Boston Report #4: The Roller Coaster Called Boston

by Niccole Crank

First of all I am incredibly thankful for being a part of Boston and Team Rogue, and I am thankful to the many people that support me, coach me, guide me, direct me and encourage me or even slap me around. I truly am blessed you all are what amaze me and inspire me every day. I really did not think my performance was worthy of a race report (perfectionist) but I owe it to myself and the ones that want to know what happened. It is way too long but it is good and worth the read, I love you all, you are why I run in the dark and through it. For without you it’s not worth it.

Was Boston a great race? mmmm. A great experience, definitely.

Okay to appease my family and number freaks…..I did PR, I ran only two minutes slower than each of the half marathons I competed in added together in the last 6 months (3M 1:24:18 + SA 1:27:13= 2:51:31) (Boston 1:25:10 + 1:28:19= 2:53:29), I PR’d in the 10K in Boston, I came in 42nd amongst national and world class athletes, 2nd in Texas…. And so on. These are stats my husband tells everyone (thanks honey), they make me feel a little bit better, but my time at Boston was a smaller step than intended, I am ready to move forward. I want to start competing. I am ready to jump, now I understand the requirements. I ask a lot of myself and others, maybe too much but that is part of who I am, I push the limits.

“For everyone to whom much is given, from him much will be required: and to whom much has been committed, of him they will ask the more.” Luke 12:48

You can dress it up and phrase it however you want to, but Boston #1 was just not the performance my body indicated I could do if it had been an “on day” and if my start had gone smoother, if my mind was stronger. I slipped for a few minutes, my time was disappointing, but not devastating; it is fuel for the hard work to come. In a nutshell, I was on pace to run a 2:50 or better but the fighting through the corals in the first half took the wind out of my sails, and left me more depleted than we had planned. It is what it is. Similar to a turkey sandwich, it was good but not satisfying.

On a positive note, Boston is my starting place, a new beginning. I showed up on an off day, I fought hard, I stayed with it regardless of my circumstances and pain, I did not give up, I put a dot on the radar map with my name on it. I am much more proud of the fight and coming back from the edge than of my time. The experience was life changing but my time left me with a stale taste in my mouth; it left me thirsty for a really awesome time. I did not break world records or shatter my goals, but I did find out what I was made of and also what I thought I was lacking, what I am really disappointed with, and what needs improvement.

Most importantly is learning to deal with how my perception changes when my body and mind are weak, when I am fighting off injury. I hesitate and my mind lies to me, takes me to dark places I have not been before and I begin to question myself, my abilities, I question everything. Which is unlike my bolder half, it leads me to wonder if my convictions are accurate, and if I really have what it takes… if I am really talented. It is now obvious that I have two sides to my personality, the yin and the yang. While the yang is dominant and present most of the time, I have to deal with the yin side if I want to run free and break my own barriers. Run to win. So Boston was my first race where things were wet, slimy, messy and more complicated than I liked them, but learning to deal with the mess will make me much tougher in the end. Life gets interesting when you least expect it.

yin and yang n. (Chinese philosophy)

the two fundamental principles, one negative, dark, passive,

cold, wet, and feminine (yin) and the other (yang) positive,

bright, active, dry, hot and masculine. The interactions and

balance of these forces in people and nature influence their

behavior and fate. –[RHUD]

Boston-

I was going along in good spirits until about 8 weeks before Boston. Suddenly things shifted. My body was weak (Austin?!) and other little things that need changing in my life, personality flaws, nerves, mental doubts, fears, hesitation, selfishness, past regrets, past wounds, old injuries, well, they all surfaced in full force unexpectedly in the month or two leading up to the race and put a full court press on my hopes for Boston, for my future aspirations. There almost was no Boston. I hope to look back and say those weeks and that race, this time was and is one of my defining moments, because it is the grit of life and how you respond to it and how you grow from it that truly shapes you. Stretching, growing, shining, dreaming, loving, recommitting are all a choices made at the uncomfortable times.

You see, running is more than running for me. Racing, pushing the limits, breaking down barriers, expanding my dreams are metaphors for my life. There is double meaning. If I can do these things in my running life, if I can make sense of it all, if I can accomplish things I never thought possible, then I can do all those things in every area of my life. Then this is just the beginning. You see I have great dreams and great plans…. and running is the road to a map that takes me there. It is not meaningless; it is not just one foot in front of the other. It is essential, just like God is essential in my spiritual life, just like the air I breathe. I run, I pray, I breathe, I dream, I race, I believe…. therefore I can. Therefore I am.

So amongst these obstacles, I challenged myself to be honest, fearless and optimistic so I could feel great leading into Boston and hopefully have a great race. It was definitely a challenge. As the race drew near my body became weaker, my passion was slipping, and I was starting to feel alone in my struggle. Other people’s doubts were starting to follow me around like a wet lost dog wherever ever I would go, and their doubts were starting to smell.

I felt conflicted, I swam around a little while with my doubts, with the sharks, then I had enough and looked for the shoreline. Steve and a few friends gathered around and threw me a life line. I swam back to shore. I made my choice, I chose my passion amongst unbelievers. The smell was gone.

You come to that place, that line in the sand where you stand on one side with your dream, and the world stands on the other, and you have a choice to make if you are brave enough. Which is intimidating, because if you lose what you love; you lose part of what defines who you are.

When you put yourself on the line for something or someone you truly love, you risk failure, you risk rejection, in a sense you risk everything. What you love defines you, it is scary, it is real, and only the brave want to go there. It is easier to hide and not know the answers and play life safely, than to put it all on the line, risk failure and find out that you may not be good at the things you love and you may not can have the things you love.

But that is the thrill of the race. It is worth going after. It is worth the risk.

Sunday night Before the Race-

It is the night before the race I sit and wait quietly, patiently.

I am empty. I wait, I listen for God and don’t hear him….and I don’t get it………….I am running out of time, so I just pray about it anyway.

I am not afraid…. I don’t think…. I am ready, but my body is in a haze? With everything prepared and quiet I look into the mirror one last time, for courage I guess, and lay down to pray and find conviction before drifting to sleep.

I will it to be a great race, I do believe… even if I can’t feel it, I still believe, I still love, I still trust, I still pray, I will try my best until I fall to the ground is what I decide. … I will go with my pace band I hope my body will get in check, if it does not I will adjust in the race, or I will die trying.

The Race-

I realized a few hours before the race that the start might be a real issue. The time I submitted was my Portland time of 3:08 and there had been a cut off date that did not allow me to submit my Austin time of 2:55. Steve and I really had not talked about it too much, because there really was not anything I could do about my coral. I needed to run quite a bit faster to be in the elite coral range (and be competitive) so I was stuck with coral 4. When Mike had told me his pace, I knew he would be aggressive for his seeding and he was just ahead of me in coral 3 which worried me because his pace was 7-10 minutes slower than mine and those around him might be even slower. I did not realize each coral held 1000 runners, and my training partners and competitors were in coral #1. After some thought, a new plan emerged. I knew I had to fight my way up through the crowd early on if there was any chance I was going to PR. I just did not realize the cost of the wrestling match that dance was going to be.

The gun went off and I shot as far as I could, 5 whole feet, once I crossed the starting line I tried to pass people but held back a little as to not kill my quads. It was packed, there would be no weaving in and out of people for many, many miles, so I briefly thought. One guy shot to the sidelines and I followed him. “Adam” was running for a cause, I will not forget his orange shirt and his conviction, or his large quads. We had to off-road it. In the ditch, around gutters, against the guard rail, past an infant (seriously), around barricades, shoot across the road, then back… you get my drift. Some groups in Coral 3 were happy with 6:50-7 minute or more pace and running shoulder to shoulder chatting happily. I really was not there for a fun-run, people were not letting me pass, so off-road it stayed for a while.

I did that for the first 6 miles and my back, left hip, and quad seized up and locked down from the uneven surfaces. I knew that was bad news and decided not to push quite as hard, the pain was a level 7-8 and holding. I hoped it would eventually go away and tried to focus and regroup on what my plan should be. I was worried and decided to PR in the 10K even though it was an old slow fun run PR. If all went to hell at least there was one slow PR to celebrate. It was silly to do that but I needed to smile about something and I definitely got a kick out of it even though my new time was barely faster ( 39:56).

Back to the marathon, the current was strong and the waters were deep that day. Yeah that, or the crowd was rowdy, smelly and unruly. The universe was testing me to see how badly I really wanted to chase down my dreams and there I was… wanting, and scrapping with what I had. I was around 9 miles or so, I had been fighting for over an hour and my body was about to get tired. Mentally it was difficult to continually pass everyone so I focused on pressing toward the half and pictured how crazy Wellesley might be.

People around me were so happy, but I am not sure they were living two strange realities like I was. It seemed like I was running a challenging race against the front runners in one reality but doing pretty well, and in another I was stuck in the back with a mob rough handling me, pushing me around, and keeping me from racing. It was like that movie “Bounce” with Gwyneth Paltrow. Where she missed a train in the beginning of the movie and her life had two different realities paralleling each other at the same time, one being much more difficult and troublesome. In one universe I was running a race that started in coral #1 or 2, I was following my race plan and things were going according to plan, and I would have just enough fuel to kick it in at the end and maybe break 2:50. In the other I was in my current state.. surreal, limping, locked up, still fighting but tired and dredging through each coral hoping to break through the madness or see Steve shortly after 14.

