Have You Ever Run Boston?

This is the most common question that is asked when someone finds out that you are a runner. For years, I have always answered that I have never had the desire to.

Three of the guys I train with, Mike Withrow, Alex Campbell and John Tolerton, qualified for next years race. Since then, Mike and Alex have both started talking to me about qualifying. Being a 57 year old “has been”, my qualifying time is 3:35:00, and I have always said that I could qualify for Boston in a training run. Three weeks ago, a few days after their 100 milers, Mike gave me the best reason anyone has ever used to convince me to run. He said, “You grew up running and love the history of the sport. The Boston Marathon should be something that you should want to do.” That actually got me thinking, which meant looking at what marathon would fit into my schedule. Melissa and I were flying back to Pittsburgh on Thursday, May 18 to visit family and friends. Sunday, May 21, two hours from Pittsburgh, Cleveland Marathon. When packing for the trip, I packed racing shoes, singlet and shorts, just in case I decided to run Cleveland.

When we arrived in Pittsburgh, we went straight to visit the redhead’s mother who is rehabbing from a stroke. After spending the morning there and a quick trip to see the Riverhounds Academy coaches, we spent the evening at Melissa’s sister’s house. A quick 5 miles (I forgot what it is like to run up a hill) a few beers after dinner and then sleep on an air mattress. I woke at about 2:30 and could not move. The air mattress had a hole and lost most of the air, after fighting to get out to go to the bathroom, I returned and could not sleep the rest of the night.

Friday morning, Melissa and her dad went to visit with her mom. I hung out and watched tv until the Big Cat picked me up in the afternoon. By 4:00, we cracked our first beers. Then as each person arrived, the obligatory beer with each friend. Enough said, the evening ended at 12:30. I slept on a Lazy-Boy chair in the Big Cat’s basement.

Saturday morning, the Big Cat dropped me off at my brother, Mike’s house, so I could borrow his car to drive to Cleveland. Before I left for Ohio, I had lunch with my son, Angelo. Got in the car, drove 2+ hour and picked up my race packet at the convention center in Cleveland. Then drove 10 minutes to Lakewood to meet my daughter, Emma (Chicago resident, drove 4 hours to watch me run) for dinner. After dinner, Emma went to stay with her college roommate and I checked into the Days Inn, Lakewood (shit hole is too nice of a term for the hotel). However; Saturday was a great day, I got to see both of my children!

Sunday morning the alarm goes off at 4:00. Get up, eat a banana, four packs of instant oatmeal and some apple sauce. Take a shower, leave the hotel at 5:15 and park 400 meters from the start. Take a walk to find out where everything is, especially the porta-potties. At 6:45, after extensive stretching, putting on my Nike Alphafly Next%s, my South Carolina BOA shorts and my new Nof1 singlet, I headed to the starting line. My goal was to qualify for Boston, all I needed to run was 3:35, so I assigned myself to corral B, we walked into the starting area and I promptly found the 3;30 pacer and group. National anthem, a moment of silence for Cleveland great, Jim Brown and then at 7:00, the gun goes off. 1200+ marathoners and almost 3000 half marathoners take off on a tour of Cleveland. In a move that is totally out of character for me, I DID NOT START MY WATCH! I left it on the analog face with the time of day. About 18 second later, I cross the start line.

I’m with the 3:30 pace group, we go through the first mile and the pacer let everyone know it was a 7:51 mile. It felt weird being in a road race, running with no effort. Anyway, three or four minutes later, I realized that I was about 10 seconds ahead of the pace group. I decided that I wasn’t going to slow down to get back with the group, so this race was going to be enjoyed, and if the 3:30 group caught me, then I would have to run with them for a “BQ”. Well, between miles 8 and 9, I caught up (and passed) the 3:20 pace group. Not having run a marathon for 33 years, not having a stopwatch and no clocks on the course, I had no idea how fast (or slow) I was running. I just keep running at a comfortable pace with no real effort, looking for my daughter, Emma, who was supposed to be somewhere on the course.

At just before 13 miles, the marathoners and half marathoners split, that’s where I saw Emma cheering and taking a few pictures of the old guy in red. It was great to see her and feel her energy! At 13.1, someone called out a split of 1:38 something, I thought to myself, if I don’t slow down, I can run around 3:17-3:18. So I made a concerted effort not to slow down and run an even race. Apparently, my bit of effort caused me to start passing people. I was running and enjoying the feeling of being in a road race. At around mile 16, a lady yelled at me, “Way to go, Grandpa!”, WTF? I went through 30K (18.6 miles) and felt surprising well. There was a stretch of road over a mile long where you could see, partly because the first half was slightly downhill and the remainder slightly back up. So I would pick out someone 4 or 5 people ahead of me and run them down. I did this for the next mile or two. We were running in a neighborhood and a spectator shouted, “5 miles to go”. Well, this seems too easy, but I didn’t want to increase my pace because I have not trained for this race and the last few miles could be a disaster. So I just kept going after and passing the next 2 or 3 people in front of me. Now we ran back on the mile stretch and into the downtown area. I just kept to the plan, then I see the 24 mile mark. 2.2 to go, my first thought was how Alex and I motivate each other with how many laps (of a 400 meter track) that we have left in the run, 9 LAPS.

Apparently, I missed the 25 mile marker, because the next thing I see is #26. Wow, 385 yards to go. I cruise in, the clock above my head reads “3:12:02”. It was amazing how easy that felt.

Walk through the chute, I’m handed a finisher’s medal (which I absolutely despise) and walk to find Emma, who I saw in the last 100 meters of the race. While I’m walking, I make eye contact with a little girl who is 7 or 8, with Down’s, I walk over to her and ask if she cheered for me when I was finishing. She said she did, so I put my finisher’s medal around her neck. She smiled and hugged me. That made me feel even better than I already did. I figure out that I can walk through the medical tent to get to Emma. The security guard stops me and asks me where I’m going, I tell him through the medical to find my daughter. He says that I can’t go through the medical tent. Now it’s a game, I immediately tell him that I need medical attention. He arrogantly asks what’s wrong with me. I tell him that is a HIPAA violation to ask and walk right by him. Eventually, I find Emma and we walk back to the car so I can change shoes and put sweats on. I took my singlet off and put a t-shirt on. However; I did take the free beer tag off of my bib. We walked over to the “Beer Garden” and the security guard stops me and says it’s for runners. I tell her I just ran, she asks where my number and medal are. I’m beginning to not like security in Cleveland. I tell her that I already changed at the car and to get out of my way. I go in (with Emma) and have a shitty Fat Head beer, I don’t even remember which one it was.

Emma and I leave the beer area and walk back to the car. I drive her to her car, give her parking and lunch money, give her a kiss and hug, and then drive 2 hours and 15 minutes to Pittsburgh. Arrive at my brother’s place, shower, relax for 30 minutes, then he takes me to the airport where I met Melissa and 45 minutes later, boarded a plane to Savannah. Almost 3 hours in the middle seat, then an hour drive home.

My Sunday, run just over 3 hours, sit almost 8 hours.

My Monday, pure joy (sarcasm).

But I would do it over again…maybe next time in Boston.