Running the Boston Marathon: Days Like These Are a Great Gift

For someone who began running in the 1970s, the Boston Marathon is the pinnacle of sport. It has been run since 1897, and was the only marathon of consequence until the NYC Marathon came of age in the late 1970s. And so every runner dreams of running the Boston Marathon once. But the qualifying standards are high, and for most runners it remains but a dream. However, when the race began to offer spots for runners who raise money for designated charities, I jumped at the chance, joining the Habitat for Humanity team.

The weather was ideal, in the 40s and cloudy. As my brother Matt drove me to the start in Hopkinton, I was more full of anticipation than I have ever been for a race. I met up with my Habitat teammates, who are as fine a group of people as you will ever meet, and shared mutual encouragement and then went to the starting line.

I ran with Brett Holey, director of NBC Nightly News. He is a veteran marathoner who has run some remarkable times, but his training was slowed by injuries. He was thrilled to have recovered enough to run, and was merely looking to finish. We ran a 21 mile practice run together 3 weeks earlier, and I mentioned my hope of running under 4 hours, which would be 18 minutes better than my previous record and nearly an hour faster than my best NYC Marathon 18 months ago. At dinner the night before the race, Brett offered to be my "rabbit," keeping me on pace to break 4:00, regardless of the effect it would have on his race. You don't meet many people like Brett.

We started at the rear, and it was extremely crowded for 3 miles. We hoped to run 8:20 for these downhill miles, but ran closer to 9:20. Brett's "zen like state" calmed me, where if I were alone I may have fought the situation, burning a lot of energy for little gain. The road finally opened up, and we picked up the pace. As congestion eased further and our legs loosened, I felt like a bird who had escaped the cage, and we accelerated from miles 6 to 11. I was running faster than I imagined I would, but the miles went by easy, so much so that I missed some of the mile markers.

After mile 12, we began to hear the thunderous roar of the Wellesley College "scream tunnel." It reminded me of approaching Niagara Falls; it was stunning to hear how loud it was from so far away. We hit the half on target, at 1:54, and I began to think a 3:55 finish was assured. Brett said I should feel no obligation to stay with him, and at mile 16 I told him I was going to take the downhill hard, and he fell a little behind me (happily, I later learned he finished very well). I sailed past Mile 17 and up the 2nd biggest hill on the course. I got to the top in good shape, and my confidence soared. But as I hit the next two smaller hills, they took far more out of me than I had expected. I realized that in fifth marathon, I had begun to take it for granted and had not carefully thought through my food and fluid intake. Adding in my zeal to overcome the slow start, I had not hydrated enough, had eaten nothing, and had very suddenly become weak, nauseous, dizzy and was cramping badly in my left leg. And this was at the bottom of Heartbreak Hill ! I had hit The Wall before, but never so suddenly, where in a half mile stretch I went from thinking a 3:55 finish was assured to wondering if I could even finish the last 6.2 miles.

Realizing I had no other means of transport, I walked quickly up the hill, inhaling every orange slice, pretzel, gummy bear and cup of water offered by the angels of mercy in the crowd. This strengthened me some, and the task ahead seemed easier at the top of the hill than it had at the bottom. I realized I could still break 4:00 if I could maintain a 9:35 pace, and this seemed achievable, given that I had run faster than 9:00 for 18 miles in a row. I gave it all I had for the next mile, but ran it in 10:00; I pressed even harder to mile 23, but again hit the marker in 10:00. I realized the cramping in my left leg and the resultant lack of fluidity was slowing me measurably. I realized that even if I could maintain the 10:00 pace, I would finish in 4:02, which would cause me to spend months analyzing how I could have gone 2 minutes faster. So I went into "safe mode," running moderately from mile marker to mile marker and walking through the water stations. Around the 24.5 mile mark, I suddenly felt compelled to stop. I walked a few yards trying to figure out what was wrong and finally concluded, like Forrest Gump eventually did, that I simply didn't want to run any more. But I had 1.7 miles to go, and put one foot in front of the other and repeated, and staggered to the finish line. My time was 4:04:58, disappointing considering how great I felt at Mile 19. And yet it was 13 minutes faster than prior best last November, and a lot better than I feared as I stood weak, dizzy and nauseous at Mile 20.

