I knew this was gonna be a bad one. I was injured near the beginning of the week before, then I got the flu at the end of the week (At least I think it was the flu, I was totally delirious and felt like hell, missing three days of work). I tried following the 3:10 pace group. Given the crowds, our first few miles were slow (~8:30's), so they picked it up at mile 3, running 6:40's until we were on pace again. Of course, by then I had trouble slowing down so I surged ahead a little. I tried to convince myself that this was going to be it, that I would qualify for Boston if I just was tenacious enough, but around mile 13 I was already feeling a little a bit tired. At mile 17, I stopped for water and that was it. From then on it took a supreme amount of effort just to start moving again. I saw another guy walking in front of me, he lowered his head sadly, and tore off what I realized was his pace band. Before I knew it, I had done the same. I thought about giving up, just cutting my losses and trying another marathon in a month or so, but I knew my family and my girlfriend would be there waiting for me at the finish line, so I pressed on. God, did those last 9 miles take forever. When I crossed the finish line, my mom said I looked like death. My body was completely dehydrated (despite taking in powerade at every mile), and I was completely stiff.

Regardless, it was worth it. My mom, my sister, Laura, Gina, her boyfriend, and Angela all came out to congratulate me.

Not get sick before a race. Pace myself a little better at the beginning. Practice running in the heat more often. Take in more fluids on my Sunday longs.

Not much. Really stiff.


It was a wonderful race. Great view of the city, lots of volunteers and spectators. Just wish I had had a better run.