April 1986: Boston
I never knew what it would take to run a marathon. Shoot, I didn't have a clue what a marathon was that fateful day when my teacher said "I'm running the Boston Marathon" and of course I replied "Hey, can I run with you?" That would forever change my running career.
I had always been a runner, but never considered the marathon. I preferred to run the shorter races like the 5k. It had been a long year for me and I needed a pick me up. Earlier in the year I had been asked to try out of the Junior Olympics. I had qualified for the 800 meter race, but needed to run another race to actually make the team. I had joined the track team at my high school to train for the race, but never could regain my fast times. My dream of running in the Olympics or even the junior Olympics were tarnished with my inability to motivate myself to run.
Once I hit high school, I wanted to play baseball, football or basketball. No sane person wanted to run. The days I would get up and go out for a run were over. Running became second nature. Track and Field was not a glorious sport, so I would not participate. Little did I know that I would run into this same obstacle in college.
So, after a disappointing spring track season, I decided (with one weeks notice) that I was going to run the marathon. "How many miles is that?" I had asked my teacher. I couldn't believe it when he replied "26.2 miles". To this day, I don't think I knew what 26.2 miles was, but I had determination and a goal that had to be accomplished. Somehow I had thought that this would make up for the laziness which had been my downfall in the Junior Olympics.
So, after talking with my teacher I went out for a run. It didn't seem long, but I ended up running five miles. Wow, I felt good, refreshed and ready to conquer the world. Shoot, what was another 20 or so miles. This was going to be easy.
Later that day, I decided that I needed more miles so I ran another three miles. My legs didn't burn and I felt like a million bucks. During that run, I reflected back to the fall and again my inability to run my potential. I had joined the cross country team, because I didn't make the varsity football team. I wanted to letter and it seemed that cross country would be the easiest way to do it.
I ran pretty good, but never as good as I could have. When the team raced , only the top five people on our team would score points for the team. I never scored a point for my team until the very last race. Of course, it had been the most important race of the year and I placed fourth, breaking all kind of personal bests. I think I ran my best 5k time at 17:10. So, I knew I had the ability, but not the desire.
The second day after announcing I was to run the Boston Marathon, my legs were sore from the day before. The stiffness had been expected, but the rash between the legs was not. Ouch, it hurt pretty bad. I wanted to take a knife to the pain. So, I decided to rest. One of my friends gave me some cream that guaranteed to help. It did.
On the third day, I ran four miles. It felt good, but my legs were tiring.
The fourth day I rested.
Two days before the race, I ran another six miles. It hurt. I didn't know what the heck to do. I couldn't back down, but it was the first time I thought my body was going to collapse. I still wanted to run the race just to prove I could do it.
The day before the race, I ran two miles and it felt great. I pronounced to everyone that would listen - "I am ready to conquer the marathon". Of course, everyone was my girlfriend and her friend who barely gave me a few claps. I guess no one really understood the meaning of what I was going to attempt. Shoot, I didn't know what to expect.
I remember the morning of the race. I sat in the cafeteria and ate my breakfast of banana, yogurt, apples and two glasses of skim milk. My teacher had suggested that I bring along an extra banana or two for the road. I had agreed.
Another thing I remember that day , a friend of mine saying to me "You know who has a crush on you?" I thought it odd for someone to say something like that on the day of a big race, but I was only seventeen and that kind of stuff really did interest me. "Who?" He mentioned the name and I could believe it. She had been so popular and I the class clown didn't seem to be worthy. I have to admit that it was a little boost to my ego and also my motivation. Don't get me wrong, I was still happy with my girlfriend, but for someone else to be interested, now that was something to hear on the day of my big race.
I saw her as my teacher and I left for the race. She smiled, and I returned with a big dorky grin. I guess, being the class clown, I could even do anything simple. We had about a three hour dive, so I didn't have time to chat.
There was nothing much said in the car. My teacher had trained for this race for a long time and I didn't want to disrespect him by goofing off, even though I didn't feel like doing anything. I was bored. To my embarrassment, I didn't even know the course. Darn, I didn't even know where we were going. To this day, I don't know how the heck I ran this monster of a race.
We arrived in hopkinton and parked some distance from the starting line. I could not believe how many people were lining up. I think we got there an hour before race time. It was far from being a perfect day. It was overcast with a high possibility of rain. I wore my old sweats, cheesy shorts and a T-shirt. I removed the sweats and my jacket. It was cold and wet. Not a perfect day for running. My teacher asked me "Do you have everything?" I looked around, felt my pockets and nothing had been forgotten. "Nope". Now, this was my first mistake.
