Boston - April 2005

While we arrived in Boston Wednesday night, we didn't pull out the digital camera until Friday afternoon.  The photographic record doesn't show our trolley car tour of Boston on Thursday, our visit to Beacon Hill and the beginning of the Freedom Trail, our trip to Hopkinton (the town where the race starts) on Friday morning, nor our tour of the MIT Media Lab on Friday afternoon.

Our story begins shortly after we arrived on the campus at Harvard.  We had hoped to gain entry to the main library to view the Gutenberg Bible, but security was such that we were unable to do so.  While discussing among ourselves our options, a woman asked, "Did I hear you need some help?"  This was such a common theme throughout our trip!  Bostonians were consistently friendly, helpful and outgoing.  In this case, she gave us a guided tour of the campus while she took us to see the Economics library, where she was librarian.

At right is the entrance arch to Sever Hall.  Ken, at left, is whispering to Dave, at the right.  Rachel, in the middle, can't hear a thing they say!

There's also a seat, painted red, where the longest home run ever hit in the park - by Ted Williams - crashed through the straw hat of a Yankees fan and knocked some sense into him:  he then began rooting for the Red Sox.

Following the trail for the afternoon, we ended up at the USS Constitution, "Old Ironsides."  Our guide, who looked about 14 years old, was actually US Navy sailor.  The ship is the oldest commissioned warship still afloat, and is still considered "active" -  the navy takes her out to sea a few times each summer.

Far right - Karen and Rachel in a "girls pose" back on the Harvard campus.

The family behind included another first time Boston marathon runner, and their son had run in a previous race.  They told me to be sure to write my name on my jersey - that way the crowds would cheer me by name!

At right: Manny Ramirez hit a grand slam on this pitch.  His wife and son were in the seats a few rows in front of us, and he gave them a little wave as he walked off the field.  The Red Sox beat Tampa Bay 6 - 2.

The next order of business was to pick up my race bib and packet at the Hynes Convention Center.  The organization was superb - even with the huge number of participants, registration only took a few minutes, and the volunteers were wonderful (note the smiles).  We spent a few minutes in the exposition buying some memorabilia - now that was crowded.

Karen took the picture at right of me at the finish line.  I figured I'd look a lot better then than I would crossing Monday afternoon.

After a pasta dinner Sunday night, Karen, Rachel and Ken dropped me off in Hopkinton.  I had expected to stay in a hotel 5 miles away in Framingham, but during our scouting of the marathon route, we stopped for breakfast at The Golden Spoon outside Hopkinton.  Our waitress noticed my jacket, and asked if I was running.  It turned out her mother, Jean, sometimes opens her home to runners the night before the race, and offered me a place to stay four blocks from the starting line.  What a miracle!

Jean's two cats invaded my room and inspected all my race apparel.  Jean was a wonderful hostess - she even asked if I'd like a bacon and egg breakfast before the race (no, but some orange juice was appreciated).  It was the most rested I'd ever been before a marathon.

Pride goeth before a fall:  Throughout the week, I'd been feeling pretty bullish about my chances.  I had trained well, and my only concern, a sore heel, had healed.  When we drove the route, I felt like Heartbreak Hill was a molehill compared to Hurricane Point in Big Sur.  I was all set to beat my last year's qualifying time of 3 hours 45 minutes, and was hoping for maybe a time in the 3:30's.  So my cheerleaders were looking for me around a 3:40 time...

Monday dawned sunny and warm (that's bad).  While walking the four blocks from Jean's house to the race, I doffed my sweats.  John Kerry was the official starter - I walked right past him on the way to my starting corral.  We heard the opening gun over the PA system, since we were several blocks from the starting line.  After about five minutes we began to move, and I crossed the starting line (left) twelve minutes after the gun.  My bib number (13927) meant I was almost the 14000th runner to start, and that was based on my qualifying time.

In a marathon, it's easy to start to fast.  To meet my 3:45 goal, I would need to average running each mile in 8 minutes 30 seconds. I did my best in the first few to hold back to 8 minute miles.  The energy was incredible, with people cheering almost all the way.  But the warm weather was already having its effect - the bottom of both my big toes were getting sore.  Would they be killing me by the end?

