It’s so exciting that all my family, friends, and tons of people I didn’t even know were signed up and watching my marathon status as I ran. It almost makes me wish that any of it worked.
As you can tell from the label, this photo proves I ran the marathon.
As luck would have it, the chip on my bib was defective and therefore didn’t record my time as I crossed the start, finish line, or any of the checkpoints. No one got text updates, the B.A.A. website doesn’t have my time, and I wasn’t listed in any results. As far as anything official is concerned right now, I didn’t run the marathon. Good thing someone took a picture and labelled it as proof! (see right)
All hope is not lost. I was recording the time with my watch, and I’m happy to call 3:51:24 my official time until I hear otherwise. I’ve already called up the Boston Athletic Association. They say that this “only happened to a few of you this year” and “nine times out of ten” they can recover it by looking through the videos of the start and finish lines. So hopefully updates will follow.
Here are some highlights for those of you that like that kind of stuff:
- Starting Line: All of the Dana-Farber runners are in the same starting wave and corral, so it’s looks pretty cool as we’re walking up together. As we get close and we see the huge crowds of people (runners and fans), it starts to set in just how cool this is. We can hear the announcer over the crowds, keeping us updated with how much time is left until we start. The last wave wasn’t given much time to get into place, so people start running around like crazy trying to get into place. When the clock hits 10:40, we start going, but we can only walk because of how many people are packed into the starting corrals. I start my music player with “I Gotta Feeling” by the Black Eyed Peas, and just as I cross the starting line it reaches the climax of the song.
- Minutes later: I didn’t get a text update that I had crossed the finishing line, so I suspect that my chip is defective.
- Miles 2-8: Really, really cool. This goes by like nothing because of how much I’m enjoying it. The field is still really dense, so the only bad part is having to dodge people to maintain a good pace. By mile 5 I’ve maintained a sub-8:30 pace on average.
- Mile 9: I start to feel that I’ve been running for a while, but the excitement of the half coming up keeps me going.
- Mile 14: I run past all my friends volunteering at the Mile 14 water station. The uproar that they make seems to confuse the hell out of the other runners around me, but the adrenaline of it all makes me about double my pace. Later they’d say I was looking good, and more happy than they’d ever seen me before.
- Mile 17: Really starting to feel it now, but I’m encouraged by the fact that every step I take is now the furthest I’ve ever run.
- Mile 18: The hills start, and there are three of them. The first one is pretty rough, but I make myself promise that I’m not allowed to stop until I reach the top of the third one, the infamous Heartbreak Hill.
- Mile 20: Just as I start on Heartbreak Hill, my music player starts playing “Misery” by Maroon 5. The chorus repeats I am in misery. I couldn’t help but laugh, despite the pain I was in.
- Mile 21: As I reach the top of Heartbreak, all the fans are more than happy to shout and let everyone know that they’ve made it to the top. I stop to walk for a minute or two along with some other runners, and we joke that the marathon is pretty much done now.
- Miles 22-24: I try to run again, but I have to stop every so often to walk. My feet and legs are in a lot of pain, and it’s hard to keep them moving.
- Mile 24: With around two miles left, I’m determined to run the rest. So no matter how much it hurts or how much I don’t want to, I don’t walk for the rest of the race.
- Mie 24.5: I see a guy with a pitcher of beer offering it to the runners. Of course I take him up on it, and they snap a picture of me as I drink. As I run off, the crowds of people behind him give me high fives.
- Mile 26: As I turn onto Boylston Street for the last stretch, I see the finish line after three traffic lights. I count the traffic lights as they pass by so that I know how far I have to go, as I speed up into a sprint with every last bit of energy. As I cross the finish line, I’ve gotten into that delirium caused by exertion, so it takes me a few minutes to figure out why I’ve stopped running. I keep repeating to myself “I did it” over and over so that it sinks in that I’m finally done.
After I recovered a little bit, I was fine besides the pain in my feet and legs. I’ve been taking care of both of those, and I’m happy to say that now I’m just a little stiff. I expect that next week I should be good to go for a run.
Overall, this was a fantastic experience and I’m incredibly grateful for everyone’s support. Immediately after I ran I didn’t think I would ever want to do it again, but I’m already thinking about running another one. I’d be excited to see what I could do when I’m not injured and can train fully. Who knows… maybe one day I’ll be back in Boston as a qualified runner.
