Race report: Tri-State Games, May 26, 2024

 I ran the 5000m, the 1500m, and the 800m at the Tri-State Games in Rahway New Jersey last weekend.  I ran these with the goals of a) grabbing qualifying times for the "Hartford Nationals" in July - a national para-athletics championship; b) establishing/setting records in my division for those distances; and c) simply getting experience with para-athletic/adaptive athletic meets, which are similar to traditional meets in some ways, and differ in others.

[Yes, this race report is very late.  I have been simply SWAMPED with life/work stuff.]

This was my first time at a para-athletics track meet, and as an adult onset runner I can't say I'm an old hand at track meets either.  Several years ago I did a few local track meets, so I'm somewhat familiar with racing on the track.  But this meet, run under ATFUSA rules, had a few additional requirements to which I needed to adapt (note the pun).  The first two, which I learned pre-race, were:

Requirement 1: My shoes had to have a sole thickness of 25 mm or less (this shifts to 20 mm or less after October).  This is because ATFUSA follows World Para-Athletics rules on shoes, and the WPA in turn follows World Athletics rules.  So no Vaporflies allowed.

In this era of high stack shoes and super foams it is challenging to find shoes that a) aren't spikes and b) fit this requirement.  I picked up a pair of Dragonflies (1/2 off) and gave them a test run before concluding I wasn't ready for them.  

Fortunately, I had a collection of shoes from 7-8 years ago that I had stocked up on, and then never used and never gotten around to selling on Ebay.  I played with a few of those and confirmed that the Adios Boost 4 was the best option.  I also purchased a pair of Adidas Avantis on sale ($40).  Those were delivered on Friday, so I took those as well when I drove up to New Jersey on Saturday.

Requirement 2: GPS watches were banned. Fortunately, I caught this one before I left for New Jersey, which gave me enough time to buy a cheap Timex watch.  

I race by feel, so I didn't need a watch for that reason.  But...I did want my 5000m splits for posterity, and I also wanted to have some way of telling time so that I could know how fast the day was moving (and more importantly, when it was time to take my meds). 

With both these adjustments made, I was feeling very retro and classic when I rolled into Rahway River Park on Sunday morning.

***

I should probably take a few paragraphs to describe this meet at this point. This was called the Tri-State Games because it involved multiple sports spread over 3 days - power-lifting (Friday night), archery (Saturday morning), field events (Saturday all day), and track (Sunday all day).  It was open to children and adults but skewed 25 and younger - at 50 I was one of the oldest athletes on the track on Sunday. 

The track meet was extremely organized and professional - there were at least 6 USATF officials (in uniform) on the track managing the call box, start line, or finish line or standing elsewhere on the track to observe the races.  There was also a large screen display at the finish displaying splits and times.

The meet was for both wheelchair and ambulatory athletes, resulting in some interesting tweaks to the track meet format I'm most familiar with.  Each distance had multiple heats, with the wheelchairs kept separate from the ambulatory athletes. [The latter category included amputees with prosthetics, visually impaired runners, neurologically impaired runners (hi!), and intellectually impaired runners.]  Most heats were also separated by sex, resulting in up to 14 heats for some distances.  For each distance, the wheelchair heats were first, followed by the ambulatory heats.

The meet schedule included breaks through the day.  Some were familiar: "lunch" or "warm-up."  But "compensator setting" was a mystery until a parent explained it to me.  Compensators are automatic steering systems used by wheelchair racers on the track.  You can set your compensator to go straight or to curve around a bend.  But...while straight is the same on every track, the radius of a turn can vary depending on both the track and one's assigned lane on that track.  So...during compensator setting breaks, the wheelchair athletes in the upcoming heats practice the curves of the track in their assigned lane to ensure their compensators are set correctly for their next heat.

There is also an etiquette to wheelchair and ambulatory athletes sharing the track during warm-ups.  Essentially the wheelchairs get lanes 1-4, and the ambulatory athletes get lanes 6-8.  Lane 5 is to be kept empty as a buffer.

All of this was explained to me by wonderful, friendly people who welcomed me and wanted to make sure I was at ease and enjoying the meet.  It was really a great crowd of people.

***

I arrived at the meet pretty early - around 6:30 am.  This was because I was uncertain of how things were going to go, and I wanted to make sure I had sufficient time to figure out everything and warm-up sufficiently (the track closed to all at 7:35).  As it turned out, this was perfect timing.  

I jogged about 2.5 miles in a pair of old Sub-twos (chosen as my jogging/warm-up shoe because it was also legal for the track and could be used in an emergency) and then swapped to the Adios 4 to do my warm-up fartlek (3:00 at HM effort, 4x30 seconds at 5K effort, and 4x10 second strides).  It had rained overnight and the track was still damp and the air really humid. 

I finished my warm-up about 7:30. Which was perfect, since my first race - the 5000m - started at 7:40 am.  There were two heats: one for wheelchair racers and the other for ambulatory runners.  Since adaptive/para racing seems very biased towards the sprints, there were few takers for the 5000m - just one wheelchair racer in the first heat and me and a guy in his 20s for the ambulatory heat.

The rules were that we had to report to the "call room" (actually a tent at one end of the track) when called for our heat - which was generally 10-15 minutes before the first heat of any distance. For each distance the wheelchair racers went first, followed by the ambulatory runners - meaning that I spent a lot of my day in the call room area.

In the call area ambulatory runners were given sticky numbers for hip and chest (the wheelchair racers placed them on their helmets).  Once I had my sticky numbers placed correctly I watched the single wheelchair racer time-trial a sub-16:00 5000m to get his qualifier, and then it was my turn. 

*** 

The other runner and I were escorted across the infield to the 5000m start line.  The sun had emerged from the clouds and was clearing the fog; however, the humidity lingered.  It was steamy, but I was a marathoner from Virginia.  I wasn't that worried about the heat during a ~3 mile track race 200 miles north of home.

Since I had been standing for 20 minutes at this point, I asked if I could do two strides in the long jump runway and was granted permission.  I was stiff during the strides, but much better for them.

Then we lined up.  I had number 1, so I was on the inside, while the other runner started to my right.  As soon as the gun went off our lane assignments were irrelevant. He exploded off the line and I didn't and so he was almost instantly a full 20m ahead of me.

That was fine.  He was in a different division, and what I really cared about was qualifying, setting the national 5000m record for my division, and ideally leaving a little in the tank for later races.  So I eased into a tempo rhythm, noting how odd and awkward the old Adios shoes felt after doing all my track workouts in vaporflies.  As I turned onto the straightaway towards the finish line for the first time, I noted that there was a display counting down laps.  That was nice - I didn't need to keep track myself.

A lap or so later, I began to reel in the other runner.  Pretty soon I was on his shoulder.  He surged and I didn't - both because it was early in the race and I wanted to hold a steady effort and because I really couldn't.  He pulled away but then faded, and I was back next to him.  This happened twice more in the next two laps, and then I was pulling ahead.