A few things to test my skills- My Garmin was really far off the mile markers, it was 20 -50 yards early (from all the weaving around) so I was not sure how reliable it was, I somehow stopped my stopwatch accidentally, I think it hit my Garmin, and my pace band was optimistically for 2:47:59. Things were interesting, but I tried not to acknowledge any negativity and stay positive in hopes it would turn around with a second wind… or a third, or a shot of tequila.

When Wellesely came up I could hear the girls screaming from a mile away and my spirit lifted. I decided I would take advantage of all that energy and hoped they could magically transfer some of it to me with each person that I touched. I slapped every hand and took in all the energy that passed along with each five, each smile, and each scream. The crowd roared as I held up my arms. It was fantastic and worth the energy expenditure. I gained much more than it took to participate entertaining the crowd. I did not kiss anyone but did blow one or two kisses and yes everyone freaked out. I regained a little bit of my stride for another mile and then I felt my pace start to fade.

I started praying that I would see Steve sometime soon, my spirit was briefly lifted for a few minutes and for the first time my mind ran out of energy and went a drift. Suddenly I was scared. I was starting to drown.

I felt empty. I was an impression of myself and I hoped that my strong will would break through somehow. I found myself fighting off my own doubts as well as Steve’s from the months before, which surprised me because he was 150% supportive the weeks leading up to the race and yet I remembered the few doubts he had (1-2 months before).. Those lies again.One minute you are happily running along, the next a mountain lion attacks you and you are fighting for dear life. I had prepared for that after mile 22 or 24 but I did not expect it so soon, with the constant physical fighting for good positioning early on I was uncertain.

I was starting to lose my vision of what was next, which is fatal for me, so I grasped and fought with what I could and I hoped I could knock myself out of it or pray my way through it. Sometimes my instincts will take over and my body starts racing again, if I am challenged by someone, if I find the passion.

I was like a boxer that had fought 9 really hard rounds and almost knocked out their opponent, and was briefly excited till the opponent got up again, then and had to go another couple rounds maybe overtime. It is the not knowing how long the suffering will last that can defeat you. You may be at the end of it, a second from relief or just the beginning. I was like the salmon swimming upstream just before the top….. Tired in a way I had not felt in a long while, like the tired when my husband had left the country I had 3 kids under 5 years and it is was day 13 or was it?… delirious a bit.

When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems as though you could not hang on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn. -Harriet Beecher Stowe

Who am I in this weakened state, I know what I want, I still believe, but how long can you go before passing out? Can I believe? Can I have faith when my mind can’t breathe?

The world rushes in like high tide and floods life and weighs you down so that your strong dreams and convictions and your positive attributes are really hard to hang on to, the current can be really strong and in that flash flood of a tide I find myself wondering,

Where is your faith now?

I answer-

I know what I want, I still believe! I start to pray.

But how long can I go before passing out?

Can I believe, can I have faith when my mind can’t breathe? – Yes… I think.

I ran up the first Newton hill unsure if that was actually it and Steve popped out of nowhere. God love his soul… The Tide Turned!! Answered prayer!

He was going slow and I could barely catch him. After a few hundred meters I felt his pace, he encouraged me asked me what was going on, reset my stride, ran me up Newton #2 and #3, and tried to talk me back into my happy place again. I was incredibly grateful (he saved me). He glued me back together and I was fragile but hopeful and with a glimmer of inspiration just maybe I could do it. 2:51?,2:52?, 2:53?

It was a long 8 miles to go. When he said good bye I was optimistic and scared but I held on to that grain of mustard seed and prayed I could hang onto it until the finish line. Steve told me to drop if I could and in the worst case use other girls to race to the finish line if that was my only motivation. He gave me a a 6:35 prance…. My vision was shaky, but at least there was one and I pranced to the best of my ability up heart break hill.

The rhythm in the past weeks was 10-15 seconds faster so my body did not like it, and I was not sure if a little faster would reset my body or if I would completely fall apart. Heart break hill was 10 seconds slower than I hoped, but I was really excited to be done. In awe of the great crowd support I picked up the pace on the downhill and hit 6:20 ish. I kept passing people and I really thought I might be on pace.

That was the deceiving thing about the race especially the last half, I was always passing people except for a few minutes here and there and yet my pace was 10 seconds off. I think that is largely where I was unprepared, I need to work on my own pacing rhythms when I run with Kamran I find it… but on my own when I am tired my body awkwardly falls into old marathon pace or the pace of the pack, and painfully so. That pace feels like defeat, well only because it is.

I kept up a steady pace until 23 or 24. Right after 40K I just really wanted to go with the flow of the runners, I was so tired that I could feel my back grind with each step I took and I really thought I might eat pavement. A girl came out of nowhere and it seemed like she was sprinting, I suspect I had been the bunny rabbit for quite a few miles unknowingly… I went with her and after half a mile or so I was truly scared to kick it in at mile 23 or 24. I think it was 24, the long…. Long … long flat stretch and it seemed like the longest mile or two in my entire life, the crowd seemed to close in on me and was a little oppressive. I was truly in a dark place and my husband jumped out and yelled at me, answered prayer #2. I decided that I would hold my pace until 25 and then surge with what I could. Unfortunately that pace was unknowingly 6:45 or so as everyone around me was fading, I went with another girl that was attempting to pass me and I let her be the bunny for mile 24, It seemed like we were running much faster because again we were passing people. I knew to hang on a step behind her, mile 25 was just right, then I would pass her and she would break. So the 25 mile marker hit and I took off, my body thought it was 6:15 pace but really it was just 6:30 and I was flying by people. We finally rounded the corner to the finish line that was a million miles away, I really did not know if I could make it, it looked so far away. I thought I might eat the pavement again, but I kicked it in again (or tried) and I dropped to 6:15 ish pace and passed guys all the way to the finish.

2:53:29 just glad to be done is what I thought, happy to be alive, excited I did it with all that went on. Conflicted and happy. I congratulated everyone around me and shook their hands. We just shared a life goal together whether they knew it or not.

I was happy for a little while that race was so hard on so many levels, “Welcome Back” I thought…. Walking down the chute to get food some thoughts were starting to emerge. “Overcoming the conflicts of this race is what separates the wannabes from the winners, and I will have to overcome those challenges without hesitation to go where I want to go.” It’s not glamour, it’s grit,” I thought. “Now the real racing begins!” “Now it gets real.”

Then Miles 22-24 really started to bother me. I made a choice to let someone pass me in fear that I may get hurt and it would cost me a few weeks or a month rehab, or that I would just eat the pavement, or hit the wall…..but that decision cost me 35 seconds.. maybe a minute, maybe more.

It cost me my pride and my goal. Am I running or am I racing?

At that moment at least 10-15 people told me how amazing I did, and that I propelled them through the last part of the race, they hung on when they saw me run by. Random people came up congratulating me asking me my time, they seemed amazed so I decided that if even for 1 hour or maybe even that day I would go with it and enjoy it. I fell a little short or a hell of a lot short, but that was my best that day weak or not that is all I can ask for. Count the blessings in the short run, be thankful for everything, and analyze the disappointments later. Spend my energy making myself stronger. Today my best may have reached surpassed my “A” goal but on that day B or C was all I had.

The start I could not change, it probably added 2 maybe 3 minutes to my time, I did my best there, but the hesitation bothers me. I made good choices most of the race but the feeling of inadequacy even though I was thankful and persevered was disturbing… that stale taste of loosing.

So it is a bitter sweet PR, it was so perfect and unsatisfying at the same time. It is just what I needed to make me a better runner. If I had been in coral 1 and the race had gone according to my plan I would have learned nothing, I would be more resistant to Steve’s coaching, I would be more selfish, I would be cocky and most importantly I would have a harder time believing in the face of fear and the feeling of abandonment. Now I know those feelings are a choice. Faith, hope, and love conquer all whether you can feel it or not. If you step up or pick it up in faith you may get something from nothing.

Believing even in a vacuum creates energy that can ignite even the darkest places.

When you put yourself on the line for something or someone you truly love, you risk failure, you risk rejection, in a sense you risk everything.

But that is the thrill of the race. It is worth going after. It is worth the risk.

Only the brave will win.

Boston Report #3: There was no other option

*Note: this is long. Really, really long. But you will want to read every bit!*

by Mike Wilen

This marathon didn’t start this past Monday at 10am EDT in Hopkinton, MA. This Marathon didn’t start last year at mile 24 when I was running towards the sub-3 promise-land, feeling great just having to make up 24 or so seconds in 2.2 miles, when my calves seized up and killed the dream. This marathon started a couple of years ago, when I set a goal for myself to get to Boston, then achieve this dream. The game of life dealt me some crappy hands in the last few years, so I needed a goal, I needed a focus, I needed a dream – a dream that could become reality if I worked hard at it. Sub 3 in Boston 2009 was the plan. The dream evaporated last year , so this year, I needed this more than anything I’ve ever needed. Come hell or high water, there simply was no other option but to get this done.

