Boston Broilerthon

Of course the whole point of the blog had been that training for Boston was a unique metaphor for life in general.  After three months of major training, and three months of getting into shape prior to that our goal time of 3.20 something had been firmly kicked out of the window by the news that the weather was anticipated to be 89f on marathon Monday.  Those who don't run probably just think that is a tad warm and what's the big deal.  In running the body heat you generate adds about another 20f to the temperature, so that means we would be putting our body through 109f for three and a half hours, which would almost certainly end in tears or the medical tent.  Also, the late start of the race has us running from 10.30 - 2 pm, the height of the day.

So when life gives you lemons, you whine incessantly on facebook and to your poor friends, then grudgingly start making that lemonade.  I panic bought a new visor in gleaming white, more sunscreen, more anti chaff stick and thanked the lord we had chosen very thin tank tops.  My plan to race separately from Q-Less, went down the tube as she gleefully called me and suggested we run together so as to check on each other's impending delirium.  Our goal now was simply to finish, no time in mind.  The pace band I lovingly crafted with sticky back plastic now is squished unceremoniously next to my underwear, just in case New England throws another hissy fit and decides it will go back to being 50f and wet.

The race organizers have extended the length of time the course will remain open, offered deferrals and encouraged all those barring the superfit or those used to running at very warm temperatures to stay at home.  Of course most people won't.  There is too much investment to do that.  Many will not heed the warnings regarding pace and will try and stick to plan A - there are 130 extra EMTs laid on for that reason, and I am expecting Q-less and I to see some scary sights on the way.

The only bright spot is the support crew of Berkeley, Nadine and Heide will have a fabulous day in the sun and will hopefully find some nice shady cafe to hang out in before joining what will be a tremendous crowd enjoying the sunshine.  Those college kids will be up early, drinking and grilling, and enjoying what is a bizarre but rather lovely holiday for the town of Boston.

If anyone is bored and happens to tune to Universal Sports for live marathon coverage you might be treated to the sight of two very slow rather crazy looking housewives weaving down the street.  You'll know it is us because the fancy race shirts will have been hurled to a ditch and we will have stripped down to tatty yellowed sports bra with names written in smeared sharpie pen, grabbing any drinks we are offered along the way.

Suspect we won't even see a glimpse of that darn unicorn this year, but like the pursuit of happiness, we are still reaching for it.