Boston

A week and a half ago, I took a trip back east for Boston. I wasn't actually running Boston, I just really wanted to be there.

I got to see my family, my friends, my old coach, and (more importantly) my two German Shepherds. As much as I'd love to write all of you an elaborate explanation of how absolutely adorable Bowzer is and how I could squeeze his giant head all day if only Yoshi (who is also cute) weren't so goddamn jealous all the time, or how awesome my mom's birthday dinner was, this is a running blog, so I'll spare you the details. Reluctantly.

But here's a picture of Bowzer anyways

Everyone knows about the Boston Marathon, but far fewer know about the B.A.A. 5K which is run the same weekend. It always has an awesome elite field. Since Providence is my hometown, I'm a huge Molly Huddle and Kim Smith fan. Amy Hastings, too, but I'd be lying if I said I followed her as much as I follow the other two. Kim Smith won in 2013, but wasn't in the field this year. Molly Huddle was third in 2013, and she was running. So the Lil' Rhody Running Nerd in me was pretty excited.

I was obviously not in the elite field. I was seeded 346 out of almost 10,000 runners. And I was nervous.

Hence arranging all of my stuff the night before into neat little piles

My teammate Valerie was with me, which made me a little less nervous. We took our time getting over to the start ten minutes early, figuring we'd have time for some strides before making our ways into the seeded corrals. But the race wasn't really organized at all and the corrals weren't seeded and our numbers weren't used for anything. When we tried to get up slightly in front of the 6:00 pace sign, someone with a number in the 2000s actually yelled at us. I tried to explain that the numbers were in order and we were trying to run 5:55 pace and the girl (whose number was in the 5000s) just made a sarcastic comment. So we ignored them and tried to get up a little further before we encountered a wall of runners. At that point we settled for somewhere closer to the 7:00 sign. Whatever.

When the gun went off, nobody around us was actually running that pace either, so we spent the first mile weaving around people who had been dishonest about their times to a slow (for us) 6:07. Valerie stayed calm. Smart girl. I, on the other hand, totally panicked and hammered an all-out second mile. And then I was done. I dragged my burning legs slowly to the finish as Valerie ran right on by. I couldn't really feel too upset by my time because I was too busy laughing at myself.

So the race didn't go so well for me. But it did for Molly Huddle, who won and tied the course record. Providence represent!

My race was followed by this:

And this:

And finally this:

As I found myself a spectator of my own sport. I dyed my hair orange with that cheap spray stuff, photographed every elite who ran by, and went nuts for my teammates. At mile twenty where I was standing, between the Newton hills and Heartbreak, most of them looked like they wanted to die, which honestly made it a pretty fun place to watch from. The crowds were going nuts and the lady next to me wouldn't stop blowing her stupid horn in my ear. Boston loves its sports. All of its sports. Including its marathon.

So I witnessed the end of the American drought. I saw some damn fast elite runners. I got to cheer for and photograph my friends and teammates. I even got to do a little run-reporting, the result of which is on my club's website.

It was pretty much the best weekend ever.