Monday, December 18, 2017

The Bear 100, 2017

If At First You Don't Succeed...

 You know those moments when you think to yourself "what did I just do?!" That was me sometime around November 2016. I finally realized what a rookie impulse move it was to sign up for a 100 miler. My first. And for my first, The Bear 100 Endurance Run! One of the hardest 100's in the country. The word "moron" kept running through my head and it was very appropriate. So why would I do such a moronic thing? I have never been all that allured by the 100 mile distance. I respect those who run it and I enjoy hearing the stories of the complete brutalization of their bodies but I really had never been seriously tempted to sign up for one. So why would I do such a thing?

Well, it all started in 2013 when one of my good buddies, Scott, asked me to be one of his pacers for The Bear. I had never paced an Ultra before and thought "cool, let's do it." Scott had done several ultras before and he is a super tough dude and a very strong runner. I thought this would be an epic experience and I was glad I would part of a huge accomplishment for him. Well, the Bear had other things in mind. My job was to pace him from mile 51 to mile 75. By the time he got to me at the Tony Grove Aid Station he was a complete mess. He was about two hours late and he was hobbling. His feet were bloody with blisters. We took him to the van so he could warm up and so that we could treat the blisters. I was concerned but I really didn't know if the shape he was in for a 100-miler was par for the course or if he was in real trouble. He slept for about 20 minutes and then we took off.

As always he was in high spirits and put on a brave face throughout the night. His feet hurt so bad that it was very slow going. Around mile 63 we encountered really steep downhill and ice, lots of ice. Scott's legs and feet hurt so bad that he had to take baby steps to make any progress. He didn't think he would need trekking poles so the going was very slow. By the time that we got to the mile 76 Beaver Lodge Aid Station he was walking like a zombie. It had taken us over 14 hours to go about 25 miles! When the medical staff checked him out his big toe was the size of a light bulb. While the medical staff lanced his blisters he just sat there with a blank stare on his face. I soon realized that he was sleeping with his eyes open, while they were lancing monster blisters on his feet! Well, Scott is one tough dude and he opted to continue but by the mile 85 aid station he had run out of time and had to DNF.

I was shocked at the brutality of the whole thing. I swore to myself that I would never attempt such a stupid thing. Then two days after the DNF Scott informed me that he was signing up again for next year and if I would pace him again. I was dumbfounded but, whatever, he's my bro and I would support him. So fast forward to 2014 and one of the most challenging conditions in the history of the Bear. Heavy, oh so heavy rainstorms as soon as the sun went down. Scott had a good first 50 miles but the sun had taken a toll on him. The day had been bright sunshine and hot. He did not adjust his plan for this and by the time he got to Tony Grove (mile 51) he was pretty wrecked but blister free after a change to better footwear. he was also using trekking poles which helped a ton. However, when the rains came it turned everything to a muddy slip and slide. Around mile 63, again, Scott started having severe GI issues and he started cramping uncontrollably.

I was so concerned about Scott's condition that a mile later I had him take a nap even though it was pouring down steady rain on us. I let him sleep for about 30 minutes and then we kept going. Those 30 minutes were pretty sketchy. Aside from the lightning that was starting to increase in intensity the night was pitch dark. To make matters worse there were two runners that came by and they literally looked like zombies. I said hi to them and all they responded with was "Agghh, ugh, ya". One of those guys was even walking like Frankenstein. It was unnerving. Then the lightning started to hit a crescendo. The lightning was indescribable. I am terrified of lightning so at least Scott had some comedy relief every time I cursed when it would flash all around us. I seriously thought we were going to die up there. We hunkered down in the middle of the trail and waited for the lightning to pass. When things calmed down a bit we tried to keep going but Scott got to a point where he was unable to move. His legs were totally cramped and he could not hold down any food. Around mile 67 he decided to throw in the towel. I ran ahead and went to the mile 69 aid station (Logan River) and got medical help to come pick him up. In the way to get him we picked up the two zombies who decided to drop as well. When we got to Scott he was trying to move but was just shuffling. We got him into the car and the DNF was official.

Scott Taking a Nap 

I thought, for sure he is never attempting that crazy thing again. Well, sure enough a couple of months later Scott comes to my house with a gift card to Barnes & Noble and a Thank You card and he asked me to pace again in 2015. I couldn't believe it! I asked him if he had a psychological condition that needed to be diagnosed. He said he could not live with the unfinished business. Aaarrrghhhh...ok, here we go again.

Scott's Revenge

September, The Bear, again, what's the definition of insanity? Well, truth be told the ramp up to The Bear 2015 felt very different. We did everything we could to put all lessons learned to good use. Scott stopped running crazy 100+ mile weeks. He dialed in his nutrition and we did research on all we could do to battle GI issues. He got the best gear he could find to control the cold overnight. We also settled on a sock and shoe rotation approach to make sure to avoid blisters. But the best thing that Scott did that year was to overhaul his pacing strategy. When the day finally came we couldn't have asked for better weather. The sun was out but it wasn't too hot. Scott took it very slow in the first 51 miles up to Tony Grove. So slow that I thought he was having troubles. But then when I saw him at Tony Grove I knew he was in a really good place. He looked good and was in great spirits. More than anything he looked totally in control. The overnight portion was, dare I say it, easy. The weather was clear and not too cold. Scott was running very strong, so strong in fact that I was having a hard time keeping up. As soon as he started having any stomach distress he took Tums which did the trick beautifully. He kept his salt intake in check and he didn't spend too much time at the aid stations. I massaged his feet on most of the aid stations and we made sure he always ran with clean socks and comfortable shoes. In the end he did it! He conquered The Bear and did it in under 34 hours. I was so happy for him. He didn't give up and achieved what seemed impossible.

