Boston 2 Big Sur Marathon Challenge

The first time I ever thought about qualifying for Boston was in October 2005. I just finished the Chicago Marathon in a time of 3:50, my first time under 4 hours. I had taken 17 minutes off my previous PR. The thought crept into my mind that maybe I could do it. Two weeks after that marathon, I completed my first triathlon. Though I absolutely love triathlon and the challenge of Ironman in particular, I have a hard time training for a marathon appropriately while competing in triathlon. Therefore, in 2006 when I ran the NYC Marathon (my first attempt at qualifying) I fell drastically short in 3:53.

From there, I was on to Ironman training. Between April 2007 and June 2008 I completed 3 Ironman events. After my third Ironman I decided I would take some time off of tri and really dedicate myself to my goal. I spent July and August recovering and beginning to strength train and build base. And beginning in September, I followed a rigid marathon training program. I saw huge gains in my performance and fitness level. I ran 2 tune-up half marathons that fall: 1:38 in Tulsa and 1:36 at Fiesta Bowl. I was on track for a fast marathon at PF Changs, hoping for about 3:30. I got injured 2 weeks before my goal race and had to reschedule. I chose the Napa Valley Marathon 6 weeks later and prayed I'd be able to do the 3:40 I needed. I know I didn't run the fastest marathon I could ever run because of my injury, but I reached my goal of qualifying for Boston.

Heading into Boston, I was so excited. Boston is my Kona. Every race I've ever toed the line at, be it a local 5k, Ironman triathlon, or 40k participant marathon... there's always been "those people" in the blue jackets. You know, the ones that proudly proclaim "Boston Marathon" on the back with the unicorn. I coveted that jacket for 5 years. And now, that jacket is mine.

Race day was perfect. Sunny, 50s. Light wind but nothing too fierce. We rode the bus to the start line in Hopkinton where we joined 26,700 athletes in the village waiting for the start of the 114th Boston Marathon. I was completely in awe and couldn't wait to start running. I had hoped to be able to run a 3:40-3:45, but I knew that I hadn't trained to my full potential and would have to take what the day gave me. Ultimately I was glad that I enjoyed the experience and didn't try for a PR.

I started out running with the Skirt Chaser and my lil sis. I was amazed by the crowds of runners and the fact that it never thinned out. Ever. It was like the start of an Ironman swim, with Tour de France crowds of spectators. Incredible. Elbows were thrown. People were kicking my feet, tripping me. We were shoulder to shoulder with other runners for 26.2 miles. As a veteran of Chicago and NYC, I thought for sure the pack would open up in a couple of miles. But Boston is different. In Boston, you are seeded by your qualifying time so everyone around you is your pace or faster. So the crowd never thins. You make friends quickly and learn how to go with the flow.

At that half way point, we passed Wellesley College and the women lined the street for a mile. Screaming and offering kisses to any takers. They held signs like "kiss me I'm a senior" or "kiss me I'm Jewish" or whatever particular characteristic made them special. The noise was amazing. At mile 16, I stopped to stretch just before we entered the "hills" of Newton. There were 5 miles of rolling hills through Newton, the last one being the infamous Heartbreak Hill. HH wasn't necessarily any harder than the previous hills, it was just the last one. And it was the one on which we lost my sister.

Halfway up Heartbreak Hill I looked right and left and couldn't see my sister. With the crowds of runners packed around me, I couldn't actually stop or I would have been trampled. The Skirt Chaser asked if I wanted to stop and wait for her, but with the knowledge of 5 miles of downhill waiting for me at the top, I elected to just keep pushing onward. We crested Heartbreak Hill and took off for the finish line. (I found out later she stopped at the aid station and then in the porta potty, so she finished shortly after us).

At mile 24ish, the Citgo sign begins to come into view. There's no longer an actual Citgo station there, but this sign has been deemed a landmark by Bostonians, and it will remain the official marker of one mile to go. At mile 25, the Citgo sign loomed large just to our left. I began to feel emotional for everything that this journey meant to me. My throat tightened as I stifled tears. We pushed the last mile through screaming spectators. We turned right onto Hereford and I looked frantically trying to distinguish the faces of my family in the crowd. Just before we turned left onto Boylston I heard them scream my name. I waved and blew kisses. We charged down the last half mile to the finish line. It was unbelievable. I was beyond words. I ran the Boston Marathon. I wanted to cry but I could barely breathe. I hugged my Skirt Chaser and we walked through the finish line chute (which is like another mile!). I had to stop briefly to consume my entire bag of food that the volunteer handed me. I thought I was going to black out. After a little salt and sugar, I was ready to keep moving. I got my medal. My Boston Marathon medal. I was official.

