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| At the finish of the hardest marathon I've ever run |
When I applied for the number from my running club, the Somerville Road Runners, I had no idea what was on the horizon. All of my perceptions about the race ended up being wrong. We were targeting June for Reya's third open heart surgery, so I had no reason to believe it would happen so close to the marathon. But it was clear in January, after her 7th catheterization, that she could no longer wait and the plan was to do it 3 months after that, lining up perfectly with Patriots Day. We originally were targeting April 18, 2 days post marathon, but when you schedule surgery, you only get to give them a ballpark of when you'd like to schedule it, so I said I'd like to do it in early to mid- April. April 2 was our second choice, which is when we were originally scheduled for. The more I thought about it, the more 4/2 seemed like a better date. My heaviest training would be done and surgery would take place during the dreaded taper. The biggest downside was that there would be little time to rest. By the time the marathon rolled around, the weight of surgery would be lifted and Reya would be on the road to recovery. My trek to Hopkinton to Boston would be glorious and triumphant. Well, sort of. We could have never anticipated how hard this surgery would end up being. I thought I was prepared, having talked to so many other heart moms whose toddlers had also gone to the OR for similar surgeries. I thought the first 3-4 days would be really hard until her chest tubes came out and then we'd cruise to discharge. But as usual, Reya likes to throw curve balls, and that she did. Turns out, she decided she needed to sleep through the chest tubes by requiring extra respiratory support. I thought we'd spend a night or two in the CICU and then we'd go to the step-down unit with the chest tubes, instead we were in the CICU for two more nights after they were pulled. The first one was pulled while she was still intubated, the second one while she was still pretty sedate and heavily medicated. By the time she went to the floor, she only had one extra accessory - oxygen. It took her 8 days to come off of that. I thought by the time she went to the floor, she'd be feeling pretty good and would enjoy roaming the halls, playing in the wonderful playroom, and taking field trips to the lobby. We did all of these things, but more to keep her occupied and get her mind off of her misery, not because she enjoyed it. The was no rest in that week leading up to the marathon, I was walking several miles a day just to keep her calm. When we weren't walking, I was standing next to her crib soothing her. So much for staying off my feet.
But it did keep my mind off taper and obsessing about the race. In the week leading up to the marathon, I was aware that the weather was not predicted to be great, but having run in both 2007 and 2015, I brushed it off, figuring it would be fine. I didn't have too much time to obsess, I was focused on making Reya comfortable. By the end of our second week in the hospital, she was absolutely miserable. There were only two things that were making her calm - "Beast" and walking the halls. Thursday night I left Reya with Chris so that I could go to the pre-marathon pasta party at Casey's, our Thursday night run. I wasn't in great spirits, but it was uplifting to see friends and get my mind off of Reya. I went home to sleep, alone in the house overnight for the first time in 9 years, while Chris slept at the hospital for the first time. I also went to work the next day for the first time in two weeks. We were discharged that Friday, and we were all relieved to be going home. If there was any date I had targeted for discharge, it would have been that Friday, so that we'd be home for Running Christmas. It was certainly close, and I had started to strategize what we would do if she were still in the hospital come Marathon Monday.
Once we were home, I was able to focus a little more on the race and, unfortunately, on the weather. My parents were in town, which was beyond helpful. With extra hands, I was able to still do all of the fun marathon traditions - expo, finish line, etc. A bunch of us went to the expo. It was so much fun and as always, really got me excited. Every time I run Boston, I get chills going to the expo to get my number. It is such an exciting privilege to be able to run this race. Later that afternoon, my mom and I went down to check out the finish, another tradition I participate in every year. This year was exciting because there was a meet and greet with some of the Elites. I got to meet Shalane and take a picture with her!