From there on, I simply held my rhythm and counted down the laps, trying to ignore how uncomfortable my feet felt.  By the time I hit 6 laps left, I was feeling the heat and humidity and appreciating my conservative start   The last 3 laps were a major slog (so much for that whole "marathoner from Virginia" thing), but I managed to hold pace.  And then I was done and trying to catch my breath.  The trackside clock showed 22:31 - much slower than I had hoped I'd run - but I had hit my qualifying time (sub-27:00, so not a huge reach) and established the national record for the 5000m for my division (Women's T36) so it was all good.  

***

Next up was the 1500m, scheduled for around 10:15 am.  

When I had registered for this meet, I had signed up for the 5000m, 1500m, and 800m.  Since I'm a marathoner runner who gets faster the longer she runs, my hope was that all three distances would go fairly close to each other in time, so that I could knock them all out and be on my way home (I'd treat it like a cutdown track workout).  But no such luck - the 5000m was the first race of the morning, the 1500m was scheduled for 10:15 am, and the 800m for 3:10 pm.  

So I hung out for a while after my race, before jogging a mile plus some strides at 9:50 to loosen up for the 1500m.  According to the heat sheet, I was the only ambulatory woman in the 1500m, so this would be a solo time trial.  Being by myself was fine with me - I've certainly done enough solo workouts, and I wouldn't have to worry about race tactics or similar.

However, after I finished my warm-up, I was told that they had decided to combine the men's and women's heats, meaning that I would be running around 10:45 instead, during the men's ambulatory heat.  I was a bit surprised - I thought the rules required separate heats for the sexes at any distance under 3000m - but I was reassured by the officials that the heat would be legal and any records set during it would be valid.  I honestly would have preferred the earlier heat and running by myself, but it wasn't my call.  And I'm sure that combining the two heats helped the meet stay on schedule.

So, I waited through both the women's and men's wheelchair 1500m heats (3 total) and then headed towards the 1500m start when directed. Since we were crossing the field to the start line I took the opportunity to do a stride on the field, only to get yelled at.  I'm not sure why the stride was allowed for the 5000m but not the 1500m, but oh well.  At least I hadn't been DQed.

We lined up (I was lane 1, again).  There were 6 runners total in this heat - me and 5 males, ranging in age between 14 and 23.  None were in my T36 division - four of the five were T37s (another neurological division - with one bad side instead of two) and the fifth was a T20 (intellectually impaired).  

The starter gave us our final instructions, with a surprise twist.  Because we were effectively running two separate heats for the two sexes simultaneously, there could be no drafting between sexes.  I could not run in the same lane immediately behind any male, and they couldn't run behind me.  Honestly, it was the first I had ever heard of a no-drafting rule anywhere in running, but...this was also my first para-meet, so there you go.

Then the starter stepped back, barked "on your mark," and fired the pistol.

***

Unsurprisingly, I was once again dropped by everyone in the field.  The men all exploded off the line, but then started fading as early as 100m into the race.  This wouldn't have been an issue except for the no-drafting rule, which meant that I couldn't tuck in behind someone on a turn and then swing out wide on the straightaway to pass.  If they were in lane 1, I couldn't be behind them in lane 1.

Since I was running this race primarily for a qualifying time (sub 10:20) and to break the current national record for my division (7:40.40) I really didn't want to be DQed. In a slight excess of caution, I ran most of this race in either lane 2 or 3 to be super careful (I was unclear on exactly what distance between two runners qualified as drafting). 

Running wide, I reeled in 4 of the 5 men over the next three laps (all the T37s) but wasn't ever able to catch the T20 - he beat me by 30 seconds.   But I had achieved what I needed to.  Two races down, one to go.

***

The 800m was several hours away, so I found some shade and had lunch (gluten free bagel, bananas, and some dates - nothing heavy with a race a few hours away).  The track was open for a mid-day break, and so I jogged back over and did some strides in first my Adios 4s and then a brand new pair of Adidas Avanti spikes (without the actual spikes) that had been delivered on Friday afternoon.  The Avantis felt a bit better than the Adios during the strides, so I decided to try them in the 800m.  It was only two laps, so how bad could it be?

Then I hung out for a few more hours (the host team - the North Jersey Navigators - generously invited me to hang out under their tents) before jogging another mile plus some strides in preparation for my last race.

***

There were four heats of the women's 800m, and once again the ambulatory athletes were in the last heat.  Since all heats were ordered to the call box area 15 minutes before the start of the first heat, this meant that I stood (or did leg swings or marched in place to try to stay limber) for about 30 minutes before being called to the start line (WALKING ONLY this time).  My legs felt like they were made of iron, and not in a good way.

But hey, at least I had the Avantis on - perhaps they would be magic.   Only one way to find out.

We took our assigned lanes - the orders were to stay in lane until we ran past some cones.  At that point we could break to the inside lane.  I had been assigned lane 7, which I appreciated - the wider turn would be more comfortable.

Another "on your mark" and then the pistol.  And I lurched off the start line.  I stayed in my lane until I passed the cones, and then I gradually eased my way to the inside lane, hitting it just before the next turn (My coach had warned me not to cut in too quickly - you just add extra distance that way).

Three of the women were ahead of me at that point.  My legs felt utterly awful and clumsy, but even so I managed to pass one woman (a T37) and hang right off the shoulder of another (a T62 - aka a double amputee).  The T62 and I were together for about 500m - I tried to pass her but was honestly doing well just to stay on my feet at this point.  Then we hit the home stretch and she kicked, and I just watched her pull away while I ground my way to the finish, trying not to trip and fall over my Avantis.  

I ran 3:43 for the 800m - literally a slower pace than I had held for the 5000m or 1500m.  I was more amused than upset, though.  I knew the 800m was very much outside my wheelhouse, and I only needed to break 4:50 to qualify for nationals at that distance. As it turned out, the 3:43 was a national record for my division for the 800m as well (too bad they couldn't count one of the middle 800s of my 5000m from that morning), so the race was still a productive one, if ugly.

I was amused, though - post race - by the comments I received post-race on how obviously tired I was from having run the 5000m and 1500m first.  Honestly, fatigue was about 10% responsible for my bad race; the other 90% was having to stand for 30 minutes before running.

Nevertheless, I was done.  Finally.  I walked around a bit to say goodby to various friends I had made, cleaned up as best I could in a park bathroom, ate a belated box lunch (or two), and then jumped in the car for the three and a half hour drive home.  It had been a long day, but a fun and fulfilling one.

***

Splits for the three races, as noted by the timing system:

5000m: - the first 200m was 54 seconds, and then I split 1:49, 1:51, 1:50, 1:49, 1:48, 1:47, 1:47, 1:47, 1:48, 1:48, 1:48, 1:46

1500m: the first 300m was 1:18, and then I split 1:50, 1:47, 1:46

800m: splits were 1:50/1:53.

Other notes:

• The weather was pretty good for a track meet, but definitely warm.  It was 68 degrees with a matching dew point for the 5000m, 75 degrees with a dew point of 70 for the 1500m, and 81 degrees with a dew point of 70 for the 800m.  I felt the weather substantially affected me for the 5000m but wasn't really an issue for the 1500m or the 800m - such are the benefits of shorter races.
  
