For those of you who have ever run or considered running a marathon, you understand that the gargantuan challenge of finishing 26.2 miles does more than just whet the appetite of a competitors’ soul. To runners of all levels, the marathon is the Holy Grail of racing and represents the ultimate mental and physical test.
For those of you who have not and will never ever attempt a marathon, you understand that marathoners are insane and you wonder why any rational human being would choose to endure such pain.
But what runners and non-runners can agree upon is that the undertaking and the completion of a marathon is a truly remarkable feat. The 26.2 miles is a long way, and to anyone who chooses to take on that beast – more power to them.
In the fall of 2001, when I first contemplated the Boston Marathon, I had many doubts as to whether or not I was cut out to complete the historic event. I had run throughout high school, but had done nothing near what it takes to prepare for a race that starts in Hopkinton, finishes in Boston, and passes though six towns in between.
After several months of training and mental preparation, April finally rolled around. The 2002 Boston Marathon is something I will never forget. The trek to Hopkinton at 6:30 a.m. The anxiety-filled wait with more than 20,000 other eager runners to begin the race. The time I crossed the starting line and said “Well Andrew, you’re really going to do this.” The endless supporters lining the course. The first sight of the Citgo Sign. The raucous BU fans. The finish line. The realization of the completion of a lofty goal.
Last year’s marathon was more than I could have ever expected. Somehow, I was able to finish in 3 hours and 57 minutes. Even many months after the marathon, a small smile would come across my face at thought of crossing the finish line next to the Public Library. Honestly, it was a memory I thought I would not relive in the near future.
Until the Fall of 2002.
Caila Ball, a freshman-year floormate of mine and participant in the 2002 Boston Marathon, created the BU Marathon Club at the beginning of this school year. With only a few words of persuasion from Caila, I was on board to repeat the mental and physical regimen I had gone through in the previous year.
Knowing what it took to prepare for the race and what the race was like, I felt much more comfortable than last year, so Mom, Dad and younger brother were forced to come and watch. In training, I ran longer, harder and more often. The tougher schedule had a huge side effect, however. About three weeks before the marathon, I strained an outer ligament in my right knee. Running was put on hold until April 21.
Despite some small concerns of my mother’s and my own, I boarded the BU Marathon Club shuttle to Hopkinton yesterday morning knowing that my second marathon would be much different from my first.
Here now, for those who have run a marathon, those who were inspired yesterday and want to run next year’s marathon and those who wouldn’t run a marathon if their life depended on it, are several memories from yesterday’s race:
* The way Hopkinton embraces the honor of being the starting point to the marathon. I don’t know if many other towns in America would welcome more than 20,000 runners and allow them to leave innumerable bagels, half-empty Vaseline containers and sweat suits on every resident’s lawn. Not to mention the runner’s choice substitution of portable bathrooms with back yards.
* The participants who always opt to don rather interesting racing attire. This year the top three best-dressed were 1) The man wearing a full tuxedo, 2) The runner in the Superman getup and 3) The “Bandit” Man who ran with hundreds of pieces of paper labeled “Bandit” attached to his clothes. An honorable mention goes to the runner who raced with a cardboard box on his head for the entire time. Apparently it was supposed to be a television, but we all know how zany runners can be.
* The sheer madness that is the scene at Wellesley College. This is stuff right out of “Girls Gone Wild.” Picture, if you will, a couple thousand drunken college girls, screaming their heads off while holding signs that things such as “If you try to kiss me, I’ll let you!!!” You can hear the screeches from close to a half-mile away; I’m not kidding.
* The way Heartbreak Hill has lived up to its name two years in a row. Both years I have arrived at the 16th mile feeling great about my performance. I was on pace and not feeling too strained. But both times, the five-mile climb has broken my spirits and made me throw my pace out the window. Thankfully this year, my family was waiting for me at the top of the descent and helped me get through the balance of the race.
* How after 25 miles, the Citgo Sign is the most beautiful structure in the world. It signals that you have made it home and that you are oh-so-close to the end. Also, the sign means that you are near Kenmore, where more than a few of the BU faithful will propel you to the finish line on Boylston Street.
I finished this year’s marathon in 4 hours and 15 minutes. I was more than relieved at the finish because my knee was able to hold up for the long haul, and I could see how much my family enjoyed the day.
For anyone thinking about running a marathon, all I can say is that it is as hard as you probably think, but is by no means impossible. People close to three times my age passed me on the course yesterday, and you have to be impressed with their strength. If and when you finish, you will have achieved something that no one will ever be able to take away from you. If you really think you can do it, then you can.
With two in the books, I think I want to experience the 2004 Boston Marathon from the other side of the fence as a spectator.
But check back with me in the fall.
Andrew Cannarsa, a sophomore in the College of Communication, is a sports staff writer for The Daily Free Press.