
That night I found myself reading a Runners World article about Boston that described it as the world’s oldest and most prestigious marathon, one that was extremely difficult to qualify for. At the time I only knew of one person who had run Boston. Someone who is a mentor and a friend, they’d told me the world of marathoning has 6 majors and Boston’s the most renowned of them all! But qualifying times looked very tough and the 3h.25min (3h.20min now) for my age group looked like a massive far cry. But the Boston bug had bitten me and it never left my mind. The first few races were half marathons where I tried to improve timing hoping to break 90mins and impress friends. We traveled near and far to find races that looked like good PR setups and ended up doing well in some shaving off nearly 15mins from the PR and (eventually) clocking 1h.28min at one of them. But getting past 13.1 seemed impossible. There was no gas left the tank and it seemed like I had peaked at that distance. I tried a lot of different training regimes but could not get past 13-14 miles. Then came the turning point – a cousin of mine who had run the London Marathon told me about Run Less Run Faster an amazing book with a disruptive approach to distance running. Running fewer days, reducing the pace and gradually increasing the distance seemed to do the trick. I ran my first long distance run a few weeks later – an 18miler at an extremely slow pace tracking about 9mins/mile. It was very hard to slow down at first but the run went down easier than I had expected. A lot of things fell into place after that and though many ups and downs I kept running. However, it took another year before I finally fully committed to running a full marathon and started the 16 week training.
Eliud Kipchoge once said “Only the disciplined are truly free” and therein lies the holy grail. Running a marathon is a very hard thing - it forces you to plan, it forces you to persist, it forces you to get disciplined and that’s what ultimately sets you free. The training was painful at the start, the Sunday long runs were the most miserable thing and I dreaded those. Waking up early and getting out to run 20miles every Sunday – rain or shine, balancing family life, work related travel all while trying not to get injured and gradually building up strength was very hard work. 2 weeks before the first full marathon I twisted my ankle during an easy taper run and that wiped out a nearly 6 month build-up. The second try came off the rails when we decided to join friends for a 2 week RV trip in Iceland! Starting the 3rd attempt all over again seemed like pushing a massive boulder up the hill but somehow it kept rolling after I got it started and this time, I was able to stick to the plan. In Nov 2018 I ran my first full marathon clocking a 3h.18m.xx in my very first attempt and making BQ. But a month ago the qualifying times for Boston got tightened by 5 mins and what would have been a safe margin before seemed like hanging by my fingernails. Not wanting to take a risk I ran the California International Marathon (CIM) 4 weeks later hoping to take advantage of the training, mild weather and what looked like a decent downhill course (it has many rolling hills in fact). I did worse clocking in a 3h.22min. But by now I was sucked fully in the vortex of qualifying for Boston –and was consumed by that goal every waking moment.
Giving up was not an option so I signed up for a Revel Race (Mt.Charleston, NV) 4 months later in April 2018. I trained hard, tapered well and was in outstanding shape felling really great going into that race and did extremely well nearly till the end. But it was a very hot day in Las Vegas and the 88F finally tore me down at mile 23. I hit the wall walking the last 3 miles to put up a 3h.40min. Disappointed, deflated and defeated, I was still unwilling to give up and by the end of that day signed up again for another full marathon – a difficult mountain race 4 weeks later. I rested out for 2 weeks did a few short runs as my taper and waited hoping (once again) that the previous training would carry me through it. Unfortunately, 2 days prior to, the mild weather turned was showing another 80F forecast. Not wanting to risk it – I dropped from the race feeling like this was the final checkmate. Time was running out – it was getting hot and there weren’t too many races left before September. Plus, the thought of signing up for something 18 weeks out was just too daunting. I am 44 now and have the advantage to qualify in the 45-49yr bracket for Boston which would be lost in 6 months. So sometime on a Sunday afternoon in late May I opened up a US map and started going state by state looking for a flat (USATF certified) full marathon course. Many were sold out, others were in places that were too hot, windy or otherwise courses that were not ideal.


