The Boston Marathon. A race that comes with great history and prestige. The only race that I’ve had to qualify for in order to enter. The race that I have had on my radar since 2022, worked to qualify for through 2023-2024, and spent the last few months training and planning for. The official build was 17 weeks, but it was so so much more than that. There is a lot I could say about the training, and the planning, but for now, let’s jump into race day…
Finally, a marathon morning that didn’t begin at the crack of dawn! The wave I was assigned to kicked off at 10:25AM. I got up, had coffee and a bagel, lots of water, a banana, topped off with another cup of coffee. My dad drove me out to the assigned parking lots where you take a bus ride from there to the starting area. Riding in the passenger seat in the car with my dad brought back memories and feelings of being driven to high school track meets or even getting dropped off at college. The nervous, fairly quiet ride. It all felt a bit surreal, that I was getting dropped off to start the Boston Marathon, as I went through my gel selection and Spotify playlist one last time while the nerves continued to build. I was so grateful for the ride and company, especially when the other option would have been to take the train into Boston alone at 6AM and take a long bus out. It may sound dramatic, but there is nothing like feeling the silent support of someone who will do anything for you when you are pursuing a dream.
I was dropped off at a parking lot, where they were actually not letting people get out, but Drew was already there so I practically jumped out of my dad’s moving vehicle as a cop wasn’t looking. We said very quick goodbyes and I jogged through a row of brush to find Drew. From there we got bused to start area which was about another 15-minute drive. We talked a bit on race plan, but mostly just reveled in the fact that we were actually at the Boston Marathon, heading to the starting line.
In terms of a race plan – I didn’t have a strict one. I did have a few thoughts though. (1) Given the hills in the back half of the race, I thought there was no realistic shot that I run a negative split (meaning the second 13 miles are faster than the first), so my plan was to go out somewhat aggressive, see if I could hold on, and hope that I had enough in me to finish strong though slower than I started. (2) I had an injury free, uninterrupted, extremely solid 17-week build. It wasn’t quite perfect, as the freezing temps and ice early on made it difficult to do any speed work, and I was knocked down with a bad sickness about 6 weeks out, but all things considered it was pretty darn good. I felt that on a good day, a PR was possible (3:15, aka ~7:28/mile), on a great day, I could shave a few more minutes off (3:12, aka ~7:15/mile). (3) I had studied the course map and listened to many pro-runners talk about the course. It is known to be hilly and quite difficult, and I thought that would play to my favor (I’ve run the Mushroom Cap half marathon, which is wildly hilly, and I’ve crushed the hills, so I thought I would be able to handle a hilly course well). I said to Drew on the bus something along the lines of “I’m excited for the hills, bring em on”. (4) I had many people, both in person and from a far, watching, supporting, cheering for me – so obviously I was going to swing for the fences to try and make my people proud. I was running the Boston Marathon for gosh sake, what’s the point if I didn’t go for broke. In the past, especially going back to high school racing days, I often ran conservatively and kicked into a new gear in the last third of the race. This time, I wanted to put it out there from the start and see what happened.
So with all that said, Drew and I chatted for a minute about pacing, and decided on trying to average around 7:20s, maybe a few seconds faster in the earlier miles, and a few seconds slower in the later miles.
We got off the bus at the start area, and from there it was a 0.7 mile walk to the actual starting line. After standing in line for way too long at the bathrooms, it was time for Wave 2 runners to start the trek into Hopkinton for the start.
I loved the walk to the start. We were strolling in the middle of a neighborhood street that had been shut down. People were posted up in lawn chairs, clapping for the masses, as we just walked to the start. Some people had water and oranges for anyone who wanted a last-minute snack. It was pretty amazing. I’ve obviously heard great things about the crowds at Boston, but seeing the support on that walk before we had even started the race… I knew this was going to be special.
We finally got into the center of Hopkinton, which was a cute small town with a quaint main street. Drew and I exchanged many smiles and sighs and ‘oh my goshhhh’ as we stood waiting, and they sent us off fairly quickly. I decided to go one airpod in my ear, and one ear open to be able to take in the crowds. I lined up the first two songs on my playlist, ‘Run This Town’ and ‘Shipping up to Boston’.
The first three miles or so always go by in the blink of an eye for me. There were stretches of crowds on lawns, mixed with stretches trees, which really made it feel like a local race. But every time we would go over a hill and could see the runners ahead of us, the sheer volume of people in the race was insane. We clicked off mile 1 at 7:23, mile 2 at 7:10, mile 3 at 7:17. I felt great, like it was fairly easy, and that I wasn’t expending too much for how early it was. I also felt like it was very difficult to sense how fast I was going given the level of crowds and the excitement. When we hit 7:10 at mile 2, Drew turned to me and said ‘just so you know that was a bit fast’ and I said ‘well it’s in the past now’. We exchanged a few comments, really taking in the people both in the race and cheering for it, and forged ahead.
