State Number 30 – Newport Rhode Race,
Newport, RI
15 April 2017
It was never more
evident as this race approached. I felt
overcome by sadness as I reflected upon this date four years ago. On 15 April 2013 at 1449 EDT, I was witness
to the heartwrentchingly sad series of events that occurred at the Boston
Marathon. It was a date I will never
forget.
It all happened as I
was standing on the stoop of the Arlington Street Church at the corner of
Boylston and Arlington Streets across from Boston Common waiting for my wife to
finish the marathon. I had just received
a text message that she had crossed the finish line seconds before I became
suddenly alarmed by the reverberations of two explosions echoing throughout Boston’s
Copley Square and throughout the marathon’s finish line area on Boylston Street. My first thoughts were the sounds of canons
being fired in Copley Square – perhaps in celebration of Patriot’s Day – but judging
from the body language of bystanders and Boston Police officers, it immediately
became apparent it was much more serious.
Looking down Boylston Street, I noticed plumes of blue-colored smoke
rising above the spectators. The jovial
and cheerful atmosphere quickly became overshadowed by a sense of fright and
panic.
With the ensuing
chaos, the horns and sirens of emergency vehicles and first responders clearing
paths through the hordes of runners, my wife and I were dazed and confused as
to what was actually happening as we walked away from the madness and across
Boston Common. When reality finally set
in, I looked at it as another “date which will live in infamy,” especially in
the running community. Since that
fateful day, many marathon events have changed their policies and procedures
when it comes to spectators, clothing drops and security.
That evening, we sat in
our hotel room with the feelings of sadness and anger as we watched the events
unfold on the never ending television coverage.
We looked forward to the Mile 27 After Party at the House of Blues at
Fenway Park that evening, and thanks to those two individuals, our celebratory happiness
was quickly dashed in the wake of that overwhelming tragedy.
Each and every one of
us cannot lead perfect lives. If we did,
we would be able to walk on water.
Happiness without sadness would not be complete. They both complement each other in balancing
life.
Usually, we want to
move away from sadness as quickly as it comes.
We’re often encouraged to dissuade ourselves from such emotions by
participating in some sort of physical activity, imagining some calm and
pleasant experience, or looking for humor in some situation that is making us
sad.
All of us have been
touched in one way or another by the bombings and subsequent manhunt – some of
us, unfortunately, more viscerally and irreversibly than others. Finding ourselves in good conscience to see
any humor in the Boston bombing is not possible, but the resilience of
Bostonians, as well as the mass support from the running community, prove we
can come together and be Boston Strong!
The Newport Rhode
Race was held on the fourth anniversary of the Boston tragedy in the
picturesque cities of Newport and Middletown on Rhode Island’s Aquidneck Island
on the banks of Narragansett Bay. Since
we were already traveling to Boston so my wife can participate in her fifth
Boston Marathon, we took full advantage of completing another state while we
were on the Eastern Seaboard.
Our east coast jaunt commenced
from Long Beach Airport (LGB) during the late evening hours of 13 April for a
non-stop red-eye JetBlue flight to Boston’s Logan International Airport (BOS).
I’m not a fan of
overnight flights and I’ve experienced my fair share of them. A champion upright sleeper, I am not, and
overnight flights are certainly not tailored to my travel preferences. I consider a red-eye synonymous with misery
and trading a bed for an airline seat, I believe, is a serious comfort
downgrade. I envy those who can fall
into a deep sleep while in an upright position only to somehow awaken as the aircraft
begins to make its initial descent to the destination airport.
We arrived at BOS Friday
morning between 0600 and 0700 hours EDT.
From 3000 feet above Boston, we were greeted with a beautiful sunrise
over the Atlantic Ocean. Once on the
ground, with tired and heavy eyes, we marched through the relatively empty
corridors of Terminal C to catch the rental car shuttle bus outside of the
baggage claim doors. Before exiting, we
purchased our seven day MTBA subway pass, and following a brief stop at MTBA’s
Blue Line Station, we secured our mode of transportation for the next 36 hours from
the airport’s rental car facility.
Apparently, the State
of Massachusetts eliminated cash toll booths on all tollways, tunnels and
bridges in favor of electronic toll devices such as transponders or license
plate photo billings. This was news to
me and, naturally, we were required to purchase the use of a window transponder
on the rental car whether or not we used a toll-way. The only toll gantry we passed was for the
Ted Williams Tunnel inbound towards Boston.
Yes, it certainly makes passing through toll areas easier, but I would
rather fork out a couple of bucks now and then for the privilege of using a
toll-way and not paying up front costs even when toll-ways are not used.
