#17 Boston - Dead Mice and Codeine - September 30, 2006

Well, there was that little marathon I ran this past weekend - 26.2 miles aka 42.157 kilometers - through the streets of Toronto and along Lake Ontario - without any doubt the most physically demanding and the most emotionally rewarding activity I have ever done. There is nothing comparable to seeing that finish line, forget about the fact that at the 34 KM mark you wanted to lie down, just lie down, and still be able to dig deep and get a sprint out of that weary body of yours, running the final yards with the same gusto as the first few steps you took that morning, and a big smile on your face.

It now seems completely surreal, as if it happened in a movie, and I am left merely an observer. Four months of training, learning, stretching that wretched IT band of mine, carbo-loading, carbo-unloading. And it all comes down to this moment. I finished!

I sailed into town two days prior to the blessed event, with some inexplicably sore calves, muscles that pinched and pulled for no apparent reason, and a slightly elevated anxiety level. The best marathon host in the world, my most enchanting friend Ruth, had pretty much set every wheel in motion to make me feel comfortable - including several pints of ice cream in her freezer that were just waiting to be inhaled. The pre-race days were pretty low-key - a scrumptious lunch with my friend Pat Adams at the Latitude Wine Bar and Grill in the Annex (http://www.dine.to/latitude), a visit to the Marathon Expo to pick up my bib number (#1456) and plenty of stretching and couch time.

Marathon Day - Rise and shine at 5 AM. At 5:45 AM, a cab arrives to take me to downtown Toronto to the start of the race. It is still dark, and only a few lonely runners, equally anxious, nervous, sit on the steps of a nearby office building. Small talk. Tales from the road - "is this your first marathon?" - "You'll do fine....". This is part of the ritual - words of encouragement, stretching, focus, focus, focus. Last nervous words, and in darkness, at 7 AM, the gun goes off to the cheers of the crowd. Marathons, just like half-marathons, have a casual feel to them (to me they do at least) - no sense in running out of the gate like a bat out of hell. Nice and easy, slow and even pace - there are 42 KM to go.

Conversations with strangers - the mother of Toronto Blue Jays pitcher A.J.Barnett, followed by a very spunky 60-some year old grandmother, who was running this one (her 18th) for her newest grandson Liam, who she promised playing rights to her finisher medal; my new friend Jennifer, who was the biggest cheerleader of them all, and while running had a word of support for pretty much everyone, struggling or not.

Milestones - small ones, big ones. At 10 KM, the Kenyans fly by, as if it was nothing to sprint the whole distance. A happy crowd jogs along, sunshine instead of the expected cloudy rainy day - the kilometer markers come quickly, quicker than mile markers; at mile 12, the half-marathon runners say goodbye, the marathon crowd continues along the lakefront and into a somewhat swampy area littered with dead mice, past a charming little marina. Water stops every 3 KM, I walk through them, however the longer you run, the more your knees lock up when you walk. Running feels better, despite the exhaustion. Every 4-5 KM a band, rock'n roll, steel drum bands, harpists, Bulgarian dancers, Asian dragons, nice distractions. Every race bib has the runner's name on it, spectators yell it out, "You can do it Petra, almost there". At 28 KM a sharp pain, a blister on one of my toes bursts, brief check, decision not to worry about it, keep running. The two Tylenol taken at 23 KM help.

At 34 KM, I just want to lie down, the mental games start, math exercises in your head - "Come on Petra, you can do this - just 8 K left, that is five miles, you can run five miles! Just make it to the next water stop at 36 K, you can drink a little water there, walk a little, it will do wonders." At 36 K repeat, you see an ambulance racing by, keep going, people in clown costumes on giant stilts on the side of the road, just keep running. 38, 39 K, oh my god, I think I might be able to finish this, just 3 kilometers to go, that is just about the distance from home to work, you could even walk it if you want to. No I am not walking, I am holding on, even if my legs fall off, I WILL FINISH. You turn to your right, back toward Toronto's CN Tower (the space-needlish thingy - http://www.cntower.ca/portal/ ), one more left turn, there is the finish line. At this point you are so emotional, ohmygod, ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod, and you just sprint, you run as hard as you can, because you are there. You are between laughing and crying, you are elated and you just want to run in circles.

My friend Ruth is waiting, camera in hand, and I just fall into her arms, laughing, crying, still unable to comprehend. We sit down, running shoes come off, change into the Teva flip-flops quickly, aaahhh, soft, cushiony. Blood pressure drops, I am cold. I dress in warm clothes, grab some food and get my crusty self into the subway and home. I wash off the layer of salt on my body, stretch, ice, call friends and grab a Tylenol with Codeine, and drift off to a VERY nice nap.

Pat, her husband Larry, their daughters Essie and Catherine take Ruth and me out for a superb dinner, I only have to go down to the street, and they drop me off right near the Golden Leaf Restaurant in Toronto's Chinatown. Fantastic food, and I only have to sit there. Niiiiiice. Monday is spent on the couch, more ice, more ice cream and several episodes of the British spy series "Reilly, Ace of Spies" with a deliciously devious Sam Neill. A Monday night pedicure got the feet feeling much better and by Tuesday, I was able to walk off a curb without any major assistance (just kidding.....).

I have been welcomed back to Boston by my office mates, friends and running club colleagues with so many congratulations, gifts, notes, flowers - it has been quite wonderful. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I am now officially part of the "marathon club" and have some bragging rights, for about a week or so. Then I promise I will come down to Planet Earth. In the meanwhile, I am sitting on my lazy butt, tell the tale of my first marathon over and over, and have a nice beer here or there.

My friends, again, thank you for your support, maybe some of you will follow in my footsteps, and for the rest of you, at least have a drink on me.

Love ya,

pet:)