The maudlin media got to me.
“Boston’s a tough town, a resilient town.”
“You picked on the wrong group of people – marathoners. They run faster than you, and they don’t quit.”
The Boston Marathon is unique in the running world in its longevity and its spectators. On the third Monday in April, the race which started in 1897 winds its way from Hopkinton to Back Bay. In the final 13 miles, at least half a million people line the streets, exhorting the runners to the finish line.
A group of runners gathered on the beach at Santa Monica two days after the marathon bombing. Their convener, Blue Benadum, had this to say after he’d run 26.2 miles to Dockweiler State Beach in the Marina, and back:
“A marathon is so intense anyway,” Benadum says afterward, thinking of the chaos at Boston. “You’re stripped down emotionally. You’re very fragile when you cross the finish line.” At 20 miles, your body is out of fuel. Your brain is out of fuel. “So you can’t talk yourself into why you should keep going. If you’re going to finish, you have to find something deep down inside, even when there’s nothing left.”
Spectators matter. Benadum ran the Los Angeles Marathon on March 17. Two miles from the end, he wanted to quit so bad. Everything hurt.
Then a stranger appeared on the sidelines, cheering. He was an older man, probably in his 60s. Someone who knew marathons. “You’re within the 2-hour, 30-minute mark,” the stranger said. “It’s there, but you’ve got to want it bad. Pick it up.”
Benadum played the man’s words over and over again in his head like a mantra for the rest of the race. He finished in 13th place overall. [From the LA Weekly]
I’ve done over 100 races around the world, some of them Big Deal “helicopter” races, thousands of people gathered with a chopper flying overhead, to get the best photos, some of them little home town affairs with less than fifty entrants. But every one of them had people watching, people who weren’t racing, but were there to support, to exhort, and to maybe gain some reflective health off our efforts.
Endurance racers sometimes make fun of the comments that get thrown our way, our favorite being, “Keep going, you’re almost there!” said any time more than 200 meters from the finish. But we’d really rather have an audience, someone to give us strength, than do it all in silence. It’s the one thing which defines a race as something other than just a glorified workout.
Which is why I have to go back to Boston next year.
It’s been seven years since I last raced there. But it remains one of my deepest, most fulfilling memories. Not my performance, which was middling at best, 2o minutes slower than my best marathon time. And not the camaraderie out on the course with the other runners; we all suffer in the same place, but each in our own unique way.
It’s the massive, over-the-top numbers and enthusiasm of those at the side of the road which got to me. This is not just a few thousand local town folks plus friends and relatives of participants. This is something unique in all the world, an entire metro region descending en masse to celebrate the birth of our country (it’s Patriot’s Day, the holiday which honors Paul Revere and his cohorts who lit the spark of the American revolt against the British at Lexington and Concord, April 19, 1775.
The noise really starts about mile 13, near Wellesley College, where the girls come out and screech for hours. In Newton, suburban yuppies line the five hills (the middle one is called Heartbreak) which come at the absolute worst time of the race, miles 16-20. Then, as the road winds down towards the heart of the city, there is six miles of the largest group of people I’ve even seen in one place at one time, all of them clapping, or hollering, or exhorting like that guy in LA.
It’s the original Wall of Sound, and it doesn’t stop, it just feeds love and energy when the runners need it most. And next year, it’s sure to be double in size. Runners and Bostonians will want to demonstrate, emphatically, that tradition, speech and assembly can not be daunted.
After that 2006 race, I vowed never to do another marathon. I’d checked the Big Daddy off my life list, and saw no reason to test myself that way again. The training is too hard, the race is too much effort for too long a time, I don’t have anything to prove, I told myself. Besides, I was getting pulled into Ironman triathlon, and needed all my head space and physical talents in that arena. Granted, each Ironman ends with a marathon, but it’s not the same thing. The exhaustion from swimming 2.4 miles and biking 112 ensures that it’s not a really a race at that point, it’s a war of attrition, of survival. I just don’t like to *run* that much, I told myself.
But, I got swayed by a couple of Sirens this week. First, the anticipation that the 2014 Boston Marathon would be something special in our endurance world. Something getting twice the media attention, twice the veneration from runners and spectators. And, I’ll turn 65 a week before the race.
To run in Boston, you have to qualify under a specific time to get in. Times vary with your age, and the age groups change at -0 and -5. The difference between 64 and 65 is 15 minutes.
So, how hard would it be for me to qualify? As long as I do the training, and race smart, it should be a slam dunk. Here are the facts: Last time, I qualified @ 18 minutes faster than my AG standard. Recently, I just missed by 1 minute the standard while running a marathon at then end of an Ironman. The pace required to qualify is a minute per mile *slower* than the easiest pace I usual run at. A walk in the park, right?
Well, not really. Nothing’s ever that easy. First, bear in mind that it took me three tries before I was able to qualify the first time, mostly because I didn’t really know how to race. Second, the popularity of Boston has led them to a tiered registration process. On a day – yet to be announced – in September, those who are 20 minutes under their AG standard can sign up. The next try goes to the sub 10 minute folks, and a third group at 5 minutes faster than standard then get a chance. Finally, if there’s any room left over, those who just snuck in under the time get to sign up. Last year, pretty much every one who met the AG standard got in. But next year? I think not.
I’m probably not the only one who wants to do this because of the bombings in this year’s race. Who knows how many people will get the bug? But they better get it soon. And even then, trying a qualifying race in the summer is a problem, mainly due to high temps in most locales.
So, I have a dilemma, or series of dilemmas, if I want to do this. First, I have to consider my current fitness status. Right now, I’m very well trained for a half Ironman I’m doing in a week. So I could easily knock off a half marathon in a fast time right now. But I’ve got to get that fitness a bit more durable, for the whole distance. Second, I’ve got other races I’m looking at: a duathlon May 19th, then Ironman races on Sept 22, and Nov 17, each of which presents its own unique training requirements. I don’t want to be doing a marathon soon after my May races, nor in August or early September. And I think I need a minimum of eight weeks to get myself race ready to go 20 minutes under my AG qualifying standard, which would be at my long run pace.
So, pretty much mid July for the race. Thank goodness for MarathonGuide.com, which lists ALL the marathons available on the continent, with reviews by actual runners. I browsed there, and discovered, on July 14, the Missoula Marathon. The right time, nearby, worth a look. So, details? Well, it’s only been in existence for 6 years, but two years ago was voted best in the country by Runner’s World magazine. Except for a smallish rise in the middle, it’s flat (actually, a slight uphill), as it follows the river into town. It’s not too big, 1500 runners max, and it finishes in downtown Missoula, with good crowds in the final six miles through the neighborhoods. AND, it starts at 6 AM, so it will be a bit cooler than you might expect that time of year.
I signed up yesterday, and plowed into making a training plan today. I’m going to be juggling things a little bit, but luckily, I now have world class coaching in Endurance Nation, and they’ve got this figured out. The only thing I’m not looking forward to is the very reason I stopped doing marathons to begin with – I don’t want to do the weekly Long Runs you need to go the distance. I’m looking at three runs of 16, 18, and 21 miles. That last one I’ll be doing at elevation in Colorado. If I survive that, and can run it at an average 8:47 min/mile pace, I’ll know I can do the qualifying run in at least 3:50, which is what I need for that sub-20 minute goal.