After an ice bath and slipping into recovery tights, we celebrated with beers and pizza. I convinced the guy in the hotel bar to let me order the 16 inch pizza off the room service menu (rather than the teeny tiny "pizza" they serve in the bar). We ate every bite of the thick crust, cheesy, Hawaiian style pizza. Yum. After pizza we hit the town for a few more beers. It was so nice to have my family there to celebrate with us.

We flew back home on Wednesday night, arriving just in time for rush hour traffic, worked a full day on Thursday and then caught a flight to Monterey on Friday morning. Thoroughly jet-lagged at this point, I felt dizzy from all the flying, but we stepped off the plane to the salty, muggy sea air and immediately fell in love. Monterey is gorgeous. It's a wine country feel with bike paths that connect to Carmel, Pebble Beach, and on down the coast. We wanted to cancel our flight home and just stay permanently. We did a couple of short runs on Friday and Saturday to loosen up the legs.

Race day started early for us, with a 3:30 am alarm. We caught the hour long bus ride down the Pacific Coast Highway to the start of marathon in Big Sur. Being a smaller race (4500 people) the staging was easier and when the clock struck 6:50 am, we were off and running. The Skirt Chaser and I decided not to run together, as it would be harder for him to maintain my slower pace on already tired legs. So I was alone, and thoroughly enjoyed every step of the way.

The first few miles are run through redwood forests on a screaming downhill. There wasn't a single flat in the entire marathon, I should mention. If we weren't climbing, we were charging downhill. Within a couple of miles, the course opens up onto the highway along the coast and the scenery is breathtaking. Waves crashing against the cliffs. Spectacular. Thankfully I ran with a camera and was able to stop and take photos along the way. I ran steadily for the first 10 miles and then we began the climb up to Hurricane Point. At the start of the climb, there is a group of drummers pounding out this incredible, heart-wrenching rhythm. This climb, which is a steady incline over 2 miles (two entire miles of straight uphill), makes Heartbreak Hill look flat. With every switchback I looked over my shoulder to see where we had come from. At the top, I had a volunteer take my picture before I started on the steep downhill.

At the half way point, you run across Bixby Bridge. There was a pianist whose melody you could hear for a mile away. From then on, it was steep rolling hills all the way to the finish line. With every mile, I checked my splits and at some point around mile 20, I realized that there was a very good chance I could finish in under 4 hours. Considering I had planned on a 4:30 marathon, I was stoked. I ran steady, strong the whole race. I was so inspired that I never hit the wall. I did get a little low on sugar around mile 18, but nothing a little PowerGel couldn't fix. At mile 25 there was one last climb. At the top of the climb, I knew I only had a half mile down hill to the finish and I allowed myself to push it. I crossed the finish line in 3:56:52, only 90 seconds than my Boston finish 6 days ago.

I have never been more proud of a marathon finish as I was in Big Sur. I surprised myself. I didn't believe in myself before that day. But after that finish, I was on a high that still carries me today. I floated through the finish chute and got my medallion (totally awesome and not the usual medal) and then on to the food tent where the Skirt Chaser met me. We headed into the B2B tent where they had our B2B medallions, jackets, and kegs of beer along with a huge spread of fruit, pastries, and cookies. We celebrated with a couple of beers (or at least I did) and then found the shuttle back to the hotel. In lieu of an ice bath, we soaked our legs in the chilly Pacific Ocean before showering and heading to lunch.

That evening, we joined the festivities at the after party. This was the nicest spread of any marathon I've been to. Tiny shot glasses of clam chowder passed on trays. 6 different salad choices in decorative cocktail glasses. Sliders: mushroom, chicken or beef. Ravioli. Mushroom risotto. Food was good and the beer flowed.

We were sad to see our two weeks of travel come to an end. From this experience I learned that I am a good downhill runner as my quads never experienced an ounce of soreness, which everyone warns you against in Boston. (My hamstrings are another story...) I learned that I am capable of running strong back to back. I have endurance. I am strong. My belief in myself is renewed and I fell in love with running all over again.

The Boston Marathon was a once in a lifetime dream. An accomplishment I will be forever proud of. But the Big Sur Marathon stole my heart.