Lincoln Park Pacers - PaceSetter Newsletter May 2003

Newsletter - May 2003

BOSTON MARATHON - 2003
by Janet Omer

THE LONDON MARATHON AND OTHER ADVENTURES
By Monica O'Hara and Kate Handley

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BOSTON MARATHON - 2003
by Janet Omer

When I started running in 1996 the Boston Marathon was not even on my radar screen. But no one can run seriously for very long before Boston comes in to view. By 2001 I had done five marathons and I thought that I might be able to qualify for 2002. I didn’t. I fell short by three minutes. I had trained extremely hard and felt equally disappointed until I learned that although I hadn’t qualified for 2002, simply moving in to the next age group would qualify me for 2003. I was so excited to have the opportunity to run Boston that I might have been the only person in the world who could hardly wait to turn 60!

As April 2003 got closer, my excitement began to change to low-level anxiety. Unlike our recent Chicago winters, the winter of 2003 was bitterly cold. I was training with Joanne Kaeding who was doing her second Boston, and on more than one occasion we were forced to do our long runs all the way south in order to avoid the north winds. We would then take a taxi or a bus home. In addition, although by now I had done seven marathons, all had been in Chicago and my last 2002 LaSalle Banks Marathon had been, to put it mildly, less than inspiring. Under the circumstances, we decided to train for a “comfortable” run with a “respectable” time. This meant that we put in the long miles with whatever few hills we could find that weren’t totally wet or covered with ice, but did no speed work. Essentially, our hill training consisted almost entirely of the Cary March Madness half marathon. In retrospect, for those of you who haven’t run Boston, if you’re going to hill train, you need to find some long hills and do them in the middle or at the end of your long runs when you’re feeling really tired. However, after March Madness, both Joanne and I felt that we were as ready as we were going to be.

April 21^st came quickly. I had my usual pre-marathon jitters, only worse. I kept thinking about how I would feel at the 18 mile mark running up and down big hills during my first out of town marathon and it occurred to me that not finishing might be a real possibility. On the positive side, it was reassuring to have the company of an experienced Boston runner.

The marathon would be on Monday. We left on Friday morning. The flight we took was noticeable for the unusual number of fit trim passengers on board with their duffle bags and Boston jackets. I got some advice from the man across the isle from me: “don’t expect to do your best time in Boston.” This advice would excuse a slow time, but it didn’t do much for my confidence.

Friday evening we met friends at the Alle Dente restaurant in the North End of Boston to begin our “pasta loading” with an excellent Italian meal. We followed dinner with a visit to the nearby Bova bakery for freshly baked bread and pastry. A glass of red wine and the evening was complete. Still, I was much too excited to sleep that night. The current thinking is that the most important sleep occurs two nights before the marathon, but I had no reason to believe Saturday night would be any better. I added to my pre-marathon jitters the worry of how I would run a marathon with no sleep at all.

Saturday morning we picked up our bib numbers at the expo. I had never seen an expo as crowded as Boston. There was, literally, standing room only. We left as quickly as we could. I am happy to say that by Saturday night, with a little help from my friends, I did sleep very soundly.

Except for an easy two mile run, Sunday was a day of rest and staying off our feet.

In the evening the Boston Athletic Association put on the inevitable marathon pasta dinner. What made this one special was the opportunity to talk to experienced runners from all over the world. I sat at a table that turned out to be predominantly Canadian. Curiously, one of their worries seemed to be how Americans would react to them since Canada had not supported the Iraq War. I assured them that at least in major cities such as Boston our opinions and beliefs were probably as diverse as those in Toronto, but privately I wondered if they really thought of us as a somewhat violent people.

Monday morning, bright and early, the runners get bused out of Boston to the suburb of Hopkinton. The slower runners have to take the earliest buses, so we were on the bus by 6:30 a.m. Because the weather in Boston at this time of year is notoriously variable, I took a running outfit for every possible season with me to Hopkinton. As it turned out, it was a beautiful sunny day, 70 at the start, 58 at the finish, and I had everything but what I really needed – sunscreen! Who would have thought that we were going to get a typical Southern California day? By the end of the race some of us definitely resembled Maine lobsters.

Everyone sits out in a tented area called Athletes Village until the race starts at noon. We threw our plastic tarp on the cold ground and tried to sleep for a while, but of course that didn’t happen. Instead I roamed around enjoying the great weather and talking to other runners. Johnny Kelly, two time Olympian and runner of 61 Boston marathons, also made an appearance to give us a few words of encouragement. He is 95 years old now, and it was a privilege to hear him speak.