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| Welcome to Boston, runners! |
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| Checking out the finish |
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| Meeting a giant bull mastiff |
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| Shalane! |
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| Look who's smiling! |
Sunday, Chris' brother and his girlfriend came up to see Reya for brunch, then his parents came up for dinner. They all went out for dinner, while Reya and I stayed home to relax a bit. By Sunday, I was in full weather obsession mode. It was clear it was going to be bad, but I don't think any of us understood how bad it could possibly be. I fretted over whether the clothes and shoes I had sent for the post-race hotel were going to be warm enough. I fretted over the water bottle I was going to drop for 30k, which would have new gloves attached to it (This is the one thing I knew I'd need after my experience in 2015). I fretted over the clothes I was going to wear. There were a lot of texts exchanged with other friends who were running. When I went to bed, I was still thinking I'd wear crops, a longsleeve shirt and my singlet. I'd wear a rain jacket that I'd eventually shed.
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| Flat Molly, all ready to go |
When I got up Monday morning and checked the real feel temperatures, I decided to wear a winter weight pant instead. I knew, given the forecast, I would not be hot because I was going to be soaked. This was the only accurate prediction I made. I put my number on my pants so that it would be visible at all times because I knew my pants were the only thing that were definitely not coming off. On top, I put a longsleeve shirt with my singlet. I put arm warmers over my shirt for some extra warmth that could easily come off. I wore the hooded jacket I had received for volunteering last year on top, thinking I'd ditch it by mile 3 or 4. I packed a bag for Chris to bring to 30k. It had a new shirt, new sneakers, new socks, a new jacket. I told him I may or may not stop - if I was having a good race, I would not stop, but if things were marginal or bad I would. I planned to try and be aggressive, mostly just to get it over with.
I am always nervous on Marathon Monday, but usually I am also excited. With the forecast, I struggled to find any of that excitement. All I felt were nerves. I woke up before my alarm, putzed around, trying to occupy myself. I waited for the video crew I had been working with for the last couple months to show up, as they were going to document me getting ready for the race. They showed up and it was go time. They asked me how I was feeling, I said nervous and maybe a twinge disappointed (ok, maybe more than just a twinge). Before I knew it, it was 7:00 and my ride was waiting outside. The video crew got a few more shots and we were off to the bus.
When I got to the bus, it was clear I was definitely not alone in my weather induced nervous dread. There was also a feeling of excitement. A couple non-running club members who had dropped significant others off were also on-board to see us off and wish us well. My friend Victor made me cry as he wished each of us well and told me I was going to destroy this and that he loved me. This was the first time I had ever taken the SRR bus to the start and boy, was it great to be surrounded by friends for this nerve-wracking drive to Hopkinton. We were able to joke and laugh and pass the time pretty quickly. We remarked about how lucky we were to have this bus. We were surrounded by friends and had someplace warm and dry to wait until it was time to go. Most of our fellow runners were sitting down in the cold, wet field amongst strangers. We strategized on our gear. Everything we had on the bus had to go with us or get thrown out. We shared "gorilla tape" for our shoes. One friend gave me a poncho, which kept me dry until the start, when I ditched it, and another gave me food prep gloves, "rain coats for my hands", which stayed with me until mile 23, despite changing my gloves at 30K. Even after the water had seeped into my gloves, the outer layer almost served as a wetsuit, keeping my hands warm despite being wet. It turns out, my time in the hospital left me unable to consider all the throw away gear I might need.
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| Melissa and I on the bus |
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| Wave 4, representing |
One by one, the waves of runners unboarded the bus. Shortly after we got there, the fast guys left for wave 1. Then 20 min later, wave 2. Another 20 min, wave 3. Finally it was our turn. One more trip to the portapotty (the running club buses have their own portapotty bank, which is awesome - no lines!!) and we were off to join the hordes of runners heading to the start. With everyone avoiding traversing the muddy field, it took as about 45 minutes to walk the mile or so to the start. It felt like a death march. People were shedding clothes. I didn't want to shed anything until we were about to run. I had brought an extra pair of sneakers so that I could throw away my wet, muddy ones. I was able to toss the wet muddy sneakers right before making the final turn up to the start on Main St. When we made that turn, I felt panic and chaos. Apparently there was a some sort of technical malfunction and they had done away with the corrals and merged waves 3 and 4. It was a madhouse, but probably worked to our advantage back in wave 4. We showed our numbers and just blended in with the rest of the crowd. It had been a cold, wet walk and I contemplated running in the throw away sweatshirt my friend Melissa had given me on the bus.