Because I didn't have any pockets, I couldn't carry anything. No money, no id no candy bars, nothing. The only thing I had for the marathon was my T-shirt, my shorts, socks and black Nike shoes. I also had a very classy smiley face ring around my pinky finger. I hated wearing rings, but it had been given to me by my girlfriend as a token of good luck. I needed all the luck in the world.
We mulled around the start line, talking with the runners and overall feeling pretty good about ourselves. I noticed a few things that day, but one of the things that stuck out "Why don't we have numbers?" My teacher didn't want to get into it all, but he said that we had not qualified to run the race so we were unofficial. "Oh" I said. It didn't really bother me at the time. (Nowadays, I disagree with jumping in a running a race - Bandits as they are called are not real runners, but I did't know what I know now).
I remember lining up for the race and we must have been very close to the back of the pack, because all I could see were thousands of head in front of me. Wow, what I sight it was. People were going through all their weird rituals to get psyched up and I just observed. It was the coolest feeling in the world. I felt apart of something big. I didn't have a number on my back, but neither did most people in the back of the pack. We were a bunch of rogue runners, willing to break the mold. We were about to embark on a journey that very few people would ever experience.
The gun sounded and we were off, but wait a minute I wasn't moving. I could see in front of me all the bobbing heads, but my feet did not move an inch. What gives, I had said, but when there are 15,000 runners, it may take awhile to get to the start line. It did. It took me around 5 minutes to get to the beginning of the race. I came so unprepared, that I didn't even have a watch. My teacher had his watch and he started it as we crossed the line.
The first mile seemed like it went by in two minutes. We laughed, we talked, we listened and observed all the crowd and runners. It is something I remember to this day. I can remember seeing all these runners dash to the side of the road and begin to pee. I remember the different runners and their styles. It was the best mile I have ever run, not in speed, but in the overall picture.
The second mile went by just as fast. It seemed that the miles were easily going one by one. I crossed the six mile mark and remarked to my teacher "Well, this is virgin territory, I've never run this distance, but I feel great".
I felt is a little when I hit the tenth mile, but the atmosphere couldn't have been any more motivating. People shouting on the sides, music blaring from nearby businesses. It was the ultimate. Utopia.
When we crossed the thirteenth mile, something happened that would affect the rest of the race. We heard as we ran past a spectator, the winner of the race. I couldn't believe it, we were only halfway and someone was already winning the race. Now that is dejecting.
It went all downhill from there. It didn't start to crumble until mile 16. I obviously wasn't in the shape of my teacher, so I motioned for him to leave me behind. He hesitated, but said "OK, I will meet you at the finish line".
I had never felt so lonely. Again, I had no idea what to do. I had to finish the race, because he was my ride home, but my legs were stone and my breath labored. I hurt like I'd never hurt before. The miles were getting longer and longer.
I do remember on mile 18 (before heartbreak hill) stopping for the first time (I only stopped twice believe it or not). A young man cam up to me and started yelling at me. "C'mon you loser you came this far, don't stop now. You only have a few miles to go. Pick it up." I was modified. This person was yelling at me like a drill sergeant. I had no choice but to pick it up and continue running. I yelled back at him "Thank you" and it was too late, he had picked on his next victim.
People who cared about back of the packers. Very cool I had thought. That gave me the boost to make it another two miles. Once I hit heartbreak hill, I needed to stop again. These people were a little nicer, but still shouted encouragement. I needed to pick it up again. Darn these good people, didn't they know I was tired.
So, usually people hit the wall at 20miles. I had hit three or four wall by the time I hit 20miles, but something came over me at this point in the race. I saw all these runners in pain and people cheering us and I just put it into full force and ran like it was the beginning of the race.
I ran pretty strong the rest of the race. Well, as strong as someone could run having never run past six miles. It hurt bad, but in a way it felt so good. I remember coming around the corner to what I had heard was the finish line. It was pretty amazing to hear the roar of the crowd. We were not winning the race, but people were shouting as if we were the fastest ones in the bunch. I came around the corner and saw the finish line. What a sigh of relief I let out. I could almost hear my legs cry in relief.
