Mark Yost – Boston Marathon – Monday, April 18, 2016

The Boston Marathon course is both a beauty and a beast.

Boston is a spectacularly challenging course. The first half is seductively fast, but if you do not run the first half smart, the second half stands you up, then slaps you down hard. Sometimes very hard.

A successful run at Boston, in my opinion, is a positive split by a few minutes. I have heard of negative splits, but they are pretty rare. This year, I was close to my goal split time of 1:30:00 at the half, but I faded, slowing to a positive split in the second half by over 15 minutes (about 1:45:00+). This scenario has played out before. Those were almost my exact splits in 2010. In fact, I’m batting about 2 good races out of 11 starts at Boston. The course can be a beast.

The Boston Marathon is, however, beautiful in so many different ways. The race organization is almost flawless, even with the enhanced security after the 2013 bombings. The weather this weekend was excellent. The Bostonians treat marathoners like gold. The Boston crowds are incredible on race day, and the air is filled with excitement all weekend.

Doug Smith, Missie Vess and I rented a 2 bedroom apartment near Harvard Square through AirBnB. For 4 nights, from Friday to Tuesday, the apartment worked out to a little over $100/night each (as opposed to a hotel room for $300 to $400 a night). It was comfortable with a decent kitchen, and it was about 4 blocks from the Harvard Square MBTA stop. The apartment was also about a quarter mile from a pool, so we got a swim in on Saturday. And I got a few pointers from Missie.

The weekend weather was perfect for running, but true to the forecast, race day was a bit warmer with a predicted high near 70. After training in temperatures that have been 30-35 degrees cooler, few of us were ready for a 70-degree race in the full sunshine.

It was comfortable hanging around in Athlete’s Village in Hopkinton pre-race, but if you aren’t uncomfortably cold before a marathon, it is going to be a hard race. It was a hard race. There was a headwind, which did not significantly impede our progress but it masked water loss, drying your sweat almost immediately. I was caked in salt at the finish, even worse than the inevitable salt streaks at Kona.

My plan, like last year, was to make a run at sub-3 hours with Erin Kelman. Last year, I ran with Erin and Nicole, until they dropped me in the hills of Newton. They ran 2:58; I ended up running 3:05. Despite the forecast, Erin and I agreed to stay with our plan to run 6:50 splits (after two or three 7 minute miles out of the start) and then adapt if necessary for survival.

Pre-race I was concerned about whether I was ready. My left glute and upper hamstring had been tight ever since the Napa Marathon in early March, and my resting heartrate had been chronically high.

Resting heartrate is a key indicator for race readiness and I check it daily. Mine is normally about 45 bpm during training, dropping to the low 40s or high 30s after a good taper. However, it’s been consistently in the high 40s or low 50s, indicating stress or the likely onset of illness, injury or overtraining. There has been a lot of stress at work and the lingering soreness from Napa may explain a lot of it. My resting heartrate the day before the race was 52. Not good.

Equally concerning is that my heartrate while running at Zones 2 from 4 has been 20-30 bpm high, which is really bad because it signals that I am burning a higher proportion of carbs to fats than I normally would at marathon goal pace. Which means, of course, my body is not metabolizing fats well and I run the risk of bonking, and earlier than usual, in marathon. Normally, I race about 125-130 bpm. At Napa, I averaged 160 bpm. Not good, but it explained the mini-bonk in the final miles. (My heartrate at Boston turned about to be 20-25 bpm higher than normal, averaging 150 bpm, also explaining how I felt in the final miles).

Other than the heartrate issue, I went into Boston well rested and mentally ready. The apartment I shared with Missie and Doug, was relaxing and stress free. We ate well and minimized both distractions and stress, a key towards a successful race day.

The race started out perfectly, except for sweating up a storm while we waited in Corral 5 of Wave 1. It felt warm in Hopkinton, but it did not seem bad once we got going. The downhill start in Hopkinton can be madness. With the crowds, energy, enthusiasm and fact that you are starting with people who qualified at or near your pace, it is easy to start too fast. Erin and I pretty much stuck with the plan, starting around 7 min pace (or a little slower), then building to 6:45 to 6:50 over the course of several miles.