A LONG ROAD FULL OF OBSTACLES
After Boston, my coach and I agreed I needed a break from road racing , to recharge the batteries. 9 months of high mileage trail running that produced a 2nd overall and a 3rd overall at two local 38mile and 50mile races, culminated in a very disappointing 100km trail race DNF on January 10, due to stupid mental games. I quickly buried that behind me, got mentally angry, and started my relentless focus on achieving my sub 3 goal on April 19. It was time to take that huge fitness base to the streets, bring back the speed and get it done. I was as focused as anyone you’ll ever meet and things were going really well.

On the morning of Feb 23, the tip of the quad by my right knee tightened up and stopped my training like a head-on collision. Immediately went to my sports doctor, and he said, rest would sure it. Ummm… I don’t have time to rest, buddy.

My coach, Steve Sisson, insisted that I hop in the pool, something I reluctantly went along with. Steve made me my very own workout schedule, all pool based, different workouts, HARD workouts mimicking the track and speed work the team was doing on the roads. He claimed that I would come out of there, as good, if not in better shape than my teammates. He quickly turned someone who teased Aqua-joggers, into a firm believer in the benefits of Aqua-RUNNING – easy to do when you have me absolutely exhausted after ever one of the 12-15 pool sessions I did.
Then came the morning when taking out laundry out of the dryer, I slammed my little toe of my right foot into the door frame and broke the toe. It hurt like nobody’s business. It hurt so much, that for a couple of days, it actually helped the pain the in the quad/knee go away. But there was nothing to do but tape it to the sibling next to it, and keep moving.

Sisson and I also discussed 2 crucial runs I just HAD to try and get in. The two “race preps” (race simulations) that would be keys to figuring out if I even had a chance at Boston – a 24 mile run with 20 miles at MGP, which I ran on my own at a 6:41 average (Marathon Goal Pace of 6:45), and a 27.5 mile hilly run that ended on the track for a continuous 6 miles, at progressive paces of 6:45 to 5:58min/mile. I nailed them both, and those where great confidence builders, so I knew I had a shot at this, even though I was still in the pool.

After the 2nd race prep, I had been running a couple of times a week with the team in what some would probably call severe pain. “Mind over matter, mind over matter. Keep the goal within grasp.” Is all I thought to myself. Time was running out, and I just had to run, plain and simple. I’d promptly ice down the issue after each run, and played the icing off as “maintenance”. Not sure why I didn’t seek out a second opinion sooner, but eventually a friend convinced me to go see a second Doctor about my injury as it was simply not improving. This doctor turned out to be the miracle I needed. He quickly re-diagnosed my issue and got to work on it, pulling, stretching, stimulating it with ultrasounds and electric pulses to getting me back on the roads in 2 sessions! I now had less than a month to go till race day. I wasn’t completely pain free, but compared to before, this was heaven. In total I ended up seeing Dr Miller 9 times before the marathon to treat my quad/knee.

Things were starting to look quite rosy for me leading up to race weekend, when on the night of Wednesday to Thursday, I woke up at 2:07am with a ridiculous pain in a muscle on the outside of my right leg, between the knee and the hip. It hurt so bad I couldn’t roll over without waking up, and when friends saw me out and about they couldn’t believe what they were seeing! I joked about someone having a voodoo doll to torture my right leg, and that’s pretty much what was going on. I couldn’t walk, get up, take stairs up or down, or even get in my car with severe pains. Dr Miller worked on it Thursday afternoon and yet again Friday morning and I was sent on my way to Boston really doubting that I would even be able to run 1 mile. The visits to see Dr Miller now totaled 11.

On queue, another miracle happened. My hotel roommate Larry, had brought his little portable electro-stimulation machine for some work on his lower back, so I proceeded to set up my own rehab sessions all weekend long. I iced, then hopped in the shower for hot water on it, then E-Stimulated 1 time on Saturday. Sunday was a 30 test/easy run, and it was bad, bad, bad. The quad/knee and the new muscle issue were both REALLY unhappy with the cool weather, and the plane ride and things were looking dismal. I repeated my rehab of ice, heat and e-stim 4 times on Sunday, and 1 time before we left the hotel at 4am on Monday morning. Larry brought the E-stim with him on the bus out to Hopkinton, so I plugged it on to my problem muscle one more time at 8am, two hours before the start.
My power words I wrote down on my pace band for this race were Family, Friends, Sufferfest, Destiny, Revenge, 24. All key words that would hopefully help me in times of need.

RACE TIME!
We had a plan. The plan was actually done last April when I analyzed my splits upon my return to Austin. But it was solidified a good 4 months ago, then ratified by all powers well before it was time to get nervous about race day. Jim and David and I all wanted a sub 3, and since they wanted to run with me, I gladly accepted to have company on the run as long as they accepted my plan as theirs. My goal was to run around a 2:57:00 pace (6:45) until the hills start at mile 17, slow it down to a 3-3:05 (6:55-7:05min/mile) pace through those, then getting back on track for the final 5 miles, getting in at 2:59:10 giving us plenty of cushion if things went wrong somewhere. All of this was based on feel, as I don’t run with a garmin and instead prefer to just feel the pace.

Hotel, Bus, Walk to the start – I love Hopkinton.

After a giant bowl of cereal in the hotel room, and some help from Coach to tape up my problem areas, we headed out to the VIP buses. Yes, you pay a bit extra, but it’s worth every penny. Nothing beats having your team around you for 2.5 hours before race day. We were all in the same VIP bus, and we kept each other calm with fun conversations. Dionn and I sat together as we did last year, to not upset the running gods. The ride up there was fine, but my right leg did not enjoy being stuck in a 90 degree angle for that long. Drank 16oz of nuun by 8:30am, ate a banana at 8am, and a 480 calorie magic (trail running) cookie between 8 and 8:30am. I don’t think there is a better walk to the start of a marathon than in Hopkinton. That alone is reason to kill yourself to qualify. Everyone walks together down a narrow street for 15 minutes. On this day… YOU are an athlete. YOU are the spotlight. YOU are a Boston marathon runner.

Miles 1 -3 : +3 seconds
Before the start this kid in a Hansons/Brooks singlet came up to me and asked my goal pace. I told him mostly 6:45’s which he apparently liked as that would keep him slow (2:57) and he wanted a 2:55 which he would achieve by pickup up the pace later on. He asked if he could tag along. I said: sure, just know that we’re running terrain adjusted miles so some may be a tad fast or slow. I’ll call this guy “Hanson”.

National Anthem, then a flyby of two F-16’s, and we were off! I looked at David, and Jim and my friend JT that was also there with us, and that was the last calm moment for me. It was time to put on my game face, get down to business. This was war and I was ready for battle.

First mile was a little congested, but we kept our calm and just found some room to make up time where we could. Two big down hills helped in getting us somewhat close to our goal. We were 6 seconds slow on mile one, but that was irrelevant. Goal for mile 2 was a 6:35 as was mile 3. Both screamingly fast miles, and we just wanted to stay contained but shave a little bit of time. Hanson freaked out when he saw a 6:34 split for mile 2 and told me I was way too fast. I told him it was built into my plan as was the upcoming fast mile. He didn’t like what he heard and ran off somewhere. Mile 3 was more of the same (6:35 goal)… a fast mile, with plenty of down hills. I tossed my tube/sock arm warmer “throwawayables” as it was well warmer than low 50’s with the sunny skies. We clocked mile 3 at 6:33 pace and were now only 3 seconds slower than our goal time. Unlike last year where I simply forgot to drink water, I was well under control on my hydration this time.

Miles 4, 5, 6, 7: Even Steven.
With the major downs beyond us, it was time to get down to business and lock in on 6:45’s. Too bad Hanson had fired us, because here’s where I/we shine. We quickly came upon the 5km timing mat which means the Internet that’s tracking us would be seeing us for the first time. David and Jim are not as talkative as I am, but I made sure I said: “Guys, with this timing mat, the world is watching us. Our loved ones, our families, our friends. This is why we do this. This run is for them.”

I continued to drink out of my water bottle as the plan was to be done with the water by mile 7 and use the last bit of it, to take down my first salts (2 thermolytes pills). But it was well warmer than originally planned and I was sweating so I decided to go with salts at mile 6. My glute muscle issue and my knee were NOT happy with me today, so I also moved up my plan of some pain relievers to mile 7 from the planned mile 10 treat. At the 10km mark, we yet again passed a timing mat, and I made sure I yet again told Jim and David, that the internet is watching and they must be happy to see that we’re on pace!

Miles/pace wise we were doing well. Legs were finally warming up. Mile 4 was planned as a 6:40 and we hit 6:33, mile 5 was 6:45goal, we delivered a 6:49, and miles 6 and 7 were both planned at 6:45, which we nailed at 6:45 and 6:44. We ended mile 7 at 46:52, with a goal time of 46:52. Even steven!

Miles 8, 9, 10: Easy tiger! -14
I guess we either felt great, or there were more downs that we thought, because we finished these 4 miles at about 5 miles too fast on each one. The highlight here was Hanson was spotted talking to 2 more teams of runners clearly inquiring about their race plans and asking if he could run with them. I commented to David and Jim: what kind of a moron comes to Boston without a game plan and expects to run a 2:55? (I hate to say it, but I was looking forward to seeing him some more). Took my first gel at Mile 8. We crossed the 15km marker and yet again, we knew the world was watching and that all of you were getting rewarded for staring into your computer screens. Thanks again guys, you’re keeping us motivated to do well. We ended this stretch 14 seconds faster than where we were supposed to be. Not really a concern as it’s really just 1 second and change per mile.

