Ben's Boston 2011 Race Report--City of Miracles

Ben’s Race Report:

Boston—The City of Miracles

Elevation map at the top for reference.

Four days before the 2011 Boston Marathon I developed a severe pain in my side, that limited a Thursday run, making me stop several times during that 6 mile run. It hurt to breath, move, and especially run. I figured it was some freak thing that would go away. However, on Saturday, two days before the marathon, the pain was so severe that I could not complete a 3-mile run, and had to stop several times during those 3 miles. (I actually went into the hospital and ultrasounded my abdomen without finding the etiology.) As you can imagine I was quite discouraged that this pain would limit my marathon. At the runner’s expo the day before the marathon, I attended a lecture by a Dr. of sports medicine/injury from MGH. Afterward I curbsided him, and he thought I either had costochondritis, or tendinitis of the diaphragm. After I told him that I had had 7 days of cold/flu symptoms and coughing, he was fairly confident that I had costochondritis. It is a self-limited condition, but there was little that I could do to cure it before tomorrow’s race. He said about the only thing I could do would be to take NSAIDs, but to be careful of hyponatremia during the race if I did since anti-inflammatory use during racing is not advised.

I tried to jog down the hall after this lecture and had to stop due to discomfort; I pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I would be walking the Boston marathon. Juli and I were going to start in the same corral and run it together, but I told her I would start ahead in wave 1 and I’d see her when she passed me. My side hurt all through the day walking around with our luggage.

The morning of the marathon was windy and crisp. We made it to the Athlete’s Village where there was a sea of people lining up for portapotties. I didn’t do any warmup running because I didn’t want to waste any pain-free running time. I missed Juli while I was walking to the starting corrals, but thought that I would see her soon when she passed me. There was a mass of people at the starting corrals. The anthem was sung. And we waited for the start. Pretty soon the people started moving slowly down the street, then walking, then some broke out in a trot around me. I walked all the way to the starting line and then started to run. I started running very easy since I knew I would soon be hurting; I tried to soak up the whole marathon during that first mile—looking at the sea of runners, giving every little kid five, cheering with everyone around me. It was a fun mile (and the slowest of the day except for mile 24!).

Mile 1 split: 7:27

There was no opportunity to go faster during that mile since I was shoulder to shoulder with thousands of people, and I didn’t want to go any faster anyway. At mile 1 the pain in my side predictably returned, and my hopes that my costochondritis was cured were dashed. My pace slowed. The pain grew in intensity from miles 1 to 2.

Mile 2 split: 7:03

By mile 2 the pain was very severe and at a level that was affecting my breathing. I knew that costochondritis was a pain tolerance issue and my plan was just to keep on running until it forced me to stop. During miles 2-5 the pain continued at a consistent severe level; I wasn’t running well, but just tried to gut through it. I really wanted to stop several times during miles 2-5, but I kept myself running. I spent a lot of energy keeping myself going during these miles. I figured that I would be walking soon anyway.

Mile 3 split: 6:55

Mile 4 split: 6:53

Mile 5 split: 7:04

At mile 5, the pain in my side was getting out of control. I wondered how much longer I could keep this up, and started looking for places to pull over. Then suddenly a miracle happened, in the form and guise of a tangerine powerbar gel. I took my first gel at 5.5 miles, and immediately after, from one step to the next, the pain vanished. I knew in that moment that 1. I would be able to run the rest of the marathon without the costochondritis pain in my side 2. This run was now a race. 3. I had just experienced a miracle. It was as if I was tapped on the shoulder by a higher power. I ask you, reader, when was the last time you had a pain instantly vanish? A side ache (which this was NOT), a muscle strain, a stubbed toe, a bump or bruise, a pulled hair, all pain stimuli that we experience resolve gradually—it is how nocireceptors work. This pain vanished instantly and let me tell you reader that I was born again. I was a new person, and a new runner. I picked up my pace and got into the race.

Mile 6 split: 6:49

My first order of business was coming up with a race plan on the fly. This is how I operate in Boston (Boston 2009 reference). The only thing I knew about the course was that the hills started at 17 and went through about 21 and that there were 3 or 4 of them. I hadn’t studied the course beforehand due to depression over my injured costal cartilage. I figured that I wanted to stay easy and loose during the first 13 miles and take advantage of the elevation loss over the first half of the course. In order to keep it easy I kept my breathing to strictly every 4 stride, any time it inched up to every 3 strides I pulled back. (Breathing every 3 strides is generally my tempo pace). I had only my breathing, perceived effort, and mile splits to guide me as to my pace since Juli had the Garmin GPS.

