Running Heartbreak Hill

I’m staying in Boston this week, about a half mile from the Boston marathon course. I took a run today in the famous Newton hills, ending at the top of Heartbreak Hill. It was raining heavily, and this matched my somber mood as I recalled that today is the one-year anniversary of the marathon bombings. Running along the course on this day solidified my passion for my goal of qualifying for the Boston marathon.

I recalled my 2008 Boston marathon race during that section of the course. This was during miles 16-21, and I was suffering. I really did everything wrong in this race. I was running this race for charity, and I had the brilliant dream of using this opportunity to get my own Boston qualifying time, at Boston. I should have realized at the start line that this goal was not in the realm of realistic given my training season. Despite making an airtight plan for training, life showed me that I can’t always hold to these plans. First, I went out too hard on icy roads early in training and suffered a foot injury, the only significant injury of my running career. Then, my mother became ill. While she was hospitalized for cancer treatment, she had a stroke. I spent a good deal of time in their city during this time supporting the family. So, I went into the marathon with less-than-optimal training. 

My bigger problems came closer to race day when I refused to scale my goals according to reality. My goal was sub-3:40:59 or else. As I retrieved my race packet during the Expo, I started freaking out about whether my shoes were too worn, and bought another pair. Of course, only newbies wear a brand-new pair of shoes on marathon day, but I convinced myself that if I wore the shoes around the house the day before I would be fine. I also accepted some “herbal anti-inflammatory” samples that I took before the start of the race. Bigger mistake. The first rule of marathoning is “nothing new on race day”, and I had broken it not once with new shoes, but twice with these random pills.

My third race-day problem was in my head. My first 3-4 miles went fine, but then I stopped making my “ideal” 8-minute-mile splits around mile 5, and I started losing my confidence. I started feeling every uncomfortable feeling in my brand-new shoes, and started wondering whether I should stop to adjust my socks. I started feeling uncomfortable rumblings in my belly, and worried about what they might mean. My heart started beating harder with the stress of the possibility of not making the goal that I just HAD to make. Our feelings determine our reality, and as I felt worse about my performance, I actually felt worse in real life. 

And that’s when those “herbal anti-inflammatories” kicked in, making me incredibly nauseated. I lost my lunch (and the rest of my confidence) at miles 13 and 15, and hit these hills in Newton feeling defeated. I left an incoherent voicemail for my boyfriend (now husband) who was going to meet me at the finish line, telling him that even though I thought I’d be there by now, that things were not going according to plan.

…

It’s funny to look back now, and see how I’ve changed as a runner and a person. These hills used to seem onerous, but are now no big deal now that I live in San Francisco and run on steep mountain trails. I’ve also matured mentally. In fact, my last two PRs have come from races where I have no specific plan except for having the best possible time. As I construct my plan, I see how important it is to keep my self-talk fun and positive. The current trick is this: how do I have all of the planning and dreaming that went into this 2008 race with the zen acceptance that has lead to my recent PRs? How do I hold onto a dream, but not so tightly it suffocates?