The course begins with a nice long downhill. After waiting four hours to start the race, the pent up energy and crowd excitement tempt you to take this hill with everything you’ve got, an excellent way to trash your legs and blister your feet right at the start line. Fortunately, Joanne had warned me about this, and we survived the first hill nicely. In fact, we survived all the hills quite nicely, but underestimated the amount of time we were spending at the water stops which appeared at about one mile intervals. This, and a short period of looking for each other at mile 16, probably caused us to miss our re-qualification time (by two seconds!). Nevertheless, I was pleased because I managed to have one of the strongest finishes I’ve ever had. After mile 22 the miles seemed to fly by rather than getting longer and longer as they usually do. My brother and sister, who had come to be my fan club, told me they had expected to see me come limping in, but instead Joanne and I went by so quickly they barely had time to take a picture. Recognition of our second achievement came the next day at our hotel. One of the hotel clerks asked us, “How come you’re not walking like the rest of them?” What could I say? Hey, I’m a Boston runner now!

-- Janet Omer

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THE LONDON MARATHON AND OTHER ADVENTURES

As has become usual, the decision to run the London Marathon came about during a typical Saturday morning Pacer breakfast last December. Kate Handley was trying to decide whether or not she wanted to take on a spring marathon, and if so, which one. I’d been thinking awhile about doing London, so I suggested we plan a trip to London and Ireland around the London Marathon.

Kate’s version: Monica made me do it.

We made our travel and hotel arrangements in London via a Marathon Tours Package, and for our travels to Ireland afterwards; we relied on the advice of friends, travel guides, and the Internet. On our part, we trained diligently through a brutally cold (and often windy) winter in Chicago. Kate worked with Greg Domantay’s program and I relied on friends Dao & Mark to challenge me through my long runs.

The big day arrived on April 10, 2003. Kate and I boarded our separate flights and met up about 8 am the next morning in Heathrow. We took the Underground (aka: the Tube) to our hotel, a plush Crowne Plaza near St James Park, with Buckingham Palace at the end of our street. We had lunch and checked in around noon. After a good nap on a very comfortable bed, we took the train out to the London Arena where the Expo was being held. It was teaming with runners and vendors, but we were able to pick up our numbers without too much hassle. That evening, we had dinner at an excellent Indian restaurant by the hotel. Later on, I met up with my old friend Judy Caruso, from Albuquerque, NM, who was running London as her first marathon. She was excited and nervous!

That night (Friday), we crashed around 11 pm, and didn't wake up till 11 am the next day. My friend Rudolph Stewart (now living in London for the last 3.5 years) met up with us at the hotel (which happens to be a 2 minute walk from his office bldg), and took us out to the Brixton area of London (via the Tube) for lunch. Brixton has a Caribbean charm to it, with all kinds of cool stores, restaurants and open markets. We had a delicious lunch there, and wandered around taking in all the exotic foods and sights. We returned to the hotel and met up with Nicky Robinson (a brand new Chicago LP Pacer member who originally hails from England), and she and her friends took us to Soho for a great pre-race pasta dinner. Soho is definitely a happening plan, teeming with young people, and the food was wonderful. We went a few doors down to an Italian bakery after dinner, which was a nice way to top off the evening.

I slept like a rock that evening (Saturday), but 6 am came all too early.

Kate: I was awake almost all night.

We gathered our gear and stumbled on the bus that took us to the starting line, which left at 7 am. It was very chilly out, and we had about two hours to stress about what to wear during the race, and whether or not we really needed to use the Port-A-Loos for a third time (yes...).

Kate: I went behind a tree. Who has time for those lines? Joanne Kaeding made me do it.

The London Marathon has three different starts that merge together around mile 3. Kate and I were in the Red Start, and I was in Stage 2, which was fairly close to the front. Anyways, we joined the packed crowds at the starting line and waited for the gun to go off at 9:45. Just before we started, I realized I would not need the headband, long sleeve t-shirt & gloves that I was still wearing. So they came off, and were tied or tucked somewhere on or around my body. It was a bright sunny day, and warming up quickly.

Kate: It was damn hot.

Although I really tried to look around and enjoy the sights along the course, I felt fatigued early on in the race. Although the course was gently rolling, it was not very shady, and the sun was draining. I started out at a conservative pace (around 7:45s) and there was no lack of refreshments; water and/or Lucozade were available at least every mile, if not even more often. What I wasn't prepared for was the crowded course, the heat, and the narrow streets. I had people jostling around me the whole way. It was really a different experience. Needless to say, to my horror, I started to really feel bad; after the Half Marathon, my pace dropping to 8:15's and 8:30's, and there was even a 9 minute mile in there. Yikes! I never felt horrible, but I never felt good, either. I certainly didn't expect to run some 9-minute miles there -Luckily; I did rally after about mile 23 and actually finished feeling pretty strong and grateful to have finished at all! My time was 3:33.13.