Somewhere in here I also decided I really don’t like people that write about their lost loved ones on their backs. I truly admire their drive and that they want to dedicate their run to someone they loved that they have lost… but to me, I need positives positives positives, and reading repeated notes on people’s backs that read: “in loving memory of JOHN DOE. I love you.” Etc, just bums me out. I keep thinking, why don’t they write that on their arm for themselves, kind of like my powerwords. They can’t read it on their backs.

Miles 11, 12, 13, 14: Money. -11
Here’s where I make my living. Flat miles – Cruise control – Lock in the pace and enjoy the scenery.
Unfortunately, Jim wasn’t doing too well. He fell off pace a bit and David yelled at him to get back up on our asses. Jim complied but then fell off pace a bit more. He ran back up to us, and told us he was suffering of really bad nausea and was going to take it easy for a bit and hopefully reel us back in. It was unfortunate and as much as we wanted to wait for him, all three of us knew, that we had to continue on with the race plan. We would never see Jim again, but he rallied and came in a strong 3:07 re-qualifying for next year’s war. Here’s the section where I’d get some more pain relief in me, some more salts and a gel at mile 12.

After a 6:45 mile 10, Mile 11 clocked in at 6:48, and then we hit Mile 12 at 6:43. Immediately before mile 12 is where we ran up on Team Hoyt. It was awesome to see them out there yet again this year. Did you know that Dick Hoyt (the father) is 69 years old? (they would go on to finish in 5hrs26minutes.) Awesome!

Right after Team Hoyt, we started to hear the scream tunnel of the girls of Wellesley college. We came upon them and I did my best Hulk Hogan (hand to ear) impersonation to get them to scream even louder! It was awesome. Neither David nor I had time to stop for a kiss, but maybe next year, I’ll add a few seconds to the plan! After the scream tunnel, we came upon the best sighting of the day. Both David and I laughed our asses off! This big burly guy was on the side of the road, NY Jets fan with a heavy heavy Jersey accent yelled at us: “Good stuff guys. This is really good stuff!” Hysterical and easily the best thing anyone has every yelled to me!

Shortly after that David’s bladder gave way, and he veered off behind a tree while I told him I’d stay steady and run on the yellow line so he wouldn’t miss me as he caught back up. This is where I realized his fiancée Christy would be freaking. I crossed the half way timing mat without David. So now she’s seeing me come by, but no David, knowing full well we’re a team and has my pace band in hand so she knows where we need to be! David catches up pretty quick and we clock mile 14 at 6:50, is 11 seconds faster than planned after 14 miles!

Miles 15, 16, 17 – Start getting ready. -6
At some point in the last 4 miles, I’ve been thinking. Wow. My leg hurts, I wonder how bad it would be hurting without pain relief. My hamstring is now also feeling quirky, so I’ve got a knee, a glute and a hammy on my right leg just wanting me to stop. But there is no stopping. There just isn’t. I keep thinking… David has no pace band on him, he is relying on me for timing, but little does he know, all the pulling is done by him because he’s seriously pulling me along here. Without him, I’m toast. David, who had been battling Turf Toe since December and spent a few days in the pool with me, and missed plenty of runs then tells me: Hey, my toe is REALLY hurting so if I can’t keep going, do not slow down. Just keep going. Since it’s time for me to get some more pain relief I extended the offer to share. Today, we make this happen. Mile 15 and 16 have a big down then an up, it’s the perfect greeting to get you out of flat running funk and wake you up for what’s ahead. Along with 17 that has a climb over a big freeway, they’re the miles that break up the flat section and prepare you for 18 through 21.5 where the HILLS await. I missed hitting the split button on my watch for all three of these miles. We needed a 20:35 for this stretch and we clocked in at 20:41. We’re now 6 seconds fast, but come on!, that’s friggin outstanding 17 miles in! Somewhere in here, Sisson found us and ran with us.

Mile 18, 19, 20, 21. – The meat and potatoes.
Time to pop on the tunes, and get some help from Metric, Muse, Airborne Toxic Event and more of my favorites. You take a right and see the fire department, and that’s the start to the hills. 3.5 or so miles of climbs. Not as steep as exposition, but all longer than any of the exposition hills in Austin. I’ve kept my cap on my all this time, even though I’ve been overheating. But the strategy here is to treat myself when I truly need it, so now that we’ve reached the hills, I toss my cap to the side over towards a group of kids. Who know if anyone wanted a brand new, but sweaty cap, but hopefully they washed it and did!?! The cool air on my soaking wet hair is welcome! Ahhh… so refreshing for the few moments it lasted!

Unfortunately, you can’t fool your legs. My legs aren’t fresh, but David is rocking! So he’s dragging me along, and I think he can tell I’m not quite there today. We cross the 30km mat at 18.6miles and yet again, I think of everyone that’s tracking online. It gives me a boost yet again, knowing that I simply cannot disappoint anyone today. I just can’t. Mile 18 goal is 7:05 and I clock it at 7:03, Mile 19 comes along and it actually has quite a lone flat part that allows you to pick up some steam. Somewhere along here, David picks up a little water bottle from a kid handing them out. Then he STOPS, runs back to the kid a few feet, and I’m thinking… what the hell is he doing? What happened? He then catches right back up and hands me a bottle too. Wow. A life saver at this point. Thank you David!

At some point around here, I yelled over to David who is still eager beaver cranking on the hills and motion with both my hands the international sign for slow down, take it easy… we only need a 7:00 here. We clocked in mile 19 at 6:54, but Mile 20 comes out 8 seconds slower than the 7flat we needed so those are a wash. I asked David if we’re done with hills, and he kindly reminds me that there is one more left as there’s no sign of Boston College and the raucous students that will be greeting us. Great! Here we go, Heart Break Hill, you’re next.

A lady dressed and painted in green as the statue of liberty is there to greet us on the sideline. Not sure what that was supposed to represent as Liberty isn’t quite a motivator at this time. I loved the costume, but next time lady, how about a lion, or a gladiator!? We attack Heart break hill, and it’s a doozy. It’s nowhere near the climbs we take on in Austin, but it’s long and it’s steeper than the prior ones and if you’re hurting like I am, you just suffer. I just stare at David’s shirt and keep running, thinking. I am hills. This is my hill today. I’m going to crest this hill, and be done with it. I take our 21 mile split, at 7:08, which isn’t the 7:00 we had planned. But… we’re done with the hills, and I get up next to David, riase my hand for a high five, which he welcomes, and I tell him the good news: We’re EXACTLY ONE SECOND faster than where we are supposed to be at this time! We’re at mile 21, and we are RIGHT ON TARGET!” The race plan is working. We both know we know just need 6:55’s all the way home and we’ll be in at 2:59:10.

Mile 22 – Screaming Eagles!
Part of mile 21, and most of mile 22 is packed with Boston College (Eagles) students on each side. Some have beer cups in their hands, some don’t, but they all have one thing in common. They are loud and it is friggin’ great! At 21.7miles, we crossed the 35km mat and I looked at my inspirational words, staring at where the word Family and the word Friends that have now melted away from the sweat are supposed to be. You guys are watching, I know you are, but damn, this hurts bad.

Mile 22 has a screaming fast and long downhill, so that is a welcome relief. I tell David to not get too crazy on it, as we still have 35 minutes to run. We clock mile 22 as 1 second slow(6:57), and are now at EVEN time with the plan. With 4.2 miles to go. On the downhill I took more salts, more pain relief and another gel. My legs are done. DONE. I looked at my watch at some point and remember seeing 2:24 and thinking. There is no way in hell that I can run for another 35 minutes at this pace. No way. It’s not gonna happen.

Mile 23, 24, 25 – Running on empty.
The work in the pool work has definitely saved me, but it hasn’t totally replaced the 20+ mile runs I didn’t get in to keep the legs conditioned. My legs are dead. Clearly this is where all the injuries, the setbacks, the lack of mileage, the lack of sleep in the last 5 days due to muscle pains has caught up with me. Something out there does not want me to break 3 hours. Something is gonna make this really hard.

David and I didn’t discuss the plan too much. A couple of email exchanges, where I sent he and Jim my spreadsheet and they liked it. I also said something about, we stick together, but in the late miles, whatever happens happens, type of things. David and I would never run together from here on out. I saw his face squirm in pain as one of his calves seized up on him so I knew he was in pain. He slowly distanced himself from me as I just needed to conserve energy and he needed to take what his body gave him. We are even with the plan, and as I said before, all I need is 6:55’s to get me in at 2:59:10 which is now what I calibrate towards.

Mile 23 was brutal. I wanted to quit so bad. My legs have nothing in them, NOTHING. But somehow, deep within the misery brewing in my brain, something tells me to: Just. Keep. Running. I remember my word Destiny and somehow maybe that’s what keeps me barely alive. I’m slow, I clock in at 7:08. 13 seconds too slow. I freak a little, but I also know that I’m now looking at a 2:59:23 finish if I can hold flat 6:55’s.

