also saw the usual Jesus-like shirtless runner, to which I said "was that Jesus?" to the delight of the crowd.
We finally got in to the rhythm of taking each mile's water
stop after the mile sign, running to the back and left for water stations to
sip and cool down. Nothing worse than sucking back Gu with a parched mouth.
Once we hit Natick (or was it Wellesley?) the sun came out and
the clouds let up as we were slowly getting cooked without knowing it until it
was too late. We needed to back off the 8:30-40 pace and rock 9s.
We knew we'd hit every water station and pick up Gu and store it in my
pockets. I looked back for Brian and couldn't find him so I had to run
solo since Brian wanted to go at 9 pace. Felt bad but at the same time
knew we spoke about this possibly happening. After that 5k where Knapp
came through and torched me in the pic at the top of this blog, I thought Brian
may do the same here, too (not that it really matters, right?).
Wellesley to Newton
There were drums? Stomping? Whatever it was near the Wellesley Marathon Sports
store, where I had my first long run with the team, kept me going. The home
court advantage started as we had run these spots a couple times which made all
the difference.
Once I hit the Wellesley "tunnel", I realized wow, I am old af
because these college girls offering kisses are kids haha. But back to
the race, I thought to myself, I gotta plug away at 9:00 pace from miles
14-17. I saw my Bristol bro around this point and one of my fellow
colleagues at work who apparently whacked me in the back...totally do not remember that happening. At the Newton fire station at mile 17, they were blasting
Montell Jordan "This is How We Do It" and all was right again.
Heartbreak Hill
Miles 17-20 was now when the work started. A veteran
told me mile 17 is the actual half way point of the marathon and after this
experience, I totally agree. I've run these hills before backwards and
forwards in the carriage road but would now navigate the 3 hills along the main
road and plug away. I saw Greg around mile 20 with his family here which helped
me move along. The hills were a slug fest but just kept grinding away
having faced them before, passing walkers and spectators shouting "Go
A-Aron!" I kept pointing back at them, thankfully I never smacked anyone with my left arm inevitably swinging by (I stayed on the left side per Brian's recommendation).
Home field advantage is legit; the hills are something I did multiple times,
even at night when I needed to do medium runs, making Heartbreak Hill less
heartbreak-y.
If conditions were right and I had energy, I would've opened up a
"finishing kick" after Heartbreak Hill like the one I had for our 21
miler (with my good luck pretzel nuggets that I never went to, kept eating Gu
upon Gu upon Gu). Unfortunately that wouldn't be the case but I had to
keep telling myself I hadn't unleashed a big move yet and continue tricking my
body and willing it forward as my calves started to cramp up as I hit BC. I
hoped the cramps would be kept at bay til the finish.
I continued running through home court as I passed the
reservoir then navigated a right turn and a left on to Cleveland Circle where I
saw fellow DFCI 5k member Richie and then saw my newly-joined Brighton Bangers
run club! And apparently some girls I've met in Brookline saw me around this
point too. Rep precedes me haha.
10k To Go
The last 10k,
while being downhill (save for that Mass Ave dip) was slow as molasses as the
humidity was turning up. The "4 Jane" sharpie'd tattoos on the
arms in honor of my spirit animal Jane Gunzelmann pulled me through the last
10k. I was constantly raising my arms and cheering up the spectators to
cheer us on a la KOB.
Around the Washington Square stop, I saw my Mom cheering me on in a green DFMC
shirt that Brian donated to me (what a team player).
The "A-aron" high fives, while propelling me
forward at a faster clip, caused some semi-calf cramps around mile 23 or
24 when I veered towards some drunk college kids chanting A-Aron in
unison...won't forget that. Had to shake my left leg as the cramps became
more apparent.
I had nothing left in Brookline and couldn't make
a move for a 3:45 finish time as I peeked at my watch and was around 3:22 at
mile 23, meaning I'd need a 23 minute 5k so it wouldn't have been feasible. But
I also knew sub 4 was fine so long as I ran 10s. I think either the 23 or 24 mile water stop, I walked for a quick second to gauge my cramps and knew I had to start running otherwise I'd walk the rest.
The Citgo sign (and the accompanying hill it's on) were
welcome signs (rim shot) as the end was near.
I tried to get the crowd involved in the end...it's amazing
how I turn in to this different person while running. I was yelling, hollering
while running, talking to myself aloud to keep going, all with my hand on my ear like I was 80s era Hulk Hogan.
As I took the right on to Hereford, left on to Boylston (along with others taking the
turns tight), the rain finally started as we were about a quarter mile out from
the finish line. I kept waving my arms and according to my race photos, I
was smiling? I hit the finish line and in rare form, did NOT dry heave...even
got an Uta Pippig shout out (she was a speaker for the
team and has been with the team for a while).
3:53:24. Haven't got to say this in a while but that is a PR!
Received a congratulations from the team leader and photographer. They got another DFMC runner as we took a photo after congratulating each other. The photographer asked what A-Aron stood for. Very good question.
