It's Not (Just) About The Hills.

This post is to appear in the April 2012 edition of The Wingfoot, the newsletter of GBTC

One of my favorite Boston Marathon quotes is from Fatuma Roba, who won
Boston three times starting in 1997. After her first win, she said
something like "I was told there was a hill, but I didn't find it."
While it's true that Heartbreak Hill is no Mount Washington, most
mortals do notice the series of hills that begin at about mile 16 and
finish at the top of Heartbreak around mile 21.

I have run Boston only twice: the first time was in 1994, a day
similar to 2011, with cool temperatures and a tailwind helping Cosmos
Ndeti and Uta Pippig to course records that would stand for many
years. My experience was very different from theirs (although the
forgettable PR I set in 1994 did stand until 2007). I was completely
focused on getting to the top of Heartbreak Hill, figuring that if I
could get to the top in decent shape, I would coast down the gentle
slope to the finish with ease.

I really had no problem getting up Heartbreak, but once I was on the
top, it was like a switch had been flipped. I had a classic hitting
the wall experience, and the final 5 miles were a nightmare of jogging
and walking and watching my goal time go out the window. I crossed the
line saying "I never want to do that again".

I have told that story to countless people over the years, and my
advice has always been: don't forget that those last 5 miles of any
marathon are hard, and the last 5 at Boston even more so. Make sure
you are ready to work harder after Heartbreak than at any other point
in the race - and that includes getting up Heartbreak. The funny thing
is that I almost failed to take my own advice when I finally came back
to run Boston the second time, in 2008.

After my 1994 disappointment, I did one more marathon in 1996, which
went even worse (don't ask), and then swore off marathons for a
decade. Finally in 2007 I embarked on a proper training plan,
compiled with input from Tom Derderian, many GBTC team-mates, and the
great book by former GBTC member Pete Pfitzinger, "Advanced
Marathoning". I also paid a lot of attention to pre-race nutrition,
guided by my expert partner Christy and the wisdom of Nancy Clark. At
Philadelphia I not only lowered my PR by 19 minutes (to 2:46), I
finally ran a marathon without hitting the wall. My last 5 miles were
the hardest of the race, but they were no slower than the first 21,
and felt much like the last couple of miles of a half-marathon. OK, I
thought, train properly, eat right, avoid the wall, it's that easy. On
to Boston 2008.

My leadup to Boston didn't go quite as well as the previous Fall, with
a bit of time off for injury and illness, but I came into the race
with a solid half-marathon tune-up and having hit most of my training
targets. Figuring that the 2007 Philly marathon was pretty close to perfect
(including great weather and a mostly flat course), my pre-race plan
for Boston was to go no faster than 2:47 pace for the first half. Once
the excitement and steep drop of the first couple of miles were behind
me, I settled into that pace and held it for about 15 miles. The steep
downhill coming into Newton Lower Falls - around mile 16 - was the
first sign that Boston might be a different race than Philly, as I
felt some pretty serious soreness developing in my quads. But then it
was into the infamous Newton hills, heading up to Heartbreak, and the
quads relaxed.

I felt strong all the way up to the top of Heartbreak, and chatted
with a running acquaintance who was doing his first Boston. "All
downhill from here, right?" he said. I gave him my usual advice -
expect it to get hard after you crest the hill. Those words were
hardly out of my mouth as I started down past B.C. to the "haunted
mile" when I realized that this was advice I still needed to hear
myself. Once again I felt a switch had been flipped and I couldn't
imagine maintaining any sort of decent pace for the next 5 miles. I
really wanted to start to jog it in or worse, and it was clear that
this was not going to be at all like the end of Philly. I was hitting
the wall, and I was going to have to deal with it. Two thoughts formed
in my head: first was "listen to your own advice" and the second was
"this is what you trained for all winter, don't throw it all away
now."

I got a little mental lift at the next mile split as I had actually
made good time down back of Heartbreak, but still 4.2 miles to go and
the course is essentially undulating from there on. My quads were
getting sore again, and no part of me felt good. I just focused
on getting to the GBTC cheering squad at mile 24, figuring I had to
pretend to look good there at least. The sea of cheering red at
Coolidge Corner did lift me for about 30 seconds or so, then on to
Kenmore. I was just trying to get to the last mile and hoping I could
keep it together from there. Finally I made the turn onto Boylston St
and I wished I had remembered how many blocks I had to cover to the
finish - it looked implausibly far away (note: it's about 3 blocks).

And then, with the finish in sight, my quads essentially stopped
working altogether. Video footage shows me wobble and fall forwards,
and I remember thinking - well, time to crawl as fast as I can. A few
"steps" later I decided to try to get vertical again and I was able to
walk across the line. That whole crawl-walk episode took only 15
seconds to cover the last few feet - just as well the marathon isn't,
say, 26.3 miles. I managed just to break 2:50, a barrier I was pretty
happy to get under (and still 16 minutes better than what my
30-year-old self had done in '94).

So, it's really not hard to run well at Boston. Train well, eat right,
pace yourself correctly, and be ready to talk yourself through some
tough times in the last 5 miles. Crawl if necessary. You might want to
practice your downhill running. Just don't expect the racing to be
done when you get past the top of Heartbreak.