Hyannis Marathon 2018, the time it rained. AGAIN!

Eric and I (along with my cousin, Evan) ran the Hyannis marathon back in 2013. That particular race has become infamous over the years as the coldest, the rainiest, the windiest (and puddliest, and muddiest) shit show ever. We tell war stories about it, and anyone who happened to be there shakes their head in earnest sympathy when we speak of it, as it was truly a study in suffering.

As the years have gone on, I have learned to appreciate a good chilly damp race day. I honestly despise getting overheated, and in February I can not handle a surprise 60 degree day with any level of grace. When Eric and I signed up once again for Hyannis, just a few weeks ago, we hoped for some nice mild and dry weather (because you aren't smart if you don't wish for perfect conditions.)
Believe me, we never thought we would see a carbon copy of 2013's  weather, because what are the odds?
***APPARENTLY VERY VERY EXCELLENT***

I looked at the 10 day forecast when it became available, and texted Danielle the good news! It was going to be a nice, overcast day, with a high of 46. PERFECT.

Well, that did not last.
Luckily, in the 5 years since our previous run in with Hyannis, I have stopped stressing about cold rainy weather. I know I can run in it, and my PR marathon was on a very rainy (and tail windy) day. I would MUCH rather have cold and rain than 75 and blazing sun. So it was no problem in the Bradlowski household. I also knew that Danielle and Sarah could totally handle crap weather, as we all ran MDI in 2012 (the year of the drenching rain.) Basically, I was supremely confident in all of our weather related abilities.

Eric and I cruised to Hyannis on Saturday, as we had had some kind of psychic moment and snagged a room at the host hotel. "The weather certainly is not going to be as bad as 5 years ago" we laughed to ourselves "but if it is, having an immediate hot shower will be worth the cost!" (spoiler: it was.)
It was raining and 40 upon our arrival, just to let us see a preview of things to come.

We had a really nice dinner with Danielle and Sarah, catching up on life events, being suspicious of "what was in the butter" (mustard...?) giving the waitress a hard time about her pens (or so she thought) and somehow staying very upbeat about the weather situation. I think Sarah *might* have mentioned buying a day gym pass, and running her 13.1 on the treadmill, but she was obviously fibbing.

All my friends liked my neon shirt, supplied to me by our training run recovery team at Bear Bones Brewing. I have said for years that the key to success in running is making sure to have a good, quality beer post run (after water, but this goes without saying.) Eric and I will be continuing the pub run tradition leading up to Boston (so join in the fun, peeps!)

Beer equals winning. 

Eric and I tried to go to bed early, but I ended up faffing around forever, eating Cadbury mini eggs, listening to children run down the corridor like elephants, and watching a lot of HGTV and pondering why people would want shiplap siding on interior walls. Who knows. Anyways, I took a Benadryl like a good adult and slept like a baby until almost 7:00, which is nothing short of a miracle.

We got up, and it was raining.
We were going to walk to Dunkin, but it was raining wayyyyy too hard. Plus, we had real, and valid concerns about losing our parking spot. So, we ate hotel breakfast (which also proves how much I have mellowed as a marathoner) as I sampled some rather questionable bacon and eggs, and cold French toast and lived to tell the tale! I had a few pieces of toast and PB to back this up, and (obvs) a nice big pre race pb&j and a syrup.

Danielle and Sarah headed out for a pre race run, and texted us about the conditions so that we could dress accordingly. Nobody wanted to freeze (inevitable) or overheat (I do not think anyone did) and my final clothing choice was: Long-sleeve top, lightweight vest, gloves, insulated tights, cap, snorkel.

We all met up pre race and (once again) we all were really adult about the weather. I do not even know who we are anymore, but this is clearly a sign of being mature and well adjusted humans. I feel like there may have been some less mature talk about pooping, or something, but who really knows.
Eric vanished at the last minute to warm up before his attempt at a major 13.1 PR, and just like that, it was time to RACE.

Pre race! So dry and warm! (Eric, Sarah, Me, Danielle) 

After the longest version EVER of the anthem, we were off. It was cold. (40) wet (steady rain) and moderately windy (wind about 15MPH on lap one)

Remembering that the start was very congested in 2013, I settled in much more towards the front, which was a great choice.
The rain was coming down in multiple different directions, making for some serious looking at the street for me, while I tried to keep the rain off my glasses.
Right away, I was very soggy. There was no slow progression to being soaked, it happened swiftly. I suppose it is better to just cut to the chase, and get it over with! Kind of like leaping into a cold pond, rather than dipping one toe in at a time. Right?

For those of you who are smart enough to avoid mid winter marathons, the course is something like this: (keeping in mind, that I have essentially been regulated to staring at my feet during both of my experiences here, due to the driving rain.) For the marathon, you are looking at a two lap course. It is quite flat by "Maine" standards, but it does have several small hills to break things up. There is, without fail, a very water covered area of road right around mile 3. (ankle deep puddle) There is a stretch of beach that would be lovely on a pleasant day, but in my life has been exceptionally dreary and also puddle ridden. There are a good number of aid stations, and porta potties on course. The first lap is fairly crowded, and cheerful. You are almost guaranteed some alone time during lap two, unless you find friends. Pro tip: FIND FRIENDS.
(Honestly, when you go to bib pick up there are boxes, and boxes of packets for half marathoners. And one box, one quarter full for people in the full. Prepare your head for loneliness!)

So anyway, I was off and running. Drowning, perhaps. Lap one was quite alright. Mentally, I broke the race up into two 13.1 events. I never thought "25 more miles to go" (because that sucks) I ran one half marathon, and then another. I am sure that intellectually, my brain must understand that we are about to go whole hog for 26.2. However, there is some really easy to trick part of my brain that I have recently discovered. *THAT* part of my brain can break up long runs into smaller increments, which makes high mileage much more tolerable! I love that part of my brain, and I really hope that it never catches on to my trickery!

