A Race Recap by Leiba Rimler

BEST. HUMAN. EVER. (I mean the one in the red gaiter - Andy, not the one in the white.)

For some reason I am unable to articulate, I actually paid cold hard cash to run Boston virtually. Maybe because I am still convinced it hurt me to not run a marathon between NYCM 2016 and Boston 2018, and I don't want to repeat that mistake, even if at the rate we're going, I won't actually get to run the real Boston Marathon again until 2025.

Despite my having half a dozen of them under my belt, the marathon is still daunting; doing one virtually makes it even more so. I tried to find a real race which I could use as my virtual Boston, but all that came up was Chasing the Unicorn, and it was full. I joined the waiting list and resigned myself to running solo.

Then (joy of joys!), I made it off the waiting list. Paid $120 to drive two hours at a crazy early hour to run a marathon — and after two weeks of being assured it was definitely happening, with details on the COVID measures being taken — it was canceled late Thursday afternoon before the race.

So it was on to Plan B, which had been my Plan A before I made it off the waiting list: Back to Rockland Lake Park, the site of my first-ever marathon, to run a dizzying amount of loops. That makes it logistically easier to have access to fluids without carrying it, though I really did not want to stop to get anything from my car once I started the "race." Here I have to give a huge, huge, huge shout out to Andy, who came up there with me and served as my chauffeur, course support, cheer crew, bike marshal, photographer, and everything in between. It made things so much easier than they would have been otherwise.

It was supposed to rain on Sunday, another reason why I was annoyed about the last-minute cancellation. Had I known earlier, I'd have chosen the best-weather date in the available window provided by the BAA. It turned out not to be a big deal; weather forecasters have no idea what they're talking about, and it turned out close to perfect. I started running in the long sleeves, because it was quite chilly, but that makes for ideal temperatures once you get moving.

I did not feel like running fast. "Fast" is relative, of course, but I certainly wasn't going to attempt a PR. First of all, it wouldn't count, and that would really suck. It's daunting enough to run a marathon solo, never mind your fastest one ever! So in the end, I planned to target something 20-25 seconds slower than marathon pace, or what I'd have attempted as my marathon pace for an actual race, which meant 7:30 or so.

Or, really, if I was going by feel, I was aiming for a pace with which I could just settle into a groove and crank out endless miles without thinking about it. I did have to consciously slow myself down a few times in the early miles, but after that, I felt kind of like a metronome.

And it was a pleasant surprise to discover that I was not the only person running my virtual Boston that day! Most of the others seemed to be running counter-clockwise, and I was running clockwise, but there was at least one more person doing the same "route" I was. (He and I also seemed to be the only ones doing it without the help of pacers. Go, us?)

Because there were other people doing this, and they came with pacers, course support and cheer crews, I definitely saw more people than I would have at Chasing the Unicorn, where spectators were not welcome and the aid stations were to be unmanned. It was actually really nice!

Especially this, which I appreciated immensely. My digestive system can only handle so many gels, and at real races, I tend to alternate them with Gatorade, but I didn't bring any of that with me (mostly because I didn't have time to test out the kind that comes in bottles vs. the powdered formula used on race courses). But since my stomach had started staging a mutiny eight miles in, and I was afraid of overloading it with gels, I figured I had nothing to lose by trying the proffered Gatorade, which was slushy and icy cold and amazing and totally saved me.

Around mile 18, my right knee started to feel very marathon-y. Stupid ITB! I tried switching to the other side of the road, but it's not very canted, so I don't think it made a difference. I did feel like my HR was getting a little elevated — nowhere near race effort, but it was sunny and turning a bit warmer, so that made sense. It didn't feel hard, per se, just like I'd been running forever and I was so ready to be done. (This is why I don't particularly like marathons. They're so long that they go past the point of enjoyment).

To reach 26.2 miles, I'd need to run roughly 8 2/3 loops of the park, and that meant I'd finish right around where the above Gatorade photo was taken, which was great because that provided me with people to hold the finish line banner. I'd either have to keep running a bit after I crossed it, or I could try to make up a little distance beforehand and hope I didn't miscalculate and have to keep running after stopping my watch.