A year later when September rolled around I was actually bummed that I wasn't out there with the racers. I really missed the whole challenge. So then those thoughts turned to the inspiration I felt from Scott's finish the year before and before you knew it I decided that I would run the 2017 Bear. When registration opened in November I signed up and Scott and Kelli agreed to be my pacers. A month later all I could think was "what have I done?" Which started the slight panic attacks that persisted for most of 2017. The Bear was the first event in a long time that I really was not sure I could finish. I have never DNF'd but there was a real possibility that this could be my first DNF. I was also keenly aware of the brutality that I was about to impose on my body and I had to work really hard on not letting that overwhelm me. The one saving grace I had was the fact that I had an A-team recruited to be my crew. My wife agreed to be the main driver and she was also the logistics expert. My wife is the smartest and most efficient person I know and I knew that at least logistically things would be flawless. Then of course Scott and Kelli, both veterans of 100-mile races and some of the most awesome people in the universe. I can spend many hours with these guys and never get tired of listening to their stories. Finally there was a wild card that I felt really good betting on. My son-in-law Kevin was my last pacer. He had never run anything longer than about 10 miles but he is young, athletic, and grew up doing all sorts of stuff in the outdoors. I felt he was a pretty safe bet to be a good pacer. In any case I really like the kid so at a minimum the company would be great.

My Turn to Suffer

September 2017, The Bear, again. I tried to use all the lessons learned from all my previous experiences in preparation for the Bear. I had good gear, good nutrition, a good crew, and pretty good preparation. I may have gone a bit light on the mileage but all I could do was a maximum of 70 miles in one week. However, I felt strong. The only worries I had were that my right knee kept having a nagging pain whenever I would run faster than 8 minute pace and that I was feeling a cold coming on. I would not be going faster than 8 minute pace anywhere in The Bear so I wasn't too concerned about it. The cold was more of a concern although it felt like the cold coming on would not be too severe. However, in a 100-mile race little problems can become huge problems and there may be nothing you can do about it. I decided I wouldn't worry about that since these were things I could not control.

We went up to Logan on the 28th and headed straight for Merlin Olson Park where we would pick up our race packets and listened to the race briefing. Afterwards we went to Olive Garden and had a very enjoyable dinner with Scott and Kelli. Then we went to the Hampton Inn and had a logistics pow wow. I organized all my morning gear and went to bed.

The start is set up in the parking lot of an LDS Church in the foothills of Logan. The sky was clear and it was cold but not overly so. It looked like the weather for the first day would be pretty ideal, sunny with highs in the low 60's. However, on the 2nd day there was a strong chance of rain starting around 10am with that rain turning to snow in the higher elevations. Fully knowing what rain does to those trails I mentally prepared myself for a slow mud fest. About two minutes from the start I went to turn my headlamp on and it didn't turn on! Panic. I started freaking out because while I had a backup lamp it was a really crappy lamp. I calmed down and started troubleshooting the issue and found that the lamp had disconnected from the battery pack. I had to thread the power cable back in the elastic sleeve and connect the lamp. The race started as I was doing this and the entire field was running by me while Jolynne and I tried to figure out the lamp. I finally figured out the lamp and it turned on. I kissed Jolynne goodbye and went running to catch up to the group. Not a good start.

Putting my headlamp on after fixing it. 

The First Half

I ran fast to catch up and get myself in the middle of the pack. The first mile or so was on a road before reaching the mountain trail. I wanted to be in the middle of the pack because I knew we would soon be on a single-track trail that went up about 11 miles and 3,000 feet. I did not want to be in the back of the pack going up that trail. The pace the pack was keeping was just right and I felt pretty good. Despite all the trees and foliage there was quite a bit of wind and it was pretty chilly. It only got colder as we climbed. Then we hit snow and it turned pretty muddy. I got quite frustrated because there were some people that were going ridiculously slow and passing them was a real feat. Eventually I found some open trail and was able to pick up the pace a bit. The Logan Peak Aid Station (Mile 10.5) was nothing more than 4 tables with food and a truck with water all on the side of a narrow road. I refilled my water, took some salt and ate some chips. I was there probably 5 minutes. I thought the road would go straight downhill from here but it was actually rolling for a couple of miles. Many of the parts were really muddy and it was here that I made my first big mistake of the race. In order to avoid a muddy puddle I decided to jump a big old log. Well, my back leg didn't quite clear it and it hit hard right below the knee. Lesson learned: getting feet muddy is better than risking injury. It hurt like a mother and I had blood running down my leg. I decided it wasn't bad enough to do anything about it since nothing was broken and the pain had just been temporary. It looked worse than what it was.