We went through the 5K at 21:39 and the 10K at 42:48, where I passed Kevin D’Amanda, a friend who started in Corral 2. I have a great deal of respect for Kevin, he’s a sub-60 minute 10 miler and ran a 2:50 marathon a few years back (he’s currently 50-54 AG). We spoke briefly as I passed, trading goal pace plans. He (correctly) suggested it was not a day to hammer due to the heat. He was moving at 7:20-7:30 pace. I told him we were going to do 6:50s for awhile and see how it went.

Kevin’s wise words stuck in my head and as we went through the 15K in about 1:04, I kept assessing how I felt. I decided I was working too hard for the 6:50 pace (probably reflected by the high average heartrate in the post-race data analysis), and that it was time to cut back to about 7:15 min pace. Erin and I split amicably at about 10 miles; he was running strong and I decided it was time to run cautiously.

There is not much you control in racing except pace, attitude, hydration and nutrition. You have to run your own race, and my better judgment said to slow the pace.

I went through the half in 1:31:08, which looked to me then as about 3:05-3:10 likely finish time. But the long downhill at Wellesley did a little damage on my quads. I slowed more in the Newton Hills and then hobbled down the other side at Boston College. (I am fond of saying the Newton Hills are over-rated and the downhill at Boston is under-rated. Unless you can scamper like Boston Billy Rogers, the downhill destroys quads as too many of us lean back and brake on the steep drop into Cleveland Circle).

I was right to slow down and let Erin go on his own. He finished in 3:06. My final 7k was pretty ugly. I could feel the glycogen depletion, despite taking four gels and Gatorade at every water stop. My stride became a bit jerky and my pace soared to 8 min pace and beyond.

The 5K splits always tell the tale:

5K – 21:39
10K – 21:09
15K – 21:13
20K – 22:15
25K – 22:41
30K — 24:15
35K – 25:28
40K – 26:16

Over the last six miles, it is the crowds that pull you forward and, particularly since 2013, you appreciate and love them more. They stand 5-6 people deep in places and roar encouragement. There was a bit of carnage this year, mainly walkers and crampers, and I saw a few prone or stretching on the pavement. The crowd often helped get them up and running.

At mile 24, I saw Kevin D’Amanda again. He’d caught me, running his steady 7:30-7:40 pace. And he passed me.

I love running marathons, but by the time I reach mile 24, I am more than ready to be done. Nevertheless, the finish at Boston makes it all worthwhile. Right on Hereford Street, left on Boylston, then you see the finish line in the distance that seems to tease you, slowly ever so slowly getting closer.

I crossed in 3:16:37, about 5 to 10 minutes slower than what I anticipated at the 13.1 mile mark, averaging 7:30 min/mile.

Everyone seemed slower this year. The elites were about 5 to 10 minutes slower, and the winning time in the 55-59 AG was 2:46. Usually the 55-59 winner runs in the high 2:30s or low 2:40s. Yes, Boston is super competitive. After the race, I met a 69-year-old who ran 3:29. He said he would not make the top ten, and he expected the 65-69 year old winner to run about 3:01. (This guy ran 2:30 when he was young).

I finished 54th out of about 1800 in the 55-59 AG; Matt Mace finished 53rd about 33 seconds ahead of me. (We ran the JFK50 together in 2012, running side by side for around 30 miles and then crossing in identical times. I never saw him on Patriots Day though; he was in a different wave).

About 10 minutes after crossing the line, I cramped hard, taking me down to the ground. Then I started puking violently. What’s that all about? It happened at Placid 2015, at Kona 2015, and now at Boston. I gave back a lot of the free Gatorade from the final miles. At least my body waited until after I crossed the line.

This was a hard, painful year at Boston. A lot of us had tough days (the City and the course were flooded with MMTC runners or so it seemed). It is so true, however, that a bad day at the Boston Marathon is better than a good day anywhere else.

My race did not go as planned or as expected. So, what changes for next year? More long slow runs to enhance efficiency in metabolizing fat. I probably did too many of the medium distance and long runs at high Zone 3 or low Zone 4, depriving my body of fat burning-training. I have to figure out what is going on with this heartrate thing. I need more hills, both downhill and uphill repeats. And, I promise to stretch more, do more core and get regular deep tissue massage. And floss daily.

Maybe Erin and I will try to tame the beast again.