“Boston City and its people stole my heart, while Boston marathon stole my legs.” Carmen Micsa, aka ninja
Before Marathon – Exploring Boston
What I love most about out of state marathons is the exploration of the city. I feel that the energy, excitement, and the pure spiritual aura of a city unveils to us runners from all over the world in a unique light that shimmers inside our souls and sticks to our memories forever. However, after having run Chicago and New York City world marathons in 2018, which I totally relished and treasured, I feel that the Bostonians are the friendliest, the most invested in their marathon, and welcomed us runners with open arms and hearts.
My first day in Boston was taken by the Expo and by exploring Boston Common, the oldest park in the United States dating back to 1634. The history, the brick buildings, the friendly people all welcomed me, making me grateful and honored to run my eighth marathon, but my very first Boston.
On Sunday before the Boston marathon, which is the oldest continuously running marathon, I was excited to run down Boylston Street to the finish line to do my easy shakeout run. My Airbnb apartment was a little less than a mile away from the finish line and only a quarter mile from the buses taking us to the start line. My good friend Kaoru Cruz who had run Boston the previous year told me about the blessing of the athletes at the Old South Church, so I was excited to get my run in first and then go to church. To my great joy, many of my Sacramento runner friends were also by the finish line, strolling and taking pics.
Following my short run with a few strides, I had a bagel with hash brown potatoes. A few minutes before 11 a.m., when the second blessing of the athletes happened, I went to Old South Church – my soul already elated and humbled to be there.
Before the service started, we were all given a palm leaf. In John 12:12, the crowds used palm leaves to greet and welcome Jesus as the king of Israel. I sat next to a lovely lady, who lived right outside of Boston on her own and who immediately started talking to me about the marathon and treated me like a celebrity. Once the service started, I felt the sacredness of Palm Sunday, surrounded by the people of Boston and other marathoners like me from all over the world. The service was touching with special prayers and wishes for us, such as “May you mount up with wings like eagles. May you run and not grow weary. May you walk and not faint,” but what got me was the special hymn for the runners entitled Guide My Feet.
As we all started to sing this hymn that went like this: “Guide my feet while I run this race, (yes, my Lord!) for I don’t want to race this race in vain! Hold my hand while I run this race, I’m your child while I run this race, Search my heart while I run this race,” I wept uncontrollably. I sang and cried. A purifying and cathartic sobbing and crying that percolated all the way to my runner’s core. My new friend consoled me and held me around the shoulders in a maternal embrace. At the time, I just thought I was emotional, but after the marathon, I interpreted my weeping as a foreboding sign to the tough marathon awaiting for me that would fully challenge my physical and mental abilities.
The Morning of the Race
On Patriots Day, the morning of the marathon, I woke up to a roaring thunder and stormy fickle New England weather. The dark clouds floating in the sky, reminded me of Haruki Muraki’s quote in his memoir What I Talk About When I talk About Running that clouds always come and go, but we can always count on the permanence and immanence of the sky. While I was getting dressed and prepared my bag with my good Nike Flyknit shoes, I checked the weather app. It looked that the rain would be over by the time I started at 10:50 a.m. wave 3, corral 2. Nonetheless, I wore my bad shoes that I was going to discard at the start line and a disposable weather poncho.
The ride to the start line took about an hour. Once we got to the Athletes Village, I lined up to use the porta potty. It was muddy, so I was glad I wore my bad shoes that I was going to discard right as we started to walk to the start line. After going to the bathroom twice, I ate half a bagel and then they called wave three, blue bibs to start walking. It was happening and I needed to go to the bathroom again, but I was told there were porta potties right before the start line, so I was relieved.
The Race
Before I knew it, I crossed the start line at Hopkinton to run my first Boston marathon. As my wonderful coach Jenny Hitchings, warned me, the first three miles of the marathon were quite busy and I was not able to hit even the 8-minute pace that she suggested for my race strategy, but I was around 8:10 minute pace. I refrained from weaving around people, as I wanted to conserve energy. I was also told that the first six miles were downhill, but I found out quite the opposite. After about half a mile, a long hill loomed in front of us. A gentleman running next to me joked and asked me: “Is this Heartbreak hill?” I laughed, but I was already put off by the early hills. I could also see runners in front of me trying to get into a rhythm and go around other runners. It was also hard for me to hit my 7:50 to 8 minute pace right from the start of the race, which never happens to me; quite the contrary, I have to hold myself back, because it feels so good to run. At the 5K point, I was only 1 minute off from what Jenny wanted me to hit, so I reassured myself that I would soon get into my groove and my 7:50 splits should come to me, as they always did in my training, which has been solid due to the outstanding guidance and support of my coach.
The spectators lined up on both sides of the rural towns we ran through from Hopkinton to Ahsland first. I high fived many kids cheering for us and thought to myself that by the 10K mark I should be on track. However, as we kept running through the next town of Framingham, I kept noticing more and more hills and hardly any downhill. My pace by the 10K mark deteriorated, but I kept on running and smiling. I was looking forward to hit the half marathon mark. I noticed quite a few churches on our way and the spectators who cheered on us from the side of the road, from balconies and anywhere they could find a spot to show their enthusiasm for us and supporting us the same way crowds in Chicago and New York City world marathons did.