The trail then started going steeply downhill. I picked up the pace and made some time. The scary thing was that I was starting to feel a bit tired. I hadn't even gone 20 miles and I was experiencing some fatigue. I decided to slow down, which was a good thing because the trail got very rocky and it was difficult to keep my footing. I got to the Leatham Hollow Aid Station (Mile 20) feeling great to see the crew and to sit down for a while. I cleaned up the wound and refueled with a protein shake and some salt potatoes. I got some good advice from Scott, shed some layers of clothes, got my trekking poles and got on my way.

Running into Leatham Hollow Aid Station.

Scott giving me some coaching. 

The next aid station, Richard's Hollow (Mile 22.5) was close and the road was essentially flat. I stopped to eat some potatoes and then it was up about 1,200 feet up to the Cowley Canyon Aid Station (Mile 30). I actually felt pretty good for this section of the race. It was weird how fast some people were going. I was getting passed a lot but I did my best not to go with them. This section of the course was beautiful. The trees were turning and a lot of the trail is next to water. It was just absolutely stunning. Cowley Canyon was a great Aid Station. They had tons of food, lots of places to sit and port-a-potties. I stayed here probably about 10 minutes getting my bearings and then I continued.

The road to the Right-hand Fork Aid Station (Mile 36) had some monster rollers before heading downhill. I ran about half of that distance with another runner before he dropped me. I was highly motivated to get to Right-hand Fork because this was the first aid station where you could pick up a pacer. Kelli would be my first pacer and it would be nice to have someone to share suffering with. I got to Right-hand Fork and those guys had everything ready for me. They even had a slushy ready for me. I changed clothes and took off with Kelli. The nice thing about Kelli is that she is very social and knows a whole bunch of runners. To go out of Right-hand Fork you go out the way you came. So on the way out Kelli was talking to all sorts of people and we even made a friend from San Francisco who ran with us for quite a while. The trail to Temple Fork Aid Station (Mile 45) was rolling to flat but like everything in this race had all sorts of terrain: dirt roads, single-track, grass, water crossings, you name it. It was also very scenic. I started getting myself ready for what came ahead after Temple Fork, which was the 2,200 feet climb to the Tony Grove Aid Station (Mile 51).

Kelli and I leaving Right-hand Fork.

On the road to Temple Fork.

Kelli and I arriving at Temple Fork. 

Temple Fork was a great Aid Station with lots of support and lots of people. My whole crew was there and it was nice to spend time with them, especially Jolynne. I changed clothes again and put on gloves and a jacket. I also put my headlamp on since it would be dark by the time I got to Tony Grove. I was at Temple Fork for about 15 minutes and then Kelli and I took off. We crossed the road and started the climb. We hooked up with a firefighter who was racing The Bear for the 3rd time and he was great company. The climb was pretty steep but I was feeling great. The crazy thing was that about 1.5 miles from Tony Grove we ran into a guy that I had helped when I had volunteered at the Wasatch 100 a few weeks prior. Kyle Quist had passed out cold on the trail at the Wasatch 100. I went to get him and helped him make it to the aid station. Miraculously he was able to continue but he eventually had to drop at mile 46. It was great to see him at The Bear and he was running strong. We made it to Tony Grove around 8pm and I changed into warmer clothes. I started getting really cold but I thought it was because I was taking too long at the aid station and I was losing my body heat. I thought once I got moving I would warm up. Boy was I wrong.

Scott and I ready to leave Tony Grove. 

The Second Half

Scott was my pacer for the night portion and I was pretty excited about this. Our roles were now reversed and it would be fun to things from his perspective. What I wasn't expecting was how cold the night would get. The trail from Tony Grove to Franklin Basin Aid Station (Mile 61.5) went somewhat downhill and mostly next to water. The night got frigid cold and I could not get warm. I tried pumping my arms more and even picking up the pace but I still couldn't get warm. I started shivering and I started getting worried that I would get hypothermia. Luckily it never got serious but one thing the cold and the shivering did was send my stomach into disarray. I started getting all sorts of gas and uncontrollable hiccups. It was horrible and it slowed my pace. I would go a half hour with hiccups and a half hour just feeling sick. I got to a point where it became critical for me to get to the aid station. I needed to warm up. When I finally did I got into the car and cranked up the heater. It took a full 40 minutes for me to stop shivering. It was awful. I had to almost do a full change of clothes and I added layers. The sad thing is that my stop at that aid station ate up one whole hour of my race. I then had to mentally prepare for one of the steepest climbs in the race on the way to the Logan River Aid Station (Mile 69).

Trying to thaw out in the car at Franklin Basin.

I had to put a heat pack in my beanie to stay warm. 

Unfortunately being in the runner's shoes in this part of the course is not as fun as being a pacer. Scott was having a grand old time and was trying to cheer me up but my stomach issues and downright fatigue were preventing me from joining in the revelry. It was slow and painful going. I think sleep deprivation also started to play a part. I remembered each part of the course well and was thankful that conditions were dry. We got to Logan River Aid Station (this is where Scott dropped the second time he ran The Bear) and I took about 15 minutes to recover. Just knowing what was ahead was torture to my brain. We left the aid station and proceeded to cross the Logan River. I had seen a video from a past participant on the best way to do this and we followed it exactly. We crossed the river without any issues and started making our way to Beaver Mtn. Lodge (Mile 76).

