Report by Guy Larson
Guy, sporting the latest in BoSox spring attire!!!
Some were calling it “The Monsoon Marathon”, but I like to refer to it as “Passing Wind in Bean-town”………………
In the days leading up to the race I received several emails from the BAA warning the runners about the conditions and the threat of hypothermia, etc. I brought every possible combination of running gear to make sure I was prepared for any condition on race day. As I was packing to leave for the bus on race morning I filled out my emergency contact information on my race bib and left it on the desk in the hotel room. In case I fell over out there, I wanted them to be the one to call my wife. I was so concerned about bringing extra everything, I forgot my race number. On the way to the start in Hopkinton, I realized I did not have it. Luckily, they were able to issue me the same number on a different bib.
The two hours before the race in the Athletes Village seemed like a week. Once the Mobility Impaired Athletes start you get into position and say to yourself, “lets get this party started”. At the start of the race it was 45 degrees and a 30mph headwind. The excitement builds, the gun goes off, and you travel at a shuffle for the next 7 minutes until you get to the official starting line. From there, the first mile is the deepest decent on the course, and it helped me get into my rhythm. The sign at mile 4 that said “22 miles to Boston” did not bother me at all.
The first 14 miles I felt great, and I was running the race of my life. The crowds lined the streets despite the conditions, and it really helps keep you going. The girls at Wellesley College are on both sides of the street, and they literally scream for you to make it. I made it through the 4 hills of Newton without a walk break and Heartbreak Hill did not break my heart this year. Don’t get me wrong my heart and mind were having a real conversation with my lungs and legs. All I know is when I topped the hill and saw the Prudential Tower I thought I had found God.
There is nothing like coming down Boylston Street to the finish line of the Boston Marathon. The crowd support and the organization of the race spoil you for any other marathon. My finishing time was 4 minutes slower than last year and my slowest marathon time to date. In my heart I feel I ran the race of my life.
We know your name Guy...Cheers!!!
I won’t go into a whole lot of detail about the remainder of the day. Except I must say, “Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name”. Cheers Boston!!
Proud TATUR,
Guy Larson