Mile 24. +16
24 is my number. 24 is the key to this race. I’ve thought of 24 all run long. I have 24 written on my shoes, I have 24 on my pace band and now I run towards 24. 24 is going to be mine this year. 24 is not going to be where I fail again. I may miss my goal, but it will NOT be on mile 24. I somehow pull it together and manage to get the hell and feeling of wanting to just quite and go hide in the sewer out of my head and think 24. 24. 24. 24. I manage to crank out a 6:57, which is outstanding! Now the finish time looks like 2:59:24. I’m still a loooong ways away, and I’m barely at 2hours and 44 minutes in. How on earth can I keep it together for another 15 minutes. This is ridiculous. The thought of “It’s not gonna happen.” repeats itself in my head, but somehow, I just can’t seem to just surrender. David is now nowhere in sight.

Mile 25 – I’m doomed + 31
Just before you hit Mile 25, you cross the 40km timing mat. Which again means the world sees me. I clock in at 2hours 50minutes, and now the game of math begins. I know I need 4min 11-15 second kilometers to hit 6:45ish miles. But I also know a marathon is 42kms 195 meters. Somehow to me, 4:15+4:15 = 9 minutes. But then I realize 15 seconds is not half a minute, so I get really confused. I just decide that it’s gonna be close. It’s gonna be REAL close. More of the same happens here, except it’s even worse in my head. I just want to stop. I can’t physically put my leg infront of the other at a pace that is acceptable. I clock in a 7:10, 31 seconds over goal… which now means the finishline stands at 2:59:41. Oh lord. How am I going to get this done. I literally have nothing left. (turns out David crossed the mat 19 seconds ahead of me )

Mile 26 and 0.2 – I have no idea
The saving grace was a little sign on the street. You see, you still have 0.2 miles to run after you run mile 26. I did some sketchy math and thought that all I needed was to run about a 7:40mile and I’d be safe, but I didn’t trust my match because of the extra 0.2 that I knew needed to be run 1min26seconds. But thank you to whomever came up with the idea of putting an official sign that read: “ONE MILE TO GO” on the course. The 0.2 had now been run on the front end, and my math now wasn’t so fuzzy. I actually had a shot at this, if only my legs had just a little bit more to give me. I kept looking at my watch thinking I might get it done, but it would be close. I knew I was now 20 seconds from disaster but there was no other gear in me. At about 25.7 you go down under a highway, so you have a down, then an up. I wanted to cry on that up. I had no oomph to get me up it, but I stayed calm and slowed down a tad remembering the horrible calf spasm I got the prior year when trying to push the pace. You get up from the underpass, take a right up a side street for maybe 150 yards until you get to Boylston. I’m just running for life here. The side street has a slight incline and it is miserable, but here, there’s Revenge. There’s that building… the building that witnessed my watch go from 2:59:59 to 3 last year. This year, you’re mine you damned building.

I hit the final left turn as hard as I could running for my life. I then looked down at my watch, a moment captured in time by a race photographer. .. high 2:56 is on the screen. The finish line is soooo far away, I have no idea if I can run that far in so little time. I give it all I got, but it’s not much. I’m running on the left side of Boylston, and there in the distance I spot David. I’m slooooooowly gaining on him, which means he knows he’s either gonna make it, or he’s in big trouble. I just focus on running and keep staring at the finish line way in the distance and at my watch. Watch. Finish line. RUN. Watch. Finishline. RUN MIKE RUN. Watch. Finish line. RUN. PLEASE RUN PLEASE. JUST RUN. Watch. Finishline. JUST FUCKING RUN.

It wasn’t till I was maybe 30 or 40 yards from the finishline that I realized I had made it, Finally I could relax and breathe and just close my eyes and let all my muscles let up. I had done it. Last mile was a 6:53 and the 0.2 goal was 1:26. My clock showed 1:24, meaning I had crossed the finishline at 2:59:38.

The brain was overwhelmed. I spotted David over on the right just past the finish line and yelled over to him. He finished 5 seconds ahead and I was so happy we had done it. I walked his way and we high fived. We then began the long walk through the food and liquids stations but just before we did I turned around to David. He thought he was in for a high five again, but this was cause for a hug. We had done it. I still couldn’t believe it. I could but I couldn’t. We collected our space blanket to stay warm, water, bananas, gatorade, little lunchbox with goodies, and finally a well deserved and well earned medal. I continued to thank all the volunteers for making this the best marathon in the world as we continued toward bag pickup.

I was overwhelmed. The dream. The 2.5 year goal, finally acheieved. I wanted to cry but I honestly didn’t know how. I was just overwhelmed with emotions as we walked towards my hotel. We eventually ran into Muz and Niccole who also had great runs 2:49 and 2:53 respectively. That’s where I finally had energy to dig through my bag and pull out my phone. I turned it on and immediately it started to ping from all the congratulatory text messages and emails. Ping ping ping ping ping ping ping… It just wouldn’t stop, and sounded like I’d hit the jackpot at slots in Vegas. It was fantastic. Tears wanted to fill my eyes again as I read them all but again, I was so emotionally overwhelmed that it didn’t happen.

Larry and Steve showed up at the room within minutes, and after a hot shower to loosen the legs, we headed down to begin celebrating. I stepped aside to a quiet space of the hotel and unsuccesfully tried reaching a few people on the phone. And that where it eventually hit me. I had beaten the odds, I had overcome the injuries, I had done it. A goal that meant much more to me than just a time in a marathon had been achieved. A monkey off my back. A release. The flood gates finally opened and the tears streamed down my face as I could finally relax and move on.
Thank you to all of you.

Steve, you always keep telling me that I’m easy to coach because I trust, listen, believe and have the heart to get it done. Well, you make it happen. As I told you in Boston. This medal is as much yours as it is mine.

Ruth, Carolyn, and all the Rogue crew… you’re the best!

Family, we don’t talk often, but you’re there with me every step of the way.
Thank you.

David, we friggin’ did it! We defied the odds and did it!!

Erin, hi!

Mer, thanks again for the positives, the nutrition and hydration plans and most of all for your belief in me. You and Paul are awesome.

Teammates, you’re the best. You put up with my clowneries, my antics and this season had to listen to all my injury bullshit. Thank you to all of you.

Friends, you all know where you stand with me. You were with me every step of the way. This whole journey and this hell of a battle doesn’t happen without everyone of you. Especially 24. And if for some reason you don’t think you contributed to my success, then know that you are wrong. I draw great strength and inspiration from each and every person I accept into my life. Thank you to all of you.

2 5 9 3 8 what a magical string of numbers.

Boston Report #3: They said I couldn’t do it

From one of Rogue’s most inspirational race-reporters, coach Amy Anderson:

I hope to “race-race” the Boston Marathon in 2012. In the meantime, I needed a plan for 2010. I came up with four and left them all on the table until about 2 weeks ago. I reviewed them with my most trusted advisor, who swiftly and unceremoniously rejected two of them. From then on, I kept quiet. Other people were messing with my head.

Some people said that I’d been running for 20+ years and that three days after the race, I’d be 46 years old; I shouldn’t expect to keep getting faster.

Some people said that I was over-trained, that I’d raced three <3:40 marathons in 12 months and that to run Boston as anything other than a victory lap would be four in 18 months. As an example, they said to look at how poorly I ran 3M.

Some people said… wait, you know what? That one was hurtful and I’m not going to repeat it.

But Steve said, “What do those f___-er’s know????"

Mr. Enstone said, “Then that’s the day you prove them all wrong.”

And what did I say? I said, “We won’t know until we try.”

With my eyes on 2012, I decided to solidify my 2009 Boston time. As you look at the comparison, keep in mind that I don’t wear a Garmin. I run by feel. JFR.

2009 2010
1 8:14 8:08
2 7:40 7:43
3 7:44 7:40
4 7:54 7:49
5 8:00 8:08
6 8:01 7:53
7 8:01
8 8:04 16:11
9 7:54 7:53
10 7:56 8:05
11 8:02 8:00
12 7:59 7:55
13 8:01 8:04
14 8:06 7:55
15 8:11 8:07
16 7:48
17 8:17 16:05
18 8:06 8:21
19 7:57 7:51
20 8:10 8:10
21 8:27 8:27 (Heartbreak Hill)
22 7:38 7:38
23 7:47 7:38
24 7:41 7:33
25 7:32 7:52
26 7:46 7:53
.2 1:36 1:41
3:29:38 3:28:49

What was I thinking as I ran for three and a half hours?

In the early miles of the race, it was my mantra from Boston 2005: “It is an honor and a privilege to be here. Savor every moment.”

In the middle, I recited the text message I received from Steve while I was on the bus in Hopkinton: “Believe that you can; Trust that you will.”

Later, when I was working: “Today’s the day I prove them all wrong.”

Next up: I plan to fully experience the New York City Marathon. As I said before, from now on, if Boston is the only marathon that I race, if I only do other marathons for fun or for training, then my Personal Best will forever be in Boston.

More inspiration: Boston Report #2

by Brian Plunkett

Criss and I flew up to Boston on Saturday. My daughter Adele came up from New Haven, CT by train. We met in our hotel, just a few blocks from the finish line.

Adele and I wore our gaudy Boston marathon jackets we got last year (blue and yellow), the only time I have worn mine. Downtown Boston was full of people walking around wearing similar jackets – a spectacle that is part of the Boston Marathon experience, kind of like the swallows returning to Capistrano.

We got up Sunday morning and went to watch the four invitational Mile races – high school boys, high school girls, professional men and professional women. Each race has about 8 runners, and is 3 laps around a city block. It was very exciting – several races were decided by just a couple of seconds.

