Reminiscing

“Boston is a course you need to do many times before you get the hang of it,” says Bill Rodgers. “I know I did.” Coming from a four-time champion, that’s saying something. Boston, the world’s oldest marathon, isn’t just tricky; it’s diabolical. But we quizzed former winners, canny coaches, and regular runners who know the course firsthand to bring you a mile-by-mile guide to the ups and downs of getting from Hopkinton to Copley Square.

Miles 0-2.5:
From an initial elevation of 472 feet, Route 135 drops like a roller coaster as it rambles into Ashland, site of the original starting line, used from 1897 to 1923. The gnarliest section of the descent comes in the first six-tenths of a mile, but Boston’s strict seeding system, the size of its field, and the narrow road should help prevent you from careening downhill too fast. This is a good thing, so don’t fight it. Stay in the middle third of the road and let the jackrabbits sprint along the edges. You’ll get your chance to pass them later.

Yes, strong downhill. I stayed on the outer left side of the road because I started with a water bottle I wanted to whip.


Landmark:
TJ’s Food and Spirits, mile 2. Even the leather-clad Harley set gets caught up in marathon mania. This rowdy biker bar, located on the left side of the road, is the first major spectator hangout you’ll pass.

Totally remember the bikers cheering. It was awesome!

Miles 5-7.5:
Around the 10-K mark in Framingham, the course traverses the first of seven sets of railroad tracks. While you needn’t worry about having to stop to let a locomotive pass, several members of the lead pack in 1907 were less fortunate. According to Boston Marathon veteran and history buff Tom Derderian, they got separated from the eventual winner by a slow-moving freighter.

I have no recollection of any railroad tracks whatsoever. My mind is a blank. Maybe I was flying over them?


By now, Route 135 has flattened out, allowing runners to find a consistent rhythm. “Now you’re getting into a groove,” says race director Dave McGillivray, a 33-time Boston finisher. If you’ve ignored our advice and gone out too fast, when you hit Framingham, you need to settle in. “The mile splits you’d planned, those are what you should be running now,” says McGillivray.

Of course I went out too fast when do I not?

Landmark:
Henry Wilson Shoe Shop, mile 8.5. Although staged on Patriot’s Day, the state holiday that commemorates Paul Revere’s ride, the Boston Marathon never touches the route Revere and his deputies traveled while sounding the alarm. At the intersection of Route 135 and Mill Street in Natick, however, it does pass the proudly preserved workspace of Henry Wilson, a local cobbler who went on to become Ulysses S. Grant’s vice president.

Huh? Didn’t see it.

Miles 7.5-12.5:
The course undulates as it skirts Lake Cochituate and proceeds into downtown Natick. “Some of the grade changes are imperceptible, but they do help you,” says Boston Athletic Association (BAA) coach Michael Pieroni. “You can use different muscles, which lets those that have been taxed for a while get a break.” Forget about even splits on the rolling terrain and focus instead on even effort. “Your pace will slow down on the upgrades,” says Lisa Rainsberger, the last American to win, in 1985. “But if you keep the same cadence and the same heart rate, you’ll be okay.”

Lake? What lake? Um yes the grade changes…meaning holy hell uphill… to this flatlander. Finally at mile 11 I came to my senses and backed off my ridiculously stupid pace and took it easy for self-preservation purposes.

Landmark:
Wellesley College, mile 12.5. Because of the way the course bends, the celebrated shrieks of the school’s 2,400 students will reach your ears well before you pass by them. If you don’t get chills once you hit this gauntlet of sound, say even the most hard-boiled Boston vets, you must not have a pulse.

This was the most incredible phenomenon. I could hear them way before I even got there. They brought a big smile to my face and my feet were light and swift thru Wellesley. Thanks girls!

Miles 15-16.5:
On its way into Newton Lower Falls, Route 135 plummets 150 feet in a half mile, the steepest drop since the opening plunge out of Hopkinton. “It’s a terrible hill,” says Bill Squires, famed former coach of the Greater Boston Track Club, noting that what makes it so troublesome is the punishing haul up the bridge over Route 128 that immediately follows. “To me, the climb up over 128 has always been the toughest part of the whole race,” adds McGillivray. “You don’t look for it, because nobody talks about it. And then you say, ‘Wait a minute, I’m going up.’ And then you keep going up and up.” The bridge’s exposure to the elements adds to its difficulty. “If there’s a weather problem of any sort, this area seems to call it out,” says Cambridge Running Club coach Fred Treseler. “If it’s sunny, it’s always very hot. If it’s a windy day, it’s twice as bad here.” Consider yourself warned. Put your head down, stay focused, and maybe repeat a mantra-something like “This too shall pass.”

By now I’m looking for my posse and their Sponge Bob balloon.

Miles 16.5-17.5:
“If you’re under pace, this is the point to really slow it down and regroup, and make sure you’re truly getting ready for the last hills,” Pieroni says. Anyone who feels their legs fading here should “go to their arms,” suggests Rainsberger. Driving your elbows back a bit harder than normal helps bring up your knees. “And that’s going to spread out the workload.”

