Goals:

1) Enjoy the experience
2) Run the whole way

Packing:

This is the first race I've ever done "away from home".. meaning the first time I did not have the luxury of throwing all my stuff in the car in the morning and driving to the start.  Planning what to bring was almost as much work as the race itself, and it certainly took longer.  To keep myself sane, I took this picture before putting all my stuff into a bag and leaving Austin:



I only referred to the picture once (ok, maybe twice), but just having the picture available was helpful for peace of mind.  I took it so that I did not need to pull open my carefully packed bag to figure out if I needed an emergency trip to wherever I might need to go to get a new one of that thing I forgot.


Getting from the hotel to the start:

We stayed at a hotel in Milford, about 4 miles from the start. On arrival, they told us there was a $10 shuttle to one of the parking areas, where I could take the normal shuttle to the start. Since it would mean a slightly more relaxing start to the morning for Stephanie and Ben, I decided to sign up for the 7AM shuttle.

At 7 on race day, it seems that the 7AM shuttle guy called in sick or something, and the Hotel's front desk manager (Kristine) ended up taking the other runner who signed up for 7AM and myself in her car.  Not knowing the logistics of where the race actually started or anything, Kristine just drove straight up route 85 from the hotel, headed for the state park.  I figured that there was no way we'd get very far before someone made us turn around.  We had buses full of runners in front of us and behind us, and I just hoped that we'd get far enough up the road to walk the rest of the way comfortably.  As it turns out, we were there before the roads closed in Hopkinton, so we followed the buses right into the high school parking lot and Kristine dropped us off right where the buses were going.  Yay for Kristine!  I am told that the later shuttles never arrived either, and she was still carting people in her own car as late as 8:30 AM.


At the Athlete's Village:

I decided that instead of walking around and seeing whatever there was to see, I would plant myself in one spot for a while. I found a nice place to sit, up against a tent post overlooking some port-a-potties in the athlete's village.  I inflated one of my 2-pack of kids' floaty pool tube things (Big! Lots - $2), and settled in for a while.  Here I am, in one of the thumbnails from the MarathonFoto site.  They have bigger pictures available but there's a "PROOF" watermark with a copyright, so I figured I'd just post the little ones.



The red shirt and warmup pants seen here were rented from Goodwill just for this photo op.

It was foggy, and very cold.  Despite the relatively warm clothing I had on, I was still a bit shivery.  A guy near me was wearing a long-sleeved T, shorts, and plenty of goosebumps.  I gave him a rain poncho I wasn't going to be using to help him keep his legs warm.  I also donated my inflatable tube thingy to him when I was done with it (having forgotten that I had two of them). I chatted with some other people in the area, drank water, ate, and basically just waited. At about 8:45, I stood in line for a while and took one last potty break.

At around 9:15, they asked for my group of numbers to head over to the start.  The weather was still foggy, but it had warmed up to the point where I decided to lose the long pants.  I tossed them in one of the donation bags, grabbed my sunglasses (just in case... ended up using them the entire race) and handed my big red bag o' junk to someone in a school bus.  Then I headed towards the starting line.

I was in Corral 5, which was maybe 200 yards from the start, and situated right in front of Bill's Pizza.  Coincidence?  Probably.  It wasn't long before the corrals were all full of runners.  They started the wheelchairs first, then the elite women at about 9:40.  Shortly after that, the sun came out from behind the clouds.  This is about the time I realized I was actually about to run the Boston Marathon.  I am not sure if it was the sun or that realization, but it suddenly felt a lot warmer out.  I decided to get rid of the outer shirt layer, but keep the hat and gloves. 

At about 5 minutes before the start, I really had to pee.  There was no escape back to the bathrooms at this point - we'd already started to pack in tighter for the start.  I decided I'd just find a port-a-potty on the course as soon as I could and take care of it there, despite whatever wait there might be.

Then, the race started.  Everyone cheered, and there was a little more compression, but nobody really moved for about 30 seconds.  Once we did start moving, we were just inch-worming along like Mopac in the morning.  People would go from a dead stop to a feeble jog, to a sprint, and back to a dead stop.  It wasn't until we crossed the start line that we really managed to go.  I waved at the TV cameras like a dork when I passed them - my Mom said she would be watching (she didn't see me).