THE START
I was finally able to get excited as we approached the start. I was getting ready to run my favorite marathon for the 7th time. Each time has been different and special in its own way, but this one truly felt like a journey. I had managed to stick with two friends of similar pace from SRR. We cried tears of joy and jumped up and down in excitement. It was definitely raining (hard!) but I barely remember it raining at the start. And then, we were off!! I got about a quarter mile in before I decided to ditch my sweatshirt. Within a mile, I lost my friends. I was ok with this, I had a slightly more aggressive plan and felt good, so I went with it. As we barreled down the first big hill, I heard loud cheers. I looked to my right and there was a family of kids outside in the bathing suits. All I could think is, OMG, they must be cold! Then we passed the biker bar on the left. More loud cheers. All I could think is, well, they're probably not feeling the cold. For the first 5-6 miles, I felt great. I was averaging 8:20s and felt pretty excited. As I passed the dozens and dozens of runners from Children's, I thanked each one and told them how my daughter had been discharged three days before. Around mile 2 or 3, my friend Dennis passed me, and I cheered him on. Then I passed my friend Heather and I cheered for her. The rest of my friends I never saw. We were all running incognito in ponchos and jackets.
ASHLAND
I don't remember much about Ashland, other than the fact that I saw the banner and I felt good.
FRAMINGHAM
This is where the weather started to take its toll on me. I had stopped feeling good around mile 6. I was still holding my pace, I just wasn't feeling as good. I can picture the hill where I stopped feeling good. As we came upon the commuter rail station, we came upon the first big clump of spectators. Such a welcome sight. Usually, I hate Framingham, as it is one of the uglier, more boring portions of the course, but this year, the crowds were thick and loud. I needed them. They pushed me through Framingham and into Natick.
NATICK
I have a lot of memories in Natick. For years, my friend Jen lived here and would cheer me on at mile 8. I thought about her as I passed her old condo community. Then at mile 9, I saw the Tufts cheer zone. I ran for them for 3 years, so more memories. I saw coach Don waiting patiently for his runners, presumably with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He didn't see me. By this point, I was feeling kind of lousy. My legs had no turnover and were already sore. They felt like they weighed a thousand pounds, which they probably did with the water logged sneakers. I couldn't have gone out too fast...I had run my last training run on the same course at the same pace just three weeks prior....and felt great the entire 20 miles. Into Natick center. The crowds were great again. On the other side of Natick center, there were two miles of nothing, but somehow these miles passed and I knew were were heading into Wellesley
WELLESLEY
Oh thank God. You are welcomed into Wellesley by the Wellesley college girls and the infamous "scream tunnel" We all needed that at this point. We had been poured on and it was clear that the usual runner camaraderie was not there. No one was talking. The runners on the course were silent, which is remarkable because runners are typically a garrulous, loud bunch. But the Wellesley college girls were there to cheer us on. It was thin, but they were loud. They all looked like they had been swimming, so I could only imagine what we looked like. I was happy to get this boost from them. Into Wellesley Center. More crowds. Thank God. Halfway point. Somehow my pace was still good, though I was fighting desperately not to walk. I don't remember much about this stretch, but I think I spent much of the next two miles reflecting upon past years, and somehow, I fought my way to the big downhill at mile 15. Right before this downhill, I spotted a fellow SRR invitational runner, Chris Lupien. I exchanged a few words with him, but I didn't have enough energy to continue conversation or keep up with him, so I held back and let him go.