From mile 10-13.1 things became quite windy. And, since it was about 300 below zero, I got really cold. However, my run was going very well, I felt fresh and unreasonably cheerful, and there was no way I was going to call it a day at the half. I had also found myself in a little group of people shooting for a sub 3:30 (Hi Kato and Adam!!) They were excellent pacers, so I locked right onto them and we became the best of friends.

Or we would have become best friends, had any of us actually been warm enough to talk.
I ran through the half in about 1:43 which is excellent. I felt great, which was more excellent. I was sopping, dripping wet and covered in mud and probably seaweed, and maybe a seagull, but all was well.

Right around mile 15 I considered snagging my iPod and cranking some sweet tunes. My hands, however, were frozen solid into little blue lobster claws. So, the dexterity to remove said iPod from a plastic baggie and get it up and running were just not there.
So I did what I always do in such dire circumstances.
I made up songs. (all of you are lucky that I only sing them in my head)

I started with Christmas Carols:
"Oh the weather outside is FRIGHTFUL!!!!
But running is so delightful.....?
The rain my face does HIT...
....fuck this crazy shit....."

Perhaps not a new Christmas song for the children, but I was quite amused by my little tune (it doesn't take much) and as I drafted off Kato and Adam for some miles, I sang this little jingle a couple times.

At 16 Adam had to give up being the pacer, as it was time to take a mid race poop. (I know the feeling, man, I really do.) So Kato and I ran along together, and it was basically just the two of us. We assumed that we were winning the race, since there was not another soul in sight. We contemplated the possibility of being off course (terrifying) we continued to avoid the ankle deep puddles, (even thought our shoes were beyond help), and she motored along, in the way that a woman on a mission to break 3:30 by a solid amount does. I was basically along for the ride, and it sure was nice to have a running buddy in the ever worsening conditions.
(also, I saw a few race photographers and can't wait to see some really bad, sopping wet, race photos to document the thorough drowning that we were given. I will be sure to share.)

As is per the norm, I was feeling just fine and dandy until mile 23. Then, my legs told me to screw off and I could not really blame them! Since this is not a new thing for me to experience, and since I knew I could walk to the finish, and BQ, I was neither upset or offended by this turn of events. I watched little Kato flee into the distance, passing the few people we had caught up with left and right, and I sent her telepathic messages to finish strong, because I was too frozen to say thing with my actual voice.

I sang more songs:
"hello darkness my old friend....
here's mile 23 AGAINNNNNNN
and my legs are slowly GIVING UP!!
But I really do not GIVE A F**K
Because the finish line... IS *ONLY* THREE MILES AW-AYYYYYY!!!"
And still I pray....
That I can get... To the FINISH...."
(apologies to Simon and Garfunkel for my butchering of a lovely song)
(also. I am indeed the songbird of our generation. you're welcome)

So yeah, I slogged through my last few miles. My feet were so cold that I could not feel them, which added a certain level of concern about taking a tragic tumble. The wind got really, REALLY WINDY! (like, 25 MPH gusts! UGH!) But, I stayed remarkably happy. I was not overheating! I was not vomiting! I had zero on course potty breaks! I knew I was going to BQ, which I was so very happy about! I was like "Bradlowski! You are doing a really good job out here, running in all this crap weather!" (which is nice, because sometimes I can be a jerk to myself.) But I was like "self, you are out here doing something that most people don't do! good for you, kid!"

I creaked into the finish like a zombie, despite my glowing positivity. I heard some kind of ruckus and realized that It was my FRIENDS! Eric, Sarah and Danielle were out getting soaking wet, cheering me to the finish. Which was in 3:29:02, which happens to be my 2nd fastest marathon time ever. Holy crap. And what good friends, for standing outdoors on the grossest day ever! *LOVE*
I saw Kato at the finish, and she had smashed her race in the face with a 3:26 (and she knows my cousins, proving that it is a weird, small world!)

Still running!!

I frozenly went inside, and declared that I immediately needed a very hot shower!

Blue lips of hypothermia. no big deal

Luckily, we got a post race pic before I started attempting (and failing, because of freezing hands) to remove my sopping wet, ocean covered race kit. What a mess!

We are less warm and dry now, but are clearly victorious! 

It took me a long while to warm up. Believe me, the shower was worth every penny that we spent on a hotel room. I was frozen to the bone, but generally felt quite good (sore, tired, FROZEN, but pretty good!) After my shower I was so tired that I got straight into bed with a gingerale, and stayed there for a solid 40 minutes without moving. It was possibly the most magical post race moment of my life (again guys, it's the little things!)
Eric went out and about for soup and such (fully mobile, despite smashing his PR and running a 1:37!!!), and texted me a sweet pic!

This is such a great sign!

I am really very, very happy with this race. My body seems to have absorbed the training that I had done, I had a *fairly* ideal race day (the wind, I could have done without) and things just came together nicely. I never take a BQ, or a finish, or a START for granted. When I pull off a good race, I really appreciate the fact that I can do so.
I feel like a sub 3:30 finish is something that I will always be seriously proud of. That is 26.2 miles at a sub 8:00 pace, and by my standards that is FAST! I also have enough marathons under my belt to know how swiftly, and seriously everything can go totally wrong. I am VERY thankful when it is a good day on course. And it was.

So see you in 2019 Boston (oh, and in about 7 weeks too!)
Signed,
A runner who never takes qualifying for granted, because it is god damn hard to run fast!