Entering the 17th mile, you’ll encounter two potentially vital relief stations. In front of the Woodland Country Club, you’ll find volunteers distributing Power Gel on both sides of the course. To the right sits an MBTA (or “T,” as the locals call it) trolley stop. (Note: All day on marathon day, flashing your official bib number lands you a free T ride. But don’t get on it here!)

Where the hell is my posse???

Landmark:
Newton Fire Station, mile 17.5. For the first time in the entire race, the course takes a sharp turn, bearing right at this handsome red-brick building onto Commonwealth Avenue and the first of the infamous Newton hills.

Finally while tap dancing thru a street littered with Power Gel land mines, I spotted the Sponge Bob balloon and saw my kids, the Caveman, my girlfriends, even the in-laws. Fuel handoff and lots of hugs and slacking happened here.

Miles 17.5-21:
Here we go: Take a deep breath, set your eyes on the road ahead, and motor on, tackling the slopes one at a time as you start up the series of rises that ends with the famous Heartbreak Hill. “The first one is pretty long, but it has the gentlest grade,” says Pieroni. Shorten your strides slightly until you reach the top, then switch into recovery mode as you drop 50 feet over the next mile. The second hill rears up just past the Johnny Kelley statue-on the left side of the street, opposite Newton City Hall-and leads to a short, level patch of road that fools some fatigue-addled runners into thinking the worst is over, when Heartbreak proper still looms. Draw encouragement from the boisterous crowds lining the course. Dick Beardsley, who finished second behind Alberto Salazar in their famous 1982 duel, says, “I thought the crowds helped me here more than anywhere else.”

Um yeah this was hard. Really hard. Like shoot me now and leave me for the vultures hard. I began walking thru water stations here. Insert GU IV drip NOW!

Miles 22-25:
Before entering Cleveland Circle at mile 22, the race turns abruptly right onto Chestnut Hill Avenue, then left 300 yards later onto Beacon Street. By mile 23, you’ll be descending steadily; in the twenty-fourth, the downward pitch becomes even more pronounced.

If you’re still feeling good, “the course is finally sweet to you at the end,” Rodgers says. “It gives you all this good downhill, and you can just glide.” If you’re struggling, Rainsberger advises taking things a few shuffling steps at a time. “Break it down into smaller sums. You can see the darn CITGO sign forever, so don’t look for that. Look for the next water station or mile marker.” As you approach Kenmore Square, beware the Mass. Pike overpass near Fenway Park. It’s just a bump, really, but it won’t seem like that now.

Landmark: Cemetery Mile, mile 23. “People get to the top of Heartbreak and they say, ‘Damn, I made it!'”Meyer says. “Then they go charging down the hill to Boston College, and then their legs are finished.” After crossing Lake Street, anyone who commits that error will be left to suffer in relative solitude. Trolley tracks paralleling Commonwealth Avenue on the left keep away supporters. What’s more, to the right stands Evergreen Cemetery. “I call it the Cemetery of Lost Hope,” Squires says. Treseler adds, “It’s really a no-man’s-land. All of a sudden, everything goes quiet. It’s very easy to become distracted or deflated.”

Thank heavens for the delicious downhills. Although my quads are cursing loudly. I keep on keepin on. Crowds are INSANE and the Wellesley girls have nothing on the Boston College coeds. WOW! Somewhere in here I came upon Rick and Dick Hoyt, ran with them for a bit and got all emotional, no actual crying though cuz I’m that dehydrated.

Miles 25-26.2:
During his showdown with Salazar, Beardsley tripped over a pothole as the two flew through Kenmore Square. The stumble barely threw him off stride-he actually credits the mishap with loosening a perilously tight hamstring-and in retrospect, it’s no surprise he kept going. Once you get this far, nothing will stop you from finishing.

A straight shot down Common- wealth Avenue leads you to a right onto Hereford Street and a final short incline before hooking a left onto Boylston. Keep the legs churning and the arms swinging. And most of all, soak in the Olympian roar-and the view of the finish-once you make that turn. “You’ve reached the point of no return,” McGillivray says. No matter what the race clock reads, “you can claim victory now.”

When I came around that corner and saw the finish looming it was like the ultimate mirage. Am I really here? How the hell did I get here? My life passed before me in slow motion. Should I cry?…oh yeah too dehydrated. I put my hands up, paced myself for the optimum finishline photo op and got er done. Amazing.

Landmark:
Kenmore Square MBTA Stop, near mile 25 and the CITGO sign. Some say infamous bandit Rosie Ruiz walked out of this station and jumped in the race for her ill-gained “First place” finish in 1980. Having earned your medal, you’ll want to celebrate. Avoid the Copley Square T (it’s closed), and go to Arlington Street, the Hynes Convention Center, or Back Bay Station. And try to stay awake for a postrace party.

The finishing chute was an another marathon unto itself. Somehow I missed the reunion area and found myself shivering like a drug addict out in a windy park with swan boats. Go figure. Alright, enough. Back to packing for this year! EEK!