And then they hung around my neck a blue and gold medal that signified I had completed the Boston Marathon, which I had been dreaming about for 30 years. I realized that days like these are a great gift that should be cherished, with no energy squandered on rethinking what went wrong and slowed you for a few minutes.

And a smile came across my face that hasn't left since.

Well, except for when I walk down stairs.

Twenty, twenty, twenty four hours to go to the Boston Marathon

And yes, I wanna be sedated, before I go loco. The last weeks before a marathon are maddening. After 4 months in heavy training; you downshift, rest 2x a week and cut workouts back in intensity and duration. This is my 5th marathon, so I understand why, and yet I fret that the inactivity will haunt me in the race, even though my experience says it won't. Part of the anxiety stems from the fact that heavy training puts you in a steady zen state, and as you cut back, you come down off a high. And I want to start the race NOW, prove to myself I'm still fit enough, and get back that high. I feel good about my training and am hopeful for a good race, perhaps breaking four hours. This won't put me on any "top 100 finishers" list but would be a feat for me. As I wrote earlier this year, I ran around 5 hours in my first three marathons between 2004-07, and then decided to get more serious about my training. I added a boxing class to my routine, lost a lot of weight, and improved 35 minutes in the Philadelphia Marathon last November. I have continued to lose weight, add muscle, and run faster during my training runs, and any meaningful further improvement will be enough for me. Surprisingly, after training for two marathons 5 months apart, I am not broken down at all - physically I feel great, and mentally I'm even better - I'm actually thinking as much about future races as tomorrow's, and I know I can continue to improve a lot from here. I've benefited from participating on a charity fundraising team for Habitat for Humanity, one of my favorite causes, for which we are raising funds to buy foreclosed homes, rehabilitate them, and sell them on an affordable basis to first time buyers, thereby turning around entire neighborhoods. Though most of my teammates are from the Boston area, we've been emailing each other for four months and I met about half of them during a 21-mile practice run on the course last month, and we've supported each other quite a bit. Having a support network like this is crucial to the success of any ambitious training program.

FindingDulcinea's Redesign: Better than Facebook's

Facebook recently redesigned its homepage, and the results are overwhelming. ly. bad. In a poll, 94% of Facebook users preferred for the old homepage. Farhad Manjoo of Slate argues we'll learn to love it once we give it time, but I'm not of a mind to give it time, and many other users feel the same way. Heavy Internet users are adding new sites, tools and functionality to their repertoire every day. And Facebook friend requests I get from new members is skyrocketing. And each of these groups, when frustrated by a drastic, befuddling change that no one asked for (except Facebook executives envious of Twitter's growth), may be just as likely to largely abandon Facebook as they are to figure it all out again. At the very least, they'll react as my young niece did in this story: her family moved every year or two due to his career. Shortly after arriving in a new city, my brother tried to wake her for her first day of Kindergarten; she looked at him through sleepy eyes and said "naaah, I'll go to Kindergarten when we get to the next city." And that's how I feel about the new Facebook redesign; I'll figure out how to use the next one.

By contrast, the redesigned homepage of findingDulcinea has received nearly unanimous plaudits. True, most of the people I've asked work for the site, but we think you'll like it, too. We've significantly reduced the number of photos on the home page, as they made it difficult to concentrate attention on any one spot. And we've given more prominence, and more permanence, to our most popular features, On This Day and Happy Birthday. And we've invited Elvis Presley and Harry Houdini to help us launch it. Elvis sings "Unchained Melody" while Harry tries to unchain himself and leave the building before Elvis finishes the song. History addicts will be able to see a whole week of On This Day features as at a glance. Please check it out and let us know how you like it !

