Mike's Marathon Blog

I apologize for the large gap between blog posts. It has been two weeks since Marathon Monday and to be honest, I really haven’t done much of anything since. I needed a little break from everything marathon-related including marathon blogs and running.

Anyway, back to the race. Miles 9 through 11 were a bit boring. It’s probably the quietest stretch of the entire course. Plus, I had been running for over an hour and a half at this point, so the nerves and the excitement had disappeared for the most part. As we approached mile 12, we all knew what was is store for us. And if you weren’t aware, the giant Adidas sign that read ‘Can You Hear Them Yet?’ must have raised a red flag that something out of the ordinary was up ahead.

The ‘scream tunnel’ is where the girls of Wellesley College watch the race and believe me, you can hear them from at least a half mile away. The mile or so stretch as you pass Wellesley College is by far the most entertaining section of the course. And they don’t call it the ‘scream tunnel’ for nothing. You can barely hear yourself think it is so loud because the girls literally scream and ring cowbells the entire time……..the entire time! And if you’re thinking to yourself, ‘funny, they never show that part of the race on TV?.’ Well, there is a reason for that. To parents of Wellesley College students: do not come visit your sweet, innocent daughter on this day.

If there are 500 signs being held, 495 of them say the word ‘kiss’ on them. What comes before and after ‘kiss’ varies from girl to girl. ‘Kiss Me, I’m Irish’, ‘Kiss Me, I’m Italian’, ‘Kiss Me, I’m a Girl’, ‘Kiss Me, I’m ____.’ You get the idea.  And if you’re a guy (or some times a girl) and wandered too close to the fence where the girls were standing, you were swallowed up like a cheeseburger on Kirstie Alley’s dinner plate. They would literally rip you over the fence and do to you exactly what their sign said.

Pace girl and I were laughing and admiring the guys that were willingly running too close to the fence. One guy beside us must have kissed every third or fourth girl he ran by. It’s like these chicks were trapped in a chastity cave for the entire school year and only let out on Patriot’s Day. We were almost to the end and decided to at least slap a hand or two. Bad idea. As soon as my feet drifted to the right of the double yellow line, they were in attack mode. ‘MIKE!! Get over here!!!’ ‘Kiss me!!!!!!!’ I slapped a hand and sprinted back to the middle. I wonder how many runners ‘disappear’ in the scream tunnel every year?

After Wellesley college, the race was a giant blur. My sister came to see me in Wellesley Center, which is exactly the halfway point. She was holding a big Greek flag, which was extremely easy to spot in a crowd of a few hundred people. The biggest Children’s viewing section was about a mile after I saw my sister. Many of the patients from the hospital and their families gathered in front of the same church where we met every Saturday morning. It was pretty cool running by and slapping the kids’ hands. These were literally the people we were doing this for and it looked like the were having the time of their lives that day.

My stomach was absolutely killing me. I told pace girl to take off just before the 95 overpass. I couldn’t keep up and was needing to stop at far more water stations than planned. Since water was the only thing I could get down for the past 2 hours or so, I was starting to get tired. And of course, just as I was starting to hit ‘the wall’, the first Newton Hill was in sight. I’m not going to lie, the hills were brutal and I thought Heartbreak was never going to end.

I was in serious pain halfway up and the only thing that got me to the top was hearing ‘Mike, you are doing this for my kids.’ That was awesome. I was running so slow at that point, it seemed like it took me 10 minutes to pass the lady, but hearing that was definitely inspiring.

After Heartbreak, you are greeted by almost all 9,000 undergrads at BC. I gotta say, they gave the Wellesley College girls a run for their money. They were loud and crazy and what differed between the 2 crowds? There was a fence in front of the sidewalk in Wellesley. I seriously felt like Lance Armstrong in the Tour de France running through Chestnut Hill. The entire road was now narrowed down to maybe a 5-foot path and you could easily slap hands on both sides at the same time. The police were pushing them back, but they wanted nothing to do with it. They were rowdy and dozens of Eagle fans would be chanting a runners’ name simultaneously until they passed. Running through the sea of yellow Super Fan tees, I remembered a word of advice from one of the coaches before we exited the bus in Hopkinton. He said ‘do NOT take a red Solo cup from anyone on the course. It will not be water or Gatorade, trust me.’

Coming down the other side of Chestnut Hill, I ran into a good friend of mine who was working at a first aid station. She kept saying ‘you’re almost there, you’re almost there’ and I started thinking ‘wow, I still have about a half hour to go.’ I knew my friends and family were at Kenmore and that is the only thing I thought about for the next 3 miles. As I approached the city, the crowds just kept getting bigger and bigger. And really from mile 1, the spectators kept getting drunker and drunker as we ran. Even after 26 miles, I felt better than every single one of my friends on Tuesday.

After over4 hours of running, I was finally approaching Kenmore Square and more importantly, the finish line. As I crossed the Mass Pike overpass, I saw a large group of friends including Jacky. It was incredible. I felt like I just won the World Series. I could barely lift my arms to high-five them. Jacky actually jumped on the course and ran with me for the next half mile or so. A ways down, she directed me to the other side of the street where my family and more of my friends were awaiting my arrival. I passed a few more friends on my way down Beacon and at this point, I could smell the paint of the finish line. As we took the right on Hereford, Jacky said good-bye and told me she would see me in the family meeting section afterward.

The famous left onto Boylston…….this was it! The final turn and the last 385 yards of the race. I was now running down the middle of Boylston Street in Boston. No cars. Just me, the road and thousands of screaming spectators. I saw one more friend and mustered the very last of my energy to run over to him and slap his hand. 150 yards later, I crossed the finish line. I just ran the Boston Marathon!

And amazingly after running 26.2 miles, the BAA makes you walk about 8 blocks to exit the course. First there’s a block of water bottles, then a block of Gatorades, then a block of snacks. I wanted nothing to do with any of this. I wanted to vomit at the sight of every bagel and just needed to get out! Of course during this whole time, runners are diving into the hundreds of wheelchairs lining the sidewalk and making their way into any available first aid tent for much needed TLC. After about 15 minutes of walking (oh and don’t forget the 266 minutes of running), I finally made my way to  the ‘P’ section, where my dad and sister were waiting for me.

I was weak and light-headed, so we sat on a bench for a few minutes. My sister had a bag of chocolate chips and since I still felt too sick to eat, I swallowed them whole. I was drinking them with water, like Tylenol, just to get some sugar in me. We waited for Jacky and headed to the Westin Copley where my team was meeting.

We picked up my bag, sat and had a Pepsi, thanked some of the staff and started the trek to Eastern Standard. We saw a few more Children’s runners on the course as we were walking down Beacon. This time I was happy to be on the other side of the fence. Inside Eastern Standard were about 20 family members and friends. It was a great ending to a great day. Everyone ate and drank and ate and drank some more. I was double-fisting a Pepsi and a water the entire time. Finally at 8:30, we took a cab to the car and headed home. I took a much needed ice bath and ate a bagel with melted cheese, the first thing I consumed in over 12 hours. It was a long day and surely one that I will never forget.