After the races we went to the expo and picked up our race bibs and bought some marathon gear. Madhouse in the Adidas Boston Marathon gear area – jackets, singlets, short sleeves, long sleeves, hats, pants, gloves, mugs, keychains, etc, etc, all being snatched up at an astonishing rate. Amazing how a little 3 inch logo can make something a necessity.

My sister and her husband from New Hampshire came down and had an early dinner with us. She is a psychiatric nurse. I got her professional opinion: I am nuts to run marathons (and other assorted reasons).

Got everything ready for the morning, and early to bed.

Up at 5:45 Monday morning and Adele and I took a cab over to Cambridge to catch a charter bus to the start 26 miles away in Hopkinton. The race provides school buses to the start, but the charters let you stay on the bus for the 2 hours until the start which is useful if there is bad weather. Even more important, the buses have toilets on them – a spectacular treat when the porta-potty lines are 20 deep. Jim Gelb was on the same bus, and it was very nice to see a familiar face. He looked strong and ready to run.

The weather was perfect – 50 degrees, clear sky, slight side/tailwind. No weather excuses today!

There was a very organized “Athlete’s Village” – big tents, bagels, bananas, Gatorade, water, coffee, powerbars. 25,000 runners all sitting, laying and wandering around trying to kill 2 hours. Looked like a refuge camp.

We walked around a bit, and spent most of the time sitting in the bus resting our legs and exchanging stories with other runners from all over the country.

A woman near us had “the trick” written on her arm. We asked her about it – she told us the story:

In a famous scene from David Lean’s 1962 masterpiece, Lawrence of Arabia, Lawrence (played by actor Peter O’Toole) cooly extinguishes a match between his thumb and forefinger. William Potter (Harry Fowler) surreptitiously attempts to try it himself:

William Potter: Ooh! It damn well ‘urts!
T.E. Lawrence: Certainly it hurts.
Officer: What’s the trick then?
T.E. Lawrence: The trick, William Potter, is not minding that it hurts.

The “trick” would come in handy around mile 22…

About 20 minutes before the start Adele and I walked the half mile over to the starting line and made one last pit stop (lots of porta-pottys at the start – no waiting!). We were in the second wave, starting 30 minutes after the elites and the faster runners. I figured I did not have much chance to win the race but giving the elites a 30 minute head start really was going to make it tough to win this thing!

Masses of people, lots of nervous chatter, everyone eager to get started. The runners are arranged based on their qualifying times in “corrals”. There is a corral for each 1,000 runners – we were in corral 17, meaning over 16,000 runners had faster qualifying times than I did (Adele could have been in corral 14, but was willing to run back with me). This system is really nice –when the race starts you are surrounded by people running approximately your pace, with faster runners ahead and slower runners behind. You can start the race immediately running your pace.

The starting gun went off for the second wave, and we got across the start line in about 2-3 minutes.

My goal was to finish in under 4 hours, which would qualify me to run Boston again next year (running being one of the few things in life where it is good to get older). My target was to keep my pace just under 9 minute miles – easy to calculate my status at each mile marker, and would bring me in just under 3:56.

The first few miles are mostly downhill, and the tendency is to start off too fast. We averaged around 8:35 min/mi for the first 7 miles – I was kind of nervous that I would pay for that later, but it felt so comfortable, I told myself that the downhills were helping. After mile 7 I did consciously pull back a bit, and we ran 8:40’s and 8:50’s through mile 16. It is so hard to describe the sensation of running on a 2 lane country road that is packed continuously with enthusiastic spectators.

At mile 12 we reached Wellesley College, a famous milestone on the course. The women of Wellesley have a tradition of all gathering along the course and shrieking at the top of their lungs. You literally can hear them from ½ mile away. Many hold signs, “Kiss Me”. As we got past the college, Adele thanked me for behaving myself (why would she think I might do otherwise?). Frankly by mile 12 I was tired enough that I did not want to move the 10 feet to the side that it would have taken to kiss one of the coeds. My favorite sign: “Forget your Personal Best – let me have your Personal Worst”.

Miles 16 through 21 are the “Newton Hills”: 4 long hills, with the last one being “Heartbreak Hill”. They are not super steep, but they are quite long (1/2 to ¾ mile each) and progressively steeper. Kind of 4 Cima Serena’s back to back.

The hills come right at the point when you are running out of energy. It really accelerates the “I hit the wall” feeling. I was able to keep in the low 9’s for the first three hills, and high 9 for heartbreak.

Right after Hearbreak Hill, the course goes through Boston College. The students there were even louder than the Wellesley women – and they pushed into the street and formed a narrow tunnel to run through – for a couple hundred yards we were packed in like sardines, about 6 runners across, surrounded by screaming students. It was an incredible energy boost.

I got below 9 minute pace for the next mile, but then completely felt drained. For some reason I started obsessing about the “trick” from the bus. I really wanted to slow way down and just jog/crawl the last 4 miles, but Adele kept blathering at me to keep going. I don’t actually remember what she said, but whatever it was kept me going. I was only able to average 9:22 the next very painful 4 miles. (I did compulsively use James’ “Right Here, Right Now”, and Jim W’s “The More it Hurts, the More you Smile” – I smiled the whole 4 miles…)

The last 2 miles are a flat run through Back Bay, Boston. We turned onto Boylston street and I knew I was going to make it – although when we turned onto Boylston street, it was still 4 long city blocks to the finish. The finish line seemed far, far away. Adele claims I was incoherent for the last couple of miles, but I do not remember…

The finish line scaffolding kept getting bigger and bigger and we finally crossed the line – together the whole way. What a relief to be done, what a great blessing to share it with Adele again! She of course looked like she could have turned around and run back out to Hopkinton, and I was just thankful that we were only a couple of blocks from our hotel.

Adele and I both took ice baths, and the three of us went for a great post-race meal. Criss and I walked Adele to the train station for her train back to New Haven that evening, and then back to the hotel for a quiet evening.

Adele and I both finished in 3:56:07, an average pace of 9:01. Over a minute slower than last year, but right about where I wanted to be – qualifying at Boston for next year’s Boston Marathon.

Although Adele basically carried me the last 4 miles, I finished in 14,458th place, Adele in 14,459th. Age before beauty.

This was my 11th marathon, and my 3rd fastest time.

I started running at 52, and it took me 6 years and 8 marathons to qualify for Boston – Steve Sisson and Ruth England for some reason kept encouraging me to keep going although I was always one of the slowest in the group. They pulled me into their first Performance Project experiment and then Team Rogue – and then coach Karen Smith found the right recipe to get me over the hump and qualified. I was tolerated as the slowest of a 3:40 training “clump” and that made all the difference.

Is the Boston Marathon mystique all that it is advertised to be? Yes and then some.

Having Criss there for the weekend, and getting to run it again with my daughter seems like way more than I deserve.

Only 362 more days until Boston 2011…

Boston Report #1

The Boston Marathon 2010

by Dionn Schaffner

3:32:57. If you want to know more, read on…but make sure you are seated comfortably….you know how I can get with my race reports….

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Sometimes a race is more than just a run. It seemed to be a common theme this year in my circle. And what better stage than the 114th running of the Boston Marathon.

At the beginning of my marathon training season this year (which began about 10 days after my Triathlon season ended), I’m not even sure I had a specific training goal…as in a goal pace for the race. I just went in knowing that I would be doing a lot of running.

Last year, I had to balance my running within my Ironman training and while I successfully completed both my first Boston Marathon (with a 3-minute PR and requalifying for 2010) and my first Ironman (just over 14 hours), I knew I hadn’t given each race its all out best effort. But that wasn’t my goal that year. My goals that year were to get there, get it done and have an absolute blast while doing it. And, boy, did I!

However, Coach Maurice aptly put it, last year, I “participated”. This year…..this year was the year to “race”. That meant giving each race its own time, space and attention to train. And more importantly, Intensity on race day. He even went through my 2010 Tri Race calendar and crossed off races that I had planned on doing. I had already signed up for the Gulf Coast 70.3 as a GREAT practice for IMFL. The only problem was that it was 3 weeks after Boston. Mo said, “No way. You will spend time tri training for that race instead of focusing on Boston. And then you will run Boston with that 70.3 in the back of your head saying, ‘I can’t blow up – I have another race coming soon’ and you won’t give it your all.” Clearly, he knows me too well. Criss-Cross – off the list. Boston. Boston. Boston.

I had some early wins in the Team Rogue training process. Training runs where I kept up with Nedra and Ruth on shorter runs, staying shoulder to shoulder with Cindy Schlandt during strides, and keeping up with Chuck Duvall and Amy Anderson on some early long runs. They may not seem like big deals, but it got the wheels turning… hey..I’m hanging with kids who went 3:30 last year….could I do a 3:30 this year? And there it was…the little seed. Planted.

But seriously…3:30? That’s like 8 minute miles. For twenty-six point two miles.

That’s a long way to go at that speed for me. Especially considering my last year’s PR was 3:42… an 8:24/m pace. Shave twenty-four secs per mile…for twenty-six miles point two miles? Immediately the chant begins: BE AGGRESSIVE. B-E AGGRESSIVE. B-E A-GG-R-E-SS-I-V-E!

And with some convincing from instigator friends, the hunt began. I started training with the 3:30 pace group with Team Rogue. I had some good days and I had some bad days…but most days, I was keeping up. Mind you, it was BARELY keeping up, but keeping up nonetheless.