Got my medal put on me, got my coveted space blanket, and was led by a friendly DFMC volunteer in a pink shirt to help navigate back to the Marriott. Just as we headed towards the Hancock tower, a swirling dervish of trash came through and the rain picked up. When I slowly got up a couple stairs and on some escalators, I was able to change out in the make-shift locker room on the third floor and lament with fellow runners who didn't know they would get here due to injuries. I hopped in to my pre-hip Champion sweats and running shirts from almost a decade ago and called up Mama Tang to meet up on the fourth floor family waiting area.
Received a congratulations from the team leader and photographer. They got another DFMC runner as we took a photo after congratulating each other. The photographer asked what A-Aron stood for. Very good question.
Got my medal put on me, got my coveted space blanket, and was led by a friendly DFMC volunteer in a pink shirt to help navigate back to the Marriott. Just as we headed towards the Hancock tower, a swirling dervish of trash came through and the rain picked up. When I slowly got up a couple stairs and on some escalators, I was able to change out in the make-shift locker room on the third floor and lament with fellow runners who didn't know they would get here due to injuries. I hopped in to my pre-hip Champion sweats and running shirts from almost a decade ago and called up Mama Tang to meet up on the fourth floor family waiting area.
After getting my mom back on the commuter rail back to PVD, the rainstorm bookended the race on both sides thankfully. Naturally the
sun came out with a rainbow around Back Bay post-run.
Stats and facts:
-2 Nantucket Nectar Half and Halfs at the Marriott post-race,
that's all I had, Gatorade for tonight #liquiddiet
-I took EVERY GU (Mocha and razz) available
offered by the volunteers ... must've had 12 total since that seemed like the
limiting factor during my 21 miler (whereas today, I was parched due to the
heat and couldn't go to my pretzel nuggets that ignited a 4 mile kick for my 21
miler)., must've looked like that fat kid in Matilda with brown crap on my
face and hands from squeezing every last bit of Gu out, toothpaste style
-Right foot was getting tight in my shoe (or I
laced em wrong)
-Can't eat post-marathon per usual
-Brian gets credit for all the "A-Aron" chants, numerous and sped me
up every time.
-he also went in to the portajohn with a popsicle stick with Vaseline on
it...have I been skipping a step?
-Got a runner's tan on my back
-8 towns, 1 race
-Only ran an extra 0.23 miles per the GPS, not bad
-Group runs with Brian helped with my confidence
to trust 8:30/9 pace whereas Marine Corps was all solo runs but I did not feel
nearly as good as I did this training cycle
-Loved the strangers saying congrats per usual
DFMC team
-Organized as all hell, volunteers got us to the Marriott, no problem at all.
Speaks volumes that a lot of my energy could go towards the race and not
logistics. This team is the real deal.
-Rockin OOFOS and changed in to my pre-cool
Champion sweats and medal for Jane
-Coach
Jack Fultz, amazing work
-Customized DFMC jersey and kicks that were
sharpie'd....should've done that
Sountrack on the course
"Road Runner" by the Modern Lovers early on in the race
"Midnight City" by M83
"Midnight City" by M83
That "ole ole ole oleeee" song
A throwback Ja Rule song
"This is How We Do It" by Montell
Jordan at the Newton Fire House
The
Aftermath Bullet Points
-My "4 Jane" tat left a "Jan" imprint on my right arm due to the sun coming out
-I'm smiling in almost all my pictures, do I finally cave and pay MarathonFoto for pics?
-A Boston Marathon jacket, I finally can wear it. Do I feel bad since I didn't BQ? No, because this is America, money talks. You can buy your way in to college. Right Aunt Becky? Speaking of school, it's like a varsity jacket for Boston...why I didn't wear it to run club that Wednesday at run club is beyond me.
-My mantra coming in was, crush mileage, outwork 'em, relax, turnover your legs, and blink? It worked I guess
-I'm smiling in almost all my pictures, do I finally cave and pay MarathonFoto for pics?
-A Boston Marathon jacket, I finally can wear it. Do I feel bad since I didn't BQ? No, because this is America, money talks. You can buy your way in to college. Right Aunt Becky? Speaking of school, it's like a varsity jacket for Boston...why I didn't wear it to run club that Wednesday at run club is beyond me.
-My mantra coming in was, crush mileage, outwork 'em, relax, turnover your legs, and blink? It worked I guess
-"A-Aron" echoing in my head kept me up, that's why I only slept for an hour. Listen, we are never going to be the NBA or NFL stars we dreamed of as kids. But that feeling of complete strangers cheering you on...man, can't shake that feeling!
-Flip it on its head, yes I could've hit 3:45
with no insomnia and better weather but lets look at 3:53 as what it is, a PR
under rough and tough conditions
-never felt 100% to start, we got robbed. That 21 miler was my race...we need another shot at the marathon. Never hit the wall though thankfully.