NEWTON
Grossman's hill. I hate this downhill and the uphill that follows it. It kills your legs. But I was so glad to see that Newton banner. Three more towns to go. Newton, Brookline, Boston. The stretch following this downhill is known as deadman's curve. It's an uphill stretch of road that goes over Rt 128 / 95. In a typical year, there are no spectators here. It is boring and ugly and can be hot. But not today. To my surprise, the off ramp to 128 was filled with crowds giving us their all. What a relief. I saw my favorite sign around this point "Boston 2018, the world's largest wet t-shirt contest" Up and over the hill. I was starting to find that, given the conditions, walking the hills was faster than running them so, I walked about half of it, then decided to give running a go again. Getting over this hill is always a big milestone for me. It brings me within two miles of 30K where I know my teammates are waiting. I trudged forward. Newton- Wellesley Hospital. I thought of seeing my friend Brian there one Marathon Monday many years ago after the birth of their first child, Connor. Past the Woodland t-stop. More crowds. Another quiet mile through Newton, then the firehouse! The right at the firehouse always perks me up. This turn marks the first (and in my opinion, the worst) of the three Newton hills. I ran most of this hill. At this point, it was mostly survival until I could get to 30K. One mile to go. I passed the 18 mile mark. Started the downhill. Almost there. I unzipped my jacket, to make sure my singlet was visible for the spotters. I didn't think I'd still have this jacket on, but it kept me dry for about 12 miles, then for the rest of the time, it kept my body heat in. It seemed to take forever to get there. Then I saw the spotters - I don't really remember who was spotting, but they were excited to see me. By the time I arrived at 30K, I was so tired, stiff, and wet. I was looking forward to some dry gear. I spotted my dad, then Chris, then the video crew. I pulled off the course and right into the tent, stripping my clothes. Members of my team surrounded me. Its all a little blurry, I was a little delirious, but I remember Kate, Sarah W, and Alison L acting as my pit crew, along with Chris and my dad. I was certain I needed to save Florentien's food prep gloves, as I thought they'd help me get through the next 8 miles, so Alison took charge of those. I changed my shoes, my shirt, my jacket, and my gloves. I put the food prep gloves back over my regular gloves, like I was scrubbing in to surgery. Kate offered me a rice krispy treat, which I declined because I didn't have the energy to eat it. I told them how brutal it was out there. I was also aware I didn't want to spend much time there because I really just wanted to be done. The more time I spent there, the longer it would be until it was over. I was also aware that the longer I spent there, the less likely I'd be to get started again. So off I went. It was so nice to be dry. Then I stepped in a puddle. Ugh. Being dry was nice while it lasted, all of a half mile.
Right after 30K, you go up the second of the three hills. I knew that my co-worker and work husband, Paul, might be here because his parents live there, so I made my way to the right hand side. He's really tall, and it was not crowded, so he was easy to spot. I ran over to him and gave him a soggy hug and up the hill I went. I don't remember if I ran or walked this hill, but I think I ran. Somewhere in the next mile or two a friend snapped the only shot I have of me running this brutal race.
HEARTBREAK HILL
Not a town, but certainly worthy of its own headline. The third of the three hills. Usually Heartbreak Hill is 2-3 deep with people cheering and picnicking. There were people cheering, but it was pretty thin. For the first time ever, I walked most of this hill. I was so tired. Everything hurt. On these uphills, it was faster to walk than run. My new strategy was to run on any downhills and walk on any uphills. In between, I'd try to run as much as possible. I finally got the energy to run again as I got to the top of the hill. Just as I crested the hill, the skies opened up with a torrential downpour. It was comical, but not at the time. It was the kind of downpour that if you got caught in it in the summer, you'd scream and run for cover. But we'd been out in these conditions for 3 hours at this point, so no one reacted. Other than the few spectators cheering, it was silent on course. As I mentioned before, usually there is a camaraderie amongst runners, but not in this race. No one was talking. We were all miserable. It was bizarre and one of the most remarkable things I noticed.
Once you get over heartbreak, you have crested the last big hill. The last 6 miles are mostly downhill with a few small uphills. You are greeted by the BC students, most of whom have been drinking since they woke up. This year was no exception. The BC students were there, and they were having a good time despite the weather. The crowds were thick and powered me through. Before I knew it, I was making the turn into Cleveland Circle.
BOSTON
For about a half mile before entering Cleveland Circle, you are in Boston. This is such a relief, but also a tease. You have traversed 6 towns at this point and Boston is the destination. There are over 4 miles to go.