  
• I was really struck by how well managed this meet was.  Officials were everywhere, including various locations on the track, watching each race carefully for possible infractions. The names of all athletes and their clubs (nearly 100 athletes) were listed in a paper program distributed on race day. Free water and Gatorade were available to everyone and continually restocked.  Announcements and instructions were timely, clear, and easy to follow.  The results from each race were posted within 10 minutes of the race's completion.  It was just a high quality event.
  
  
• I think what I most enjoyed about this meet was how pure it was.  In recent years, it seems that races have become this weird carnival of selfie sticks and influencer meet ups and people printing up bibs with their own names on them and/or bitching about really trivial things like the composition of a race medal or jacket.  The bigger the race, the worse the circus. 
  
  This meet had none of that.  It was simply athletes toeing the line and racing as hard as they could, and then congratulating each other at the finish line, before taking to the sidelines to cheer for others.  No influencing or "inspiration" - just competition in a completely whining-free venue, where everyone was welcomed as an athlete and a fellow competitor.  It was utterly refreshing.

Training log - Week ending 5/19/2024

This week was 46 miles of running and 6 "miles" of pool-running -- training log is here.

This week was a good track workout and a not so good race.  I'm still trying to figure out the perfect balance of medications, and I suspect I got it wrong on Saturday.  The challenge is that the medications have a long tail, so any changes in dosing have an immediate effect, but also one that may not be noticeable for a few weeks.  So I just need to keep testing stuff and taking notes.

Thursday's shoe testing was because I have some para-athetic track meets coming up.  For those, I'm required to wear shoes with a sole thickness of 25mm or less, which rules out about 90% of the running shoes being made right now.  I am not at all comfortable running on my forefoot, so that eliminates most track spikes.

Fortunately, I have several boxes of old but unused racing shoes from 5+ years ago (before the high stack shoe craze) and so I've been testing those along with a pair of Dragonfly spikes that I bought for 50% off.  The shoes I tested on Saturday included the Reebok Floatride Runfast Pro, the Adidas Takumi Sen 7, and the Dragonflies.  Of those, I was pretty much tied between the Takumi Sen and the Dragonflies, but I have some more testing to do.

Monday: 6 miles very easy and upper body weights/core. Foam rolling in evening.

Tuesday: 10 miles, including a track workout of 6x800 in 3:26, 3:24, 3:18, 3:18, 3:18, and 3:16.  Recoveries of 2:5x-3:1x.  Followed with leg strengthwork.  Sports massage in evening.

 

Wednesday: 6 "miles" pool-running in the morning; streaming yoga in evening. Foam rolling in evening.

Thursday: 4 miles very easy (9:43), strides in various shoes, and then 3 miles very easy (9:21) in the morning; streaming pilates and foam rolling in the evening.

`

Friday: 5 miles very easy (9:53) on trails.  Foam rolling in evening.

Saturday: 3 mile warm-up and 5K race in 23:18. Followed with streaming pilates. Foam rolling in afternoon.

Sunday:  12 miles very easy (9:02) and weights (upper and lower body).  Foam rolling in evening.

Race Report: Lawyers Have Heart 5K, May 18, 2024

I ran the Lawyers Have Heart 5K today, finishing in a time of 23:18, which was a new lifetime worst for the 5K distance. 

(It had to happen sometime.)

I was initially entered in the 10K for this race, but I dropped down to the 5K because I have a para-athletic track meet in New Jersey next weekend.  The 5K would work better as a rust-buster for the shorter distances.  And though I've only done a few track workouts since Boston and my post-marathon break, they've all gone well.  Plus, I knew (or thought I knew - foreshadowing) this course and thought it would be a good one for me.

The website said the race started in West Potomac Park, so I had assumed that they were using the old 5K course that was a simple out-and-back towards Hains Point - very fast, flat, and smooth except for the brief humpback bridge each way.  

However, a few days before the race, I received an email detailing all the race day information, including the course - instead of heading to Hains Point we'd loop around the Tidal Basin and then take Independence over to the Memorial Bridge for an out and back before heading back on Independence to finish near the MLK Jr Memorial.  Still a fast course, but a few more inclines and declines than I had anticipated, and some rough pavement.   

But....one thing I know about managing neurological stuff - you have to keep pushing the edge and testing your capabilities, or they'll continue to shrink.  Viewed from that standpoint, the inclines and rough pavement were a plus.   

***

I debated what pair of shoes to wear for this race, before going with the Vaporfly 3 once again - they have good traction on wet pavement (rain was in the forecast), and I'm considering wearing them for the BAA 10K next month.  So I'd give them a test drive here.

With that decision made, I headed over to DC, arriving around 6:45 for a 7:45 start.  There was no parking near the race, so I parked near the White House and jogged the mile+ to the start in a comfortably cool drizzle.  My legs were worryingly stiff as I jogged over, but I had several miles of warm-up routine to do - hopefully that would take the edge off.

Things did smooth out some, but I never felt great.  I decided to write it off as a bad warm-up that had nothing to do with my potential race performance (I've run some great races after existentially poor warm-ups) and lined up.  Wished my teammates good luck, and we were off.

***

And...the race pretty much went the way the warm-up did.  My gait was off and awkward.  On a good day I feel smooth and can accelerate; on a bad day I'm locked in.  On a good day I can handle uneven pavement and cracks OK; on a bad day it feels like I'm running on a technical trail - liable to trip and fall if I don't place my feet carefully.  And this was a bad day.

Each mile was rough in its own way - I struggled with a slight decline off the bridge in the first mile, and then got stuck behind traffic on a narrow section of the course.  The second mile was Independence Avenue, which has needed repaving for the past three years.  And then there was the out-and-back on the bridge with all those seams - here's what my power meter looked like for that section.

I didn't even bother to look at the clock as I approached the finish - I knew this was not going to be a good performance by any standard other than pass/fail.  I crossed the finish, stopped my watch, and yup...23:17 - way slower than I had anticipated.

There were no mile markers on this course (ridiculous, given that this race had a $50 entry fee).  Not realizing this until too late, I didn't have my Garmin set to autolap, so we'll have to go with the Strava laps:

Mile 1: 7:33

Mile 2: 7:23

Mile 3: 7:17

Last bit: 6:55 pace

Overall - I ran this 5K at 7:30 pace.  As compared to the 4 mile tempo I ran last week on the track in 28:22 (7:08 pace).  But of course the track was flat and smooth, and my legs were working better then.  This race honestly felt like a much harder effort, for all that it was significantly slower.

The good news is that all of my teammates had great races - it was a fast day on a fast course.  Just not for me.  But...this race is in keeping with my recent trend of having an awful first race back after a break, so this is not necessarily an indication that I'm going to have a bad summer.  Indeed, it may indicate the opposite - I got the bad race out of the way early.  Let's hope.

***

Other notes:

• It was drizzly and low 60s for this race; had it not been raining this would have been a warm and humid race.  But the rain made all the difference.
  
  
• I wore Vaporflies for this race.  More specifically I wore my newer and bouncier pair of Vaporflies for this race.  I really do think that I need to be saving the newer pairs for workouts and racing in the older pairs, as odd and counter-intuitive as that sounds.  If I'm having any gait issues, the bounce amplifies them.
  