We continued on mile 4, where we saw one of our personal cheering sections for the first time! Katie and her family, Drew’s parents, and Elaine, Daniel! When I say there is nothing more fun and motivating than finding the people you know in the crowd, and having them scream for you, I mean it. There is nothing better.
One thing that surprised me during those first few miles was that there was some uphill among the downhill. I heard so much about how downhill the first 6 miles were, but the hills were fairly rolling, and not as steep as I was imagining. Even still, I was feeling good. And I was really trying to soak the whole experience in. Often right from the start of a marathon, I am playing the mental game of how many miles I have left, and constantly taking inventory of how I feel and if I can make it to the end. But this time I didn’t have that at all. Those first few miles I felt fully present.
My family was next on the list to pass, between mile 6 and 7 in the town of Framingham. Every time we would approach the center of a new town, the crowds would become 3 people deep and so loud, and Framingham was no different. I scanned the crowds for probably 2 straight minutes, making absolutely sure I would not miss them, and finally found them. I spotted them easily because they had a huge poster of face, and another mini one on a stick. They screamed for me and I tried to make eye contact with each of them, to get all the love and energy possible.
The miles continued to click off, mile 4 at 7:13, mile 5 at 7:23, mile 6 at 7:02, mile 7 at 6:59. Definitely faster than the theoretical plan, but I was not worried. Although in retrospect, I should have been :)
It’s hard for me to exactly pin-point when, but sometime between 8 and 10 miles, I was feeling slightly brain-foggy. I wasn’t sure if it was just that I had one headphone in with music and was getting screamed by crowds in the other. But after running a bit more, it didn’t seem to be passing. My legs felt fine and breathing was under control, but wasn’t feeling fully fresh or sharp. I turned to Drew at some point and said something along the lines of ‘I’m fine as of right now, and plan to keep giving this my best, but I’m not really sure how this is going to go’.
Around mile 10 we ran through Natick which was one of my favorite spots. The small-town main street was very cute and fun to run through. At one point, I decided to run on the edge of the course and high-five bunches of kids with their hands out.
The next few miles were a bit of a blur, but I had a few thoughts going through my head. First, I could not get over the number of people who were giving out their own unopened water bottles or oranges on the side lines. It was honestly bringing tears to my eyes just the level of support from strangers. I also remember thinking between 10-13 that I couldn’t believe this is the Boston marathon and how fast it’s going.
More miles down, mile 8 at 7:11, mile 9 at 7:13, mile 10 at 7:19, mile 11 at 7:30, mile 12 at 7:26, mile 13 at 7:22.
On paper, that is averaging 7:16/mile for the first half. Amazing! I didn’t quite feel amazing by that point though, but I really wasn’t sure what might be to come. Around like 11 I stopped looking at my watch each time a mile clicked off, and started just running based on what my body could handle. Which I could tell was getting a bit slower, but still okay.
The Wellesley college scream line was pretty epic. I again went to the side and high-fived a bunch of students with their arms out. This was a distinct point where I knew I wasn’t feeling 100% but I was trying to put on a smile to will the good energy. We also saw Katie and crew again around mile 12 which was another boost of energy.
By this point in the race, the sun was in full force, and in the grand scheme of things the weather was good, but it was a bit hotter than I was expecting, so I was taking water or Gatorade at every water station on the course (~once per mile). It is worth noting that in other marathons, I’ve taken water every 2-3 miles, and just little sips when I did so. And of all my training this cycle, I ran with water (1 thin bottle) on only maybe 4 runs, since it was cold majority of the build and I wasn’t sweating out much.
Drew and I didn’t exchange many words past the halfway point. We often split up to grab water at the stations and connected back up after the chaos of thirsty runners and thrown paper cups subsided. Outside of navigating that, the majority of my thoughts during miles 13-15 were that I recall the course map showed a nice long downhill between mile 15-16, so I focused on making it to that. Once we got there, there was some relief from the downhill, though it wasn’t as easy and rejuvenating as I imagined it would be.
Somewhere between 16-17 Drew made a comment that we had single digits to go. Hearing it out loud was super exciting, and I still was surprised how fast the experience itself was going.
Then came the hills. But if I’m being honest, I already don’t have much memory of them. Miles 17-18 were manageable, though I could tell they were slower. I also knew my family was posted up around mile 19 to cheer me on one more time, so that was my next mental landmark to reach. Right before 19, I started to slow up more and Drew began to pull ahead. Unlike the water stations where I could see him looking back to reconnect with me, he didn’t turn back, and I knew this is where we would part. Right after that, I passed my family, and did my best to smile and wave. I felt much duller than the past cheers with our people, and was wondering if they could tell I was on the brink of struggling.
More miles down, mile 14 at 7:21, mile 15 at 7:33, mile 16 at 7:26, mile 17 at 7:48, mile 18 at 7:42, mile 19 at 7:42.