But as race day approached, I began to realize that it wasn’t going to be a physical challenge….it was going to be a mental one. This race was going to be more about what was going on in my head and in my heart than anything my legs were doing. I just wasn’t confident that I was physically capable of pulling it off. I’m not a runner….as Sisson so aptly puts it, I’m a dancer who runs…. I’m an accidental Boston qualifier, a poser. Sooner or later, I was going to be exposed for that…and this season might be it.

As many of you know from my FB statuses, I was needing A LOT of affirmation from you all. I held on to every positive workout I had. I looked at the pictures of my garmin that showed paces that started with 6s and 5s (albeit for super short distances – but I was needing every little bit of positivity I could find). I honestly had serious, SERIOUS doubts that I could pull it off. And yea, I was fishing for reinforcement and y’all didn’t disappoint. You kept feeding my positive vibes, telling me I could do it, reminding me of all the hard work and training I’d put in. I knew as my friends, y’all would back me on whatever crazy endeavor I said I wanted to do…and would do so exuberantly. Coach Sisson…on the other hand…he’s a straight shooter. He will tell you exactly how it is.

In fact, I was so nervous that my goal was such a stretch and that he wouldn’t agree to it, I was too scared to even talk to him about my final race plan. Everybody else had ironed and finalized their mile by mile plan with him…but I didn’t. I was way too scared. Scared he was going to say, No way. Give up that dream. It’s not going to happen. You aren’t that fast. I didn’t tell him what my plan was…until the night before.

And as I suspected, I did not get the RAH RAH, You are totally gonna crush it, pat on the back, you’ve got this thing, no worries kid, type of speech that my friends gave me. He said, “This is a big goal for you. You are going to have to have a really really good race and have lots of things go right to get it. But you know what? You have your plan, now go execute it. You’re a gamer. Somehow you bring it on game day. You have a plan and you follow it. That’s what you do.” I knew he didn’t want to completely rain on my parade, but I could tell….he had serious, serious and realistic doubts. He’s no bullshitter.

I walked away from that conversation thinking, I knew it. He doesn’t think I can do it. Why do I think I could possibly do it? But I AM a gamer. There’s definitely something different about race day conditions for me when I’m there to race and not just participate. I’m a performer…Give me a stage, or a spotlight, or some screaming fans…and baby, it’s On! I think that’s one of the reasons I love racing in my team kits. Gives me that performance-level super suit feeling. Race days aren’t every day training days. You suit up special for race day because race day performance is special.

I mulled over my talk with Sisson during our last team dinner. Listening in on everyone’s conversations around me, but circling, circling in my head. I was so nervous, I didn’t even have a beer! Can I? Should I go for it? Is it too aggressive? Will I show up on race day? Am I physically capable of pulling this off? Am I mentally capable? This is WAY out of my comfort zone here and I had lots and lots of doubts.

I leaned over to Mike, “Sisson doesn’t think I can do it.” “What?” he replied. “He doesn’t think I can go 3:30.” Mike: “Yes, you can. Trust your training. You can do it. I know it.” I mulled it over some more. Maybe Sisson is trying some of his Jedi mind tricks…throwing down a challenge, because you know I’m always down for a challenge. Some of his athletes need the Rah Rah speech, maybe I need the “Oh yea? Then prove it to me” speech.

Fortunately the rest of the evening was filled with positive messages, calls and texts from my inner circle. Supporting me, cheering me, calming me, energizing me and most of all believing in me. And by the time I went to bed….I believed in me too.

Race morning was surprisingly uneventful. I was nervous…but the good kind of nervous. The kind of nervous that you can morph into a powerful energy and use. It felt good. It felt invigorating. I felt alive. I felt ready.

We got through all of the logistics of getting ourselves to the club buses that then took us to the start. It’s kind of weird riding in a bus for what seems like over an hour and think, ok – now just run back the way you came. Team Rogue took up a lot of the first bus. It was good to have everyone around. Everyone was feeling pumped and ready to roll. We’d all been through some bad ass training together and now it was time to prove that it works.

I was one of the few Team Roguers that were in the second wave, so I hung out on the bus after all the wave 1 folks left, hit the restroom a final time and made my way to the starting line. I was in corral 17. Just three back from the start of wave 2. A good place to be….but it was crowded. 3:45 qualifying time must be popular!

I was loaded with all my nutrition, my paceband and garmin on my left wrist (auto pause off, virtual running partner on 8:01/m pace, autolap ON), my faithful timex on my right (that would keep track of chip time in case something screwy happened with my garmin and GPS..I wanted to make sure I knew what the running clock was at all times.)

Overall race plan was this:

Miles 1-5: Get in. Get going. Find your groove. Bank a little time, but not a lot.

Miles 6-16: Ten miles of exposition-type rollers. You can do these in your sleep.

Miles 17-21: Warm up is over. Time for some hill work.

Miles 22-26.2: Close. Leave Nothing on the course.

And we were off! I was a little nervous in Mile 1 because my plan called for banking 8 secs each mile for the first 8, so I could have those for the hills. So that meant 7:53/M pace. But everyone in that corral was running closer to 3:45 (8:25/M) pace. I had to weave and go around folks..and it was making me nervous. And rightfully so. Mile 1 came…8:05. Shit. Shit. Shit. I need to find some open space and find my groove. Move people. MOVE. Anything I feel before mile 5 doesn’t count for shit. I know I need 5-7 miles before I start to feel like an actual runner, but I need to get moving here.

Miles 2-4, I made up some time per my plan by going 7:42, 7:46, 7:47. Ok…I’m back on pace where I should be. Phew.

Mile 5. Oops…relaxed a little too much 8:05. Plus dealt with throwing down a Gu. That always slows me down a bit. Dang it. Get back after it D. You’ve only got bankable miles through Mile 8…then its steady MGP time. Get there.

Miles 6-7 went 7:51 and 7:53. Ok…back on pace. Good. Toss down some thermolytes.

Mile 8. Dang it. Again with the too much relaxing. F*ck! 8:08. No problem. Miles 9-16 are supposed to be steady MGP, but I feel good at just sub 8’s, so I’ll get there. Here we go:

Mile 9-16 went steadily by. I didn’t take as much notice of my surroundings as last year. I could hear all the fans yelling and screaming, but they were really just ambient noise this day. My inner dialog was cranked up to 11! My splits went: 7:58, 8:00, 8:04 (oops), 7:59, 7:56, 8:07 (battled getting my Gu down and then getting through the water stop and trying to actually get some water in my body instead of up my nose…nice, D, you look like a freakin’ rookie out here trying to get water..sheesh…how embarrassing. Focus. FOCUS!), 8:11, 8:06.

And then the real dialog began.

Bing, BING, Bing. Attention. Attention. May I have your attention please. We are now entering the hill phase of this workout. Please fasten your seatbelts and put your tray tables in their full upright and locked position. The warm up is officially over. Please prepare to WORK.

Ok, D. Here we go. We have a 10-mile run workout that starts now. 5 miles of hills. 5 miles of closing. You are a little bit behind pace, but not too much. We have one goal at this point. Get through the hills and give yourself a chance to close. That’s it. You don’t have to crush them, just do them. All we need is a chance to close. Just the opportunity. You are a closer. That’s what you do. You close. We just need to get in a position to give ourselves a chance to do what we do best. That’s it. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just a chance. Let’s do this thing.

Mile 17 – 8:21 (shit. 10 seconds slower than what I wanted. C’mon D.)

Mile 18 – 8:15 (better. Plan said 8:16. Good)

Mile 19 – 8:01 (plan was 8:05. Getting close)

Mile 20 – 8:21 (plan was 8:15. Still having trouble navigating water stops. Dang it. I’m running with a damn bottle next year. F*ck it.)

Mile 21 – 8:32 Heartbreak Hill. Even though I was passing people right and left, my plan said 8:21. Dang it.

Bing, BING, Bing. Attention. Attention. May I have your attention please. You are now leaving the hill phase of this workout. Congratulations. Now go kick some ass.

I came out of the hills feeling good. Yea, my quads were a little tight, but my spirit was awesome. I looked around and saw the agony and defeat on some other runners faces and thought, not me. Not this day. I’m fixin to close the bad boy out right here. Let’s do this thing. WOO HOO!

I had fire and I was ready to go. I’d lost a little time in the hills and sub 3:30 was probably out. But I still felt very confident about 3:30:59. I was ready to get back to 7:50s and lower. I’m a closer. That’s what I do. And now it was time to close.

But then I felt it. That little f*cking tingling whisper in the back of the calf. What? WHAT? You have got to be kidding me! I take a quick glance down at my race belt. Nope…didn’t miss taking any nutrition or thermolytes along the way. I drank TONS of water (even inhaled some through my nose for good measure). My belly wasn’t sloshing or anything. WHY? WHY? I do NOT have time for CRAMPS!!

I started into the emergency stash of Thermolytes….please lord let these get there in time. I switched to Gatorade at the water stops. But to no avail…the tingling was getting stronger and more frequent.

God Dammit! I had just been watching a special on Apollo 13 the earlier in the week and I felt like that command center. Ok, we’ve had an explosion with our main thrusters…we need to switch to auxiliary power systems to guide the ship back safely. Shut down the calves STAT! (I knew Mike would cringe at that word and I smirked through the pain). Re-route all systems. GO GO GO!! We only have a few seconds to shut those down before they explode and crank up the other systems so we don’t lose time. Move it, people. MOVE IT!