  An online friend has also been encouraging me to start racing shorter distances in non-super shoes - the hypothesis is that the super shoes cost me more than I gain at the shorter distances.  I do think he has a point - I just wanted to give things one more shot since my track workouts had been going so well in Vaporflies.  But...my best 5K performance in the past few years has been in the Adios 7, so I think I need to shift back to that type of shoe for the summer.  I guess it's a positive that the para-athlete track meets I'm going to do this summer will require me to wear a non-super shoe.
  
  
• I also think I need to tweak my medication some more.  This is hard to do - basically the neuro meds have both an immediate effect and a longer tail - any time you change doses it takes several weeks to see the final effects of the change.  The fact that I felt so good the first two weeks after we changed stuff, and then have felt a bit worse since, indicates to me that perhaps we undercut stuff slightly, and I'm a bit too low now. So I need to figure out how to bump it up slightly.
  
  
• I deliberately ran on trails the day before the race to try to prep a little for the rough pavement.  Didn't help (or maybe it did, and I would have run worse without having done so).  I think that for this summer I'm going to move some of my tempos away from the track and onto a running trail with some uneven pavement and undulations.

Training log - week ending 5/12/2024

This week was 40 miles of running and 9 "miles" of pool-running -- training log is here.

Not too much of note here - just track workouts on Tuesday and Friday.  I turned 50 this week, so I intentionally kept the weekend light on training so I could focus more on social stuff.

Yay new age group.

Monday: 9 "miles' of pool-running.  Foam rolling in evening.

Tuesday: 9 miles, including a track workout of 2x800, 1600, 800, 2x200 in 3:24, 3:24, 6:48, 3:18, 48, and 48.  Recoveries of 2:4x-2:5x after the 800s and 5:30 after the 1600; full recovery for the 200s.  Followed with leg strengthwork.

 

Wednesday: 9 miles very easy (9:22) and by upper body weights/core. Foam rolling in evening.

Thursday: 6 miles very easy on trails (10:13) and streaming pilates. Foam rolling in evening.

`

Friday: 9 miles on the track including a 6400m tempo in 28:21 (7:16/7:10/7:01/6:54) followed by leg strengthwork.  Foam rolling in evening.

Saturday: 7 miles very easy (9:20) plus drills/strides, followed by streaming pilates. Foam rolling in afternoon.

Sunday:  6 "miles" pool-running. Foam rolling in evening.

Training log - Week ending 5/5/2024

This week was 52 miles of running and 9 "miles" of pool-running -- training log is here.

I was still recovering from being sick at the start of the week, so I did Iwo Jima hills (500m to the top, 90 second jog, 100-200m downhill stride, and 45-60 second jog to bottom) as a form/gait workout.  This meant that I kept the effort very limited - instead of trying to run hard or fast, I focused on good form while only picking up the pace slightly.  

By Friday I was feeling better, so I returned to the track with tempo intervals.  These were much faster than I expected, despite the fact that I felt (and am) out of shape.  I suspect this is because I recently (post-marathon) changed my meds slightly.

By way of background, Parkinson's is essentially the brain's inability to produce enough dopamine. Dopamine is the neurotransmitter that sends signals to muscles, telling them when to contract and when to relax.  Without sufficient dopamine, your muscles get weak, confusing, intermittent signals - this results in weakness, slowness, shakiness, and poor control of your muscles.

So...you replace that dopamine through oral medication. This is obviously not going to work as well as the original - basically you are dumping chunks of dopamine into your brain a few times a day instead of your brain producing on demand when you need it.  And if you have too much dopamine in your brain, it doesn't always sit there and wait until it's needed - instead it starts sending additional and unwanted signals to your muscles. Which results in (again) poor muscle control - things like muscles contracting unexpectedly.

Ideally you hit the perfect not-too-much/not-too-little dose, which has to be adjusted according to activity - when you are more active (or stressed) you burn more.  It's a bit tricky.  What has made it more tricky for me is that I am very small, very active, relatively young, and female.  Your stereotypical Parkinsons patient is bigger, less active, older, and male. And the medications are manufactured with that patient in mind.

Rytary is essentially extended release dopamine - it comes in four different strengths (95, 145, 195, 245), and most patients - older, bigger, inactive men - take 3-4 pills of it at each dosing (generally you take a dose 3-5 times a day).  Because they take 3-4 pills each time, they can mix and match the different strengths to fine tune the dose to their needs.

However, I need a much smaller dose than the average patient - I take just one pill each time, with one of the strengths (the 145) being not enough and the other (the 195) being too much.  Ideally, I'd be on a "175" but they don't manufacture that strength and the pills can't be split.

So, I've been swapping back and forth - taking a 195 pill before working out in the morning and dropping to 145 for the other three doses that day.  It's worked OK, but not great. Basically, running on the 195 means that I'm constantly working really hard mentally when running to keep my leg muscles  from contracting at the wrong time in each stride cycle. And the faster I try to run, the harder it is to control things.  Effectively, my speed is limited not by my fitness but by my ability to manage my legs.

So....the change that we recently made was to add another medication, called a COMT-inhibitor, which basically boosts the Rytary (it's more complicated than that, but you get the point).  The thought was by adding the COMT-inhibitor and then dropping back to a lower dose of Rytary, we'd get closer to the ideal amount of medication for me.

And...so far it seems to be working.  While things aren't perfect, I have a lot more control of my legs now.  And better coordination means that I move more efficiently, with less mental effort.  I have a little less power/energy - which also corresponds to less dopamine - but the tradeoff is overall a big positive, running-wise.  I'm fighting my own muscles less, so I'm running faster.

One of my big frustrations during track workouts over the past year is that my lack of coordination has been the upper limit on how fast I can run - I am (or was) limited to slightly faster than tempo pace. Which has made it really difficult to improve my VO2Max. 

This held until Friday - my first track workout on the new medication regime.  On Friday, for the first time in what seems like forever, I was able to run hard enough to really elevate my heart rate during the workout. That itself was a shock to the system (and highlighted how unsurprisingly out of shape I am), but it was a pleasant shock. Not coincidentally, I also ran my fastest 1600 on the track in about a year despite the fact this was my first track workout after my post-marathon break.  

If I'm now capable of running faster than tempo effort during track workouts, then that's good news - it means that the door is open to improve my speed, and maybe get a bit closer to where I used to be.

Monday: 7 miles very easy (9:24) and upper body weights/core.  Foam rolling in evening.

Tuesday: 8 miles with 6 moderate Iwo Jima hills plus leg strengthwork.  Sports massage in evening.

 

Wednesday: 8 miles very easy on trails (10:06) followed by upper body weights/core. Foam rolling in evening.

Thursday: 9 "miles" of pool-running and streaming pilates. Foam rolling in evening.

`

Friday: 9 miles with 3200, 1600 in 14:13 (7:14/6:59) and 6:45, with ~5 minute jog in between, followed by leg strengthwork.  Foam rolling in evening.

Saturday: 8 miles very easy (9:25) plus drills/strides, followed by streaming pilates. Foam rolling in evening.

Sunday:  12 miles easy (8:58) and streaming yoga. Foam rolling in evening.