Three Simple Words: No More Excuses

Today's New York Times carries yet another article confirming the obvious: most of us fail to keep our New Year's Resolutions. This stokes our love affair with self-improvement reality shows, which chronicle the struggles of ordinary people trying to turn their lives around. For me, resolutions have always involved weight loss and fitness. For the past 8 years, I have exercised vigorously for half the year, losing a good deal of weight (though never quite enough) and running several marathons (slower than I would like). After each marathon, my exercise and nutritional zeal waned and I regained all the weight by the time I began marathon training again the next summer, and then did not quite meet my loss/exercise goals for the next marathon. I blamed shortcomings on the extraordinary demands the rest of my life posed, and took comfort in knowing that my conditioning was gradually improving as my marathon times slowly got better. And again last July I began serious training, heavier and less fit than I should have been. But this time, I lost 31 lbs, twice the usual drop, and ran my best marathon by 35 minutes. After 5 weeks of rest (sloth), I am back at it today. What changed this time ? There were many factors; for one, I previously wrote of how adding early morning cardio boxing workouts helped. But another major factor was a simple gesture by my friend Bill Germanakos, who won Season 4 of NBC's Biggest Loser by losing 167 lbs, or half his body weight, and has kept almost all of it off. After his win, Bill hit the lecture circuit, and at each stop he listened to sad people explain the litany of reasons they had not hit their goals. Finally, he put his arm around a man and said, "listen: No More Excuses." The man was startled, and began to cry and admit that all his "reasons" were really "excuses." And so Bill adopted this mantra, and even created some black bracelets imprinted with it, and gave me one. And nearly every time I found myself thinking "I should run tonight, but it's raining," I glanced at the bracelet, realized that I was making excuses, and set off on a long, soggy jog. I also adopted most of Bill and Jim's Nine Tips for Keeping Your Resolutions. Each of these is spot on. For instance, #1, making the resolution an integral part of your life means you don't let the demands of the rest of life always take precedence, which was critical for me. Creating a detailed plan (#4) for achieving your goal makes you set a realistic goal to begin with, and helps you track your progress. And perhaps most important of all, having a resolution buddy (#7) keeps you on track; two colleagues ran the marathon with me; one is the person who introduced me to boxing class and made it fun, and the other ran with me on the crucial mid-week long runs that I never found time for before. FindingDulcinea offers a lot more advice on keeping resolutions, including advice specific to the most common ones. As for me, a tenth tip that I would add is "Contentment is thy enemy." Getting half way to your goal can cause you to smugly ease up. This year, each time I felt that way, I doubled my effort. And, recognizing that if I don't go forward, I will surely go backward, I have resolved to lose the final extra 22 lbs I am carrying and improve yet another 35 minutes, to 3:43, when I run the Boston Marathon in April. There will surely be days I'll try to fashion an excuse to make choices inconsistent with this goal, and I can only hope that each time, I will look down at my black bracelet and read its three simple words.

Why We Do What We Do

Our On This Day today features the story of Roberto Clemente (click here). He had a Baseball Hall of Fame career for the Pittsburgh Pirates, highlighted by his remarkable MVP-earning heroics in the first World Series ever played at night in 1971. And he was just as solid on the social front, being active in so many causes in his native Puerto Rico, his adopted home city of Pittsburgh, and elsewhere in the world. So it was no surprise that Clemente chose to celebrate New Year's Eve in 1972 by collecting relief supplies for victims of an earthquake in Nicaragua and flying on the plane that was delivering them. Tragically, this gesture resulted in this noble figure being taken from us way too early, as the plane crashed on takeoff. My young son wears a t-shirt with Clemente's name and number on it; grown men stop him in the street with tears in their eyes as they speak admiringly of Clemente. I sent the story around to a slew of friends today; a few wrote back to say they remembered exactly where they were when they heard the news. And yet several wrote back "great article, funny, I had never heard of him." With most current articles about our top athletes decidedly negative, we need to keep alive the memory of athletes such as Roberto Clemente, who had a mission in life that did not end when he crossed home plate.