Against all logic I decided to actually run back to that group and ask some more runners. Luckily
one of them said they had some extra tablets but suggested we meet at the next aid station. It was going to cost a few minutes to join a 3.30pace group but the risk of a cramp was not worth taking so I joined the pack. We stopped somewhere around mile 16 and the nice man gave me 2 tablets. I popped them both, thanked him for being so kind, we high fived and I pushed ahead. The next 5 miles had to be fast – I picked up pace to make up for the lost time. Tiredness was setting in rapidly, the hard push at late stage had not helped. It is afterall a marathon and at some point it will try to break you. For most runners that moment arrives between miles 19-21 when you hit that dreaded wall. The first 20 miles are just a warmup, it’s the last 6.2miles (10K) that tests what you are made up of. As I passed mile 20 the cramping had started to flare up again, a slight change in posture was triggering muscle tightness. I tried to hold steady but the form was breaking down. By mile 23, I was struggling and in full panic mode. Its hard to describe the blackness and the pain that swallows you through those last few miles. I tried to stay present and not slip away. There were two runners ahead of me and we decided to start talking. It helped some but the wheels were starting to come off rapidly. I told the guys best of luck and started walking thinking some rest might help make the final push. Time was ticking as I continued to walk, quick look at the Garmin– 2 miles to go – this was slipping away. There was no one in sight – no runners no spectators only the forest and a long empty trail. I limped into a slow run dragging my left leg, not bending it ever so slightly and praying a full-blown cramp won’t break out.
By now I could hear faint noises in the distance. I am not sure when I passed the last mile markers but as the trail turned the sounds had grown louder. It was hard to see clearly at first, my face was covered in a lot of salt and it was burning through my eyes. Several alarms were going off on the Garmin – pace, heart rate, finish time were all off, 3h.12min elapsed time, 1.2 miles to go – even at a 7.30 pace this was all but over. I was dazed and fading in and out of consciousness. The distinct sound of a bell clanging woke me up. There were two girls holding a large red bell. One of them was waving at me and kept screaming something. I wasn’t sure how they got there or what she was trying to say. Everything was moving in slow motion and her voice was coming in waves. They were saying something about the finish line. I walked closer and asked how far it was – she pointed at the 26mile marker and then towards a large green inflatable. It didn’t make any sense; I was still 1.2miles away on the Garmin but the mile marker was showing 0.2miles left. Where did I miscalculate, how could my trusted Garmin be so off? It seemed like some kind of a miracle was unfolding in real time but my mind was too tired to compute what was going on. All I knew was there was a chance although I didn’t know how much of it was left. It was enough though to jolt me back up and just as soon as I woke up, the wall of sound hit. It hit like a lightening bolt – there were people, hundreds of them, all around, all shouting, cheering, bells clanging, lots of noise. I knew I had to move, it was now or never. I broke into a run staring emptily and endlessly into the eyes of people lining that trail – their energy driving me forward and forward one step at a time. As I made past the finish line the clock showed 3h.15min – it was unbelievable but somehow it felt real and I knew it was done. A lot of things happen very quickly after you cross the line at a big marathon, there’s volunteers with water, food, medals and ice packs, bigger crowds, timing tents and more photographers, its quite a carnival and its loud!

So why do we run and what did I gain by running a marathon or qualifying for Boston. If fitness is a goal, there are many easier (safer) ways to get fit and stay healthy. Why do people run marathons? What started out as a chase for glory (a Boston Marathoner who stood amongst the greats and has a Unicorn to show for it) somewhere turned into a quest for ultimate perfection, a deep desire to reach for the impossible and push my body and spirit just to see if it could be done. It was no longer about impressing anyone – it had become something more than that. I had found deeper meaning. Most people have heard that running a marathon is a very difficult thing, it goes way beyond that. Training to deal with a lot of pain over a very long period of time alters your perception about a lot of things in life. There’s something about running that distance that changes you as a person. Most of me is the same old self but in many ways, I am a much better version of myself.

The other thing running teaches you the hard way is that nothing great will ever come to you unless you are truly committed. You can read all the books there are and make the plans but will not get anywhere until you take that first step. They say “You do goal setting with a pencil but you do goal getting with your legs”. You have to take action! And that is what ultimately separates regular people from the truly great ones – the ability to take action and do the hard work that’s needed to get there. A few months back I watched Free Solo and heard Alex Honnold describe his experience
climbing the El Capitan. He is clearly a super gifted guy with a gift for climbing but that’s not what he’s proud of. Like he say's in the movie "Practicing that climb, memorizing every sequence, each hold and its texture for a 3000ft wall that he's climbed nearly 50 times over 10 years - its a lot of hard work and sweat". That’s a choice he’s made and lived with so that’s something he can proud of. I think we all have gifts that can be taken to the next level. I am just very happy that the effort and training I put in helped me become a strong runner and reach my goal. As I ponder upon what outside of family and work is probably the biggest accomplishment of my life – I think the greatest lesson I have learnt through 100’s of miles of running hard, breathing harder and observing myself transform through it all, has been this.
The answers to our biggest problems and our greatest challenges are all inside us – running a marathon helped me find some of them.