Training log - Week ending 4/28/2024

This week was 34 miles of running and 7 "miles" of pool-running -- training log is here.

Building up, plus a break when I got sick this weekend and spent a good chunk of Saturday in bed.    

I can't say I enjoyed being sick (at all), but at least I was sick on the one weekend where I had no major racing, training, or social plans, leaving me free to mire in a puddle of my own misery sans FOMO.  So that was a faint positive (in contrast to the Covid test, which was negative).

I did decide to revise my summer racing plans slightly (I did this while I was sick, but not because I was sick).  My original plan was to head up to Duluth, Minnesota once again this summer to race the Garry Bjorklund Half during Grandma's Marathon weekend.  I really like that race, and this would be my first year there in the 50-54 age group.

However, the BAA 10K in Boston is the same weekend, and offers my para-division, with prize money to the winner.  Boston is also an easier and cheaper trip than Duluth, and racing in Boston on Sunday means I don't have to take any days off of work, while racing in Duluth on Saturday would require taking Thursday and Friday as vacation days for travel.

So, while I'm a bit sad about missing Grandma's weekend, it just made sense to change plans (and I like supporting the BAA's decision to offer para-divisions by showing up for them).  This also means that my longest race in the next 4 months will be a 10K, which is a good thing.  The shorter distances are weaker for me, and so I'll benefit from focusing on them for a few months.

Monday: 7 "miles" pool-running and streaming yoga.  Foam rolling in evening.

Tuesday: 5.5 miles very easy (9:50) plus leg strengthwork.  Foam rolling in evening.

 

Wednesday: 8.5 miles very easy (9:33) with some grass-running, followed by upper body weights/core. Foam rolling in evening.

Thursday: 8.5 miles very easy on trails in the morning (10:10); streaming pilates and foam rolling in the evening.

`

Friday: 7 miles, including 4 Iwo Jima hills, followed by leg strengthwork.  Foam rolling in evening.

Saturday: Off.  Sick.  Just stretching and foam rolling.

Sunday:  4.5 miles very easy on trails (10:20)

Training log - Week ending 4/21/2024

This week was 30 miles of running and 33 "miles" of pool-running -- training log is here.

This was marathon week, plus recovery.  The first few days were very gentle pool-running (basically just moving my legs in the water) and junk food; I'm now transitioning back into training.

In my training and recovery, I'm always balancing neurologic concerns against orthopedic/endocrinologic concerns.  This makes my training a bit different from both a) those who are just trying to manage neurologic stuff via exercise and b) runners without neurological issues.   

Proper training for runners without neurological problems is basically train hard and make sure to recover well, repeat.  There's an up and down to it.  In contrast, neurologic stuff demands steady hard work every day.  The more hard exercise you do, the more the brain thrives.  So....steady and hard.  No time off.

As I've noted before, when I'm training for a race, striking this balance requires that I really not taper too much (I'll feel more rested, but that does me no good if I'm too uncoordinated to use my legs well on race day). 

However, this also means that when I've just run a marathon, I need to depart from the neurological "ideal" of training hard with no breaks.  Monday's race was very hard on my body, and so my body and mind needed a chance to heal, even if doing so was not ideal for my Parkinsons. 

As of the end of this week, I'm feeling stiff and awkward, but still far better for the relative rest.

Monday: ~1 mile shakeout jog and then a marathon in 3:41:17.

Tuesday: Off for travel.

 

Wednesday: 90 minutes pool-running and foam rolling

Thursday: 90 minutes pool-running in the morning; streaming pilates and foam rolling in the evening.

Friday: 90 minutes pool-running.  Foam rolling in evening.

Saturday: 1 hour pool-running + upper body weights/core and foam rolling.

Sunday:  3 miles very easy (10:05) and streaming yoga + foam rolling.

Race report: Boston Marathon 2024, April 15, 2024

I ran the Boston Marathon on Monday, finishing in a time of 3:41.17, which was good enough to win the Women's Para 35-38 division at Boston.

My original plan for the spring was the Salisbury Marathon in Maryland the week before Boston.  Salisbury would have been the perfect set up for me to run a fast marathon - it's well managed, small, and flat.  However, in December I learned that Boston was offering a new para-athlete division in 2024 with substantial prize money to the winner. And my Parkinsons disease meant that I was eligible.

So, I wrote the BAA to see if there was a way I could get in.  I had missed the September deadline to apply for Boston in the open field, and though I was eligible to be a para-athlete, I was not currently classified as a para-athlete. Since I wasn't currently classified, I couldn't enter the para-athlete division.

However, "adaptive athletes" (those with certain health conditions, including Parkinsons) were allowed to enter the marathon late, as long as they had run a marathon in under 6 hours in the past year.  The BAA invited me to enter as an adaptive athlete, with the understanding that they would hold a slot open for me in the para-athlete field if I could get classified as a para-athlete before race day.

Wonderfully, the BAA then coordinated a classification opportunity for myself and about 10 other aspirational para-athletes.  In early April my classification appointment was confirmed and we were on.  Now I just had to get classified.

***

My classification appointment was at 1 pm on Saturday in the Hynes Convention Center (where the Expo was). 

When I arrived at the convention center, the line to enter the expo extended down the sidewalk further than I could see.  I showed my confirmation email to a guard to see if I could skip the line, since I wasn't going to the expo.  Nope - everybody had to wait in line.  I was concerned, but fortunately the line moved quickly and soon I was navigating my way to Room 109, where a big sign confirmed I was in the right place.

There was a table with two chairs behind it, and another chair sitting separately against a wall.  The separate chair looked like the waiting chair, so I sat there with Fugazi's "Waiting Room" stuck in my head. 

I read my phone for about 20 minutes, and then a woman in a BAA jacket arrived. We chatted briefly to establish that I was the first classification appointment of the afternoon, not the scheduled volunteer.  Then she shifted to stacking and shuffling forms. After they were stacked and shuffled to satisfaction, she invited me over to fill one form out and review another.  

I declined her offer to help me rise from my chair (wondering if I had just failed a pop quiz) and walked over. The first form was stuff about sharing my medical information and agreeing to be honest and try my best at anything I was asked to do.  The second listed questions that I would be asked during the examination - what sport I competed in, what were my best performances, medications...  

I signed where asked and returned to the chair of Fugazi, debating whether this felt more like waiting for a doctor's appointment or waiting for a job interview.  The classification evaluation team rolled in a few minutes later, there was some more shuffling of papers and some opening and closing of doors, and then I was invited into a large hotel conference room with several chairs and a medical examining table off to one side.  The doors clanged shut behind me.

***

At this point, it's probably helpful to outline how para-athlete classification works. It's much more than a doctor's note.

As background, para-athletes compete in different sport-specific classifications, each designated by a letter followed by two numbers.  The letter designates the sport - all track athletes (which includes marathoning) have the T prefix on their classification (it's F for field athletes - shot put, etc). 

The numbers designate the physical ability (or lack thereof), with the first number defining the nature of the impairment - for example, T1# athletes are visually impaired, T6# athletes use a lower limb prosthesis.  As a wannabe coordination impaired athlete, I was going for a T3# classification.  

The second number describes the severity of the impairment: more impairment means a lower #.