First Mile:

About 5 minutes into the race, I gave up on goal #2.  Really, I had given up before the race started, but here's where I actually ended up stopping for the first time.  Several (hundred) other runners were taking advantage of a wooded area off to the right side of the course.  I followed suit, and took a nice long bathroom break, then got back on the road to continue running.  I was taking it easy - runners were passing me slowly on both sides.  I wanted to be going in the 7:30-8:00 / mile range for this part of the course.  When I hit the first mile marker, and my watch said 8:04, I nearly needed another bathroom break.  With the minute or so I had just taken for myself, that meant I was going *way* too fast, and I needed to slow down.

Miles 2-7:

This part of the race was basically me trying to slow down, and very slowly succeeding.  I still have no idea how fast I actually went during that first mile, but the next 6 were 6:57 (ACK!) 7:06, 7:12, 7:24, 7:24, and 7:20.  I am glad I decided to wear my watch, because I felt like I was creeping along through these miles.  All the people passing me probably contributed to that.  One of the people who went on by had a sign on his back reading "< 3:00 = Sex every day for 2 weeks".  I hoped this was a goal, and not an offer.  I ditched my gloves around the 2nd mile, and my hat at mile 4.  It was a bit warmer than I had expected, but still nice running weather.

The picture below was probably taken somewhere in that part of the course (but not while I was peeing in the woods):



Meanwhile, just past the 1/2 marker, my smallest fan and the monkey on his back are waiting patiently:



Miles 8-16:

I finally settled into the pace I wanted to run. Around the mile 11 marker, a spectator was shouting "Nobody walks mile 11!" and someone's grandmother (perhaps that guy's) was handing out what appeared to be tissue.  Since my nose started running at the beginning of the race and hadn't stopped, I gladly accepted one.  I found that it was actually a bonus - not tissues, but baby wipes!  Just past the mile 12 marker, I could hear the girls at Wellesley College screaming up ahead, though "up ahead" was still a ways off.  When I got there, I was on the right side of the road, but quickly moved to the other side, as some of the guys were stopping to kiss girls on their way by.  I decided I didn't want to end up a casualty of running into one of them.

I knew that Stephanie and Ben were meeting up with some friends of ours (Man Ching + Anne, and their son, Simon) somewhere near mile 14 on the left-hand side, so once I got over there, I stayed over there.  Just after the 1/2 marker, I heard someone near me yell "Go Bill!" and saw Man Ching and Anne.  It caught me a little off-guard, as I was expecting to see them a little later.  I managed to also catch a glimpse of Stephanie as I was running by, but didn't see Ben or Simon.  I think I caught them a little by surprise as well.  They didn't manage to get any pictures as I went by, but they did take a few excellent pictures of the leaders and Team Hoyt:


Elite Women


Elite Men


Team Hoyt

I found another small cheering section at mile 16, in the form of Deb and Jorge (Deb was one of Stephanie's neighbors growing up).  She jumped out into the road in front of me and yelled my name.. I probably wouldn't have seen her otherwise.

Within the next mile was Stephanie's brother and his family, but I didn't see them, and they didn't see me.  But they had a camera running on and off, and actually caught me very briefly on tape.

Splits = 7:32, 7:35, 7:44, 7:44, 7:41, 7:38, 7:36, 7:59, 7:41

Mile 17-21:

Those hills that you hear so much about?  They are in this section.  There's four of them, and for me, the first one was the worst.  Just after a long, steep downhill in mile 16, there's a long uphill for about 3/4 of a mile.  Running up this first hill was the hardest physical part of the race for me, even though my splits would say otherwise.  The entire time going up this hill, my quads were threatening to cramp up on me.  I'm familiar with those threats from the previous two Marathons, though normally it starts with my calves.  At the top of the hill, I resigned to dial my effort back a little bit more. With 9 miles left, I wanted to still enjoy the rest of the race - and I figured at this point I could still give myself a waiver on that first stop.  It had been an emergency, after all. The hills in miles 18 and 20 felt steeper, but much shorter than the first one.  I had the crampy feeling going up those ones as well, but on the downhills afterwards, my legs would just loosen up again, and feel fine. 

This picture is likely to be from somewhere like the 30k marker:



The last hill (Heartbreak Hill) in Mile 21 was also steeper, but not so short. It is one of those hills that looks like it is about to crest, but just keeps slowly getting closer to level while still climbing.  I wasn't really even sure I'd made it to the top until I saw someone with a sign that said "Heartbreak Hill" with an arrow underneath, pointing back the direction I had just come from. 

