INQUIRER Sports

KNOWN to break seasoned runners, the Boston Marathon (BM) has a daunting reputation as the oldest and most famous 26.2 miles in the sport.

Its significance is measurable by the number of press credentials issued (more than 1,500 from over 350 organizations) for a one-day event, second only to the Superbowl.

To enter, one must meet a qualifying time. You will find yourself running alongside weekend warriors?most probably former college track stars, Navy seals, Iron Man age-group champions, college, state and national contenders from the world over, Olympic hopefuls and, if you?re lucky, some of the world?s running legends.

For one week in April, Boston welcomes the elite of the running world. Conversations about the marathon aren?t so much on finishing but more on PBs (personal best times from previous races) that have earned participants a bib number.

The marathon prides itself on accepting runners based solely on verified qualifying times from ?chip-certified? marathons (e.g. males aged 18-34, 3:10 times; females 18-34, 3:40; males aged 80 and above, 5:00). Exceptions are rare and far between. In 1996, there were roughly 30,000 rejection letters sent to non-qualifiers.

I felt like fish out of water or Alice falling through the looking glass when I found out my 3:40 time (NYC Marathon) had qualified me for the 113th BM.

My thrill changed to semi-panic as race day, April 20, neared. How would training on Antipolo hills and the downhill roads of Tagaytay compare to this granddaddy of courses?

I entered the Runner?s expo two days before the race to register and pick up my bib number. The place teemed with people who looked like they ran for a living. Rock-solid calves, sculpted cheekbones and shoulder blades jutting out of necklines were the order of the day.

Running Boston is almost anti-climactic after qualifying for it. Until you get there and realize the runners breathe a different air. For most, it?s not about finishing the race (a feat in most cities). It?s about how many times you?ve run it and what wave you are in.

There are two waves: Wave One is for runners who average sub 3:20, and Wave Two are for runners who average sub four hours. Those not worthy, please exit on the left.

It?s a runner?s elite club; until you earn the right to wear the overpriced windbreaker you are buying as souvenir, it?s best to keep your comments to yourself.

Solid dinner

Everybody says the meal before race day will determine how well you run. So a solid pre-race dinner is the key.

Avoiding shellfish, just in case, and eating more than the average, my family and I found ourselves a delicious little Italian bistro in Boston?s North End (Little Italy). For dessert, despite feeling stuffed and sleepy from carbo-loading, we trudged over to Mike?s Pastry (famous for its cannolis) and had a bite of the ?Godfather?s Special.?

At 6 a.m. the next day, I woke up and immediately worked to stuff two breakfast meals down my throat (waffles, banana, chocolate covered raisins, coffee, cereal, protein bars).

I met up with my sister Amanda at Boston Commons where we lined up with 26,000 other runners to board the buses that would take us to the race start in Hopkinton.

The weather report predicted rain, which had me in panic. The preferred outfit of most, consisting of a runner?s singlet, shorts, arm warmers and knee-highs, were not enough for me, based on my experience. For someone used to running in tropical weather, the sub-40-degree temperature, overcast day with winds from 15-50 miles per hour felt downright icy!

I wore everything I owned and then some. My layers: sports bra top, long-sleeved mandatory base layer (UnderArmour), Polo Tri vest (for branding purposes), arm warmers (Sugoi), windbreaker with removable sleeves (which I kept on the whole race), knee-highs (Sugoi, a must buy), compression tights (Skins) and wool socks (The Sock Guy), watch (Nike), head beanie and gloves. I figured I could always strip them off during the race.

The weather got darker the further away we drove from Boston, the fog started to settle in, and old-timers (three-time to nine-time Boston runners) gave newbies (myself and my sister Amanda) the lowdown on what to expect?pain.

We entered into the runner?s holding pen, a public school an hour away from Boston. Here we cooled our heels literally for two hours, waiting for the race to start.

No technical runner

You?ve heard that marathons are about the last 10K. This is true for most races, but for Boston, the race starts from the beginning and does not let up until you cross the finish line. It?s a hilly and windy course, so you should run it mile by mile to maximize the areas where you should surge or rest.

I found this out in retrospect. I am not a technical runner because I don?t wear an HRM (heart rate monitor) or look at splits. I just go by how I feel. In this race, it pays to be a little technical because when you have the urge to push, it?s best to be aware what lies in store for you in the next corner.

The minute the gun goes off, you are ?on,? unlike most races where you can zone out and take time to get into your comfortable run mode. Everyone starts running simultaneously in a seemingly pre-determined steady warm-up pace.