In order for an athlete to be classified, there are three questions that are considered in order:

1) does the athlete have an eligible impairment? If so, then...
2) does the athlete meet the minimum impairment criteria (MIC)?  If so, then...
3) into which class should the athlete be placed?

Taking each in turn:

Eligible Impairment 

Not every limitation is an eligible impairment - some health conditions can be significant obstacles to performance but are NOT eligible impairments (asthma, chronic fatigue, or chronic pain are good examples). There are ten eligible impairments for para-athletic sport (listed here), eight of which are physical.  Of the ten eligible impairments, I actually have three (hypertonia, ataxia, and athetosis) - all of which fall under the umbrella of coordination impairment.

If you have a coordination impairment, it must be caused by an underlying health condition in order to be an eligible impairment.  For example, you don't get to be a para-athlete simply because you have "hypertonia" (i.e., you are very stiff) because you blew up in a hot downhill marathon two days ago.  You have to have an underlying health condition that causes the hypertonia.

I met this hurdle by providing documents from my medical files documenting my rigidity and dystonia as assessed by my neurologist (that's the impairment) and showing my diagnosis of Parkinsons (the underlying health condition).  I had to provide these documents to the United States Olympic and Paralympic Committee in late March before I was scheduled for my classification evaluation.

Minimum Impairment Criteria (MIC)

Basically, is the athlete impaired to the point that it affects their athletic performance?  It's worth noting that this is a relative question, not an absolute question.  You can be an extremely fast runner and still meet the MIC (you would just be a lot faster without the impairment), or a very slow runner and NOT meet the MIC - the question is whether you are impaired, not how fast you are.  

This was what was being assessed during my classification evaluation.

Placement in a Class

If I was found to both a) have an eligible impairment and b) meet the MIC, then I'd be assigned to a class. Since I was going for a coordination impairment classification, I'd be assigned a classification of T31-38.  Of those, T31-34 are for athletes who compete in wheelchairs; T35-38 are for ambulatory athletes.  (If I didn't meet the MIC, I'd be classified as NE - noneligible).

***

Back to the conference room and the ominous just-closed doors.

I was invited over to sit in a chair by two gently smiling women.  They offered assistance and I declined (bombed another quiz).  They then explained how the hour would go - they'd ask me some questions, then examine me on the table.  Depending on how that went, they might ask me to do some stuff while they watched.

The questions mapped to the sheet I had been provided a few minutes earlier - what sports did I compete in, what were my best performances, how was I impaired, what made stuff worse (running downhill is a big one), what medications was I on.  I explained to them that I had pre- and post-Parkinsons marathon PRs (2:57:42 in 2018 versus 3:20:29 in 2023) and they seemed to find that very interesting. Then I removed my shoes and hopped on the examination table.

My job was to lay on my back and stay as relaxed as possible (like during a sports massage), so I closed my eyes and tried to zen.  One of the women grasped my right arm and raised it and began moving my wrist around.  She flexed it a couple of times at different speeds/directions, and then stated a number, which the other woman wrote down. Then onto the elbow and shoulder (each assessed a number), before shifting to my left side to do the same thing.  Then she moved onto my legs to do the same thing (more numbers).  

After we were done with the joint stuff, they stroked my feet a few times to see what happened (I know this one - this is the Babinski test) and tapped me in various places with a rubber hammer. More numbers.  

Then they asked me to take the heel of one foot, touch it to my shin right below my knee, and run my heel down my shin to the ankle.  I did this several times on each side and to my great annoyance could not seem to keep my heel touching my shin.  It was just like curling your tongue - seems simple if you can do it, but I just couldn't.  More numbers.  Apparently, I had passed this section of the examination (which I guess means I failed in one sense), because they asked me to get up and walk around the conference room.

This next phase felt like an intense physical therapy session.  They had me walk barefooted (sure).  Then they had me jog barefooted (didn't they know I had a marathon in 48 hours?).  Then they asked me to run as fast as I could (still barefoot) from one wall of the conference room to the other and back twice.

Um.....this was exactly the sort of thing I would normally refuse to do in my last week or two of taper.  But I needed my classification to run in the para-athlete division, which was the whole reason I was running Boston. And doing barefoot sprints was apparently part of classification.  So I sucked it up and sprinted as best I could.

I did the barefoot shuttle-run sprints a few times (they gave me a chance to catch my breath between rounds), and then some running drills (cariokes and side steps), some heel and toe walks and some single leg balance stuff (I'm very good at all of those), and some single leg hops.  Then they let me put my shoes back on and I repeated the shuttle-run sprint a final time.

Then I left the room for a few minutes so they could compare notes.  The conference doors opened, and I returned to the waiting chair which was occupied by the next appointment.  Someone offered me another chair so I didn't have to stand and I declined (that was three failed pop quizzes in just over an hour).

After about 5 minutes I was invited back in for the verdict.

***

As I noted above, there are four ambulatory T3# classifications.  The classifiers explained that T38 was a catch-all classification for those who met the MIC but didn't really have anything beyond that.  T37 was for those who were affected on one limb or one side of their body.  If your right leg is great and your left leg is neurologic, you are a T37.

As for me, I was a "classic T-36."  What they had noticed was that my muscles tended to respond jerkily and unevenly.  I was very "wiggly."  What made me "classic" was that I was great at doing one thing steadily (balancing on one foot, walking on my toes).  But when required to do sudden changes - things like accelerating, then hitting the brakes and pivoting to run the other way, everything got messy.  

This was consistent with my training and racing experiences - I can run well on flat smooth surfaces in uncrowded situations at a steady hard pace with a long warm-up.  But if you add uneven surfaces, or crowds, or sharp turns, or speeding/up slowing down (track interval workouts) everything gets much harder.

They explained that difficulty running downhill was also very normal for a T36 athlete.  Downhill running involves eccentric contractions to maintain your balance.  It's neurologically challenging - it requires instant and exact response from your muscles.  Uphill running has a lot more room for neurological error - you don't need as much control, just power.

So there we were - I was a T36.  Well, tentatively.  The final requirement was that they would be observing all the newly classified athletes during the marathon.  If what they saw during the race didn't match what they had seen in the conference room, they could revoke my classification (which would also DQ me from the para competition).  It was extremely rare for this to happen, but it did occasionally.

Thus, I had to describe what I planned to wear on Monday so they could pick me out from the crowds.  I did, and then I was free to pick up my number.  Now I just had to run a marathon.  A downhill, crowded marathon with plenty of uneven surfaces.

***

Relieved and on a bit of a high, I made my way over to room 201 (separate from normal bib pick-up) to grab my bib.  Getting there involved displaying emails on my phone to several very serious looking people so that I could duck under various ropes and around various lines.  

Upon arriving in room 201, I was asked if I was a support runner and responded that I was a para-athlete (this would be a common theme for the rest of the weekend).  I showed my confirmation email and explained that I had just been classified.  I waited a few minutes while my purple wave 1 bib was swapped out for a yellow bib - P156 - and then I was good to go.  

I flashed my phone+emails a few more times to duck under a few more ropes so I could buy a stuffed unicorn at the expo (black shirt this year - a good sign?) before wending my way back to my hotel in the hinterlands of Lechmere (an area of Cambridge about 30 minutes by green line T from the finish line).