With my subway token
and a dollar tucked inside my shoe, we were off to Rhode Island. The next 2.5 hours were spent on the freeway
to Newport, RI with an unplanned detour and stop for some morning caffeine at
McDonald’s in Stoughton thanks to a vehicular crash causing a major traffic
back-up on southbound Highway 24. It was
a good opportunity for us to take a much needed rest stop, switch drivers and
to find an alternate route around the crash site. Besides, we had oodles of time to kill before
even thinking of packet pick up and hotel check-in.
Crossing into Rhode
Island just south of Fall River, MA lies the quaint and picturesque colonial
cities of Newport and Middletown steep in history with unquestionably many
stories to tell if the walls could talk.
The well-preserved colonial architecture welcomed us and I was awestruck
being in one of the centerpieces of the Revolutionary War.
We drove out to
Castle Hill Lighthouse on the historic Ocean Drive to visit the lighthouse and
to take a little nap before packet pick up.
The drive on the peninsula area of Newport was very scenic. The stately homes, ranches and rolling green
hills was rather beautiful on such a bright sunny day with signs posted along
the roadways advising motorists of Saturday’s marathon event. I looked forward with the marathon being
situated on a beautiful piece of real estate.
We parked in a gravel
lot near the Castle Cove Marina adjacent to the U.S. Coast Guard Station. Before settling down for a nap, I walked up a
trail that wound its way through the forest thicket to the lighthouse.
It was near 0930
hours, the sun was shining brightly, with a cool ocean breeze coming off the
bay. The brisk air was enough to wake my
senses after an hour in the car as I strolled along the dirt trail leading to
the lighthouse.
Constructed in 1890,
the lighthouse is closed for public access; however, the lighthouse is easily
accessible via multiple footpaths in and around the shoreline area. From what I could see, the lantern room
likely housed a fifth order Fresnel lens or smaller. As I scanned the area, I noticed one distinct
feature, the absence of a keeper’s house.
Possibly it was located away from the site, but I’m not sure.
After seeing what I
wanted to see, I made the short trek back to the car and attempted to get a
little shut-eye before moving on. The
sun was shining through the car window making napping a bit difficult. With the sun in my face, it didn’t take too
long for me to start sweating so I had to open the windows. But soon, it became a little too cool. There was no perfect balance between hot and
cold.
It was obvious we
weren’t going to get much of a nap.
Sleeping in the seat of a car is akin to an aircraft seat – but only
slightly better. Maybe because it was too
hot and uncomfortable in the car, too much noise going on, or that we were just
too tired – we couldn’t sleep. So we
departed the marina area for a bite to eat before packet pick up and we banked
out hopes on a nice nap once checked into the hotel.
Of course, pizza is
always on the menu prior to a marathon. We
first stopped at our hotel about a quarter mile from the start/finish line area
hoping for an early check in. The lobby,
located on the second floor was adjacent to the pool/spa room. A maintenance man was busy fiddling around
with an electronic device and I could see a frustrated look with what he was
doing.
We kind of got the
impression the second part of the course was going to be tough going in terms
of wind-blown sand, sun, heat and just general unimpressive scenery. I kept telling my wife that out-and-back
portion was only short lived and that the course would become more scenic once
off the tombolo.
The refuge’s visitor
center displayed many pieces of taxidermy art and displays of the avian flyways
of North America. Interesting it was,
but I didn’t have much of an interest hiking all the trails around the
refuge. Besides, the military Blackhawk
helicopters flying around and hovering over some of the swamp lands provided
better entertainment. I wasn’t sure what
they were up to, but I guess training maneuvers. The rangers at the refuge didn’t seem to
appreciate the helicopter noise and disturbances. One of them had a disgusted look on his face
making hand gestures to the pilots to move along and get out.
Instead of the
customary circular pizza served up by the usual establishments, Piezoni’s
prepares a rectangular pizza sliced into squares. Does the shape of a pizza affect the taste? I personally cannot tell, but I can say that
a triangular piece is much easier to hold than a square piece. Maybe it’s an unexplained mystery, but I must
say the cheese pizza was rather delicious and satiated my appetite for the day.
The expo was held in
a smaller-sized conference room decorated with abundant Narcissus flowers (since they were in season) with all but three or
so vendors displaying their products. It
seemed to me the expo’s main function was to hand out goodie bags, race shirts
and bib numbers rather than accommodate vendors.
We were more than
ready and looked forward for an afternoon nap.
Yay, we were able to check in.
The man was still busy with that electronic device. Circuit boards scattered around with wires
and fasteners sticking out, I wasn’t sure what it was, but he looked like he
had enough.
We secured a late
check-out so we could clean up after the marathon. The desk clerk informed us that key cards
would not be available and we were to have maintenance personnel or an escort
open the room door. They must have been
busy that day. I realized the device the
man was working on was the key card magnetizer.