I ran strong across the finish line, something I had done so many times in my life, but it felt very strange. I stumbled as someone shoved a piece of paper in my hand. Another person made me drink something very close to pure sugar water. It didn't quench my thirst and I could not drink it. I didn't know it at the time, but it was my certificate (not a legal finisher, but one that did finish). My legs felt like Jell-O and my head spun faster and faster. It hit me that I was in Boston, didn't know where my teacher was, nor did I have any money. My stomach growled for food. I was hungry. Someone approached me "Are you all right?" I didn't know how to answer. Shoot, I didn't know if I could talk. It seemed that I was drunk. The lady didn't wait for my answer "OK, come with me" and she put my arm around her shoulder. Another person did the same for the opposite shoulder and the next thing I saw was the rescue tent.
I did look at the time and noticed that I had finished in about 4 hours and 20 minutes. It might have been a little faster than that as it took so long to get to the finish line, but the time was farthest from my mind at this point.
The volunteers assisted me to a nearby cot and left me laying there. All I could think of was food and how I was going to get home. A nurse approached me and knelt down to talk with me. She put her hand on my head and did something with my arm. "How are you feeling sir?" I did not have the strength to talk. I did muscle out a little "I'm kinda hungry". I think she smiled at me , but now that I look back, I doubt she had been amused. She left after checking on me.
I began to dose off, but awoke abruptly with a sharp pain in my backside. "Ouch". The nurse had returned. "Sorry, sir, but we need to check your temperature" she said. My strength must have had a burst of energy "How about the mouth?" She didn't reply. After the pain subsided and I calmed down she returned with her diagnosis. "You are severely dehydrated. You will need to drink a lot of water before we let you go." Yikes, I thought. "How long will it take for me to rehydrate?" She looked unsympathetic "Up to you. Usually 30-40 minutes"
I sat sipping water and pure sugar water. I'm not sure why Gatorade or something like it wasn't on tap. I heard someone say that the last bus to hopkinton (the start of the race where our car had been parked almost 5 hours ago). Darn, I didn't know where my teacher had ran off to and I was sure to be stuck in Boston. It didn't look good.
I dosed off a few times and when I finally felt better, an hour had passed. Then just in-front of me , my teacher appeared. "Holy crap, there is a god" I belted out. We had missed the final bus and needed to find a way back to Hopkinton. The teacher had finished a half-hour before me and he had mentioned that he waited at the start line, but did not see me finish. We did get a chuckle over the situation.
"Hey, you want to go get a massage?" he had said "We can worry about the car after we get relaxed
We went and had our massages and never in the world did something feel so good. Wow, after running 26.2 miles, I felt wonderful. We finished up our relaxation phase and headed out to find our way back to the start line.
We stood in Boston on the side of the street to the on ramp of the Mass Pike (almost a direct shot highway to the startline). We waited a for what seemed eternity, but someone did pull over. He asked us if we had just run the marathon and of course we told him our stories. He invited us in and actually drove us to our car. I don't remember where he was going, but I know it wasn't hopkinton. It is that kind of kindness you see on Marathon Monday in Boston.
The three hour drive back to our school seemed to take forever, but we didn't say but three or four words. We were both soaking in the high that the run had given us. We stopped at McDonalds a mere twenty minutes from our homes. I had ordered a huge amount of food and remember eating every last bit of it. (Something like two big macs, quarter pounder, three French fries, two shakes and an apple pie)
I went to bed that night feeling like I could rule the world and run another one the next day.
When I woke up the next day, I could not have felt better mentally, but physically? I could barely get out of bed. My legs were so tight that it took me 15 minutes to get out of bed and another 20 minutes to put clothes on. My stomach, even after eating way too much the night before, was empty. I needed some food and fast. I had classes in a few hours, but decided to walk down to the country store.
Down the hill and across the street I went to get my ever tasty box of donuts and gallon of skim milk.
When I finally weighed myself on that day following my miracle run, the scale had said I lost 18 pounds. Seemed to be impossible, but I did lose a lot of weight. Mostly water, I think.
One of my last thoughts on this whole magical day was going to our assembly hall and in front of the whole school the headmaster said "Yesterday was a special day for two of our own. One teacher and one student went to Boston in search of running a marathon. Today, they are hear to tell everyone they did it."
He asked us both how we felt. I don't remember what my teacher said, but I'm sure he referred to how tired he was.
I said "The biggest runners high I have ever had, probably the greatest accomplishment of my life"
Everyone cheered for us and for a day we were kings of the world.
I will never have another experience like that day. I plan on running another Marathon and hope to get the same feeling as I did on that Monday Morning in April of 1986.