TWENTY-ONE MILES!

I'm a bit sorry for the unimaginative title of this post--I thought of a few more creative than that, but none more satisfying. =)

Last, last Saturday (3/27) was a 21-mile run with The Children's Hospital on the course, much like the 17-miler we did before, except this time we ran the *first* 21 miles and ended shortly after Heartbreak Hill.

An elegant, simple illustration of the course can be found on this page of Boston Partners website--thanks to the wonderful Jess for designing it!

Jess's latest blog post (more appropriately, her latest epic poem) has inspired me to divide this one into parts--let's go with six parts, in honor of (but not at all based on) the six towns we ran through.

I'm not sure I've mentioned it before, so let me now: I'm an English major. I'm apparently incapable of short blog posts. =)


I: How 19 Miserable Miles Messed with My Meddlesome Mind

The recap in my last blog post of our 19-miler simply did not do it justice. Let me quickly revisit two really important things I missed.

1) Gary and Bob are my heroes. Two friends of Erin's were kind enough to offer their services at a water stop by the Charles River. They volunteered for this duty. On a Saturday morning. In the pouring rain. I can't believe I didn't mention this in my last post--seriously guys, thank you.

2) Gary and Bob are my heroes. Not only did these two endure an early hour and egregious weather, they served as Laura and I's only water stop. There was apparently another one later on, but we were both so focused on taking one step and then another that neither of us actually saw it. I don't think we realized how much of an impact this had on us at the time, but one water stop is just not quite enough for a 19-mile run.

Laura's title for her blog post about that miserable run sums it up beautifully: "19. 19? 19!" We conquered, but it hurt.

I mentioned hitting the wall somewhere around Mile 17 last post, and I meant it. Every step after that mark was a struggle, so much so that when the time came to think about tacking yet another 2 miles onto 19-miles--well, I was freaking out.

21-miles? Really?? Can't I catch a cold before Saturday morning hits?

My mind kept returning to something our coach's wise wife had told us immediately before heading out for the 19-miler:

This run is going to be hard; there's no doubt. But I don't want you to worry that adding another 10k onto this run or the next long run is going to be that much harder than what you're about to do. In some ways, the marathon is easier. You'll taper down in training miles before the marathon, so your muscles will be rested. You'll have so much support along the way--so many water stops, fans, and adrenaline that in many ways, this 19-mile run and the upcoming 21-mile run will be more difficult than the marathon itself.

With this advice and the memory of the 19-miler in the forefront of my anxiety-ridden brain, I resigned myself to the fact that this 21-miler was flat-out going to suck... but that if I could do this, I could do anything.


II: "I've never been so thankful to start running!"

Teammate Brandt was kind enough to give Erin, Laura and I a ride to Boston College, where the buses awaited us to transport runners to Hopkinton. Thanks to the aforementioned anxiety about the pending run, I would have been all nerves on the bus ride over--but teammate Todd saved the day. Scene:

Todd to Erin: "How long is this bus ride?"

Erin to Todd: "About an hour."

Todd (removes crossword puzzle and pen--revealed to audience for the first time--from jacket): "All right then."

Todd and I spent the next 60 minutes too busy pondering what twelve-letter word fits the clue "Views" to worry about the run looming inevitably in our not-so-distant futures.

We finally arrived to the small town of Hopkinton, where I was *not* particularly eager to get off the bus. Not only did stepping out of our transportation bring me that many steps closer to the Start Line--but it was downright cold outside.

We left the bus and stood around, waiting for fellow teammates Jess and Lisa to join us from another bus pulling in behind ours. And though we tried to heed our coach's advice to stand *calm* and *still* before a long run--to preserve all the energy you possibly can to put into the run itself--we couldn't resist bouncing around a little in a weak attempt to combat the below freezing March morning temperature.

Jess and Lisa joined us just in time. A huge group of Children's Hospital runners were just getting up to the Starting Line to begin, and we wanted to follow them to ensure we wouldn't get lost. (The sheer number of their runners helped, as did their hard-to-miss singlets--see below.)


We were half-frozen, but we were off! Between the pre-run nerves and the pre-run weather, it wasn't long before this chapter's title phrase came out of my mouth: "I've never been so happy to start running!"


III: Hansel & Gretel Revisited

Fortunately for our muscles and our psyches, we warmed up quickly. In a trash bag at the third water stop, I shed the free gloves given out at one of the promotional tables set up at the Start Line. We noticed quite a few discarded gloves and carb gels (also given out in Hopkinton) on the ground along the course, and my usual Long Run Running Mate, Laura, pointed out that we needn't fear getting lost; we could just follow the trail of gloves and gel like Hansel and Gretel. The Gu packets provided the same nutrition as bread crumbs, after all--just carbs in a different form!

...And surely you can see how chatting with this clever lady would make 21 miles a bearable task! After all, that's three and a halfish hours to spend with someone--how many people in the world would you voluntarily spend three and halfish hours straight with? Not to mention, of those people, how many happen to want to run a marathon and happen to run at your same pace? (This assumes that the general "you" wants to run a marathon and is, consequently, inherently flawed from the start.) =) Anyway, my point is that I feel quite lucky to find such a well-suited training partner!

Top Five Other Reasons Laura Rocks to Run With:
5) She gets appropriately excited to hear "No Diggity" at a water stop.
4) She remembers that the street sign she knows you get excited about is coming up even before you do.
3) She can (and will) carry on an intelligent conversation about Ramona Quimby (age 8).
2) If you have a terrible 80s song in your head--with zero prompting--she will whistle the Mario theme song in order to replace it.
1) Drum roll, please... aaaaand see Chapter V. =)

We will refer to this the "I Laura" chapter--the "I Erin" chapter is still to come.