The heat and humidity were a factor for us runners. I felt sluggish and knew I had to stay on top of my hydration and fueling. I took more Huma gels than I normally would to be strong and not get cramps. As soon as I hit the half marathon mark by Wellesley, I was 10 minutes off my recommended pace. I had to acquiesce that I would have to dig deep to finish my first Boston marathon and that it was not going to be a PR day for me. I was starting to feel my glutes lock up on me and not allowing me to run smoothly, which is why I almost missed the super enthusiastic and loud cheering from the Wellesley college students, but then I saw runners stopping for kisses and remembered my friends who told me about this incredible experience. I did not go for a kiss, but tried to use the crowds’ energy and good vibes to continue running and smiling.
My pace kept getting slower into the 9s. At this time, I only hit one GMP mile at 7:55 pace, which was unusual for me, as I perform much better in races than in training. My left calf muscle was tight and tense. My running felt labored. I even had to do a short walk on Heartbreak Hill. I ended up walking for a very short distance three times during this marathon, which had never happened to me in any other marathons I had previously run.
The crowds kept cheering for us loudly, but at this point, it wasn’t working for me, as I was in deep pain and mad on this crazy Boston marathon course. I told myself that I would never come back and that one time running this iconic race is more than enough. My emotions during the race matched the New England weather: I vacillated between joy, smiling, waving to the spectators to talking to myself, hating the course, and not understanding why runners keep coming back to run Boston marathon. Between miles 16 to 21, I was in a dark place, not enjoying the marathon and wishing this torture to be over. My left calf kept putting its brakes on my running, so I understood that I had to be gentle on my body, while trying to adjust my stride and just move along at whatever pace my body allowed me to run that day.
The Finish Line
From miles 22 to the finish I just willed myself to keep moving. The majority of the miles were on flat terrain, but I was still exhausted and stopped one last time. I walked and cried. A very nice lady told me that we are almost done and gave me her hand. We ran hand in had for just a little bit till I stopped crying. I often get emotional running marathons, or ultras. The crowds kept cheering for us to propel us to the finish line. I tried to absorb their energy, but it didn’t work the same way as it did for me at New York City marathon in 2018. However, once I saw the big Citgo sign, a landmark for the Boston people associated with Kenmore Square and the Red Sox in the distance, I knew I was getting close. I could taste my victory of completing a tough marathon under warm and humid conditions.
The turn on Boylston Street was incredible and so was the purifying and cooling rain that had started. Most runners felt cheerful and spread their arms widely to welcome the rain that never felt better. I felt rejuvenated and tried to do my kick at the finish line. I crossed over the mat, not realizing that the race was over. I did it!
Post Boston Celebration and New Perspective on the Marathon
Right after the marathon, I walked back to my apartment wrapped in the shiny, silver thermal marathon blanket. To my surprise, my calf felt great now that I stopped abusing it. I knew that I was not injured and I was happy. My post Boston celebration included meeting with my awesome Arete team mates and our coach Mary Wright, my wonderful friend Robin Miotke, who happened to be in Boston, and my speedy and amazing friend Karen Clark. As I heard more marathon stories and how mostly everybody struggled that day, although some of our team mates ran super strong races and even got a personal record, I became more and more content and grateful with my finish and accomplishment.
The following day, I woke up with hardly any soreness, or pain, so I joked with my hubby, friends, and coach telling them that I apparently did not run hard enough out there. On my way to the airport, I was super happy to connect with my wonderful friend Karen Clark, whom I had met during a 20-mile race in preparation for the CIM marathon in 2016 and we had stayed great friends.
Final Thoughts, Reflections, and Advice on the Boston Marathon from Carmen, aka Ninja
- The hills are real and when I come back to run Boston, I will make sure to include a lot more hill training and even some close to GMP miles on hills. I had some great Boston simulation hilly long runs that my coach had me do and they were great. I also tried to do most of my easy runs on hills, but hitting long hills during a marathon between miles 16 to 21, when the body is already tired is tough.
- Last year before I ran Mountains 2 Beach, which is a much easier marathon, but still had some hills after the half marathon mark, I had run two hilly 50K races and one 50-mile race. I will not run Boston without doing at least one 50k race on the trails about 4 to 6 weeks out. Doing a 50-mile race like I did last year is a little much, but the 50K races will prepare my body and mind for those steep and long Newton hills.
- Doing more long runs on the trails will be ideal and key in my humble opinion, especially during January and February to build endurance and strength. This is especially important for me to do, as I constantly have glutes issues and experience pain during long runs and marathons.
- Using the sauna at the gym more often, as early spring weather can bring heat and humidity that our bodies are not used to.
- Doing two days of strength training, instead of one that I did this training cycle, two days of hot yoga/ Pilates a week on top of the regular running will make my body stronger and faster.
As this wonderful sign by the finish line of the Boston marathon says: “What gets you to the finish line?”
Once I had finished Boston Marathon, my gratitude level increased, and as this sign that I walked by on my way to the celebration dinner says, rebounding and resilience are one of the key lessons that we learn as runners and human beings. For these reasons I would like to dedicate this blog and the Boston marathon to my mom Cezarina Gramatic, who is quite resilient herself.
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