BROOKLINE
Into Cleveland Circle and Brookline we go. Watch the train tracks. They call this section the meat grinder. The course has destroyed your legs, then it's downhill into Cleveland Circle. As you turn onto Beacon Street, there is a set of train tracks. I was particularly aware of these this year. I feared they would be slippery. I got across them and trudged on. Four more miles, mostly through Brookline. I can do this. Down Beacon I go. I thought about the awesome training run I had had there back in February, and how good I felt that day. There is a hill going up into Washington Square. I walk it. At this point, I'm walking all the hills and all of the water stops. Mile 23. The Nutritionist from the hospital had told me she'd be here, so I keep my eyes out for her. I don't see her, but at least it gave me something to do for a mile. Mile 24. Coolidge Corner. Ok....I really can do this. I keep seeing the same runners around me. There's a Children's runner with a shirt that says "For Emily" I want to talk to him, but can't seem to get close enough to him, nor do I have the energy to initiate conversation. There's another girl, I think she was wearing white and had a curly ponytail, who has been running around me since the beginning. I make my way down Beacon Street, being sure to run the downhills. We come through St Mary's t-stop. I think about the hospital, since it is not far from this section of the course. I spot Mt Citgo (the hill leading us up and over the Mass Pike and into Kenmore Square). I walk this hill and then make a promise to myself not to walk again. We're almost there.
BOSTON (again)
Kenmore Square. At last. Home stretch. We were going to make it. The Citgo Sign. In a normal year, you can see the citgo sign from miles away, this year, you couldn't see it until you were right underneath it. It was also painted in the road with "one mile to go". After 25 miles in the rain, one more didn't seem too bad. This is, afterall, the best mile in marathoning. Under the Mass Ave overpass. There were a few runners gathered here where it was dry, I'm not really sure what they were doing. I knew when we came out of this overpass, the famous turn was next. Right on Hereford, left on Boylston. A murmur went through the wave of runners. We were all aware of it.
THE FINISH
The crowds thickened. It was time to turn. Hereford St. I had never seen a more beautiful site. The road was littered with different colored ponchos. It was pretty, but also a little dangerous as everyone stripped their brightly colored protective gear and discarded it so they could cross the finish in the outfit they had planned to run in. Runners were crying, I was crying...we had been through a lot and it was such a relief to be here. Left on Boylston. This is the greatest finish of any marathon I have ever run. You make that turn and there it is. The finish line. The crowds are deafening, and even in this weather, they did not disappoint. I spotted an SRR headband and called out to the person, she didn't see me. But just a few people over, I spotted an ex-coworker spectating, who also spotted me and screamed my name. I tried to soak it all in. It was glorious. I cried some more. I had waited all day for this moment, and now I didn't want it to end. As I neared the finish, I pulled over to the left side. I knew the camera crew had set up cameras over there. I've done this enough times that I also knew that if you come across the finish on the left side, they usually announce your name. Sure enough, as I approached I heard them call out "Molly Crellin of Arlington, MA" A moment of glory. I was no longer feeling the burning in my tired legs, the aching in my back or the fact that I was drenched from head to toe, as if I had jumped into Walden Pond fully clothed, and that I had been drenched for over 4 hours, probably closer to 5. I crossed the line, triumphantly, laughing and crying. I stood there a moment or two, trying to bask in the moment.
I hung around a few more minutes, not wanting it to be over. Ironic, given how just an hour earlier, at 30K, I felt like it could not have been over soon enough. Many others were just hanging out like I was, looking back up Boylston St from where we had come. I couldn't tell you what the weather was like at that moment, I was so focused on the fact that I had finally finished, but it was probably raining. As I stood there, perfect strangers came up to me and we hugged as if we were long lost friends. Undoubtedly, these were people I had been running near for the last few miles. Everyone was just so elated to be finished. I didn't want to leave, but I knew I had to. I knew the longer I waited, the more likely I was to get cold and I knew that would happen really fast. I snapped a selfie and made my way through the finisher chute to get my medal, my poncho, and my food. Next stop - Boston Park Plaza.
