The Real Adventure Begins

Now, remember Alison? You know, the friend I failed to connect with at the Athlete’s Village because I chose not to carry a cell phone for the race? Well, in reality she could kick my ass in a marathon every day of the week, and twice on Sundays. Unfortunately, the injury bug caught her in late March, and she could barely walk, no less run without pain for the weeks leading up to race day. But if you know Alison at all, nothing was going to keep her from the start line this year. Partly because she is a little insane, but mostly because it was THIS YEAR!! (For a little context: she completed last year's race and was collecting her gear a few blocks past the finish when the bombs exploded). Since I run slow enough these days, we decided to try and run together because my pace might just take enough stress off the injury to get to the finish. Oops, so much for that plan!

As it turns out, it takes me approximately the 9 miles to Fisk Pond to catch up with someone that is basically running on one good foot. When I spotted her in the crowd, she was already making friends with others taking a break from running to soak in the atmosphere. I knew if she wasn't running, she was probably in a heck of a lot pain. I'll admit, I was skeptical of anyone attempting to finish the final 17 miles of a marathon in that amount of pain. Did I mention Alison was a little bit insane?

After the initial surprise of finding each other in the crowd wore off, we revisited the original game plan and started to break the race down into digestible pieces. We were right around the 15K marker, which meant we were "only 27K from the finish." For some reason that sounded better at the time than 17 miles to go, but it became a recurring theme the rest of the day. There's also a photo op just past 9 miles, and no one wants to be walking in an official Boston Marathon photo. That became the first challenge:

Most people do a much better job of looking at the cameras!
You would think I was the one in pain, not Alison.

After a mile or so, we took a break, drank some Gatorade, and looked for the next challenge. The crowd on this stretch of the course was amazing. As we entered Natick Center, it was like being at Fenway Park when the Yankees were in town. They were roaring for everyone that came through, and we couldn't help but run through town. That was the first time I was ever compelled to yell back at the crowd, "NATICK IS AWESOME!" How many times have you ever heard someone say that and mean it? I think that's also the same time I stopped mocking Alison for killing my steady 9:30 pace.

A few more starts and stops, and we were barreling down on the scream tunnel of Wellesley College. I remember the adrenaline rush I received in 2009 while running through this stretch just before the half way point. No, it's not because of the hundreds of undergrads from a female-only school who apparently never get out except on Marathon Monday, but it's the out of this world vocal support they provide to the throngs of runners. I'm still kicking myself for not getting a few kisses from the ladies, but I think Alison and I both high-fived every single hand that was outstretched over the railing. Within a couple minutes, we'd be half way home.

Don't turn me into the AP for stealing this photo.

Next chapter: We Don't Walk Up Hills