***

That was Saturday. Sunday was a shake out jog and Chipotle and stretching and emails and watching Cevin Key's Sunday live chat until it was hilariously shut down by Youtube for a copyright violation (Cevin was playing one of his band's own videos....).

My instructions were to be in the lobby of a downtown Boston hotel by 5:30 am sharp on Monday to board the buses to the start. This was non-negotiable - if I missed these buses, I'd have to take the later buses used by the open field and would not be allowed to start with the para division.

This was going to be tight, as the first green line train from Lechmere was leaving at 4:56 in the morning and would get me to the hotel at 5:25.  Doable, but close.  Since I wasn't comfortable with that, I reserved a cab for 4:30 am. Admittedly super-early, but if my cab didn't show, I would still have time to walk to the Lechmere T station and take my chances with the train.

***

Race morning dawned at 3:55 am (the first of three alarms I had set).  I did my early morning routine and double checked my plastic race-issued-tote to confirm it had my racing shoes, breakfast, and anything (or everything) else I might possibly want.  My cab showed up at 4:40 which was both nerve-wracking and still got me to the hotel lobby early.  So overall fine.

I was unsurprisingly the first athlete to show up in the lobby. A nice woman in a BAA jacket approached and asked if I was a support runner. I explained I was a para-athlete and showed my bib and she pointed me towards what would be the para-athlete area.  

She also apologized several times for the hotel bathrooms being upstairs and less chairs being available than in previous years.  I assured her that everything was great, and it was.  The last time I did this race I was trudging through mud past portajohns in Boston Common to get on a school bus - everything about this morning so far (save the absence of my 2018 training partners Chris, Juan, and Larry) was a massive upgrade.

The vast lobby of the hotel was allocated between the elites, the wheelchair racers, the hand cycle racers, the duo racers, and the para/adaptive athletes. This structure made sense, as each group had different tasks to focus on before getting on the buses to the start.  Specifically, the wheelchair, hand cycle, and duo racers each had mandatory equipment checks.  

As for the para-athletes?  We just hung out, stretched, drank free coffee and water, and chatted.  Which was great, as it gave me a chance to learn more about some of the other para-athlete divisions.

Thanks to Sara Whittingham for the picture!

I had some imposter syndrome as I chatted with amputees and visually impaired runners - I was the one who looked like she didn't belong.  But they rapidly put me at ease and welcomed me.

I also was able to finally meet some of the other Parkinsons runners who were running Boston in person as para- or adaptive athletes - Craig, Joe, Renee, Rhonda, and Sara.  It was great to meet after so much online discussion in the weeks leading up to the race.

Then, at around 6:30, we exited the lobby and boarded the buses to the start.

***

One of my never-achieved running goals was to run Boston as a masters elite. A decade ago, the elite masters standard for women at Boston was sub-3. But by the time I broke three hours for the marathon, the standard had tightened. I chased faster times but was first delayed and then blocked by the triple whammy of getting hit by a truck + the covid pandemic + Parkinsons, while the standard continued to drop (it's now 2:48). So I had moved on.

But now, via weird backdoor, I was living the experience I thought out of reach.  Our chartered bus (a Mercedes - no school buses for us) rumbled towards Hopkinton while state police halted traffic for us.  

Piles of gels!

Once in Hopkinton, we were treated to a heated tent that featured not just chairs, coffee, and water, but also yoga mats for anyone who wanted to stretch and mounds of free Maurten gels.  I've been fortunate enough to be included in the elite or sub-elite programs at several races over the years - I think this may be the best elite treatment I've ever personally experienced.

[it took some restraint, but I managed to NOT shovel a large # of the Maurten gels into my gear bag for later use when nobody was looking.]

[some of this restraint may have stemmed from the fact that there was never a time when nobody was looking.]

Arriving in Hopkinton at 7:30 for a 9:50 start meant plenty of time to kill, so I hung out, chatted with others, stretched, took some pictures, and ate my pre-race breakfast (rice plus Maurten+Ucan gels).  Around 9 am I headed out for a 10 minute shakeout jog.  Then one final bathroom break, a double-check that I had everything I needed and nothing I didn't, and a watch-buzz reminder to take my Rytary (Parkinsons med that helps my muscles work right - I get about 4-4.5 hours out of it, so I like to take it about 20-30 minutes before the start of a marathon).  After all of that I joined the para-athlete group to follow the elite fields to the starting line. It was already a warm and brightly sunny morning, so no need for last-minute throwaways.  Just t-shirts, singlets, and sports bras.

The experience felt somewhat like a row of airlines waiting for take-off.  First in line were the men's elite field, then the women's elite field, and then us.  Each with our own ground crew signaling where and when to go.  The men lined up, were introduced, and then took off.  The women proceeded to the line for introductions and then the gun.  I've seen (and even occasionally participated in) elite race starts before, but there was something about watching the Boston women's elite start from this close that sent a chill down my neck.

Thanks to Joe Drake for the video!

Then it was our turn.  Just like the other two groups, we marched to the front.  A few luminaries of the para field - past winners and course record holders - were introduced by name to applause.  Then we were given the 20 second warning, followed by the gun.

***

I had some pretty specific goals in running Boston as a para-athlete, and they were not time-based.  Part of this is that I was fairly certain that I would struggle to run to my fitness on this downhill rolling course even in perfect weather.  As a "classic T36" I find it much harder to run fast downhill than on the flat, and obviously I can't make the time up running uphill.  It's also challenging for me to run fast from a standstill, especially when I've been standing for a few minutes or longer.  So a marathon where the first 6 miles were mostly downhill after standing around for a while was always going to be rough.

I also suspected that the weather would be a real factor today.  However, I was confident of my ability to close a marathon hard even in rough weather.  Thus, my game plan was go out very slowly the first 6 miles or the race (at easy pace or close to it), then build into a moderate effort (easier than marathon effort) which I would hold through mile 16. The Newton hills began at mile 16 - at that point I'd hopefully be in striking distance of whomever was leading my division, and I'd chase them down and hammer to the finish to snag the win.  Hopefully.

Given this strategy, I was expecting not to lead the para field when the gun fired.  I was NOT expecting to be dropped by the entire field.  But that was exactly what happened, and within about 2 minutes I was dead last.  Sara - another T36, an all around great person, and my closest competition for the win in our division - had exploded off the line and was smoothly striding into the distance.  (Did I mention that she completed Kona last year and clearly knew something about hot weather racing?)

I'd like to stay that I stuck to my racing plan out of discipline and confidence.  The truth is that I was really struggling with the steep downhill of the first mile, and a shuffling pace was the best I could do.

Being dead last and struggling with my balance that first mile was mortifying.  I had told my family and friends I might be on TV, and now I was really hoping I wasn't.  The one positive was that perhaps the classifiers WERE watching.  Oh, and at least I wasn't starting too fast.

***

Those early miles were eerie.  Once again I was running the first miles of a marathon major completely solo, sandwiched in between the elites and the waves of open runners about to be released.  The one thing that made this a bit better than Chicago 2022 was that I felt a bit more justified in my pace and position.