Just if we could use a good old-fashioned key like we did back in the
day.
Wow, I thought. What an inconvenience! That, in a way, limits us from leaving the
room. But who cares. We were looking forward to a long nap anyway.
When we finally laid
on the bed, it wasn’t long after we realized we were next to the elevator
mechanical room. At first, I wasn’t
aware of the noise until my wife reminded me of it. From that point on, it was very
annoying! Throughout the afternoon and
evening, we know when people were using the elevator. Oh, we cannot forget the door slamming and
loud talking throughout the corridor.
Needless to say, our
day and nighttime sleep was non-existent.
With my wife being sick with a nasty cold and practically zero sleep,
the marathon was going to be a formidable task.
I was worried about my wife and the stress a marathon can have on the
body and suggested that she opt out in favor of the Boston Marathon. Not a chance!
The marathon start
time was late compared to most marathons, 0730 hours. I managed to sneak in a couple of hours of
sleep during the night, but that’s all I seemed to need. I was ready to take on the day!
The day started with
about 1200 runners (both half and full) congregating in the start corral. Classic rock music was playing over the loud
speakers for everyone’s enjoyment – well at least my enjoyment. The emcee was constantly informing everyone
to stay off the small grassy-covered sand dune berm separating Memorial Drive
from the large parking lot located at Easton’s Beach. Wow, are they that environmentally sensitive?
After the National
Anthem and a moment of silence dedicated to the fourth anniversary of the
Boston bombings, the marathon began.
 |
| Finishing the first half |
I commonly pace 2:10
half marathons, so my strategy was to keep a steady 9:30 – 9:50 pace with a
goal to cross the half split at around 2:10, meanwhile, conserving my energy while
taking in the scenic views. From my
memory of the marathon route map, I got the impression that the second half appeared
to be not as scenic.
The first half of the
course was somewhat hilly, but not too bad.
It was just enough to challenge my fitness level. With my pre-marathon hill training, I felt
sufficiently prepared enough to negotiate all the hilly terrain without any
issues or mishaps.
 |
| On the tombolo at Marathon Mile 16 |
I crossed the half
split with a time of 2:10:07 and was ready to tackle the second half of the
course and the dreaded run along the tombolo to the wildlife refuge and back. Sure the wind was blowing, but I looked at is
as a pleasant way to cool off. At least
sand wasn’t blowing and the sun didn’t bother me at any time.
At around Marathon
Mile 18, the course diverged from the beach areas, around Gardiner Pond and for
a long out-and-back section along Hanging Rock and Indian Roads. To keep things interesting, Indian Road featured
a steady slight uphill incline all the way to the turnaround point around
Marathon Mile 21. Runners were able to
view the residential homes along this portion of the course with views of the
ocean few and far between.
As the sweat on my
face usually dries, it leaves behind a salty crust on my skin. Over the next couple of miles, I wet my fingers
and wiped away the salt from my face and licked them like a make-shift salt
block. Along with all the bananas (I was
sick of bananas) and pretzels I consumed, it seemed to work, and by around
Marathon Mile 22 I must have replenished some of the electrolytes in my
system. The cramping subsided and I was
able to sustain a slow but steady pace.
As Hanging Rock Road
merged onto Paradise Avenue at Surfer’s End near Marathon Mile 25, a short, but
substantial hill reared its ugly head. I
mentioned to the police officer monitoring the intersection, “What’s this
about?” He chuckled and told me to,
“hang on, you can do it.” It was tough,
but I managed to get over the hump. It
was pretty much downhill from that point.
The final and eternal
mile was upon me. The last jog along
Tuckerman Avenue around Easton Point’s homes was a welcomed site. There, I heard the Rocky theme song blaring away for the fifth and final time
throughout the marathon. I don’t think
that song needs playing other than in the Philadelphia Marathon, even though he
didn’t train for such an event.
The last quarter mile
brought us to Purgatory Road and in front of our hotel. I had a slight temptation just to jog on up
to the room, but I had to officially finish.
I wasn’t feeling too bad coming down the final hill and had enough
energy to finish the last few hundred meters feeling like a champ. I finished in a time of 4:51:43 for an 11:08
pace. My Garmin read 26.55 miles – I
guess I didn’t run the tangents in a proper manner.
Age graded time: 4:19:55
Age graded score: 48.8%
 |
| Course profile |
After a couple slices of peperoni pizza, water, and a bagel slice, I walked back to the hotel for a shower before heading back to Boston.
