The culmination of 3 years of marathoning: #5 Boston Marathon

Just half of the cheering group. Pic courtesy of Joseph Lee Photography

This one's a doozy.  This is what I spent 1.5 years of hard running to accomplish.  It was simultaneously the best marathon I've ever experienced and not quite the race I wanted.  I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my family and friends who took day(s) off and traveled near and far to watch me.  Everyone who patiently endured the entire process - listened to me worry about qualifying, encouraged me to go for it, listened to my pre-race preparation jitters, stood on the sidelines of the course or followed my progress through BAA's tracking apps, and then listened to me talk about the marathon for a week after - brought me there.  There will never be another Boston like this one - the amount of support I received was overwhelming that it took days trying to respond to everyone.  I'm smiling now as I think about it.  It was the most special Boston Marathon anyone could have ever experienced.

Week leading up

I decided to head up to Boston 8 days ahead of the race - first, to spend more time with the boyfriend and second, to acclimate myself.  Most people don't have this luxury, so I'm grateful I have the mobility, even though it meant a lot of work-related deadlines right before my departure.  I got to run my final long run along parts of the course and soak in the beautiful scenery during my easy miles.   

Randy, Robin, Jill, and Risa (part of my regular running crew) flew in Friday and Saturday.  I didn't get much of a chance to see them, though was able to spend some time at the expo, see the finish line, the Boston Public Library, and have a nice pasta dinner with them and my family & other friends on Saturday.

United, right in front of the finish line

Almost all of my crew, minus Jen and Joseph, outside of Maggiano's

Sunday, I wanted the NC crew to experience the Esplanade and Charles, the birthplace of my love for distance running and what still stands as my favorite route today.  After, we had lunch from Flour with Christine and Jomes on MIT campus.  Boston is such a wonderful walking city - I didn't do my friends justice with my introduction to it, but I was also concerned about spending too much time on my feet.  My legs had been feeling fairly tight throughout the week and on Sunday, I had spent 5 miles running-walking (3 intended).  Because of this, I panicked and cancelled my plans to attend the Oiselle team dinner hosted by Rebecca even though I harassed teammates for rides.  Sigh. 

Pre-Race

I'm not an early bird, so the 10:50 am start was a-ok for me.  :)  I left the house by 7 am, headed over to the Commons, and got there with plenty of time to sit around, bag check, and wait for the bus to take us to Hoptinkin.  It was 40 degrees and not knowing what my fate would be like at Athletes' Village, I waited until about 8:20 to step on the bus.  Though I was trying to minimize my time spent cold and waiting in Hoptinkin, in retrospect, I should have gotten on the bus sooner.  I chatted with my seatmate, Allyson from Texas, who was a second timer that fortuitously qualified (at Houston?) without it being her primary goal.  She said the first time she had run it was in 2012 - when the temperatures hit 90 degrees.  This time, clouds were looming ominously and there were projections that it would rain in the afternoon.  It turns out, she would not get to experience a perfect Boston, because we spent a good portion of our race in the rain.

When we got to Athletes' Village, I was stunned at how huge the space was.  Rows and rows of tents with porta potties and athletes all over the place.  I got in line to use the PP and wasn't able to finish before the announcers called my Wave & Corral to line up (the bathroom wait was around 20-25 minutes minimum).  The sequence of events made my start stressful.  The walk to the starting line was about half a mile in total.  With 15 minutes to go, I jumped into a line for the final pre-race porta potties (enroute to the start).  By the time I arrived at the start, Corrals 1-5 were being ushered in (there didn't appear to be any sorting between corrals) and I got in line 3 minutes before our wave was released.  Yikes.

Ok, it's really happening.

1. 8:36     2. 7:54     3. 7:59     4. 7:56     5. 8:04     6. 8:00     7. 7:58

My coach warned me over and over not to go out too fast during the first 7 miles.  It should feel super easy, he said.  I was supposed to let the foolhardy race away from me and reign in close to race pace.  As I went through the first few miles, I thought, where's the easy, Jerry?  I thought we were supposed to be running downhill!  These first few miles were not what I thought they'd be.  It felt level, not "super easy" and I could not invoke a foolish strategy if I tried.  The crowds were so shrewd with their conservative pacing and thick that if I wanted to run like an idiot, I would've had to weave through them.  So I didn't, and maybe a little to my detriment.

The rain drops came down right before we started and the streets could be narrow in these parts.  Yet, the crowds were still out there.  There were a few quaint local bars with marathon spectators being rowdy (and maybe a little drunk?).  Children were watching, an Indian woman loudly cheered the runners on -- only in Boston.  I'm not sure my Mom would be out there, yelling with such gusto, even if it were for me.  An auto body shop with a huge sign encouraged runners to check themselves out in the reflecting large windows.  Crowds of runners - waves of them, moved forward...  No one was recognizable, it was just a sea of colors and I was a speck in that sea. 