This marathon's making me gooey. [Bam! Foreshadow!]


IV: I Feel Good (I Didn't Know that I Would)

I spent much of the first miles of the run freaking out that we were starting out too fast. Our coach had just sent out an email with the ominous warning, "If you start out too fast, you can never turn around and redo it." It sufficiently frightened me, and more than once, I asked Laura, "Do you think we're going too fast? How fast are we going? Do you think we should slow down here?"

It was also our first time trying out the start of the course, and we were quickly learning just how downhill the beginning is. The immediate consequence seemed to be my freaking out that we were running too fast--the consequence in later miles was some mild barking from our tired hamstrings. That didn't appear until near the end of that day's route, though--I'm getting ahead of myself!

What seemed to be just shortly into the run, Laura's magical GPS watch sang for the seventh time. "We're already a third of the way done!" she exclaimed. "That great," I said rather automatically, initially only half-digesting the magnitude of her words. A few seconds later, I understood. "That's phenomenal!" We both felt great, and Laura commented that it still felt like we had just started running.

Much of how phenomenal our legs felt was owed to the run/walk method--I've mentioned it before, and I'll probably mention it again. After every nine minutes of running, you walk for one minute. This causes you to run the nine minutes slightly faster than you normally would, so you actually keep the same pace (and feel way better, given the minute of muscle-recovery time) that you would normally--our Coach actually argues that over the course of 26 miles, this method makes beginning marathoners faster.

It took me a bit of convincing to initially try the run/walk, though not as much as Laura, the self-proclaimed pony: "Once I get going," she once told Erin and I, "I don't want to stop!" This run was ideal for proving to both of us that we really aren't losing speed.

I usually picture a "ghost" version of myself (this image will make the most sense to gamers, I suspect--see third paragraph of this article if you're curious) who runs the whole marathon at a slower pace, and the run/walk version of myself attempts to keep up with Ghostie. Ghostie is way out in front for the first half, but my run/walker ultimately catches up and passes the constant runner--feeling much less dead to boot.

At the 21-miler, I didn't have to imagine a theoretical "ghost" runner. We ended up falling into pace directly behind a pack of three or four very fit-looking girls from The Children's Hospital team. Every time we walked, we would fall behind them, and every time our nine minutes of jogging were up, we caught back up. We ultimately passed them and finished in front of them when they broke off for a bathroom break (cheating, I know), but referencing them as a speed barometer was great for me to quell any remaining doubts that run/walk was the way to go for the marathon. To borrow Erin's metaphor, we're believers.


V: Gu Gu Dolls

The most loyal of readers may remember that way, way back in a previous post, I discussed buying a carb gel packet to try and then promptly losing it on my run. I wasn't particularly heartbroken, since the thought of carb gel in a packet did not sound appetizing. At all.

Consequently, up until this point, I had always carried real food with me: granola bars cut into chunks, gummy bears, pretzels. With the pockets provided on my training jackets--necessary all throughout winter training--carrying the food was no problem. Now, however, with summer temperatures approaching, how could I possibly carry baggies of snacks in a tank top or pocketless capris?

I did buy a miniature fanny pack in an attempt to replace my ever-so-taken-for-granted pockets, but alas, it couldn't hold the same volume. Large portions of energy in small packets seemed to be the solution.

Alas, I would try a carb gel.

And you know what?

THEY'RE DELICIOUS.

If you are a long distance runner and you share my former fears of a possibly weird texture, disgusting taste, etc.--go buy a Betty Crocker can of pre-made fudge frosting. If you enjoy a spoonful of that by itself, you can probably handle a Chocolate Outrage Gu. You might even love it.

...Which brings me to the #1 reason Laura Rocks to Run With: she did not judge me when I told her this. And though her flavor of choice is Chocolate Mint... she even kinda agrees.

We should start a mainstream rock band...


VI: Unbroken after Heartbreak Hill

This was not the first time we had run Heartbreak Hill; we had already once beaten that beast on the 17-miler. This was, however, the first time we had run Heartbreak Hill in "real time"--as in, facing it after already having run 19 miles.

But we were ready. Welcome to the "I Erin" chapter.

I usually run to work with Erin three times a week, and she plots wonderfully insane routes. We tackle the most challenging hills in Somerville, and those who know Somerville know that that's saying something. Erin, Laura, and I all tackled a 13-mile route she planned for us that somewhat mimicked the Boston course; we started with few hills and ended with a finale of altitude change madness. It was tough considering it was supposed to be an "easy" week of thirteen miles--but man did it pay off. The hills of Newton (including Heartbreak) were certainly not easy, but they were manageable.

Near the beginning of the hills, I proposed there be a subdivision of Mario characters. We determined that really, it should just be the villains. Street names should include Bowser Blvd, Koopa Lane, Hammer Brother Circle.

And at the end of the last hill--where the 21-miler concluded, and where we could finally breathe easy--I kid you not--we saw this man:


I made a short, painful walk down a hill to ask Mario to pose for that picture as evidence that he wasn't a post-run hallucination--we actually saw Mario!! We then took our traditional celebratory photo of Laura's GPS watch to prove that we really did just run 21 miles, and I collapsed on the ground--my legs were literally shaking when I stood. We were tired, sore, and oh so triumphant.



Here are a couple more pictures, courtesy of Erin's camera (thank you, Erin!) This be the group, each of us sporting a lei handed out at the finish line.

from left to right: Jess, Erin, me, Laura, Lisa, & Todd

And this be Erin and Jess in a triumphant finish:

Another bit of marathon madness complete!