So instead of using my calves, I switched to running, one-legged cycling drill style…..all hip flexor, no calf, no foot. I was flat footed and loud as I kept pounding the pavement. I could hear what Amy’s response would’ve been (“quiet feet Dionn, quiet feet!) …but I had no choice. I did not, could not stop for cramps.

Miles 22 and 23 went 8:11 and 8:18 as I battled, willed, begged, pleaded, emplored by calves to not cramp up. Please, please, please. I just need a few more miles. You can do this. Stay with me. Stay with me!! Ugh. I was cramping even earlier than last year. Last year hit me at mile 24 and barely made it those last two miles…now I’ve got to keep it together for four????? F*CK!

Going into mile 24, I felt like I’d mastered my no calf/no foot running style and started to pick up the pace. Little circles with the hip flexor. Circle, circle, circle. Just picking up the foot. And putting it back down. Pick it up. Put it down. 8:05. Better. But I think we’ve missed our window of landing on the moon. Now our job is to return everyone home safely to Earth. Pick it up, put it down. If we have the wrong entry trajectory, we will simply burn up entering Earth’s atmosphere. We need to focus on getting in and getting in safely. No hot dogging. Mile 25 – 8:06.

I was definitely bummed as I didn’t get my chance to close….and I was really, really ready to hammer it home. I said to hell with it, we’ve got 1.2 to go…let’s push it just a little bit more. I pushed and cramped and pushed and cramped my way down to 8:00. I knew I was resembling those video clips of runners hobbling down the final stretch…dragging a cramped and locked appendage towards that finish line. The last 200 meters or so I limped, hobbled, ran at a 7:50 pace. Crossed the finish line, clicked my watch and could barely read the 3:32:xx. Damn it. So close. So. Close.

I hobbled through the finishing chute and each time I stopped to pick up whatever goody they were handing out (water, blanket, goodie bag, medal, dry clothes bag), snipers shot me in the back of my legs and full throttle cramps seized my calves. It took me a few moments to get going each time but I managed.

Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. I missed it. GRRRRR!!!! Tears welled up in my eyes. Last year I cried for entirely different reasons. This time it was from disappointment. And now I’m crying in the finishers shoot. Medical asked me if I needed help. I said No. I can’t believe I couldn’t pull together 2 minutes…..2 freakin little minutes over the course of 3 and a half hours! Seriously, D…how lame is that! DAMMIT! I mean we are talking, what, 3 seconds of every minute. There…in just that long to think that statement, I could’ve run faster and made 3:30. GRRRRRR!!! UGH! All that hard work…and to miss it, by two minutes. Dammit.

But then my iPhone started pinging and vibrating. Text message after text message. Facebook alert after Facebook alert started rolling in.

“You did it!”

“Way to rock it!”

“Helluva PR!”

“I’m so proud of you!!”

“You are my inspiration!”

And I was like…hey, wait a minute….yea…maybe it wasn’t such a bad race afterall. I DID take 10 minutes off my time from last year. I did requalify. I posted a quick status on FB to which more responses came pouring in. And with each one, I began to feel better and better about the race. As I continued the couple blocks walk through the finish line and back to the hotel, I felt better and better with each step. (Although my calves still felt like shit). And by the time I got to my room and through a quick shower, I was excited.

I joined the rest of the team in the bar, got HUGE hugs and congrats from my teammates. And also a very heartfelt hug and “I am so proud of you” from Coach Sisson. Who honestly stated, “I didn’t think you could do it. I wasn’t sure if you had it in you…here (pointing to my heart), but you did. And you did it! Now we know what’s possible…when you believe. And now you believe it. And I believe it too.”

A few moments later I got a text from Coach Maurice: “You are a BAD ASS!! Welcome to racing! You know how to do it!!” To which I responded, “Was that enough race intensity to start the season?” “You put a big “!” after Intensity.”

We continued to celebrate into the late night, rehashing our journeys mile by mile and step by step. Everyone had personal struggles, both physically and mentally, that they had to overcome to get to the starting line and down to the finish. There were cheers and tears, laughter and libations as we toasted well into the night.

It’s been a fantastic journey…one I couldn’t have done without so many of you. My sincerest thanks to my family for their unwavering commitment and putting up with my crazy schedule, my friends for your words of encouragement and support, my teammates for dragging me around runs and urging me to test my limits, my coaches for their wisdom, plans, critiques and comments. This 3:32 is every bit yours as it is mine…for without you…all of you….it would not be.

And now..get ready, people. I’ve got a taste of racing…and guess what… I LIKE IT! I’m going sub-3:30 next year. Boston 2011. Who’s in?!?!?!?

We’re Famous!

Team Rogue Elite’s partnership with Under Armour has been officially announced on FloTrack – check it out!

Team Rogue Elite

TeamROGUE Elite is running in the Capitol 10K Road Race.

AUSTIN, TEXAS – Rogue Running has a new elite team sponsored by Under Armour. TeamROGUE Elite will run its first major race in Austin at the Capitol 10K on Sunday, April 11. The team aspires to finish first, second and third place in the men’s race and win the women’s race. Team member, Darren Brown, is the Capitol 10K defending champion.

“Defending my title is definitely the goal this weekend,” said Darren Brown, “but doing it against teammates with the footspeed of Kyle and Adam, aerobic strength of Joe, and natural talent of Erik is going to take me being a much tougher and more versatile runner.”
TeamROGUE Elite is composed of eight post collegiate runners; Darren Brown, Kara June, Allison Rae Macsas, Kyle Miller, Adam Perkins, Dacia Perkins, Erik Stanley and Joe Thorne. Six of the eight members will be competing in the Capital 10K Road Race. The team is coached by Steve Sisson, Women’s Distance Coach for the University of Texas at Austin.

TeamROGUE recently secured a three-year sponsorship with its official outfitter, Under Armour. In addition to the sponsorship, the team is working with Under Armour as wear-testers and product consultants for its new running shoe line.

TeamROGUE Elite recently obtained nonprofit status. Local sponsors are still needed to donate funds for food and nutrition, offer sports massage services, provide part-time jobs to the athletes and be mentors to guide their post-running careers. Donations are accepted through TeamROGUE’s partnership with Austin Community Foundation at http://www.austincf.org.

Each member of TeamROGUE Elite will participate in community events to raise awareness about the benefits of running. Currently, team members conduct free seminars and core classes for the public. This summer they will direct camps for middle and high school students interested in advancing their running careers.

“We are investing time, money and passionate sacrifice to allow these athletes an opportunity to continue their athletics careers,” said Steve Sisson. “I want to be sure each individual is worthy of the community’s efforts.”

TeamROGUE Elite is a non-profit post collegiate, training and support group for middle and distance athletes who possess the talent and potential to be world class, but not the resources. The founding mission is to provide these missing resources to those athletes, giving them the opportunity to reach their highest potential.

Rogue Running is the leading, integrated training and running equipment provider in Austin whose mission is to create an authentic community of athletes discovering a path to physical, mental and spiritual potential.

Under Armour® (NYSE: UA) is a leading developer, marketer, and distributor of branded performance apparel, footwear, and accessories. The brand’s moisture-wicking synthetic fabrications are engineered in many different designs and styles for wear in nearly every climate to provide a performance alternative to traditional natural fiber products. The Company’s products are sold worldwide and worn by athletes at all levels, from youth to professional, on playing fields around the globe. The Under Armour global headquarters is in Baltimore, Maryland, with European headquarters in Amsterdam’s Olympic Stadium, and additional offices in Denver, Hong Kong, Toronto, and Guangzhou, China. For further information, please visit the Company’s website at http://www.underarmour.com.

Joe Thorne in the Statesman!

According to the Statesman (and we agree), “Thorne is a genuine threat in the Capitol 10K.”

Read it here!

A Rogue in Runners World!

You may or may not know about the elite Team Rogue that has recently been formed. The group is comprised of post-collegiate runners who are all aiming to qualify for the 2012 Olympic Trials in their respective events, and ultimately head to the Olympics themselves.

Two of these runners, Adam Perkins and Kyle Miller, headed to Boston last weekend for the Reebok Boston Indoor Games where Bernard Lagat was attempting to set a new American record in the indoor 5000m. Adam and Kyle were pacers for this event, and did their job perfectly – Bernard Lagat lowered the American indoor 5000m record to 13:11.50.

Adam came back shortly after to pace the mile and was then interviewed by Runners World – check out this substantial article that they published on Adam and the fine art of pacing!

Running and beer

Two of my favorite things, and likely yours as well!

Lucky for all of us, there is plenty of free beer at Rogue Equipment tonight, and plenty of running…stuff.

Whether you want running apparel (we’ve got it all!), running inspiration (Russ Secker is signing copies of his own Running Across Countries), running commitment (the Team Rogue info session is happening), running prizes (it’s a costume contest!) or running talk (there’ll be a lot of runners here), we have it!

We even have justification for the beer-drinking, in the form of this (maybe not so credible, but ignore that) article:

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-491236/A-pint-beer-better-workout-water-say-scientists.html

See you tonight!

Rogue Equipment
500 San Marcos Street
Austin, TX 78702
Happy Hour: 6pm-??