I am writing this on the eve of the 128th Boston Marathon. I figured, what better way to kick off my blog than to tell you all about my own Boston experience in 2018.
After four attempts, I finally qualified for Boston in 2016. It was a big deal in my family. Everyone - my children, brothers, mom, dad, stepmom, sisters-in-law, nephews - was going to go to Boston to watch me run. When I arrived in Boston, I discovered my shampoo had opened and gotten all over my clothes (cue foreshadowing music here). My brother, who lives in Minneapolis, couldn’t even make it - there was a blizzard that shut down the MSP airport. All this to say, things were going poorly from the beginning.
On race day, the weather was cold, windy, and rainy. I thought I was prepared. I am from Chicago, after all. But I did not even have a waterproof jacket. I brought an extra pair of shoes to change into at Athletes Village, and I wore sweats over my leggings. That was the extent of my preparedness. Being from Chicago created in me a false sense of confidence instead of the respect for the weather I should have had. That morning, my kids and I took the T to my mom’s hotel, where I dropped them off. Then I walked - yes, walked - to the bus stop where the buses would take me to Hopkinton. I was already frozen and soaked through before I even got on the bus. While in line, a very nice woman who also happened to be a nurse and an outdoors enthusiast (read: much more prepared than I) offered me a garbage bag and hand warmers. She also offered a very important piece of advice which I use often to this day: Embrace the Suck.
Now, dear reader, I want you to imagine a yellow school bus with all the windows rolled up and the heat blaring, into which file dozens of anxious, wet runners. The hour-long ride to Hopkinton turned into somewhat of a sauna. When I got off the bus at Athletes Village, my plan was to hang out in the tent until my wave was called. They were calling the wave in front of mine, so I thought I’d have a little bit of time. Trying to get under the tent was basically walking through a mudfield, and finding a spot under the tent near impossible. All of the sudden, I heard on the loudspeaker, “Red and blue waves.” I guess they decided that they didn’t want us waiting around in the cold wet weather, so they were just sending us all out together. I rushed to a port-a-potty, removed my outer sweatpants, rubbed some gel on my legs, and ran out to the cement to change shoes. I honestly don’t think any of it did any good. I was still soaked and frozen before reaching the start line. As we walked, I tried to start my watch. It. Never. Started. I mean never. Throughout the whole race. The watch was just never able to connect to GPS. I decided to run by feel, except I couldn’t feel my legs. About a mile in, it felt like there was a rock or something in the sole of my shoe, so I stopped to check - nope. It was just my feet coming back to life after being frozen.
You may have heard of Boston 2018. It was, reportedly, the most harsh weather conditions in about 40 years. Temps hovered around 35 degrees, there was a 35 mph headwind, and it was raining (or sometimes sleeting) the whole time. Over 2500 runners were treated at medical tents, most for hypothermia, and 25 elites dropped out (per this Runner’s World article from 4/16/2018). Honestly, I think if it were any other race, I would have just stayed in my hotel room for the day.
As it was, I told myself, “The only way out of this is to run back to Boston.” Since I am short, I tried to run behind taller runners to block the wind a little. I kept going back and forth between being in the moment to appreciate the experience and being just absolutely miserable.
What got me through the race that day was thinking about the friends that were tracking me on the app, and the family waiting for me in the very warm and dry hotel. And, embracing the suck: preparing myself mentally that it was going to be really hard, but it was a once-in-a-lifetime event, and I was strong enough to handle it. I rarely wear my finisher’s jacket from that day, but when I need a self-confidence booster, I put it on and remind myself, “You are capable of so much more than you think.”
