After training for 18 weeks, the day had finally arrived for
the 2014 Boston Marathon. It was a sunny
morning and the temperature was about 65 degrees when I left my friend's house
to head down to the starting line. I
wanted to get there early to make sure I could get through the security around
the starting line and to have a chance to meet up with some of my Dana Farber
Marathon Challenge (DFMC) teammates. My
friend dropped me off and I started to
walk towards the starting line area. The
security was very tight and I had to go through a checkpoint, be wanded and
then turned loose to head over to the church and DFMC Refuge. I was a little saddened by the need for such
high security as it was an indication that this race has been changed forever
by the events of last year.
At 11:00 am, the DFMC team headed out from the church
towards the corrals in the starting area.
We were in Wave 3 and Corral 9. I
was about 1/2 mile from the starting line.
As I stood there amongst about 600 other DFMC teammates, I reflected on
how hard I had trained leading up to this day.
I was rested and ready. Leading
up to the race, I had avoided watching any of the TV coverage of the
anniversary of the events of 2013 because it was just too difficult to
watch. As a former resident of the
Commonwealth and a 2 time finisher of this race, I really wanted to be there
just to have the chance to be a part of the celebration of this very historic
race and to try and help in my own small way to heal the City. I was filled with excitement which had
replaced the deep sadness I had felt only two days before.
While I was downtown at the race Expo the Friday before the
race, it was the first time I had walked around that part of Boston since
leaving back in December 2012. It was a
very eerie feeling as it looked like it always does. The finish line was all set up. The barricades and bleachers were in
place. It looked exactly like it did on
the day of the bombings. As I walked
towards the finish line, I felt an overwhelming sadness take over me. I was having to hold back tears. I headed over to the Old South Church right
at the finish line to receive the scarf from its members. They had created the Marathon Scarf project
where they collected handmade scarves from all over the country to give to the
runners of this year's race. I collected
mine and received a hug and a blessing from the woman. As I walked away, I had to wipe the tears
from my face. She had told me that they
were wrapping me and the other runners with their love and hope for peace in
the future.
As I waited for the gun to sound, I also reflected on the fact that runners have been training for
this race for 118 years. This race has been a lifetime goal for some elite and
middle of the pack marathoners like myself.
More importantly, this race is and always will be a huge chance for
personal victory for everyone who tackles the challenge. I thought about the fact that a marathon is
not just about the runners who participate but it is about the families who
sacrifice for their loved ones to train for and run this storied race. Having run this race twice before, I know
that it is mostly about the City of Boston coming together for a celebration of
achievement and to show the world what human achievement looks like and showcase
what a fabulous place Boston is.
I didn't actually hear the gun go off. But I knew it had as the runners started to
walk towards the starting line. I
started to walk along with them. It was
good to finally be moving. As I reached
the starting line, I snapped a quick photo and headed off. The first miles went really well. I was feeling good and when I checked my pace
after the first 5K, I was right on where I wanted to be. I settled into the pace and figured I had a
shot to break 4 hours again. But I
didn't get too excited because I still had 23 miles to go.
By the time I got to mile 10, I was feeling like I could
hold the pace for the rest of the race.
I knew I would slow down a little in the Newton Hills. But at this pace, I would still be able to
come in under 4 hours with some time to spare.
My right hamstring was feeling a little sore. But it was nothing I hadn't experienced in
training. Typically I would feel a dull
pain that would subside after a little while.
So I didn't think twice about it and kept going. I really wanted to get to Wellesley College
to see how crazy the co-eds would be this year.
I reached Wellesley College still feeling pretty
strong. My hamstring was still barking a
little bit but still nothing major. So seeing
that I was actually ahead of my pace, I decided to wade into the crazy
screaming tunnel and get some lovin' from these co-eds. They did not disappoint. I high-fived so many girls that my hand
hurt. Several grabbed my shirt and
kissed me on the cheek. I am still not
sure why they want to hug and kiss sweaty old guys like me. But why disappoint, right? When I got to the end of the college, I
looked at my watch to see my current time.
It had taken me 10 minutes to get through that mile. My pace was still ok and my hamstring seemed
to be feeling better.
The next 2 miles went by without an issue. Unfortunately, the hamstring started to feel
sore again as I passed the 14 mile mark.
This time it did not feel normal.
I slowed my pace down a bit to see if it would go away. I figured if it didn't, I could stop and
stretch it out a bit. I passed the 15
mile mark still not feeling good about my hamstring. I had 11 miles to go. I decided to take a 2 minute walk break to
let the pain subside and then started to run again. I wanted to finish this race no matter
what. I started to think that the 4 hour goal was not going to be reached
this time. Regardless, I was going to
cross that finish line in whatever time it took.
