I started this recap a few days after Boston, but I’m only just finishing it a month later. Since Boston, I started working full time and haven’t really had much time to do anything else! I definitely wanted to get all my thoughts about the race down because it was so special to me, so here’s my story:

I used an 18-week Boston Marathon training plan created by Hansons Marathon Method to prepare for the race. I started training after resting for a week after the St. Jude Marathon in Memphis (early December). I followed the program closely, but a couple of weeks before the marathon, my hamstring started to hurt. It was a tightness that would loosen up after a few miles of running, and I imagined it would fade away like many of the aches and pains I experienced during training. After a week or so, my leg just began hurting and feeling tight all the time. I could feel the injury in every step, though the pain was never bad enough to make me stop running. I took 5 days off of running the week before the race, and only ran three easy miles on my hotel treadmill in Boston the day before the race,. My leg did not feel better. The marathon the next day was going to be tough, but I was hopeful that the pain wouldn’t worsen and I would be able to finish.

I woke up on race morning at 6 a.m., and began getting ready for the cold, rainy, and windy day ahead. My original race outfit for a 40ish degree day was going to be shorts, a tank top, tall compression socks and long arm sleeves. My outfit plan changed many times in the few days before the race, but in the end I had to settle for more clothes! Compression socks and warm tights went on first, and I wrapped my socked feet in plastic bags before putting on my throw away shoes. Tank top and arm sleeves were next, then my Democrat-Gazette sweatshirt (that I would unfortunately have to add to the donation bin before the race started) and my rain jacket, ski pants, hat, gloves and poncho. I carried my race shoes separately so I could keep them dry and change into them at the start line.

Natosha, my training friend (and run coach, counselor, motivator, etc.), met me at my hotel and we took a shuttle to Boston Common, where we would meet fellow Little Rock runner, Keith, and board a school bus to take us to the start line in Hopkinton. It was so warm on the bus and so cold outside that the windows began to sweat, and we couldn’t see out of them. This would be Keith’s third time running this race, so he tried to fill us in on what to expect when we would get off the bus in Hopkinton. It was wetter, colder, and muddier than he could have ever imagined! We immediately crossed the muddy field and headed to the line of porta potties, where we would stand waiting for the next 30 minutes. Right before it was my turn, a fellow runner approached me and asked if she could cut in line. I was shocked, but felt guilty about denying her so I let her go ahead of me.

My little group reconnected, and we trudged through the mud to the water tent so we could fill our bottles and get rid of some clothing and our drop bags. We walked for what seemed like a mile to the final staging area, where we sat down, changed shoes, and removed our last layers. I planned to race in tights, a tank top, arm sleeves, my rain jacket, hat and gloves. We walked a little further found our corral (4) and awaited the announcement to start running (which happened fast). We did the typical start line shuffle, where you think you can start running but the people in front of you slow down a bit, and you half run/half walk for the first steps. It’s not an enjoyable dance when you’re hamstring is bothering you, because you just want to stretch your legs but you have to watch out for so many other runners.

It took a while to feel settled, and we were soaked after just a few miles. It was possible to weave around people to find clear paths to run on, but a few strides later we’d lose our positions and end up chasing each other into another clearing. I looked at Natosha at one point, after she had to run around another runner to get beside me, and I told her to make sure she was running her race. Not much later, I realized my one pre-race bathroom trip wasn’t going to be enough for me to run the whole race without another trip to a Porta-Potty, so I mentioned to Natosha that I already knew I would stop. My hope was to make it to the halfway mark, but I wasn’t sure I could wait that long. Natosha said she would stop when I needed, and I silently made a decision that I wouldn’t tell her when I planned to stop. I’ve stopped in both of my Boston Qualifying races, and managed to finish with a great cushion each time. I have not, however, ran a successful race with a lingering pain in my leg, and the idea of stopping and starting again before hitting the more difficult parts of the race was really scary.