I should take a break to mention here that at about mile 18, the already large crowds became enormous.  Going up Heartbreak Hill, and for pretty much the entire course after that.  I am sure people were yelling that the last hill was all done, but there were so many voices that only the sign got through.

Back to the running - I didn't feel as bad going up the last hill as I had on the first one, but I wasn't pushing anything at this point.  Despite that, reaching the top was an enormous relief.  My quads were still making threats, and now my calves were too.  Because the downhills had been loosening that all up each time, and the rest of the course is pretty much flat or downhill, I figured the rest was just going to be about keeping myself running until the end.

Splits = 8:18, 8:23, 8:20, 8:52, 9:04

Mile 22:

Mile 22 was awesome.  My legs loosened up, I had settled into a nice comfortable pace, and everything was feeling good again. Split = 8:34.

Miles 23-25:

There was a bit of a steep downhill just past the mile 22 marker.  About the time I started on this little downhill, my left calf seized up on me.  I hadn't actually experienced a full-blown cramp during the previous two Marathons, but this one stopped me.  I hopped off to the side of the road on my right leg, and did my best to work it out.  It didn't take too long before I was back on the road again running, but goal #2 was definitely a done deal now.  But I really didn't care that much.. I was out there to enjoy this thing, and really, I still was enjoying it, and I knew I was going to finish, even if it meant a few more incidents like that one.

I ran again at a reasonably easy pace, though I can't really say it was comfortable past that point.  I kept getting the feeling in both of my legs that I was on the verge of another cramp, and ended up walking through a couple of the water stops in miles 24 and 25, stopping one more time to stretch out and massage my calf.  The spectators were very supportive.  When I was walking, I got a lot of "Keep Going Team Baraka"s from the people I passed.  Of course, they were supportive when I was running too, but the text on the shirt is obviously too small.  I got a lot of "Go Team Barak Obama!", at least one  "Go Team Broken!" and a  "Go..." squinting "Go Red!".

Splits: 10:09, 8:55, 10:10

Last 1.2:

After the mile 25 sign, (I presume at mile 25.2), there was an official-looking "1 Mile to Go" sign.  I had mixed feelings about that.  I very much wanted it to be over and to stop running, but I was still soaking it all in and enjoying the ride.  I decided that with only a mile left, I'd just keep going and ignore the warnings from my legs.  But my legs don't like to be ignored.  Somewhere in the middle of that mile, there was an underpass - really just a divot in the road.  Once again, the downhill part of this divot caught me. My left leg seized up on me, and I got in one hop on my right leg before it did the same thing, and I just stopped dead in my tracks.  I was right next to the concrete wall of the underpass, and found it to be a very convenient place to stretch.  My legs loosened up again pretty quick, and I started running again.

On the last little jog over to Boylston and all the way down Boylston to the finish, the crowd was pure insanity.  It was so loud I thought my ears might be ringing later on (but they weren't).  All that energy from the spectators made me totally forget about anything other than crossing the finish line. That last stretch to the finish is pretty long, but it was awesome. I never saw the 26 mile marker (if there even was one), but I was so overwhelmed by the crowds that it hardly mattered.  I threw my hands in the air and crossed the finish line at 3:32:44.  Split for the last 1.2 = 11:22 (9:28/mile).



Afterwards:

Damn they make you walk a long way at the end.  It took about 45 minutes to get through all the post-finish stuff, and it was mainly because of the sea of people clad in silver capes in front of me.  And after getting my stuff and meeting up with Stephanie, Ben, Man Ching, Anne, and Simon, we did a lot more walking to get to a T station.  I was either standing or walking for about 1.5 hours after the race, until finally, I planted my butt on a red line train, sitting down for the first time in about 6 hours.  But I think that was actually a really good thing.  I recovered very quickly from this race.  The previous two Marathons saw me hobbling around for days afterwards.  This time, I was pretty sore for a couple days, but still able to walk at a normal pace and go both up and down stairs in a forward-facing direction.

And that's pretty much it.  I left out the part about the guy in the pink dress with the wand, the Red Sox vs. Texas scoreboards, the Dana Farber challenge runners, the army runners in full gear, the car dealer's mirrored windows, the barbecues, the drunken BU frat boys, the little kids wanting high-fives, the people hanging from windows with all kinds of sheets and stuff.. and a million other little things.  But I doubt I will forget them even if they aren't all written down here.  It was a great day, and I managed to keep Goal #1.