It seemed slow for me in the beginning because I was caught in a sea of people, but I was running at a steady 5.1 per km pace. A few people I could see were doing breakaways and cutting through the crowds. They were braving getting elbowed or cursed by other runners.

Running may not be a gentleman?s sport like golf, but there are common courtesies that people follow.

Right off the bat, everyone stripped off their throwaway sweats to reveal six-packs or the gaunt lean frames of seasoned runners. I was too cold to even take my gloves off until 4K into the race.

For nutrition, I brought five packs of Gu gel and one Pria bar. I consumed three packs, most of the bar and alternately drank Gatorade and water. There was a Red Cross aid station and water and Gato station every mile.

Tight ship

The Boston Athletic Association (BAA) runs a very tight ship. The goal was to get the bodies moving as quickly and efficiently as possible through eight towns and into Boston. Don?t expect big city brass bands or fireworks.

Although the crowd cheering us on was fewer in number than New York City, they were no less enthusiastic. Besides, Boston runners do not seem to need the distraction. They were focused and ready to do the distance needing no incentives.

At Mile 5, I looked at the endless sea of runners and thought about what it took to get me to that point in the race?the hours of training, the early morning wake-up calls, the blisters, the aches and pains. And I imagined that each of us had our own stories to tell, probably similar to my own. Suddenly I realized I was taking part in Boston marathon history. This was a moment to savor.

Before you know it, you have reached the halfway point, Mile 13, where you will literally get deafened by the Wellesley girls? screams. Goosebumps rise as you feel their energy pumping you up for the battle ahead.

From here the pace picks up all the way until Heartbreak Hill, composed of three hills that are not as steep as they sound but sloped enough to make your heart jump a few notches closer to your throat.

By the time you pass Boston College, you will have conquered Heartbreak Hill, and this is where the going gets really tough.

Mile 22 is called the ?Graveyard? for a reason. This was where I found my first cheerleader; my sister Margaret was suddenly running alongside me, followed by my stepfather, who unfurled the Philippine flag with my mom and my boyfriend, Martin, carrying a huge sign with my name on it.

Seeing them seemed to put wings on my feet as I felt lighter and faster after their excited cheering. This high carried me to the next 5K.

Worst, best part

For me, the last 5K was the worst and best part of the race. As your systems start to go into shutdown mode, this is the part where you dig deep and hope to find more. This is where you ask yourself: ?How much gas is left in the tank??

And if you do decide to gun it, be very aware that the last few miles to the finish could potentially be the most painful and memorable of your running career.

This last bit is also one of the most picturesque portions of the course. The pretty tree-lined avenues with million-dollar mansions lead you to Commonwealth Ave., the main street a la Ayala Avenue. From here, it?s a straight flat road perfect for a sprint finish?if you still have it in you.

As I crossed the finish line with 3:42, I was happy to have finished the race, and initially disappointed with my time because I wanted to break 3:40.

Running down the last 1K stretch, I could see the digital clock ticking the time away. I usually have a sprint left in me regardless of distance, but in this race I was emptied as my legs (quads), now trashed by the relentless course, felt heavy and started to stiffen.

I knew then that I should have pushed harder in the beginning when I could have, and not later in the race when I no longer had the legs for it.

Yes, I still owe Boston another go, this time with more faith that my legs have it in them to go the extra miles. I may not have done a PB, but as I wore that 50-cent finisher medal around my neck, I felt I was worth a million bucks.

Postscript

Right after I crossed the finish line, I ran into a nearby hotel to defrost and got a chance to meet running legend Bill Rodgers, who was talking with Kara Goucher (who finished third overall, women). I somehow got included in their conversation as a fellow finisher and found myself chatting about how nasty the weather was and how the wind played a factor in making the race tougher than usual.

Much later, I realized how Rodgers was totally on a different running stratosphere from me. Running still amazes me because it has a way of equalizing people.

My Boston stats: Overall place: 11115 of 22849; Gender place: 2968 of 9302; Age group place: 481 of 1644

Rodgers? stats: He had originally qualified for the 1976 Montreal Olympics with a 2:11 in the trials. He finished 40th with a 2:25. The winner, an East German, won with a 2:09 (55), an Olympic record. He held the world record in 1975 with 2:09 (55). He did not get his revenge in the next Olympics due to the US boycott, so he posted his best time ever in 1979 with 2:09 (27).

At the 113th Boston marathon, looking fit at age 61, he finished with 4:06. He was a little disappointed not to do a sub 4.