As you can see from the map, I chose the latter option, which actually led me to reach 26.22 about a tenth of a mile early. I hit stop on my watch and kept running, because if I walked that last little bit, no way in hell was I going to be able to start running again, and I already know that finish line tape photos taken when you're not actually running look kind of stupid!

Not that this one doesn't look stupid too, but it's a different kind of stupid. My hand instinctively went to my Garmin after I "broke the tape," but luckily I remembered just in time that I'd already stopped the damn thing!

Sadly, my printer was out of colored ink, so there is no yellow unicorn on the banner. That's what happens when you only have a couple of days' notice!

I was definitely in better shape than in 2018: It's amazing what a difference it can make, not being soaked to the skin and pummeled by sustained 40 MPH headwinds for those last few miles. There was a tiny headwind, which I mentioned to Andy during my penultimate loop, and then we started discussing how nice it was to not be near-hypothermic and still able to feel our extremities. (Which didn't mean I was not so ready to be done.)

My right ITB was pissed, of course, but I have still never run a marathon and finished with functional knees, and this time at least one was still working properly, so…progress! I guess there is something to be said for running a marathon at a somewhat-easy effort instead of hammering the whole way: You have the energy to do this afterward.

And it did kind of feel like I had run a real race, because since I finished about a mile away from where we had parked — a good thing, a little walk is far preferable to immediately sitting down for a long drive home — we got to cheer on other people on the course as we headed back to the car.

Garmin time and "official time" are the same, of course: 3:14:33, 7:25/mi.

Given that it's a virtual race, people were free to do as they pleased, and lots of them did take advantage of the opportunity to pause their watches during bathroom or fuel breaks. I am not saying there's anything wrong with that, because there isn't; it's not like a virtual race "counts" anyway, so whatever floats your boat. I just personally wouldn't choose to stop my watch, since I wouldn't do that during an actual marathon. Then again, I tend to avoid stopping during marathons, too, since at a certain point, if I stop running, I will be physically incapable of starting again (see: digestive system would have appreciated a bathroom stop from miles 8-26.22). As for the argument that pretty much everyone who ran 26.2 flat by GPS would have ended up with a DNF on an actual race course ... this was my actual certified race course in 2014. My Garmin measured 26.22.

Also, since I'm not someone who can just casually drop a marathon-distance run like it's no big deal, taking this seriously would give me a better idea of where I actually am in terms of marathon fitness, which the "sprint, stop watch, sprint, stop watch" logging method would not do. There's no way to predict for sure what could have happened in a real race, of course, but I'm pretty happy with how even my splits were, and that my average HR wasn't much higher than it would be on an easier-paced regular long run.

Annoyingly, I forgot to check my exact HM split, but I think it was just under 1:37; so I ran a slight positive split, which I'd expect during the hotter months.

I wouldn't say it was nice to run a marathon virtually, because it was definitely a hard thing to do (and would have been much harder had those unexpected cheer tunnels not materialized like a gift from heaven)... but it certainly was nice to run one without a particular time goal, which I don't think I'd be able to make myself do in a real race situation. It isn't often that I can say this, but I am pleased with the result.

Finally earned the jacket that's been sitting patiently in the packaging for months!

Some people find the race the hard part; I won't dispute that, as marathons are not easy! However, the self-imposed two-week running hiatus that comes after it is far, far worse for me. I learned the hard way what happens if I don't take that break, though all of my past marathons were actual race efforts, and so maybe I don't need quite so much time off now ... but this is the kind of thing in which it's better to err on the side of caution. (For me, anyway. Not so much for the people whose heads I may rip off in the coming days. Apologies in advance).

Text by: Leiba Rimler
Photos courtesy of: Leiba Rimler
Produced by: Linda Chan & Alison Kotch

Earning the Jacket

A Race Recap by Leiba Rimler