Beaver Mountain Lodge - Where Runners Go To Die

I was originally hoping that I could make it to Beaver Mountain Lodge by 5am. Well, even with Scott's expert help, cheerfulness and outright crazy behavior I was still not able to make up any of the pace. We ended up getting to Beaver Mtn. Lodge at 8am and I was a complete wreck. I was hiccuping now almost non-stop and my feet were in complete agony. It had taken me 11 hours to go 25 miles! I knew there and then that I needed to drop. It was a mathematical impossibility for me to make it by the cutoff. I only had 9 hours to go 25 miles and ahead was one of the toughest stretches of the race with steep changes in elevation. To make matters worse it had started raining which meant that I would have to deal with muddy slip n' slides. No, it was clear I had to drop and not make Kevin suffer through trying to get me to the finish when it was clear that I would run out of time. I announced to the crew that my day had come to an end.

Scott and I coming into Beaver Lodge.

Scott tending to my feet at Beaver Lodge. 

 Jolynne about had a conniption. She said there was no way I could drop. Kevin said that he thought we had time and that he could get me to the finish in nine hours. Scott and Kelli strongly felt that I should continue. I told them they were not thinking rationally and they told me I was the one not thinking and that I should continue. I saw a lady who I had been going back and forth with the whole race sitting dejectedly in her chair and I asked her what she was doing. She said she was dropping, that it was impossible to make up the time. I agreed with her profusely but my crew would not listen to me! I then thought "these people have taken time out of their lives to help you and at a minimum you owe them your best effort. If Kevin is willing to waste his time on me then I should give it my very best try." So, I told them I would continue and got ready to leave. I was not happy to be going and the light rain falling outside did not help things any. But off we went to Gibson Basin Aid Station (Mile 84). I would have to go down 1,000 feet and then come up 1,000 feet in about 8 miles.

Kevin and I leaving Beaver Lodge. 

The going was slow but Kevin was keeping track of my nutrition and most importantly of the pace we needed to maintain. I made it very clear to him that I could not run but that I would try to keep the walking place required. I did my best to keep with him and to run whenever I fell behind. It was torture but I tried to take it all one step at a time and just focus on the now and let Kevin do all the thinking. Rain started to fall pretty steadily and the trails were pure mud slops. It made finding footing difficult but Kevin did a good job of finding the best tracks and I just followed his lead. When we finally got to Gibson Basin I couldn't sit down because all the chairs were full of water but at least they had a roaring fire and I was able to get a bit warm as I stood there in the rain. We only stayed there for 5 minutes and then kept going on to Beaver Creek Aid Station (Mile 85.5). This part under nice weather would have been downright enjoyable. It was a wide open trail and mostly flat, however the rain had done a nasty number on the trail and it was hard to stay upright. Kevin did his best to find good footing on the edges of the trail but it was slow going. It was in this section that we passed a man from Alabama and his pacer. The poor runner was sitting on a log in terrible pain and asking for some ibuprofen. Kevin happened to have some ibuprofen and gave it to him. Passing this runner reminded me the large percentage of people that DNF this race. The Bear on average has a 30% DNF rate, which is almost 100 runners out of the 300 that started. I was pretty sure at that point that I would probably be one of those statistics but I was determined to give it my very best.

The road to Gibson Basin. 

As we approached the aid station I saw that there was a cruel obstacle right before the aid station. There was a creek (Beaver Creek, duh) that we had to cross but there was no clear place in which to do so that would not require quite a bit of jumping. I was in no condition to jump anything so we looked really hard for a place where we could jump rocks without too much effort. We found a spot and while it was very tricky I was able to do it. Jolynne and the crew were very excited to see me and that I was willing to keep going. We got under the tent and I was able to sit down. The aid station had grilled turkey sandwiches and even though I was still having stomach issues I decided to give it a try. It was delicious and actually felt no worse than anything else I had been eating. I took some fluids and then the crew sent us on our way.

Kevin and I arriving at Beaver Creek.

Kevin and I ready to leave Beaver Creek.

Scott sleeping off the overnight pacing duties. 

The road from here to the finish would be horrendously difficult. The next aid station, Ranger Dip (Mile 92) was 7 miles and 800 feet of elevation away. The roads were especially rough in this portion and it was very difficult to find proper footing. Kevin kept leading the way and finding good spots to step on and kept me on pace. Many times the road would be so muddy that we had to bushwhack it on the sides, which was not fun. Every step was met with resistance from bushes. I also started seeing things. One time I was sure I saw a moose on the side of the road and it freaked me out, it was a tree. We had some funny times too. Someone wrote in the snow in big letters: RUNNING SUCKS! That made me laugh.

 We had a little over 2 hours to make the final 4pm cutoff at Ranger Dip. It was going to be very close. Quite frankly this was one of the more challenging sections because of the rain, mud, incline, the fatigue and the fact that we felt lost. We kept thinking that we should be able to see the aid station right around the corner but it never came. It was extremely frustrating and it felt like time was slipping away from us. We saw several desperate souls who were in a very similar situation as ours and were just as frustrated. Finally, I couldn't take the uncertainty and I asked Kevin to run ahead and find just how far we really were from the aid station. He pretty quickly found some people that told him we were about half a mile away. I had 15 minutes to make the cutoff. I picked it up significantly and did all I could to make it. Then I saw Kelli and my spirits rose because it meant I was close. She then told me that the actual cutoff was 4:15, not 4:00 as I originally thought. While this gave me some relief I knew that I still had the better part of 8 miles to the finish and only two hours to do it in.