In the vein of keeping stories alive, FindingDulcinea also presents today the Ten Stories that Defined 2008.

Michael Phelps: Where's the encore ?

To the surprise of no one, Michael Phelps was named the 2008 Sports Illustrated Sportsman of the Year. Sports Illustrated has taken varied approaches to its selections. Sometimes the award is more of a "lifetime achievement award" - it goes to someone who surely was considered multiple times and wins it as a crowning achievement; Brett Favre, Cal Ripken, John Wooden and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar are in this category. And then there are those who are chosen more for their impact off the playing field; 1987's "Athletes Who Care," Arthur Ashe and Billie Jean King come to mind. And often, as this year, the award goes to a young athlete who does something truly extraordinary in a single year; Phelps, Dwayne Wade, Steve Cauthen, and the first winner, Roger Bannister are in this category. What is impressive is how many of the winners go on to lead impactful lives after their playing days are over. So this week, while we dutifully published yet another bio piece about Michael Phelps, we also presented articles about four former winners whose post-athletic achievements were at least as amazing as their athletic feats. Rafer Johnson was the world's greatest athlete, winning the Olympic Decathlon in Rome in 1960, but, as our article reports, he has trumped that with many decades of involvement in global youth groups. Peter Ueberroth once said "If you made a list of the ten top role models for young men in America, I don’t know who the other nine would be, but Rafer would be one of them." Then there is our article on Arthur Ashe, who helped end apartheid in South Africa; he spoke of his own life in these words: “True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost.” We also wrote about running legend Kip Keino, whose foundation has created the Kenyan long distance running dynasty but also supports a school and orphanage; and we wrote about Roger Bannister, who, not content to merely be the first human to break a four minute mile, went on to become a highly regarded neurologist. For now, Michael Phelps is known for swimming faster than any man ever has, and a 13,000 calorie a day diet. Let's hope he follows in the footsteps of these remarkable men to one day be known for so much more.

Finding Renewable Energy at Mile 13

I have written about how contagious running marathons can be, and how I improved dramatically in my fourth try by incorporating cardio boxing into my training. Now let me tell you about how an inexplicable, overwhelming surge of energy at the halfway point propelled me to my goal.

My goal was 4:24, a PR by 30 minutes. In my first three marathons, I ran the first half in about 2:17, but the 2nd half took 20-35 minutes longer, as my legs cramped badly and lost much of their function. In running parlance, I am a “Clydesdale,” a person blessed and cursed with a large frame, a head the size of Neptune and thick, dense legs. The legs would be great for pulling a hay wagon, but quizzically ask, “are you kidding me ?” when I implore them into a 21st mile.

For this race, I was very confident I could easily run the first half in under 2:04, and hoped that 2:20 would somehow be attainable for the second. It would all depend on how long into the second half I could maintain a decent pace, and how badly I would slow once my legs started to fail me.

My running partner and I ran the first three miles at a 9:17 pace, right on track. She then struggled through a race day injury. We slowed to a 9:50 pace for the next 3 miles to see if she could shrug it off, but she stopped to stretch and urged me to go ahead. I tried to revert to the faster pace, but struggled to do so, and mile after mile, another 9:50 had elapsed. My legs grew heavy, and my energy began to fade, much earlier than I had expected. As I struggled up a hill in mile 9, I began to ponder what had gone wrong, and to re-adjust my expectations. Where I hoped to glide the first half in 2:04, 2:07 had become likely, and I was much more tired than I expected. 4:30 became my Maginot line, and a tenuous one at that.

I looked down at the face of my late brother, James, on my t-shirt, and muttered “I’ll need you in the second half,” and then prepared to dodge ice on the road at the next water stop.