In the early stages, my mind wavered between thinking, I wish I weren't running today.  I'm completely soaked and kind of cold... Man, the marathon is hard and I'm only at mile 8.  Woof.  But I tried to drag myself out of this mentality because such thoughts have no place in Boston.  This is what years of hard work were for, this is a privilege.  This was my first Boston, and the rain - why, it was just mother nature's way of trying to get us to hydrate the entire race.  But, it wasn't always easy to forget.

8. 8:01     9. 7:58     10. 8:02     11. 8:00     12. 7:51     13. 8:15     14. 7:54     15. 8:03

As much as I tried, I couldn't remember every glorious detail of the race.  I really tried to soak it in, but in a marathon as epic as Boston, every moment is boisterous, noisy, and marvelous that that becomes status quo.  I began to tick off some mental milestones, though.  The first 7 were, don't be a fool.  Miles 8-15 were maintenance mode, looking forward to Wellesley and seeing Jen, Christine, and Joseph, and preparing myself for the tough parts ahead.

Wellesley was a little thinner than I thought it would be, but there were still so many beautiful, wildly cheering ladies.  I remembered runner friend Caren's advice to grab a kiss and slap as many kids' hands as possible.  While I wasn't bold enough to give or take a kiss, I slapped so many hands and thanked the ladies for being out there that I thought I might have dislocated my shoulder.

I kept thinking about mile 14.5 - how I'd see the first of my crew.  So I kept searching for them and I nearly missed another important crew around 13.  If there's one thing I've learned from this race, it's if you want to feel like a rock star, wear identifying information (your name, your alma mater, city of origin) on your person.  Boston spectators want to scream like crazy for you, just give them that chance.  Anyway, there was a woman with her name (Jan) written on her shirt.  The amount of attention she received was a little demoralizing to people running around her (ok, maybe just me), such that I started droning out.  Suddenly, I heard, "Go, Carolyn!!!!!"  I look over in bewilderment and in some slow motion parallel universe, I think, Wait...  Those people aren't cheering for Jan.  That's my name... Who's cheering for me?  Jen and co. are not supposed to be at mile 13.  I'm looking confusedly, straight into the eyes of my Oiselle teammate, Jess and 2 other team members and I'm running right by them until it clicks: JESS!!!!  I put my hands in the air, like, DUHHHH, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT TOOK ME SO LONG!  Yeah, that is how I almost missed my own teammates at the Oiselle cowbell corner. 

Somewhere in the first half.  A little cold, but feeling really good.

Everytime I saw someone I knew, I was so overjoyed.  It was like a game, who are you going to see next?  You just gotta run towards them.  My pace would jump to the low 7s and then I'd have to inwardly tell myself to calm down or this could all go south quickly.  And then, as I was running through Wellesley Hills, with their cute little street-side shops, I saw Jen and Christine.  

Crew #2 at Mile 14.5. Photo courtesy of Joseph Lee Photography.  Ah, and there's Christine wearing her multiple pieces of Oiselle. <3  (I told Jen it would be too cold to wear hers, which are all short sleeves and shorts.)  Apparently my sign fell apart in the rain, hahaha.

I spotted Christine first and gave her a high wave, but she said she didn't see me until Jen spotted me first.  I was so happy to see them - Jen's bright, happy face; Christine, jumping up and down; and where's Joseph?  I thought he overslept or couldn't make it, but it turns out he was there the entire time, behind the scenes, just a little bit away.  Jen asked me if I needed gloves or anything (always the prepared one), I said no, and I was off.  14.5, ok.  Next up: the Jomes duo at mile 16-17, where it was going to get tough.

16.  7:58     17. 8:08     18. 8:05     19. 8:03     20. 8:04     21. 8:29   

The notorious Newton Hills - they get such a bad rep, but we have worse hills in Chapel Hill and Jerry had told me they would be a cinch.  I do think I underestimated them going into the race, but the hills did not devastate me.  There are about 3-4 of them, with the final called Heartbreak Hill.  In my opinion, the worst was the first hill.  After I went up it, I thought, well, that hurt. Maybe I should have worried about them more.  I think that they are only bad if you haven't prepared with hill training, you're undertrained, or if you went out too fast in the first 13 miles.  The challenge is mostly in their placement in the course and that they are drawn out and rolling.  In this segment, I had a checklist in mind - tick off the hills and the hard part is over.  But it was tough to figure out where some of the hills began because the whole part was rolling.  Though I felt Heartbreak did not live up to its name, it appears my time slowed down considerably!

Anyway, I was anticipating the Jomes duo somewhere around 16.  As I went through 17, I thought, maybe I missed them.  I was really looking forward to seeing them, so I began to zone out when I thought the moment was over.  Just as I was refocusing on the race, I suddenly see Joyce as I'm running by!  And then, in slow motion, I see my brother, holding a sign and jumping up and down, yelling.  It's ridiculous that I didn't hear him yelling until I saw him, but it was such a noise-fest in these parts that you had to concentrate to hear anything.