Coming into Ranger Dip.

Trails were muddy messes.

Kevin and I leaving Ranger Dip. 8 miles to go!! 

Decision Time

Scott and Kelli told me I had to make a decision because the next section was really difficult. Did I want to call it a day and be proud of my effort thus far or did I want to miss the cutoff at the end but at least say I had done the whole 100 miles? It was funny because roles were now reversed where I originally thought this was impossible and they absolutely felt I could do it I now thought I had a real chance of making it and they thought I was done. I told them I would keep going. They then sent me and Kevin on our way. The mountain was covered in snow and we needed to be careful with our footing. Then I was faced with the most horrible thing I saw in the entire race. The incline we were facing was the steepest we had seen all day. Some spots would require both hands and feet to climb. It was awful and the map showed it lasted for most of one mile. It really would take a miracle to finish on time. My thoughts turned to a wristband that I wore the whole race. The wristband says "Team Madi". Madi is my niece who is battling brain cancer. Madi's and her parent's courage through their trial literally lifted my spirits and I felt so much stronger.

Well, with Kevin's encouragement, telling me to pump my arms and dig those trekking poles in, I somehow was able to keep pace all the way to the top. We even passed a couple of people who would end up not finishing. Once I made it to the top I knew that the last seven miles were 90% downhill. I thought to myself it's now or never. I gave my trekking poles to Kevin and I bombed downed the mountain. If there is something I am good at it is downhill running and I just let gravity take me and I did my best to keep my footing in the mud. The road conditions were so bad that things could have gone terribly wrong at any moment. I was jumping logs, jumping rocks and running at completely unsafe speeds for my condition. Somehow the adrenaline kicked in and I was able to keep running. The road seemed interminable I kept thinking that we would come off the mountain at any time but the end of the mountain road never came. I could see Bear Lake and we could see Fish Heaven but we could not see the end of the road. Finally there it was. The end of the road. But we saw a runner coming back up the road! She said that the flags that were supposed to be at the trail-head were not there. We got to the trail-head parking lot and sure enough we had no clue as to where to go. Kevin broke out his phone and opened up google maps in order to get his bearings. While he did this I shed some layers of clothes and packed them away. Finally Kevin found the way to get there and all three of us got out of there like a bat out of hell.

The Finish...Finally! 

We only had 40 minutes to make it to the finish and 2 miles to cover. Thankfully most of the way was downhill and we were running in desperation and clocking sub 8 minute pace in some spots. We then got to a point where according to the GPS we were only half a mile away and still had 25 minutes to get there. The realization hit us "We are going to make it!" Kevin was so happy and I was speechless. I couldn't believe that we were actually going to pull that off. We then saw the trail on the side of the road that went in front of the park where the finish is at. I started to run on the trail and that's when Scott saw me. The look on his face was one of disbelief and happiness all at once. He and I crossed the road together and then I ran the final stretch in the park to the finish. Jolynne saw me when I came into the park and she started screaming my name. She was so happy. A whole bunch of people had been tracking my progress and they were amazed to see me finish. But no one was as amazed as I was. I was 3rd to last in the race with a time of 35 hours, 47 minutes, and 30 seconds. I had made the cutoff of 36 hours by only 12.5 minutes!

The run to the finish. (Kevin right behind me)

Done!!! 

I was in absolute disbelief and a gave Kevin a big hug.  This kid paced like someone who had been doing that type of thing for decades. How he ever got me to that finish line I will never fully understand but it was a neat experience for both of us. When I asked him what was his favorite moment of the race he said that it was when we had two miles to go and I took off like a bat out of hell. He could not believe the speeds we were hitting. Pure adrenaline and a lot of blessings.

Face-full of emotion and thankfulness. 

I want to thank my incredible crew/pacers Jolynne Jimenez, Scott Stephenson, Kelli Stephenson, and my wonderful son-in-law Kevin Muncey who led me to the finish line. I thank Madi Knight, Kurt Knight and Jennifer Rockwood Knight for being inspirations to me. I also thank my Heavenly Father for having a tender mercy for me on something important to me but really insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Would I do it again? Please don't ask me that right now...

Me and my star pacing team.

Kevin, me, and Jolynne

Thursday, May 25, 2017

Boston Marathon 2017

This post is difficult to write.  Never have I had so many mixed emotions about a race experience as I do about this one.  The Boston Marathon is the Holy Grail for us recreational endurance athletes.  It is a standard that, to me at least, says "hey, you've still got it!"  Qualifying for and running Boston helps me feel like I am still competitive and gives me a deep sense of accomplishment.  However, Boston is much more than that.  The Boston Marathon in a very real sense is the spiritual center of our sport, the place where we come and pay homage to the athlete part of our lives that is so meaningful to us.