Mother Nature bestowed some beautiful weather during the entirety of this marathon. The sun shimmering off the small ocean waves and the cool breezes coming off the water were practically ideal. I didn’t have to squint too hard through my sunglasses to enjoy the magnificent scenery provided by this impeccably run seaside marathon. The first half of the course is much more scenic and varied than the second half and the run along the tombolo’s strand was not as bad as I had envisioned. Yes, the marathon is rather hilly, but was not too terribly difficult.
 |
| Fresh Pierogis, kielbasa and "burrito" |
The half marathon is typically the first half of a full course and organizers desire to showcase the best scenery for the first half and any veteran marathoner or 50-stater should already be used to that. The best part of the second half were the cool ocean breezes providing a welcomed cooling effect for old well-worn runners like me.
It was off to Beantown! But first, lunch was in order at Patti’s Pierogis in Fall River, MA featured on an episode of Diners, Drive-ins and Dives on the Food Network.
The pierogis looked delicious and since Patti’s was right in the back yard, I had to stop in and sample the popular Polish dish.
I didn’t know what exactly what I wanted, so I tried the sampler plate with four different pierogis along with a kielbasa sausage and a couple of cabbage-wrapped “burritos”, is what I called them.
The sampler plate was more than enough to satisfy both our appetites for the rest of the day. I even got to meet Patti whom I saw on the show making pierogis with Guy Fieri.
 |
| Here's where it all begins |
After a few missed turns and some traffic aggravation, we arrived at our hotel on Beacon Street a few blocks from Coolidge Corner in front of the marathon’s route near Marathon Mile 24, more or less.
A car isn’t a necessity in Boston. Getting around the city is quite easy with the “T”. With that in mind, we drove back to Logan Airport, dropped off the rental car, boarded the Blue Line to Government Center, and changed to the Green Line to St. Paul Station in front of our hotel. Very convenient. We found that the hip Coolidge Corner, a few blocks away, was home to some great pizza spots.
The city closes Boylston Street to traffic over the
weekend while a host of workers scramble to set up the finish line area. This is typically the time when runners crowd
the street posing for photos of the finish line or whatever suits their
fancy.
After we visited the marathon expo at the Hynes
Convention Center Sunday afternoon, it was our time to strike some poses and to
absorb all the electricity in the atmosphere.
 |
| It was disappointing no one even know our name! |
Later, en route to Faneuil Hall and Quincy Marketplace
as we exited the T station, we happened upon the familiar long line of runners
and family members meandering around city hall plaza at Government Center
waiting to partake in the annual pre-race dinner. One year, we participated in the pre-race
spaghetti dinner and found it wasn’t worth the cost; however, maybe it would
have been fun anyway. Oh, well. We had pizza instead.
 |
| Go Galen. He had a great run! |
Following the thrill
of witnessing the world class runners, hitching a ride on the Green Line,
walking out to the Harvard Bridge and back to the finish line at my usual spot
on the stoop of the Arlington Street Church, I waited for my wife to finish.
The “Mile 27 After Party” is a post-race celebration
held at one of America’s most beloved ballparks, Fenway. It’s a chance to observe the presentation of
the day’s champions, mingle with fellow runners, friends, and family, wander
the fields’ warning track or even sneak in a photo in front of the notorious
Green Monster. Marathon participants
were offered one complimentary admission to the party. However, I was fortunate enough to snag a
spare ticket from a fellow runner who was unable to attend. It was a great opportunity to listen to and
see the runners I was cheering on the most – Desi Linden and Meb
Keflezighi.
Sure, it may have been a little chilly during the
early evening hours, but it was outshined by the warmth and thrill of sitting
in the outfield seats near the Green Monster.
How cool would it have been if the song Sweet Caroline was played in the ballpark.
It was good to sleep
in Tuesday morning and it was our day to leave the amazing city of Boston. However, the cool, cloudy and windy weather
kind of put a damper on our spirits.
Following an excursion down Boylston Street for some shopping and lunch,
we boarded the subway for our trip to the airport, this time on the Silver
Line, hoping we could do some last minute browsing at South Station – no luck,
so on to the airport we went.
As anyone knows,
being sick is not fun. But being sick
while traveling across the country and running two marathons takes a great deal
of stamina and grit. My wife is a
trooper. The bravery and perseverance
she showed over the weekend is commendable.
We arrived at BOS
with time to spare, so we stocked up on some items from the airport shops
before our flight back to LGB. The long
six-hour flight approached my limits, and with my wife unable to drive, I was
deemed the designated driver. I admit it
was tough and about an hour or so from home, words from a classic Eagles song entered my mind, “my head
grew heavy and my sight grew dim, and I [almost] had to stop for the night”,
but I made it.
I love visiting
Boston, it’s a fantastic city, and not being able to qualify to run the Boston
Marathon does weigh heavy on me, but spectating and the thrill of watching the
elite athletes, in a way, kind of makes up for it and I’m always there to cheer
and support my wife whether she chooses to run or not.
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