Final Push
As expected, my one-hour sports massage Thursday provided welcome physical replenishment as my Boston Marathon debut beckons. But to my surprise, I also received a touch of spiritual rejuvenation as I walked the mile from the massage center to the Sheraton Boston Hotel, my base of operations for the race Monday.
On Newberry St. a few blocks from the finish of the race at Copley Square, The Church of the Covenant displayed a sign that read, “Run the Good Race. Blessing of the Runners. 10:30 a.m.”
Clever marketing or sincere support? In the spirit of the event, I’ve chosen the latter.
Another quarter mile into my walk, as the sunset radiated a fading and soothing light on the Square, I spotted another inspirational message provided by the Old South Church in Boston on Boylston St. adjacent to the finish area. It read, “If you want to run a mile, run a mile. If you want to experience a different life, run a marathon.” It credited Emil Zatopek, the Czechoslovakian runner who won the 5,000 meters, 10,000 meters and the marathon at the 1952 Helsinki Olympics.
I expect to enjoy a rare lifetime experience in my first marathon on Monday, and to be reminded about a part of my life that brought forth many of the same feelings as I expect from the marathon.
More than a quarter century ago, for about an eight-year period through high school and college, running consumed my life. At the University of Maryland, I managed to be a decent half-miler (1:49) at a top national program. My college experience yielded many fond memories, not all of them fluffy. But even the harsh moments were well worth the time, contributing to invaluable lessons in life.
In a more condensed time frame, I hope that my attempt to complete the Boston Marathon on April 21 will yield similar memories. And as I am embedded in middle age, I have embraced this time as a revivalist venture.
Notice that my goal is to complete this marathon. I harbor no grand illusions about my intent. My purpose is to produce insightful commentary during the race while running, take some pictures and compose a grand collection of thoughts and images for a post-race essay. I plan to run as much of the race as possible, and, allotting for stops to blog and snap photos, finish comfortably in less than five hours.
The best barometer I can use is my 18-mile run as part of the third leg of the Himalayas 100-Mile Ultramarathon, an event I covered as a journalist in 2004. I ran part of the full marathon stage, 80 percent of which flowed 5,000 feet downhill through the Indian mountainside with Mount Everest peaking through the clouds in the distance.
In Boston, I want to have fun while embracing the physical challenge. And I’ve tried to approach my training with that in mind.
A few primary factors have enhanced my training pleasures this time around compared to college. No more than 100 yards stretches from my front door to access what must be one of the most glorious natural running facilities on the planet; the comfortably surfaced Washington & Old Dominion Trail, which stretches almost 45 miles from urban Arlington, VA just across the river from Washington, D.C. to rural Purcellville, VA.
I live near the 38-mile mark, a portion that for several miles in each direction includes canopy-like tree cover, a cinder and packed dirt horse trail and minimal recreational congestion. This recreational respite elevated my interest in running a few years ago, and its relatively forgiving surface has undoubtedly prolonged my years moving with some pace on my feet.
Before my enhanced training to complete Boston began in late February, I ran from two to five miles a few times a week mostly alone on that trail with my dogs. They were times of personal sanctuary for me, allowing for adrenaline-filled times of reflection.
But the Boston challenge gave me a goal that compelled a more urgent sense of purpose. I reached out to a neighbor, Tom, who has run dozens of marathons and for a time lived in Boston and hung out with Bill Rodgers and his boys when they all worked at running stores in the early 80s.
We ran together twice a week, including the long runs that can condemn a sane mind to near insane tendencies if done alone. Two coworkers also running in Boston described the difficult details of their long solo ventures. My long runs, which peaked at 15 miles, were a relative jog in the park, thanks in large part to the camaraderie and chatter that quickly passed the minutes along.
Tom and I also ran the National Half Marathon together and we turned it into a social call. We joked with other runners, thanked policeman lining the streets and encouraged the sparse pockets of spectators to cheer us on. I finished in a surprisingly comfortable 1:48.
I’m hoping the Boston Marathon on Monday can come close to matching that experience. Considering its character, I’d be surprised if it does not.
I expect running double the distance will cause more physical discomfort than the half marathon. In times of difficulty, I will summon thoughts from college of gut-wrenching and workouts to remind myself that I survived them and to convince myself that I can endure whatever physical challenge that confronts me.
And I can call on some more inspirational words provided by the Old South Church near Copley Square. A banner that hung from the entrance to the large, Gothic structured offered the following passage: “May you run and not grow weary, walk and not faint.” Isaiah 40:27-31.
Amen.