This was my second running of Boston and the experience was just as awesome as in 2011 when I first ran it.  Maybe even more so this year since it was so difficult.  The temps hovered around the 75 degree mark and the sun was out and super bright.  This made for warm conditions but luckily we had a tail wind which helped matters.  Since it was warm and I did, once again, too much tourist walking leading up to the race by mile 18 my feet and quads were screaming in pain.  I cannot figure this freaking race out!  In the end my sub 3:20 goal went out the window and I finished with a time of 3:28:35.  I needed a sub 3:25 for a BQ and once again I missed it.  Although this time by less than 4 minutes.  In 2011 I missed BQ by over 8 minutes.  In 2011 I placed in the 52nd percentile of my age group.  Six years later my time was worse by 5 minutes but I was in the 37th percentile of my age group.  According to MarathonGuide.com my performance of 3:23 in 2011 was an age-graded equivalent of 3:20.  My age-graded 3:28 performance in 2017 is a 3:15 equivalent.  So, I do think I ran a better race this time around but I still missed my goal to BQ.  No worries, this just means I will have to come back some time in the next couple of years to finish the business.  In the end though Right on Hereford, Left on Boylston was as magical as ever.  I left it all out there.

However, it is hard to be excited about Boston when the reality of life slaps you in the face the way it did for me on this Boston Marathon trip.  We stayed with my brother-in-law Kurt and his beautiful family.  Kurt and Jenn have five beautiful children ranging in age from 11 years old to 2.  They are always gracious hosts whenever we come to visit them and it is always a good time.  This time though tragedy struck their beautiful family while we were visiting with them in Boston.

My 11-year old niece Madi had been having fairly serious GI issues for a some time and by the time we got to Boston her symptoms were fairly severe.  The day after the marathon Jenn was fed up with the lack of answers she was getting from the doctors and she insisted in speaking with the GI doctor directly.  When she was talking to the doctor and explaining the recent symptoms Madi had been experiencing she mentioned that she had started to have bad headaches.  The doctor became alarmed when he heard this and ordered an MRI first thing on Wednesday morning.  Kurt and Jenn went to the MRI appointment at 7:30 am and we stayed with the kids.  A few hours later we got the news that they had found a very large tumor in Madi's brain.

Madi was rushed to have surgery and they were able to remove about 75% of the tumor.  Unfortunately the diagnosis is brain cancer.  The tumor is a Glioblastoma which is very aggressive.  They only removed 75% of the tumor because the rest was too risky to take out.  Miraculously she has been able to recuperate from the surgery very quickly and is very happy to be able to eat without throwing things up all the time.  However, Madi's fight is only starting.  The long-term odds with this type of cancer are not good at all but I believe in miracles.  If God wills it then I will exercise all the faith I can muster to plead with Him for Madi to beat this cancer.  As it is she has the best medical care in the nation when it comes to brain cancer and she has the best parents in the world to be with her through this struggle.  Her Mom Jenn is a cancer survivor herself and both she and my brother-in-law Kurt are wonderful and loving parents who will  help Madi through this great trial.

We had the blessing of being there until Thursday after the marathon and were able to take care of the kids for the two days after the discovery of the tumor.  So you see my Boston experience this time around has taken on a very different meaning.  I have always had such meaningful experiences anytime I go to Boston but this one has been almost indescribable.  I feel blessed to have had a wonderful experience with the marathon but I feel so thankful to have had the opportunity to be of some small service to Kurt and Jenn and their kids.  They are an awesome family.  I can't imagine what they are going through right now and the long road ahead for Madi.  I feel fortunate we had the opportunity to be there with them.  There is little that we did or could ever do but I was just glad to be close to them.  Whenever I think of the marathon now I will forever associate it with the graciousness, courage and love that Kurt, Jenn, Madi and their family represent for me.  The words Boston Strong to me are now forever associated with Kurt and Jenn's family.  They are always in my mind and in my prayers.

The awesome Knight kids when we took them to Minuteman National Park.  This is after the race wile Madi was recovering from her operation.  As you can see these kids have some swagger!


The marathon was awesome but in the larger context of events it is a minor part of our visit to Boston.  The Boston Marathon is the most organized and highest quality endurance event that I have experienced.  I have now raced it twice and the second time was almost as impressive as the first time in 2011.  Getting to the start line is so incredibly easy that it is easy to forget that the BAA is actually transporting 26,000+ runners up to the tiny town of Hopkinton.  I showed up at Boston Common a bit before 7:00 am dressed in throw away clothes that would be donated to charity by the BAA.  Ever since the 2013 bombings they have not allowed morning clothes bags on the buses so if you want warm clothes you pretty much have to dress like a hobo or be stylish and get a warm fuzzy for donating nice clothes to charity.  I went the hobo route by wearing sweat pants from when I was 30 pounds heavier and my daughters old High School Track sweater.  The BAA does allow you to bring a small clear bag for food, drink, etc. but it is very limited.  Luckily the weather that morning was nice at 60 degrees and I really didn't need much.

The abandoned morning clothes...

The BAA gives you a time for boarding the buses and as part of Wave 2 I had to board a bus before 7:40.  I walked right up to the buses and didn't even make a line to get in.   Much smoother than 2011.  My bus-mate for the ride to Hopkinton was a 53 year-old farmer (and runner) from Wyoming named Jed (no joke).  The dude was awesome and we had a really cool conversation which really calmed down the nerves.  This was Jed's first Boston and he was a man with a plan.  He had everything completely planned and was totally ready to go.  We got up to Hopkinton a little bit after 8:00 am.  The place was packed with runners, porta-potties, tents, welcome signs, bagels, coffee, and Gatorade.  And yep, the longest lines were for coffee and the porta-potties.