-never felt 100% to start, we got robbed. That 21 miler was my race...we need another shot at the marathon. Never hit the wall though thankfully.
-With 1 hr of sleep after the race, I can see why athletes
love playing at home with people chanting your name as you raise your hands or
acknowledge them cheering as you are pursuing your best effort. Nothing like it.
-Quads and right outside knee are shot, not back
of the knees like in the past. Going Benjamin Button on my walking the whole week, hobbling to back to normal in a week.
-"walking around like Bambi." -Heather Tang
-despite not really working out, my upper body and core held up (but yes, I need to do yoga and lift again). My arms did look jacked in that one waving pic haha
-I didn't notice the usual funny signs or costumed runners (or any at all)...there's a different vibe to this marathon. The prestige and honor associated with it must have something to do with it
-despite not really working out, my upper body and core held up (but yes, I need to do yoga and lift again). My arms did look jacked in that one waving pic haha
-I didn't notice the usual funny signs or costumed runners (or any at all)...there's a different vibe to this marathon. The prestige and honor associated with it must have something to do with it
-not peeing apple juice but not exactly water
-reached for a package on the floor and my right shoulder
cramped the hell out
-Ran with Pat Henderson way back during our URI days to help
him train for Boston for a couple miles, now we here. What a crazy journey. He had some helpful words the day before the race to soak in all the love. Amazingly I did, Boston came up huge.
-Run your miles, work hard, but have no expectations. I read that, from one of my earlier entries in this blog. That's the way I need to approach running and life.
-sacrifice to the running gods: my space gray iPod shuffle is MIA. RIP. Bought a shiny new red one to replace it #midlifecrisis
-took longer for my legs to recover, about a week and a half. Getting older or am I just paying for not taking a day off after the race?
-Future goals: run another marathon? Feeling good, gotta keep up the fitness level or improve.
-Run your miles, work hard, but have no expectations. I read that, from one of my earlier entries in this blog. That's the way I need to approach running and life.
-sacrifice to the running gods: my space gray iPod shuffle is MIA. RIP. Bought a shiny new red one to replace it #midlifecrisis
-took longer for my legs to recover, about a week and a half. Getting older or am I just paying for not taking a day off after the race?
-Future goals: run another marathon? Feeling good, gotta keep up the fitness level or improve.
-hard to see, but the drop in elevation was very hard to fight off speeding up. So glad we did. That spike in pace at the end? The turn on the Boylston from Hereford.
Behind The Scenes
So this is where the petty part kicks in, end now if
you don't want the 2Pac "Hit Em Up", Michael Jordan acceptance speech
vibes below. I may delete this part later.
For those out of the loop, signing up for this race was done like many if not
like all of my races; not by my choice. I have wanted to do Boston ever
since Knapp and I conjured up all these wild dreams as new runners. This
race would also be different since there was a large fundraising component as
well.
At the beginning, the understandable stress of training and fundraising, along
with a relationship that would sour after moving in together began to take its
toll on my mental health.
I broke down. I cried. I cried like a little baby. While she was
there to console me, apparently this was part of the many reasons why this
relationship would ultimately end.
Within a 2 month period, everything went from all in to all out. Wasting my time and energy.
And within that time, my friends became my new support system and my long runs became therapy (along with actual therapy), a time to vent and expend energy in to something I loved and would end up fighting for on my own. Thankfully all the long runs went well.
And within that time, my friends became my new support system and my long runs became therapy (along with actual therapy), a time to vent and expend energy in to something I loved and would end up fighting for on my own. Thankfully all the long runs went well.
This would all proceed in to a break up 2 weeks prior to the race after
spending my time and energy in to helping the move. This became a
detriment to my sleep and mood during a time when I would be tapering and had
no outlet since my runs were being halved. For the first time, I have insomnia.
Frustration hung like a black cloud over such a prestigious time.
On top of all this, to have the audacity to text after all that and say
good luck the day before the race after trying very hard to move on from this relationship, which would
momentarily rattle me. Thankfully I was at a pasta party and heard inspirational speech upon inspirational speech.
I remember that the only time I was faced with relationship adversity pre-race
7 years ago, I quit at mile 8 of a half marathon where I had a shot to PR. I had to dip deeper in to the well to find the courage and energy to continue.
For Boston, this race was a division, it was about who has your back and about
those who would rather selfishly drag out a terrible time in my life to where I
felt horribly during an already stressful time.
If someone told me that I would PR at Boston after a messy break up, I would've laughed in your face. The sheer willpower to get through and PR on a less than stellar day on a less than stellar year personally...this PR, this medal, this jacket is for me. It's for me and for those that were there to support me and be on my team. You know who you are. And you know who you are.
If someone told me that I would PR at Boston after a messy break up, I would've laughed in your face. The sheer willpower to get through and PR on a less than stellar day on a less than stellar year personally...this PR, this medal, this jacket is for me. It's for me and for those that were there to support me and be on my team. You know who you are. And you know who you are.
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