Boston Part 2: The Journey to the Finish Line

Holy shit it's hot. That's the first thought I had when I stepped off the bus into the sunshine to head to the starting corrals. I tried telling myself I was calm and collected, but when Jenna and I got to the security checkpoint I blurted "OMG MY FUEL!!" I had left all of my fuel on the bus (not something a calm and collected person does). She graciously offered to go back with me to get it, and by the time we got back, we were the two very. last. people. to go into the corrals. Of the entire Boston Marathon. We said we'd look out for each other and went off to get in our own corrals with no time to spare. Right as I walked up to my overflow section we were off.

When I start running my nerves usually dissipate pretty fast. It's like my mind says "Oh yes, this. I love this. I know this. I am this." I started off nice and slow and was absorbing everything around me. I don't usually analyze marathon courses before I run them (except for elevation), so I didn't really know that the course goes through some quaint New England towns on the way into Boston until late in my training. The other Abbott World Marathon Majors are very urban. This was delightful and intimate...like a 4th of July parade with families lining the streets, kids with wagons handing out treats, American flags waving. I heard the course was deceivingly hard because of the downhills (16 miles of them within the 26.2). Ever since running Big Sur I've never been too worked up over hills, but I admit I felt that steep decline immediately and I was glad my plan was to take it easy.

Around the 8K mark, I distinctly remember thinking I felt like I normally do much farther into a run, like 16 miles or so, with respect to feeling like I needed to conserve energy. So I made a concerted effort to stop at every single water stop, which was every mile, to put water on my head and keep cool. I found a woman holding out a baggie of ice, and I went over to her and thanked her profusely and proceeded to put it in my sports bra (tip for the ladies - you can thank me on your next hot long run). The crowds through the towns were amazing. Not in volume per se - though there were always a lot of people - but in their attitude and enthusiasm. Almost everyone was handing out something. Oranges, water, Gatorade, candy, pretzels, you name it. There were thousands of little hands to high five and people were constantly cheering your name. Because the spectators were so close, they were looking you in the eye when they cheered - like they were there to specifically support you at that minute. I heard several versions of "Summah, lookin good sweethaaaaht" with corresponding fist pumps. I was so grateful for every single one.

I was still maintaining my slow and steady pace (10-10:15 not including my stops) through the half and was getting excited because I was feeling pretty good and managing to keep any heat related nausea away. This was a big change in the race for me. With fear of the heat waning, I was really starting to think about the experience, and my journey with all the majors, and my emotions started really kicking into gear. I am running the Boston Marathon! It's already over half way done, I really need to slow down more and enjoy! I am really going to finish all the majors today! I can't wait to see my family! I saw a guy waving a huge Union Jack flag and I started thinking about the London Marathon in 2014. My parents were supposed to be there with us. But my dad, who is English, became very ill and underwent heart surgery just before we left. There were complications after we were gone, and unbeknownst to me at the time, he was in a coma during that race. I knew something was wrong by the abbreviated texts I was getting from my sister and mom. I ran that race with my heart filled with sadness and fear. Sadness that he wasn't there to see me finish among all the huge Union Jacks that line the last quarter mile and fear that he had died, and they didn't want to tell me until after the race. But today, he was here. Waiting for me at the finish in Boston. My heart swelled with gratitude and tears started flowing down my cheeks.

I had a bit of a distraction after this point, when my old water bottle started leaking. I had to stop and have a volunteer help me try and get the lid on tight enough (the threading had worn down from years of use). I only had one packet of powder left for 12 more miles. Yikes. But this awesome guy spent about 5 minutes with me testing it out and making sure I was good to go. And off I went, with a big perk in mental energy because I was coming up on where my husband,, sister and niece were waiting.

The hubs

One of my nieces

Spotting family members is always so exciting and it's even more fun when your sister is an excitable person anyway. I saw them immediately and started jumping up and down. I went over to talk to them for a couple minutes and give sweaty hugs. They told me to look for them again around heartbreak hill, and wished me luck for the next few miles.

I enjoyed the course some more: slapping hands, taking a long stem rose, and taking advantage of hoses that had been set up. I was feeling pretty great all things considered (no surprise twangs of pain from racing 7 weeks prior, and no nausea at all from the sun). I was entering the "Newton Hills" capped by Heartbreak at mile 21, so often mentioned in Boston Marathon discourse. Truth be told....I had no problems at all with these hills. They really were not that bad. Perhaps that's because I was not attempting to run at my normal pace...but I got through them with ease and saw my family again. This time, I was a soppy mess, It was a downhill stretch to the finish 5 miles ahead and I felt fine. It was all sinking in. This was the hour. Years of training. Years of sacrifice. Down to this hour.

I ran those miles half skipping with joy and half slumped over wiping tears away. The last mile I had my hands up in the air, waving at the crowds which were now huge through the streets in Boston. The cheers became a steady roar and I saw the turn to Boylston Street ahead of me. I am not positive, but I feel pretty certain I was screaming with excitement from the time I saw the finish line up ahead until I crossed it. I ran right through and saw my parents, other niece and kids waiting for me just past the finish line. I ran right up to them before getting my medal or anything. My mom was crying, my kids and niece were screaming and my dad was laughing and generally shaking his head.

Unfiltered emotion after crossing the finish and running into the arms of my family

What a moment. I've crossed many finish lines before, but there was really nothing like this day. Raising money for charity and having so many people support me along the way, having my family all come to Boston, finishing all six majors. There isn't any combination of black letters I can compile that would accurately convey what that felt like.

When I was interviewed for the Lansing State Journal article I mentioned in my first Boston post I was telling the journalist, Dawn, how I really wanted to show my girls what it was like to set big goals. And she added "and achieve them." It caught me off guard then and made me kind of smile. I hadn't really thought about that part. Sometimes you set big goals and you fall short. That's ok. There are lessons in those experiences too. But not this day. This was a day of happy endings. And I hope that story line helps them dream their own big dreams some day.

My crew. And all my World Marathon Major medals. And pizza. And beer.