Boston Marathon Guilt

The Boston Marathon took place Monday, April 20 and I didn’t run it. There is always a feeling of guilt for me about not running Boston. Guilt may not be the best word. Disappointment, inadequacy, missing out on a special event, no bragging rights, might be better terms. 

This year non-runners at work didn’t even ask me if I was going to run the race, I can’t remember the last time that happened. When I was running around Spencerport Monday night after work I realized it has been 19 years since I ran my first and only Boston marathon. Nineteen years ago I still thought I had hair and my oldest daughter just turned 17, my youngest 12. Also strange, I’ve completed 19 marathons. I never ran a marathon without trying to qualify for Boston. Obviously my success rate was pathetic. 

In the early years of my marathon “career” the qualifying times were so tough I didn’t stand much of a chance. A sub-2:50? My best ½ marathon was 1:23, how was I going to run a 2:50 marathon? Needless to say, I didn’t. When I got to my mid-30’s the times softened a bit so I “only” needed a sub 3:00, so in a race that’s what I would start my pace at. I never lasted. Finally in 1995 I ran a qualifying time (if you count the few seconds it took me to cross the starting line, my “chip” time-which Boston did for 1996). 

That was it, my only Boston marathon. In later attempts the qualifying times had softened a bit more and I naively thought they were too easy. I went out faster knowing I could always fall back to the Boston time. That didn’t work out well for me, having marathons where I missed the time by a minute, 3 minutes, or just totally falling apart. Stupid man. 

This year I streamed the race via the internet while working, the advantage to having two monitors on my desk.  It was a great race among the top ten to fifteen elite runners and I was happy to be able to watch it live. However there’s a big difference between sitting in an office 400 miles away and being in the event. Don’t worry though; I don’t have any plans to run another marathon. Nineteen seems like enough times to attempt something I’m not very good at, even if every third week of April I feel guilt, disappointment or inadequate.