After getting my medal and my goody bag (no kidding, it weighed about 10 lbs and looked it contained a week's worth of groceries!) I wandered around the Finish area for about 2 hours, trying to figure out how to get back to my Hotel - which, though only a half mile from the finish, required one to cross the marathon route... so I ended up taking the Underground back to the Hotel. Kate was there, completely wiped out, already back in bed, and disappointed by her results. Although it was a PR for her (4:22:36), she was in great shape going in and had hoped to run closer to 4 hr flat.

Kate: From mile 18 on, I really thought I was going to “give back” all that I had ingested (aka: puke).

We napped for a couple hours, then our friend Rudolph (who also cheered us on along the way), took us out to the Islington area of London for a nice Turkish dinner with his partner Spencer. We really liked that area, too: lots of hip stores, restaurants and bars.

Monday morning we met up with Rudolph near his job for coffee and breakfast. From there we took the Underground to the airport to catch our flight to Shannon, Ireland. We arrived around 5 pm, picked up the rental car. There were some tense moments for me as I eased that stick shift into reverse and headed out into those windy hilly roads of Ireland, driving on the left side of the road for the first time in my life! We headed out to Galway, which was about an 80-mile drive from Shannon, and arrived there around 8 pm. Although the first B&B we stopped at did not have a double room, the place she recommended (DeSoto B&B) had plenty of room, was very lovely, and only a 10 minute walk from downtown Galway.

We really enjoyed our days in Galway. The first day we were there (Tuesday), we explored the shops and restaurants in Galway city. There were plenty of great places to eat, and we sampled seafood, Indian and Italian fare on successive nights. A hearty breakfast was provided at the B&B, and our lunches were usually sandwiches made with fresh bread.

Wednesday we drove up to the ferry at Rossaveal, about 23 miles away, that took us out to the Aran Islands; where we spent a good part of the day touring the largest Island, Inis Mor. We found a charming tour guide, Thomas O'Toole, who took us around the isle in his weather-beaten red van and told us about the history and the local gossip. It was a sunny, wind swept day. We visited several forts, castles and Monastic sites. The roads (like most roads in Ireland) were very narrow, hilly and winding. We also visited several areas of the island from where, Thomas assured us, on a clear day you could see Boston… after 4 pints of Guinness, that is.

On Thursday morning we said good-bye to our wonderful and friendly proprietress, Margaret Walsh, and headed out of Galway. We made on last stop at the University of Galway to see if Kate could find a t-shirt for Tim, her boyfriend, but unfortunately, the campus was closed down for Spring break. My nephew Patrick O'Hara did a semester exchange at University of Galway while he was in college. The grounds of the campus and some of the old buildings were gorgeous.

From Galway we drove south, stopping for a great lunch in and a little window-shopping at the quaint town of Ballyvaughan, then onward along the coastal road, through Doolin, to the Cliffs of Moher. Again, it was a gorgeous, clear day, and we enjoyed the incredible views of the rocky beaches, emerald hills, and pounding waves along the shoreline.

Although we'd heard about the stunning beauty of the Cliffs of Moher, it still took my breath away. The series of 7-8 cliffs in this stretch are 800m tall and about 8K long. On the northern side is a fort, and you can easily jump over the fence (which many brave tourist did) to take photos right along the edge of the cliffs. We walked along about a half mile or so and took lots of pictures.

From there we drove to Ennis, the Capital of Clare, and found a B&B just outside the City Centre. Most of the shops were closed early for Holy Thursday, and not a lot of restaurants were open. We went to a traditional Irish pub and were a little disappointed with the food, and the fact that everyone around us was smoking in the No Smoking section (which was just about 1-2 tables.) Lots of smokers in Ireland!

Friday morning we returned the rental car to the Shannon airport, and took a bus to Limerick, where lunched at Sully’s deli and walked around a beautiful park by the train station. It was another perfect weather day. From Limerick, it was a 2.5 hour train ride to Dublin, where we grabbed a cab to a nice B&B on the north side of the City.

That evening we shared our final dinner at an Indian restaurant, and called it an early night. I caught an early flight Saturday to Chicago via London, and Kate spent the day exploring Dublin. More from Kate on that!

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