Mile 7 split: 6:52

Mile 8 split: 7:00

Mile 9 split: 6:49

The next few miles felt great. I was back in the race and running comfortably. At mile 10 my quads started to complain, but I figured it was due to the downhill pounding they were receiving rather than fatigue.

Mile 10 split: 7:00

Mile 11 split: 7:00

Mile 12 split: 6:42

Mile 13 split: 6:49

My original race plan conceived at mile 6 in a semi-euphoric state called for me to pick it up during miles 13-17 before the hills. I scrapped that plan at mile 13 since I felt pretty good. I thought I’d keep motoring along and pick it up at mile 17. My quads were complaining quite loudly now, stupid downhills. At mile 13 I got a real side ache on the right, and I laughed out loud at how pathetic it seemed. It went away shortly. I was still coughing throughout the race and blowing snot rockets everywhere, but those were the only lingering effects of my viral illness.

Mile 14 split: 6:52

Mile 15 split: 7:03

Mile 16 split: 6:51

Ok, let me tell you reader, that I am sure that I have been told that the hills start at mile 17 when you turn at a firestation. I am pretty sure of that. So what is the deal with the wicked hill at mile 16? It’s the biggest of the marathon. As you can see my mile 16-17 split jumped up to 7:20. Anyway, I kept my breathing in check and kept my pace steady. My quads were on fire now, but I thought that the uphills would “stretch them out.” Ha.

Mile 17 split: 7:20

Ok, with that out-of-the-blue hill done with, here is the firestation. Ok, now I’m ready for the newton hills. At this point I started running hard. I let my breathing inch up to one every 3 strides, in keeping with my tempo efforts. If I’m running the Boston Marathon, I wanted to lay it out on the course during the newton hills!

Mile 18 split: 7:08

Mile 19 split: 7:06

Mile 20 split: 7:19

Mile 21 split: 7:23

The hills were hard but fun. I really attacked them and had enough in the tank to keep it up. I passed a lot of runners. My quads were not stretched out or helped out by the uphill effort, as I was pretty sure they would not be. My legs were hurting. But cresting heartbreak hill at mile 21 at Boston College was pretty sweet; the crowd seemed to carry you up over the last stretch. Coming down off heartbreak hill I turned it on; there was a nice downhill stretch and I let my turnover increase and I let my respirations loose. I was passing a lot of people during this mile (which was my second fastest of the marathon). It felt like sledding.

Mile 22 split: 6:47

Ok, no more sledding. My legs are done and I still have 4 miles left to go. I don’t know what time I am on track to get. I really wanted to break 3, but was pretty sure at my 13.1 mile split that it wouldn’t happen today. So I thought I could still stick it in BAAs face and requalify at their new standard of 3:05. Yeah, that seems like a good new race goal. I probably could have eased up and coasted in for the victory like I did in the Delaware marathon at this point, but it didn’t seem proper. I didn’t just want to qualify this time. I wanted to run as fast as I could. My legs were really hurting, and these miles were interminable. But I focused on my turnover and breathing and ran as fast as I could.

Mile 23 split: 7:23

Mile 24 split: 7:08

At mile 24.5 I started to get dizzy. It is scary. My lips and fingertips were tingling. I was seeing through a bit of a tunnel. I didn’t think I would be hyponatremic as I took in no water, and what for me would be a normal amount of Gatorade. Regardless, my primary goal of the race changed from hitting a 3:05 to staying alive. (The last thing the sports injury Doctor warned me about was hyponatremia in athletes taking NSAIDs during racing. Apparently just last month a 35 year old physical therapist died from hyponatremia while taking them.) Thus, my pace slowed during the last 2 miles.

Mile 25 split: 7:45

Last mile. I’m still kind of dizzy so I am not pushing it, but I don’t think I will die. I round the last turn and see the finish line. It is amazing. I start to run as hard as I can. I finish with my arms up. I cry. I pray. I see lots of bloody nipples waiting for Juli. Juli comes in. She ran great. It is awesome. Next year we’ll run it together.

Mile 26.2 split: 9:05 (7:34 min/miles over 1.2 miles)

Time: 3.05:51

Other highlights: I shook Dick Hoyt's hand at the runners expo, and saw team Hoyt running on race day! I got a lot of free crap. I bought a sweet runners jacket that was the last M in the whole joint.