THE PARK PLAZA
Getting to the Park Plaza felt like a marathon itself. The finish line is between Exeter and Dartmouth St. The Park Plaza is at Arlington. The streets are alphabetical in the Back Bay. I took a right on Berkeley, left on St. James. At St James, there was an additional medical tent. It was gigantic. I could feel the heat coming out of the tent. I contemplated going inside to get warm before heading up to the hotel room, but I also knew I needed to keep moving. Everything hurt when I stopped. So I plugged forward. Into the lobby, which was packed - runners, families, spectators. It's always packed. I trudged towards the elevator and tried to remember the number of the hotel room. I knew it was on the 6th floor. The elevator line was ridiculous. I didn't know how I was going to wait. It hurt really bad to stand still and I was afraid I was going to keel over. Then an angel (well, actually a hotel manager) appeared out of nowhere and offered us the service elevator. No one hesitated and back we went into the bowels of the Park Plaza, and up the service elevator to the 6th floor. I came out and a girl asked me if I was looking for SRR. I couldn't figure out how she knew, but now I realize I had my SRR hat on...lol. As is customary, as the door opened, everyone cheered. I was so happy to finally be there in that warm room surrounded by friends. Tina got me some soup. It was the best tomato soup I've ever had. Every thing ached. The one thing I had been dreaming of since about mile 22 was ibuprofen. Tina, who thinks of everything, had it waiting for us. My entire body ached. I was shivering. There was a line for the shower, so I decided to just go ahead and change into my dry clothes while I waited. My teeth finally stopped chattering. I let a friend go in front of me because she looked colder than me. The shower should have felt good, but I realized I had some pretty bad chaffing. It was good to be warm and dry again. I thanked Tina for the hospitality, the potato chips, soup, and ibuprofen and was on my way to the T to head home.
It is always so weird to me to get on the T to ride home alone. In a city packed with runners, I was the only runner in my subway car. Chris picked me up in Davis while my dad ran out to get pizza. The camera crew was on their way over to video my homecoming. I reunited with my family, ate some pizza, and headed back out to the post-race party to trade war-stories. Now that we were all dry and fed, it was nice to hear about every one else's day. Most of us had suffered similarly.
It was certainly a day to remember. I don't think I've ever been that sore in my life. I walked down the stairs backwards for three days. I could barely walk for two. I tried running last Monday, a week after the marathon, and everything hurt. I've run twice more and biked three times, and each time, my body feels a bit better.
I finished in 4:09 and change. I didn't know that number for sure until a couple of hours later. It didn't matter to me. I had done the best that I could, I had finished, and that was going to have to be enough. It was not about performance at the 122nd Boston Marathon, it was about survival. A true feat of endurance, the hardest marathon I have ever run. My conservative goal had been to come in under 4 hours, so it was a little hard not to be disappointed, but I am pleased that not only had I finished, which was never a given, it was also not my slowest marathon. As I've talked to other friends who ran, most were in similar situations. More than half of the elites did not finish and those who did, ran significantly slower. The women's winner, Des Linden, ran a time that was about 15 minutes slower than if the weather had been optimal.
It was hard, but I got through. I have two little girls at home who have been through worse. Mireya's recent surgery and hospital stay gave me wings on this difficult day. I thought of her in my toughest moments and knew quitting wasn't an option this year. It would have felt worse to quit. I ran this race in her honor of all she has been through so far in her short life. This story ended in triumph, the same way I hope hers will.
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| Me, my girls, and my trusty Bob |
I hope you can take the time to check out this 9 minute documentary we have been working on for the last two months. Above Summit captured my family perfectly. They have given us an incredible gift and I'm thrilled to share it with the world:
Racing Hearts
If you’d like to donate to my run for Boston Children’s at the New York Marathon, here is the link to my page:
Miles for Miracles - Molly Crellin
So far, I've raised over $4000 and am currently in first place. I'd like to get to $10K before New York. I've got 6 months to go :)
So far, I've raised over $4000 and am currently in first place. I'd like to get to $10K before New York. I've got 6 months to go :)
This is so amazing. Love you Molly! Was happy to be part of this weekend. Missed being on the course but loved being with your little ones...Yay Molly!!
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