I could feel my hamstring starting to hurt again as I was
approaching the 16 mile mark. I was
hoping that it would go away. Then I
felt a very sharp pain in the upper right rear of my leg. It felt like someone had taken my hamstring
and tied it into a knot. It was so
painful I stopped almost immediately. I
walked a few paces to see if it was going to release. It became obvious that it was not going to
get any better. I had to make a
decision. Was I going to head to the
closest Medical Tent or simply keep going.
I had 10.2 miles to go. Not being
one to accept defeat, I decided to walk for about 5 minutes to see if it would
get better. If it didn't, I was going to
run/walk the rest of the way. I didn't
come all this way to take a DNF. More
importantly, I did not want to let down all of my followers and donors.
I trudged on knowing that I had the Newton Hills ahead. I also knew that with a bad hamstring, I was
never going to be able to run uphill.
Without a good hamstring your leg has no power on an uphill
incline. I gingerly ran down the hill to
Newton Falls and had the hill up and over I-95/128 ahead. I struggled up the steep incline. As I was approaching the halfway point on the
hill, I saw Dick Hoyt pushing his son up the hill. Everyone was cheering him on. If he could push his adult son up this hill
then I could push on as well. I had to
walk the last part of the hill. As I
crested it, I picked up my pace and started to slowly run to the turn at the Newton
Firehouse.
As I made the turn the crowds became even thicker and more raucous. They were cheering us all on with such
passion I became energized again. I
tried to run up the first of the 3 Newton Hills. I just couldn't do it. My right leg was simply not cooperating and
the pain was really strong. I decided to
run for 2 minutes and walk for 2 minutes.
It seemed to work a little as I continued to struggle with the incline. I reached the base of Heartbreack Hill and it
looked like Mount Everest to me. I
started to feel defeated. Then I heard
someone in the crowd shout, "You got this.
Just keep going." That
little encouragement helped me slowly get to the top of Heartbreak Hill and the
relief of a flat portion of the course.
I was still having trouble running as the pain was pretty
severe. I found that when I would
increase the pace above a walk it would hurt even more. I would try to run and then would have to
walk. I was visibly limping and the
crowds along the course could see it clearly. I cannot explain how much it meant to me to be
given so many shouts of encouragement as I struggled along. The crowds were so supportive of all of the
runners out there. The heat was causing
problems for many of the runners who had been training in very cold winter
temperatures. The heat was not my
problem. But as I struggled down the
hill to the turn onto Beacon Street, I could feel the excitement of the crowds
increase. I knew that they would carry
me the last 3 miles to the finish.
The last 3 miles
up to the turn on to Boylston Street were very painful. I saw my friend Jenice along the route and
she asked if I was OK. I told her what
was going on and that I was going to finish.
She gave me a hug and told me to take it easy. I had no choice. I pushed on.
At the 24 mile mark, I came up on another fellow DFMCer who was also
struggling. He said he was suffering
from the flu. He asked me if I wanted to
run with him a while. We would run to a
traffic light and then walk to the next light and run again. I tried to keep up with him but just
couldn't. I thanked him and told him I
would see him at the finish line. He
headed off without me. It was at the
recovery zone where I found out that runner was Mike Doherty who I had been
corresponding with leading up to the race.
We had never met until that moment.
At Mile 25 the
DFMC cheering section was really going crazy as we approached. I was really feeling bad and feeling like I
was just going to break down and cry. So
I walked over to the barrier and got several hugs from the people and
volunteers there. I thanked them for all
the support and then pushed on. I could
see the Citgo sign and knew the turn and "one mile to go" sign was
right there. I told myself that all that mattered now was to be able to run
across the finish line no matter how much it hurt. I knew I was going to finish
which felt good. The question now was
would I come in under 5 hours. The way I
felt, I was not sure.
I made the turn
and heard my name. I turned to my right
and saw my friend and fellow Scoutmaster Bill Mills-Curran and his
daughter. I hobbled over to the
barricade and he gave me a big bear hug.
I told him what had happened and he told me that he knew I could
finish. I thanked him and told him I
would make it. He gave me big pat on the back and I headed back onto
the course. The pain was really
strong. I found myself walking more than
running at this point. The crowds were
cheering me on. I could hear them yelling
my name and giving me all the encouragement they could muster.