“If only” and “If I would have known” are phrases often used post-race, and I did not want one of mine to be that my hard-working friend held herself back to wait for me. My biggest fear was that I would go too fast on the “easy” part of the race, and fall apart on the very hilly second half. If I stopped for a bathroom break early and had trouble starting again, how would that affect me later in the race when things really started to get tough? Keith and I were running together for a few minutes behind Natosha, and I told him that I didn’t think I could keep our current pace and successfully make it up the hills later in the race. I asked him to just take care of Natosha, and I let him run ahead of me (spoiler: she finished in 3:21, just one minute slower than the goal we trained for).

From miles 7-10, I kept a fast pace that was only a few seconds slower than my goal marathon pace. During the 10^th mile, I stopped for my first bathroom break. My next 4 miles were around an 8:05 min/mile pace, and during mile 15 I made my longest stop. My gloves were soaked, and I had trouble getting toilet paper from the roll. I had to take my gloves off, and my hands were so cold and wet that putting the gloves back on took forever. That mile was my slowest, and the split was 12:43! From there, I ran steady at an 8:30 pace until I saw my husband and family just before Heartbreak Hill. I stopped to hug and thank them, and took some great photos with my husband. It was worth the loss of a few minutes off my finishing time. I coasted the rest of the race at a 9:30 pace, and tried to enjoy every second while reminding myself that if I had make it this far, I could definitely finish. My leg didn’t feel any better or any worse on the hills, which was a relief. I knew I could push myself to cross the finish line, and then I didn’t have to worry about running again until I was ready.

I read on the Boston Marathon Training group Facebook page that if you had a few seconds to spare, you should try to find an opening at the finish line to run through so you could get a great race photo. I found one, and was ready to flash my biggest smile, but at the last second two runners cut in front of me. Big bummer, but nothing could really bring me down too much at that moment. I finished the race in 3:47, about a minute slower per mile than my goal pace. After getting my blanket, medal and snack bag, I headed to the family waiting area to meet my family. I was overcome with sadness during that walk, and it was a weird feeling. You’re cold and exhausted, but you also just finished the Boston Marathon and you want to celebrate. I could have used a hug at that moment, but did not feel brave enough to ask a stranger!

I found my family and we wandered around trying to find a place where I could change clothes. I ended up changing in the corner of a lobby and was so thankful that I at least had that space to use. My family and I headed back to our hotel so I could shower and change again, and we were all looking forward to spending some time getting warm and dry.

Because I’m finishing this almost 4 weeks after the race, I think it’s important to include my recovery. Until yesterday, May 11^th, I haven’t been able to run even a few steps. Chasing after Rose has been especially difficult. I figured the marathon would worsen my injury, but I didn’t think it would take so long to shake it. I told myself I would take two weeks to see if it got better, and if it didn’t, I would schedule an appointment to see how severe the injury really was. I HATE going to the doctor, by the way. I went last year when my leg swelled up after a marathon in Nashville, and I pretty much got shrugs from the nurse practitioner. With no outward signs of injury, I was worried the same thing would happen this time. The pain was no longer in a place I could pinpoint. It wasn’t specifically my hamstring or quad, but more in the middle of my thigh. I don’t even know what muscles/tendons are there!

After about 2.5 weeks of constant pain, I started lifting weights. I still couldn’t run, but I was desperate to exercise. I could squat, deadlift and walk with no issues. I couldn’t lunge or run at all. Slowly, the pain started to lessen, and yesterday I was able to awkwardly run about 200m at a 10ish min/mile pace. Today I did 4 sets of a 200m jog, and I was able to complete my workout (I’m doing Emily Schromm’s 6-week Burn workout). Now, I can feel that slight discomfort in the same place when I’m just walking around. I think on Monday, I’ll try to run a mile and see how that feels. I’m anxious to start running again because I have some pretty big goals I want to reach this year, but I’m trying to be smart about properly recovering.

I’m thankful I already qualified for Boston 2019, because my husband and I definitely want to go back and experience marathon weekend again! It’s a race that deserves your best effort, and although I feel like I did the best I could this year, I trained for better and I am going to do better next year. Hopefully next time, we’ll have better weather.