Above right is the 10 kilometer (about 6 1/4 mile) mark.  A "chip" in the laces of my shoe was detected by the mat, and transmitted to the internet so people could track my progress.  Note the big smile - I was running well then.  Keeping an 8:07 mile pace, I had almost three minutes "in the bank" ahead of my 8:30 target pace.  My feet were no more sore than earlier, and my heel was giving me no problems.  Maybe I could break 3:40!  Below left shows me passing through one of the small towns in the first half of the race, still feeling strong and enjoying the crowds and the cheers.

Heartbreak Hill is the crux of the Boston Marathon.  Most of the course is pretty level, a lot is actually slightly downhill.  So when at mile 20 the route climbs a couple hundred feet, it presents a challenge.  Though only a third the height and steepness of Big Sur's Hurricane Point, Heartbreak hits later in the race.

Since about mile 16, my pace had been flagging, and although the climb up Heartbreak Hill wasn't a killer, it pushed my pace slower still.  I was hurting - my fingers were beginning to lose feeling in them, and my vision was beginning to tunnel.  As I started down the back side of Heartbreak Hill, I failed to pick up my pace, and realized that I wasn't going to make my goal of a 3:45 finish time.  The photo below left must have been taken about that time.

It's difficult to describe all the thoughts and feelings that occur during a marathon run.  I considered giving up, just stopping and walking the rest of the race.  There was a moment I just wanted to stop, curl up, and go to sleep.  I knew I was getting dehydrated, but I was afraid if I stopped and walked I would never get started again.  What about Ken, Rachel and Karen waiting to see me near the finish line?  Eventually, I realized that I needed to walk for a while, and with great effort, slowed down and broke my gait.  The crowds were cheering, "You can do it, Dave!"  Somebody shouted "Are you OK?" and I nodded my head.  After about three minutes, my vision widened, and I felt stronger.  Slowly, I began to run again.  More cheers.

I walked through the next water stop and drank a full cup of water and another of Gatorade, then ran again.  The stop after that, another Gatorade.  I felt better - I could do it - finish, at least.  Starting and stopping is very difficult - my legs would get twinges in the muscles, and I had to be careful not to exert or a cramp would painfully tear the muscle.  You can see my determination in the photo below center, taken at about mile 25.  Near the very end of the race, in the photo below right, we round the final turn and can see the finish line a few hundred yards ahead.  I know Ken, Rachel and Karen must be in the crowd somewhere, but I have only enough energy to put my eyes on the finish line and press onward.

Using the latest technology, my progress as sent by the "chip" in my shoe was routed to Ken and Karen's cell phones.  They got a message that my start time was 12:04.  Unfortunately, that sounded like I started 4 minutes after noon, in other words 4 minutes into the race.  So they were expecting me in the 3:40 to 3:50 timeframe based on my confident outlook.

Ken, Karen and Rachel managed to get a decent view of the end of the race, until the guy in front of them stood up (right).  They kept watch until about 4:00, when they began to think they might have missed me.  They were just about to split up, and send somebody to see if I had already finished, when Ken saw somebody who looked like me in the corner of his eye.  He turned and saw it was me.  They yelled and cheered, but I was gone too quickly to get a photo.  I had missed them, and crossed the finish line (below left) at 4:06:21.  Based on my start, my net time for the race was 3:54:17.

Above right - my color begins to come back after a couple of pints of water and a little food.  It will still be a while before I can stand up.

Right:  Which one ran the marathon earlier in the day?

After a long soak in the tub, we celebrated with a seafood dinner, then limped back to the hotel.

Below left, Ken and Dave sit next to the bay in Provincetown at the tip of Cape Cod.  At center below is the beach at low tide.  The sand slope is so gentle that the sea recedes for most of a mile, leaving trenches of water interspersed with stripes of sand bar.  We had not seen anything like it before.  We arrived in Provincetown just a few minutes too late to climb the Pilgrim Monument, so we had to be content with taking a photo of the sign, with Ken and Dave in their "Vanna" poses.

Our last bit of sightseeing was on the ocean side of the tip of Cape Code, where we saw this huge flock of sea birds.  Viewing with binoculars, we could see them dive downward, pulling their wings tight to their side, and hit the water with a big splash.  Dozens were doing this at once, apparently following a school of fish below.

Love,

Karen and Dave