I finally made
the turn onto Hereford and knew I had less than 1/2 mile to go. I was really hurting and the incline up to Boylston
was difficult. I walked up the hill
towards the turn. The crowds were now so
thick you could barely see any individuals.
The sound of their cheering was almost deafening. It was almost as if they were willing us on
to that finish line. When I finally made
the turn and could see the finish line about 3/10 of a mile ahead, I started to
slowly run to the finish. I was
hurting. I stopped to walk for a minute
and I heard my name again. There on the
left were two of my running friends Josh Martin and Jess Andra. They called me over. They were genuinely concerned for me. Josh gave me a huge hug and told me I was
rocking this race. Then Jess gave me a
big kiss on the cheek and told me to get out there and finish this up. I thanked them and headed off.
Their
encouragement and the raucous crowds pumped me up and I slowly ran towards that
finish line. I had taken in all the
sights and sounds of the last 10 miles and was so happy to be able to finish
the race no matter how much pain I was in.
As many signs along the route said, “This is our f’n City” and “This is
our f’n Finish Line”. All of these
thoughts were running through my head as I approached the finish line. I could hardly breath as I got closer and
closer to the finish line. I could feel
the tears welling up in my eyes. In
hindsight, I know this was caused by a combination of emotions brought on my
all of the memories of what I saw on the news last year and the pain of those
last miles. I crossed the finish line
under 5 hours. My official time was
4:57:09. I had persevered and somehow
still come in under 5 hours.
While there is a small part of me that is disappointed in my
race results, I am so proud to have been able to finish the race. It is most likely my last Boston (unless I
qualify). I forced myself to drink in the sights and sounds of those last 10
difficult miles. The Boston crowds were so supportive as they always are but
this year was definitely different. The
crowds were thicker and louder. The
shouts of encouragement to me personally were amazing. I can tell you that
Boston is definitely back and stronger than ever. I am so proud of all of those who came back
this year to finish the race that they were not allowed to finish last year
because of a truly senseless act of violence.
I am also proud to have been able to finish despite the injury.
Dean Karnazes wrote the
following:
The Marathon is not about
running, it is about salvation. We spend so much of our lives doubting
ourselves, thinking that we’re not good enough, not strong enough, not made of
the right stuff. The Marathon is an opportunity for redemption. Opportunity, because
the outcome is uncertain. Opportunity, because it is up to you, and only you,
to make it happen.
There is no luck involved in
finishing the Marathon, the ingredients required to tackle this formidable
challenge are straightforward: commitment, sacrifice, grit, and raw
determination. Plain and simple.
I as reflect back on my 3 Boston
Marathon experiences, I know that I have the right stuff to set a PR, finish on
an extremely hot day and persevere after an injury. Each finish symbolizes the reality that no
matter how hard you train or prepare the outcome is uncertain. No matter what, I know that I am a
marathoner. I will carry each of the 8
marathons finishes with me for the rest of my life. I also now know that this last race was and
hopefully will always be my most difficult.
I also know that I have the raw determination to finish what I start no
matter what obstacles may be placed in my way.
I also have the distinct honor to have raised over $37,000 for Dana
Farber this year. And most importantly
on April 21st, 2014 I was Boston Strong!
|
26345
|
Frumkin,
Ted
|
52
|
M
|
Scottsdale
|
AZ
|
USA
|
|
|
|
5k
|
10k
|
15k
|
20k
|
Half
|
25k
|
30k
|
35k
|
40k
|
|
0:28:18
|
0:55:33
|
1:22:32
|
1:51:14
|
1:58:23
|
2:22:34
|
3:01:40
|
3:45:19
|
4:34:01
|
|
Finish:
|
Pace
|
Proj. Time
|
Offl. Time
|
Overall
|
Gender
|
Division
|
|
0:11:20
|
4:57:09
|
4:57:09
|
26930
|
15201
|
2175
|
|
 |
| The DFMC Team |
Apr. 14 – 6.10 miles (52:45, 8:39 pace)
Apr. 15 – 5.10 miles (43:52,
8:36 pace)
Apr. 16 – 6.20 miles (54:02,
8:43 pace)
Apr. 21 – 26.40 miles (4:57:09, 11:10 pace) – 118th Boston Marathon
Apr. 28 – 3.10 miles (28:10,
9:05 pace)
Apr. 29 – 4.20 miles (35:29,
8:27 pace)
May 1 – 5.10 miles (45:15, 8:49 pace)
May 2 – 3.10 miles (28:51, 9:23 pace)
May 4 – 6.20 miles (1:01:02,
9:51 pace)
Total Miles: 65.5 miles
2014 Total Miles: 809.4 miles
