Letter From Boston

Yesterday, I arrived home to find a letter from the Boston Marathon. It began with the words "We regret to inform you that due to irregularities in your application and difficulties confirming your qualifying time, we have found it necessary to deregister you from entry in the 2006 B.A.A. Boston Marathon." Needless to say, I was both startled and saddened by this development, until I realized that the envelope in my hands was still unopened.

I carefully slit it open, and inside were three items:
1) My number pickup card
2) An informational booklet for participants and
3) A booklet from the good folks at Adidas hawking their Boston Marathon clothing and their shoes.

While getting the card was the highlight, the thing that impressed me most was the runner's booklet. Most of the info was stuff that I'd seen already on the Marathon website. The thing that really struck me about this booklet was the depth of medical and health information they provided.

They offered substantial information about hyponatremia, something that I figured most qualified Boston runners would already know all about, thus the space (and effort) was wasted, then I realized that probably somewhere between one-quarter and one-third of the marathon field had gained entry through the charity runner route. For many of these runners, it is probably their first marathon and since they aren't experienced runners, they are probably at greater risk of hyponatremia or other health issues than those of us who have qualified. The other thing that struck me were the number of medical stations - 26!, a number that seems like overkill until you consider that quick attention to a problem can often mean the difference between a decent finish and slogging home with half your foot blistered. My old school mentality means that even if I have trouble, I'll be slow to visit them, but it's good to know they're there.

The booklet also contained much of the minutiae that marathon runners obsess about, including some things that I'd not considered, like the fact that the downhill side of Heartbreak Hill is often windy, and that a sea breeze, especially on a warm day, can mean you're racing in two different sets of weather conditions. (I don't know if knowing this will make me more comfortable or if this is a case where "ignorance is bliss".)

The arrival of this packet means that taper time is near. I look forward to crossing the finish at Boston and fulfilling a goal established in the fall of 1972.