Entrance to the Athlete's Village in Hopkinton

This year I was actually able to find a spot under one of the tents.

Another view of the entrance to the AV

Wave 2 was called out at 9:40 am but I was in-line for the porta-potty for one last pit stop with about a 10 minute wait.  I decided to risk it and wait for the porta-potty.  After the porta-potty I made my way out of the village for the almost 1-mile walk to the starting corrals.  Spectators were already lined up to cheer on the runners as they made their way toward the corrals.  It was crazy.

Leaving the Athlete's Village.  Here we go!!!

On the way to the corrals we were welcomed to Hokpinton!

I jogged the rest of the way to the 2nd corral of Wave 2 and on the way took a few pictures of the exit to the streets of Hopkinton.  Fun fact:  The week after the marathon I started looking into hiring a consulting firm to help me at work and where are they based?  Hopkinton.  They were literally right across the green and within sight of the start line.  Not that I was going to conduct business on that day (LOL) but fun fact nonetheless.  Around this time there was also a flyover by what looked to be F-16.  They were flying low and it was pretty cool.

I decided to bring my phone with me and took good video of the start.  Fun fact:  After the race I saw WBZ's News coverage of the race and saw myself taking video of the start.  The fact that I was holding the phone up was the only reason I was able to place myself in the Wave 2 field.

The guy holding the phone up is me!!!


The start of the race from Wave 2 Corral 2.

The start was so much nicer than in 2011 when I was in Corral 6 of Wave 1 and it took forever to get to the start line.  This year I was able to see the start line festivities participate in the excitement of the start.  The start line the course felt much more crowded than in 2011 which makes sense since there are about 3,000 people more in 2017 than in 2011.  It was very difficult to find clear running space in order to get to race pace.  When I finally got to race pace I started really feeling that the heat was going to be a significant factor in this race.  I decided to drink more than planned.

One thing that totally infuriates me is the fact that Boston is not a record eligible race.  The reason is that for a marathon to be record eligible the start can't be too far from the finish and there should be no net elevation drop.  I understand that easy enforceable rules are good for the sport but they suck for Boston.  Every runner (including the pros) knows that Boston is a freakishly hard course.  The course is point-to-point and net downhill but on the way to Boston you go up and down a ton of hills some of which are disingenuously called "rollers".  Rollers my butt, most of those are bona fide hills and then as you are hitting the critical miles 18-21 all you have is a series of steep hills culminating in Heartbreak Hill, which is not the worse of the Newton Hills but is the insult to the injury.  Getting a PR at Boston is extremely difficult and the fact that it is not eligible for records is an insult.  OK, off my soap box...  One more thing, why doesn't anybody ever mention that hill at mile 25?!  That one really sucks...

The first 10K was great in the sense that the crowd support was incredible.  It was also funny to see how many people were essentially tailgating the marathon.  Burgers, brats, beer, loud music, you name it, it was a party.  I was extremely entertained simply by people-watching the spectators.  The whole race just seemed to be so much louder than in 2011.  By the 10K mark the fact that heat would be an issue was confirmed.  I really don't know what went through my mind at this point.  A rational person would have pulled back on the pace knowing that the second half of the course is much more challenging than the first.  For some reason my brain just kept thinking that hope by itself may turn into reality and that somehow my body would just be able to respond better in the 2nd half.

Jolynne and the rest of the gang decided that they would spectate at the 10-mile mark at Natick.  I started taking video with my phone as I approached mile 10 in hopes of catching their reaction when I ran by.  I also wanted to hand off my phone to Jolynne since I was sick of carrying it.  Like the last time I ran the marathon we agreed that they would carry orange balloons so that I could easily spot them.  Well here is what happened...



As you can see the balloons are right there!  I still somehow totally missed them...

There's the family with the balloons...

There's me running towards them...

...and me running right by them!


...and me coming back to hand off my phone.

I'm lucky I didn't miss them!

As you will notice I somehow totally missed my family and if it wasn't for Sofia yelling "Dad!" I would have missed them completely.  I had to backtrack and give them high fives and hand in my phone.  The fact that I completely missed those orange balloons that you can clearly see in the video shows you how mentally out of it I was by mile 10.  At this point I knew things were going to be tough for the rest of the race.

However for some strange reason I would not compromise my hunt and kept up my pacing strategy.  The result was that by the time I got to the Newton Hills around mile 17 I was completely cooked.  But before I go to the sad tale of the Newton Hills I have to give props to the Wellesley College girls.  Those are the loudest human beings in the universe.  I think I gave high fives to all of them.  And no, I did not kiss any of them.  I am old enough to be their father, gross.

OK, back to the Newton hills...  The first hill was sheer torture and by the time I got to Heartbreak I was truly suffering.  My feet hurt but what hurt the most were my hips.  This was weird because I never really have fatigue like that in my hips.  I knew now for sure that all that tourist walking and standing before the race was coming back to haunt me.  I also knew that it would take a miracle to do better than the 3:23 that I got back in 2011.  At this point I reset my goal to simply get a time under 3:25.