When I was struggling through long runs for my first marathon in 2004, I called James to encourage him through the difficult physical therapy he was enduring to learn to walk again after a stroke, caused by a staph infection. “I know it hurts,” I said, “but when it hurts the most is when it’s most important that you push on.” As I hung up the phone, I asked myself, “were you talking to him, or you ?” A few months later, I finished the marathon, and the most treasured memory of it is when James called to tell me how proud he was of me. After he passed away, I got three other brothers into running marathons, and it is a family tradition to wear James’ face on the front of our t-shirt.

I then began to push hard in Mile 10 to avoid slipping even further behind my first half goal. As I approached the halfway mark, I was thankful the split would at least be under 2:07, but I looked ruefully towards the second half.

I’ve been running for 32 years, covering an estimated 25,000 miles. Many times, a run that started badly got much better as my legs loosened up, I found a reserve I didn’t know I had, or I just got “locked in” mentally. Innumerable times I’ve experienced “runner’s high,” which is an all-encompassing, serene feeling in which you hardly feel your feet touching the ground, all pain disappears for awhile, and you feel you can fly.

But what I felt as I crossed the halfway mark was so much more than that.

It was a dramatic surge of energy, consequent confidence and other emotions, and focus. You know when the Grinch decides to return the toys to the Whos down in Whoville, instead of tossing them off a cliff ? He gains the strength of ten Grinches – plus two. It was that transformative. Or when the five o’clock Calvin asked the six o’clock Calvin to do his homework for him, so it would be done for him when it became seven o’clock ? Yes, it was as though I had handed a baton to a fresh teammate to run the second half, and all I had to do was show up at the finish to celebrate. I was startled to feel tears streaming down my face. I posited that I was exhausted from a 4 a.m. wake-up call, cold, wet, and hungry, and my emotions were on edge after a difficult few weeks. But that didn’t quite answer it. Because these were tears of joy. I suddenly knew, with ironclad certainty, that I would continue to run 9:50 miles far longer than I had ever dreamed possible, and certainly a lot longer than seemed realistic as I trudged up that hill a few miles back.

A half-mile up the road, I saw my family. My wife, who was being emailed my splits, excitedly told me how well I was doing. Even though there were 12 miles left, I declared confidently in response, “I’m going to make it, I’m going to shatter my goal.” At mile 15, my legs began to cramp, and I thought, “this is where you slow down, try to stay under 10:30.” But 15 seconds later, a voice on my other shoulder said “no, this is where you reach down, and run just as fast, even though it hurts more.” And the next three miles were my fastest of the day, other than the start of the race. As I approached mile 19, I wondered how long this burst would last. And then I realized the energy was renewable, and understood the tears.

You see, the energy emanated from the seven words I muttered to James in mile 9.

On four previous occasions, I have felt an unmistakable other-wordly intervention in my life. All four related to a loved one who faced grave physical peril. I prayed to deceased love ones, and received an overwhelming feeling of assurance that the crisis would pass, and in each case it did. Because of this, I reserve my prayers for serious situations, and never pray for personal success or material gain, and had not done so on this day. I merely advised my brother that a little company on the back 13 would be appreciated. And it had been delivered in spades.

Where the year before I was running a 12 minute pace at this stage, I glided through mile 19 in 9:45; mile 20 went in 9:55; mile 21 in 9:40. I began to feel twitches throughout my legs, and, well ahead of my goal, purposely slowed and ran the next three miles in 10:30 each. I sped back up for a triumphant final mile, finishing the race in 4:18, an improvement of 35 minutes over my all-time best, and about 12 minutes faster than I hoped to run while struggling through mile 9. As Leonardo Da Vinci once said, "Oh Lord, thou giveth us everything, at the price of an effort."

So how do I follow up a race like that ? I'm planning to run the Boston Marathon in April. And gunning for yet another 35-minute improvement.

But this time, I’ll talk to James before the start.