LET ME SHOW YOU MY RANS.

A nice day. Perfect temps, a little cross wind, but nothing that was gonna make too much of an impact either way.

I rode the bus to the start with a guy who’d run 2:15 at Boston and said even or negative splits were the only way to go, which cemented my plan to go out conservative. Figured I could pass through the half at 1:19 without working too hard, leaving plenty of energy for a strong finish.

The gun fired and I immediately felt out of sorts. I was going as slow as I could down the steep first mile, feeling really awkward and jerky. A group passed me looking at their Garmins and yelled “5:50 pace guys, perfect!” and I slowed down even more. Hit the first split in 6:10 and tried to settle in to a good rhythm. The terrain started rolling  and I went 6:00-6:03-5:57 for the next couple miles, getting passed by swarms of people.

Mile 5 was a 6:09 and after a half hour of waiting for it to come, I resigned myself to the fact I wasn’t going to have one of those days where everything feels easy. Hammy protested the complete lack of hill training, and I just didn’t feel right. Scaled back my goals and my effort. Hit a 6:02-6:05-6:06-6:06. With every mile it felt like the next split I’d see would be 6:40 or so, but it never happened.

Gave a smiling old lady in a wheelchair a high five, which put me in a good mood for a while. Then I saw Devon from Philly, a complete surprise. Really happy to see him and nearly ran up the back of the guy in front of me. Tried to ride the good mood for a while, but was out of it again in a mile or so. Went 6:07-6:06-6:00 to get to Wellesley.

Ah, Wellesley. Loud and wonderful as ever. 6:04 and 300 high fives (no kisses, Nora).

Got out of Wellesley and my legs already felt really heavy. This was gonna be trouble. I’d been conservative down the first half hills but they’d still shredded me. Half in 1:19:43—slower than I expected and feeling worse than I expected.  No way I’m holding this together. Eased back more in an attempt to prevent a death march at the end of the race. Looked at the crowd, gave a bunch of high fives, and kept going. Still getting passed by huge numbers of people.

6:04-6:09. Alright, I’m running with a Saturday-long-run-with-the-guys effort, and the splits aren’t collapsing. Keep it going a few more miles and see where we’re at.

5:57 as we descend toward the Firehouse.

6:09 into the Newton Hills. I haven’t passed anybody to this point, and I haven’t seen a hill in a year, but when things start moving uphill, I start flying by people. I don’t get it, and I’m trying to figure out what’s going on when I pass Jim and Lis and give my last high fives of the day. 6:12, maintaining effort. 6:03, still getting ready for Heartbreak. 6:16 up the penultimate hill. Mile 21, the Heartbreak mile, passes in 6:25, and I’m just eating people up.

I’m not able to do the math, but for the first time all day, it’s starting to look like there’s a chance of breaking 2:40. Not a good chance, but a chance.

Mile 22: 6:03. Alright, that was a downhill, I ran it hard, and still didn’t get under 6:00. I don’t know about this.

Mile 23: 6:05. Flattening out. Still, I don’t think it’s good enough. It’s got to be 6’s. I see Kollar somewhere around here and it’s a blur, but I think WWKD and keep pushing.

Mile 24: 5:59. Okay, I’ve never run that fast this late in a marathon. It’s starting to really hurt but I’m holding it together. Somebody yelled my name and looked me in the eye and I have no idea who it was. I’m just blowing by people.

Mile 25: 6:07. Damnit.

I hit the “One Mile To Go” sign at 2:34:00. Oh, crap. I tell myself I only have to run hard for 6 more minutes. At that point, either the race will be over or it won’t be worth running hard anymore.

200 meters to go, form is just falling apart. Nora’s there but I don’t see her, or anyone. My neck is seizing up and my head is pointing skyward. I literally cannot pull my head down to see my watch to see if I’m going to make it. I can’t wait to see the finish line photos.

Cross the line, and it’s 2:39:52. A volunteer rushed over and put his arm around me and walked me to another volunteer, who passed me off to another, and it took about 5 volunteers before I could say I was okay to keep going on my own. I knew I was less than half a mile from seeing Nora. If I could have run it, I would have.