As I was jogging up Heartbreak people kept shouting encouragement, which I appreciated, but it started to annoy the crap out of me.  I felt so powerless going up that hill. Finally when I made it up to Boston College (mile 21) I took inventory of my situation and I thought that I could push it a little bit.  I was then able to find a little bit of speed but I also found incredible amounts of pain in my feet and my hips.  It was all now a mental exercise.  I knew that Jolynne and the crew would be waiting for me at mile 23 (Coolidge Corner) and I focused on getting over there in decent shape.  I got a bit of a second wind during that 2 mile stretch and I was able to at least keep the pace in the 8's.

As I approached Mile 23 I quickly saw the spot where we had arranged to meet.  The street looked just like it did on Google Earth so I knew where to look and I immediately spotted the balloons.  As soon as I spotted the balloons I heard Conrad yell out "Hurry up you Mexican!"  I didn't even have the strength to cuss him out as he so richly deserved.  I then met up with Jolynne and Kurt and gave them high fives.  Kurt said Jenn was on the other side of the street on the median but as I ran by I never did see her.

Conrad yelling "Hurry up you Mexican!"

Right after mile 23 with a little over a 5K left all strength left me.  I have always said that marathons would be awesome if they were only 23 miles!  I always hit the wall hard at 23 miles and Boston was no exception.  I now felt the heat and humidity like I had not felt before running in Boston and I had to think about every step.  Somehow I was able to keep running.  At a very slow pace (high 8's and 9's) but running nonetheless.  I think my years of Ironman training and racing definitely taught me to sustain suffering a bit better because it took all I had not to walk from there to the finish.

I kept losing time and by this point it was clear that I would not get a time under 3:25.  So once again no BQ for me at Boston.  Dang it!!!!  In any case, the last thing I wanted was to get a time that was greater than 3:30.  I think mentally anything over 3:30 would have really soured me on this running of Boston.  I could accept the fact that all my tourist walking and the heat totally shot my time goal but I definitely believed I was in good enough shape, regardless of the conditions, to at least break 3:30!  So the new goal was to protect my psyche.  Get in under 3:30.  At all costs!!!

Then it came into view...the CITGO sign.  This iconic landmark a Fenway Park marks the "1 mile to go" spot on the course.  It looked so far away.  I put my head down and I pushed.  I had been pouring so much water over me in order to control the heat that my shirt was completely wet and even though I used Body Glide generously my nipples were on fire.  But there was one major test left on the course.  The hill leading up to Mile 25.  Nobody ever talks about this part of the course but there is a fairly significant incline leading up to the Mile 25 mile marker and it is a killer.  The "hill" in reality is the overpass over the Mass Turnpike.  I almost stopped and walked but I just kept thinking how much worse the hill at Ironman Vineman felt last year.  That helped me to just go up the hill.

CITGO sign...after the race.

Sometime after I finally made it to mile 25 I noticed the 3 blue lines in the middle of the road that mark the final stretch of the race.  I focused on those lines and tried to block all else out.  It was hard though because the crowds were insane and they kept calling out to me.  However, the crowd support is not so much fun when you are hurting like I was and I just wanted to focus on finishing the race.  Then I went down under the the Mass Avenue overpass and on the way back up my legs stopped turning over and I walked for about 10-15 steps and then I remembered "I must get under 3:30!" and so I started running again.  Right in front of me was the famous right turn at Hereford St.  I took it as fast as I could and I focused on the blue "Adidas" lines on the road and made it up the hill to Boylston.  I then made the most famous turn in all of road racing "Left on Boylston" and there I could see it, the finish line!

Fun fact:  The words "Right on Hereford, Left on Boylston" describe the most legendary turns in marathoning.  However, if you are driving the course remember that you CAN'T turn right on Hereford!  It's a one-way street.  I found that out the hard way...

Me making a "Right on Hereford" and onto oncoming traffic.  Oops, not good...


The finish line looked so far away.  I then kicked it into high gear and put in all of my effort.  The crowds were deafening.  I felt inspired by the sight that has become so familiar to me especially after the 2013 bombings.  The crowds, the stands, Marathon Sports, the Public Library, the Church of the Finish Line and of course the finish line itself.  I put in one last hard effort and I crossed the finish line in 3:28:35.  Psyche saved, body destroyed.

I felt very satisfied and very happy but completely in pain.  Every step was horrendously painful.  All of the sudden the sky got all cloudy and I'm thinking "The sun has been beating on me for over three freaking hours and the clouds come in the minute I finish?!"  At least the cool the clouds brought made the space blanket I got at the finish useful.  The Boston Finish Line chute is like no other.  They give you water, a space blanket, your medal (which is now way bigger and nicer than back in 2011), a bag of food and recovery protein drink.  Pretty much all you need to refuel after the run.  The part that's not so nice is that you walk over half a mile to the family meeting area.  That half a mile was slow, very slow.  I finally found Jolynne, Sofia, and Brandon.  We had a nice meeting and some time for me to sit down and talk about the race.  After I felt sufficiently strong enough to get going we made our way to Boston Common and to the subway where, of course, we celebrated with some Dunkin Donuts.  It is Boston after all.

Happy to see my family in the family meeting area.


My daughter Sofia and I in the family meeting area.

Sofia and I in Boston Common

The subway ride back to Belmont...and to Dunkin Donuts!