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Fri, Nov 20, 2009 2:01 pm
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Experience the Boston Marathon

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According to an article published April 6 in “Runner’s World” magazine, only 10 percent of Americans who complete a marathon each year meet the strict age and gender graded qualifying standards set by the Boston Marathon race committee.

On Monday, approximately 23,000 runners who registered before the field size limit was reached in February made their way past about one million fans lining all 26 miles, 385 yards in the 113th edition of the world’s oldest annual marathon.

At 22-years-old, it was my first trek from Hopkinton to Boylston Street, and despite a disastrous last 10 miles, the three-day experience justified for me why qualifying to run this unforgiving course and passing all of its historic landmarks is a goal for most marathoners.

I earned my qualifying time of 3 hours and 2 minutes at the Mount Desert Island Marathon in October 2008, and registered online for Boston the next day in hopes of redeeming myself from a disappointing marathon debut. I traveled down in a rental van to a hotel in Waltham, Mass., Saturday afternoon with three runners from Nova Scotia that have run the race nearly 40 times combined.

Sunday morning we awoke early to get to the pre-race expo held at the Hynes Convention Center in downtown Boston before the crowds built too much. With 23,000 runners along with their families and friends converging on the auditorium over 3 days, the set-up for number and t-shirt pick-up was remarkably efficient.

That evening we returned to the city for a pasta dinner in the City Hall parking garage. There was no shortage of food, the line moved briskly, and there was even a circus act to entertain and let us out of the wind for a few minutes as we walked through the tent.

On Monday morning, my 4:30 a.m. alarm went off, and we were out the door of the hotel headed to the Alewife subway station by 5:30. The first train of about 25 school busses idling at Boston Common was filled before 6:00. As they departed for the hour-long drive to Hopkinton, another fleet of empty ones rolled in to replace them.

Athlete’s Village in Hopkinton is an athletic field complex surrounded by hundreds of Porta-Potties, and even longer lines of runners waiting to use them. As the first of two waves of participants walked down the road nearly a mile to our assigned corral based on qualifying times, many sought out pleasant locals that didn’t mind the side of their house being temporarily turned into a urinal.

I waited in the third corral of 1000 runners as a military flyover, and a motivational address by former Boston Marathon champion Uta Pippig commenced before the 10 a.m. start. The elite women and wheelchair competitors had been given an advanced start 30 minutes earlier. The first wave was led by some of the world’s elite male marathoners, including 2008 U.S. Olympic Trials marathon winner Ryan Hall, who finished third on Monday.

I slapped the outstretched hand of a little kid in a Red Sox hat as we bounded down the steep decline of the opening miles and then focused to avoid tripping over people on all sides of me.

By the 11-mile point the crowd had dissipated enough to enjoy some personal space. The dull roar of the famous Wellesley College “Scream Tunnel” could be heard from a mile away and built to a deafening pitch as we approached. I scanned the crowd of girls on the right side of the road and quickly dashed to the barrier to give one a kiss.

My Wellesley girl’s inspiration kept me on pace for a few more miles and through the halfway point in 1 hour and 26 minutes, but I knew something wasn’t right when the same sensation in my legs that I should have started to feel with three miles to go crept in seven miles early. That’s the unpredictable part of punishing your body systems for that long though.

I lumbered over the series of four long, gradual hills leading up to the 20-mile mark that was narrowed by thoroughly intoxicated Boston College undergrads. The last and most painful rise is appropriately nicknamed “Heartbreak Hill.”

For one day a year, the giant Citgo sign behind Fenway Park’s Green Monster is appreciated more by the distance running community than baseball fans, as it marks the one-mile-to-go point.

Making the final left turn onto Boylston Street with the blue finish line banner in sight, the roaring crowd amplified by towering skyscrapers give even the most spent runner an extra push to get across the finish line.

The next few days will require frequent use of the elevator and walking down stairs backwards, but I’m already anxious to make a return run to Boston in 2010.

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