Like a deer trapped in headlights. Glancing over and there's Joyce! Picture courtesy of Joyce.

And then, it was on to scratching off the hills.  I anticipated my home running crew anywhere from 19-21.  Just as we were ascending a hill, I saw them.  First I saw Risa's shining face and then I saw Robin, Jill, and Randy.  It made me so happy to see them that I didn't realize I was running uphill until they were out of sight and there was nothing to distract from the burning in my legs, haha.

This was the getup that they put together, haha.  It's too bad that it was rainy, I would have gotten a great laugh had I seen their shirts on the course.

Experiencing so much joy. Picture courtesy of Randy. Somehow he manages to accomplish the race spectating impossible - cheering while taking a picture. 

This race was tough and given the conditions, I wasn't extremely happy to be running.  But I was able to keep positive throughout knowing that I would see my loved ones along the way.  I owe them so much for being out there on that cold, wet day.

After I went up Heartbreak Hill, there was a(n unsanctioned) sign that told us it was over.  And that's where I decided to throw it down for a fastest 5.2 mile race I could possibly run.

22. 7:39     23. 7:36     24. 7:51     25. 7:52   26. 8:22     .4. 3:29

So yeah, I gunned it.  I felt good and strong going into those first two miles.  In retrospect, I wonder whether I should have played it conservatively.  But my rationale was, I don't want to play it safe and feel super comfortable throughout.  This is Boston, I wouldn't do myself or the race justice if I had anything left in the tank in the end.

We passed through Boston College where I thought of Jeff and Crystal.  As I passed by the rowdy college kids, I asked myself how many of Jeff's students were out here?  I tried to imagine that at least a few of these college students were Jeff's surrogate cheerers.  We went through Brookline and I tried to keep my eyes open for a family friend who lives in Boston.  I also kept looking for John.  The crowds were thick, though.  By mile 24, the wear and tear put me in my own realm of misery.  There were spectators all along the course, the cheering was phenomenal and LOUD, but it might as well have been silent.  I shut everyone out and just tried to gut it out until the end.

Then, just as we were passing what Kara Goucher calls "Mount Hereford," I heard my name.

The progression from abject misery to elation. Photos courtesy of Joseph Lee Photography.

It was Jen and Christine (and Joseph incognito) again!  I was so exhausted, I couldn't even get my arm up all the way to give them a wave.  It fell limply at my side.  But seeing them was that extra boost I needed to get out of my slump temporarily.

Each of those last 3 miles seemed like two miles apiece.  As I was going through each laborious step, I kept thinking, Live this up. Your first Boston is almost over.  But the other part of me felt that the time could not pass quickly enough.  When the finish line was within sight, I was overcome with emotion.

It didn't end the way I wanted it to... Like other races in the past, I looked ahead and saw that the coveted 3:30 time flashed while I was .2 miles away.  It was agony.  I was in agony.  But I wouldn't have had it any other way.  When you watch me on the finish line camera (a search that required 3 people and more than 2 hours), there is no triumphant raising of the arms or victory pose.  I'm just crossing the line in exhaustion and relief.  I gave it my all, that much I can say for sure.

This finish line photo is a lie.  I was in pain and not too happy at this point.

The shuffle back to bag pick up was pretty painful.  We received our ponchos and with our hoods pulled over our heads to protect us from the rain, it looked as though a slew of shuffling gray aliens had invaded Boylston Street.  I laughed at the ridiculousness of it while wincing the whole mile down.

Slowly, my gang caught up with me as I went through the finisher area, bag check, and the most arduous outfit change thanks to frozen fingers and a chilled entire body.  We went to my favorite Thai restaurant at the end of Charles Street and in my ravenous state, I ordered 2 meals, haha.

So much love to each of my friends and family.

This was the best first Boston anyone could have experienced thanks to my people.  I really needed them mentally and each sighting was a boost of adrenaline and gratitude.

Now, it's several weeks after the marathon.  I'm no longer as dissatisfied with my time as I had been.  I'm glad I made the B goal and requalified so I'll be there with Jill next year (and *fingers crossed*, Nicole) and hopefully get a chance at redemption.  However, I've been trying to figure out where I lost those 2:18.  I think in trying to live up the race and slapping as many hands as possible, I ran the tangents poorly.  By mile 17, I already clocked .2 extra.  But I can't regret doing that because it's the only way you should run your first Boston.  I also should have carefully watched the cumulative time on my watch.  I only allowed myself to see the mile by mile splits and while that was a psychological maneuver, had I known I was behind, I know I could have pushed harder throughout the pre-Newton miles.  Ah well.  It was a PR and not in the best conditions - a testament to Jerry's help in pushing me through this season.  And only Boston could make you want to do it all over again, even in those conditions.

Time: 3:32:18, 8:06 min/mile
Entire field: 10,885/26,610 (41st percentile - the only time I will be happy with this place ever, haha)
Gender: 2,802/12,022, 23rd percentile
Division: 2,184/6,011, 36th percentile