From there, I was almost at 20, which sounded nearly finished in my mind. It’s so funny to me that I’ve done this 5 times now, and the mental games that go on are new and different each time. In Eugene, I remember getting to 20 and thinking 6 more seemed so far. This time, it felt like the race was almost over. The other funny thing is, in reality, the race was far from over and I was about to find that out.
I took each new incline one at a time. I had heard so much about the Newton Hills that the uphill was not a surprise. After going up a few, I saw people with signs for Heartbreak hill, and new I was on the last one. Unfortunately, my tank felt it was already on empty, so the relief of knowing I was on the last big uphill was not very comforting, considering I still had 5 miles to go.
Mile 20 at 8:18, mile 21 at 8:58, mile 22 at 8:44.
During mile 22-23, I walked for the first time. It was somewhat strange because I wasn’t out of breath, and of course my legs hurt but not that bad, but I just could not keep going. I still have regret and disappointment about this. I’ve never walked in any of my previous marathons, and can’t help but feel that I could have pushed harder. But it wasn’t happening. So I walked for a few seconds, and then started running because I knew the finish line would come faster that way. After a few more minutes, I started walking again, and this time my stomach was not having it. I stepped to the side and a projectile of neon liquid spewed in front of my feet. Luckily there was a tree along the course railing so there were less people on the sidelines than most of the rest of the course, but a mom and her young daughter totally had a close up view of the whole thing. After one or two more releases, I felt fine and kept running. You better believe the mom and little girl were screaming in my ear encouraging me to rally. Wild. About 30 seconds later, I ran right by a girl from my hometown. I was very glad she didn’t seem me less than a minute prior, and also very glad to pick up some energy for her.
Mile 23 at 10:05.
There wasn’t too much mental talk going on at this point other than to finish, and thinking that the pro runners had just run through this, so to channel their strength. I knew I would see our family friends the Fishers at some point, so that gave some extra motivation. I was mostly running at this point, but bargained with myself that I could walk each time I got to a water station. So I did that. And I took many water and Gatorade cups in an effort to refill the liquid I had thrown up.
Mile 24 at 8:48, mile 25 at 9:31.
A few times over those last miles, I could not help but think about everyone who was tracking me – my cheering squads at the race, my coworkers, lots of other friends and family from afar. I knew they would be seeing a drastic slowdown in my time. I could picture the conversations: Oh no, I wonder what happened, she’s not going to PR. That was hard. That was also a first for me to wrestle with in the middle of a marathon.
It was hard, and disappointing, there is no way around that. And a few times, I had the thought of calling my mom, to tell her I was walking, and not going to PR, just to share it with someone. But I proceeded on and tried my hardest to turn my mindset into appreciating that I was at Boston, made it here myself, and that I would still finish strong. Whatever strong means for me today.
The last few miles from a crowd perspective were epic. Each street was louder than the last as we got closer to downtown Boston. I was able to partially enjoy it, but I also couldn’t help but notice that nearly everyone was passing me. I was jealous that they played the race smart, and embarrassed that I didn’t. I was actively finding people along the course who were walking or going slow, and was using that to calm myself down and tell myself other people are in the same state as me too. It’s not embarrassing, it happens.
Somewhere close to 25.5, I had to throw up again. The feeling came on very quickly, but luckily one side of the course was against a road that was blocked off to pedestrians, so I ran to that side and released the liquid contexts in my stomach for a second time. A police officer came up after that happened a few times and asked if I was okay. I said yes, and he proceeded to ask if he needed to call an ambulance over. I immediately said no, I felt okay considering, I just needed to throw up. He asked me a few more questions and offered me the last few drops of his water but I didn’t want to take it. I was nearly done, I knew I just needed to cross the finish line. He told me to take it easy around the next turn, and I started walking forward. I immediately heard my name being screamed, and looked over to find a whole squad of Boston College girls Elaine went to school with. I sheepishly looked at them, realizing they just witnessed that whole thing. In return, they fist pumped and yelled and it brought me so much joy and energy and laughter. I started running again. And from there, I knew I could run the rest of the way to the finish.
Mile 26 at 11:02.
I made a right on Haraford, and then a left onto Boyleston, where I looked up and could see the finish line. I decided to take a glance at my watch. I honestly had no idea what time I was about to see on my wrist. I saw 3:27, and was actually excited. I could break 3:30. Not even close to my original goal, but my new goal over the last 0.2 miles to the finish. That last street was unbelievable. Both sides of the course were many people deep with crowds, cheering loudly for everyone. The finish line was grand and I was so relieved to see it. I crossed it, overwhelmed with pride and exhaustion and relief. I teared up a bit, but actually didn’t cry, which I have at every other marathon. I’m not exactly sure why, still processing. But I was happy and proud.
Last 0.2 at 7:40/mile pace. Total time: 3 hours 29 minutes 03 seconds.