The Boston course turns and winds a bit through Hopkinton, and so it's actually pretty easy to lose sight of those ahead of you if they aren't within 100m or so.  Soon I was alone - shuffling down the hill and reminding myself to stay patient and relaxed until things started working.

I would round a turn at my trying-not-to-trip-downhill pace, and I'd hear an enormous roar from the crowds on each side.  I knew it couldn't be the first wave runners (they hadn't been released yet) but there weren't any runners near me or ahead of me.  I was honestly confused as to what was going on.  Finally, I cranked my head around to look behind me and saw nothing but empty road.

It took another 10 seconds or so for me to realize that everyone on both sides was cheering for me.

It's been nearly a week now, and I'm still not sure how to map those feelings to words.

***

I shuffled and shuffled, and then my gait started to improve a bit and I could pick up speed.  After another mile my gait was better and I could start subbing in racing discipline for physical limitation.  The next few miles were about sticking to the plan, staying on top of my drinking and nutrition, and staying to the left to let the faster wave 1 runners by (the para-athletes had been instructed to stay left).

For the most part, being passed by the wave 1 runners at Boston was not as rough as it had been at Chicago in 2022.  I suspect part of this is because Boston is a far smaller race.  The only place where things were tough was the water stations. With cups on both sides of the road, staying to the left meant that wave 1 runners were constantly ducking in front of me to grab water, which disrupted my balance.  I suspect that since I didn't look like a para-athlete many of them were treating me like a competitor who had started ahead of her fitness.

***

After mile 6 things leveled off, and I relaxed into moderate effort.  I didn't feel great - I was already a bit warm with the sun blazing overhead and my breathing was tight (the pollen was very high), but things were still under control.  I took a puff of my asthma inhaler to loosen things up slightly and reminded myself that there was a lot of race ahead of me - stay in control and keep making good decisions.

The mile markers and 5K markers clicked by (a bit slower than I would have liked).  As we approached mile 10 I was surprised to see Sara up ahead.  I had hoped to catch her at or right before the Newton hills.  It became clear to me that the heat and sunshine were already claiming casualties among smart and accomplished runners.  At that point I adjusted my plan - I'd stick to moderate effort unless I saw that I needed to do something different to try to win.

So I held steady as we went down and up.  The downhills got better but still were never comfortable, and I could tell that I was shredding my quads despite my care - when you have to fight for your stability running downhill, your legs pay a price regardless of pace.

By 19 I was starting to feel rough, and "hammering" was no longer an option.  Each mile after that got a bit harder, and by mile 22 I started to notice the warning signs of heat illness - that combination of vision narrowing and heaviness, plus some weaving.  The right side of my back was also cramping and my right calf felt like it wanted to ball up.

I really wanted to win this division.  And I also knew that passing out from overheating in the final miles was an easy way to lose. So, I put pride aside and shifted to a run/walk strategy to keep my heart rate somewhat under control (when I'm overheating, walking will cool me back down, but very slow running accomplishes nothing).  

I was run-walking scared, worried that I was about to be passed behind (or perhaps already had been), so I kept my run phases pretty hard.  

Finally, I saw the turns onto Hereford and then Boylston.  I committed to running this last section of the race and managed to do so, though it felt awful.  As I rounded the turns, I noted several people on stretchers without comprehending (until I had finished) that they were runners who had passed out.

Thanks to Jessenia Delgado for the video!

With about 50 meters to go, I noticed a display scrolling information above the race clocks.  It flashed "Congratulations - Cristina Burbach - division winner women's T35-38."   And a small part of me finally enjoyed the last 50 meters of the Boston Marathon, while the rest of me remembered that nothing counted until I was across the mats.

***

Splits ended up being:

Miles 1-2: 18:20
Mile 3: 8:07
Mile 4: 8:32
Mile 5: 8:24
Mile 6: 8:16
Mile 7: 8:06
Mile 8: 8:11
Miles 9-10: 15:56
Mile 11: 8:01
Mile 12: 8:02
Mile 13: 8:04
Mile 14: 8:03
Mile 15: 8:22
Mile 16: 8:07
Mile 17: 8:28
Mile 18: 8:38
Mile 19: 8:24
Mile 20: 8:30
Mile 21: 8:52
Mile 22: 8:25
Mile 23: 8:55
Mile 24: 8:48
Mile 25: 9:24
Mile 26: 8:54
last .21 - 1:33

Post race was busy.  I saw several of my teammates in the finishing area - we'd all struggled in the heat, with sunburn war wounds to show for it.  I regrouped for a bit and then headed back to Lechmere for a shower.

A bit later, I received an email confirming that I'd won my division (there was a period where protests could be lodged, and I suspect the classifiers also had to sign off that I was indeed impaired).  So back to downtown Boston where I flashed my winner's email to five different hotel staffers to get admitted to the awards room.  

I assumed that once there, I'd just be given my trophy in a box.  I was shocked when they offered to make a presentation, complete with a wreath of olive leaves that I was allowed to keep as well.  Just one more thing that made a special day even more special.

Other notes:

• As noted above, I did NOT shovel the mounds of free Maurten gels into my bag when given the opportunity.   Sadly, later that afternoon, when I packed my box to ship it home, I forgot to ship the Maurten gels I had brought with me (but hadn't used). Since I didn't have room in my carryon, those gels ended up left in my hotel room.  The gel gods giveth and the gel gods taketh.
  
  
• I wore my Nike Vaporfly 3s for this race.  They have always felt great at marathon pace; however, due to both weather and strategy, I never actually hit my marathon pace in this race.  And the Vaporfly 3 is NOT a comfortable shoe at slower paces.  I think I also would have been more stable downhill in another shoe.  Noted for next time.
  
  
• One thing I really struggled with was sleep the last two nights before the marathon.  While some of this may have been nerves, I think most of it was that I didn't taper back my Parkinsons meds the way I would normally prefer to do.  The amount of medication I need depends on how much activity I'm doing - when I'm backing off of the exercise, maintaining the same level of medication gives me insomnia.  At the same time, I didn't want to go to my classification appointment and tell them that I had taken less medication than I would on race day - I was afraid it would look like I was trying to game the system.  Hopefully I won't have to deal with that again.
  
  
• I FedExed the trophy home - taking the padded box the trophy came in and packing that in MORE bubble wrap and an additional box.  As for the wreath?  I carried that home on the plane in a Chipotle paper bag, nervous the whole time that if I wasn't touching it some well meaning stranger would toss it in the trash.
  
  
• In 2018, I heat-trained all winter, and we got the coldest most miserable Boston ever.  This year I made a point to do workouts in cold heavy rain and wind, and we got bright sunshine and heat illness.  I'm now taking suggestions on what sort of weather to train in next winter.
  
  
• It was really great to meet all the other runners with Parkinsons.  I like to think that at this point I know a fair bit about running and racing.  But I still have a ton to learn about how to do either with Parkinsons.  I'm really fortunate to have the runners I met at Boston, plus my friend and teammate Ethan at the Michael J. Fox foundation, as resources and trailblazers from whom I can learn.
  
  
• I am struggling to express just how much I appreciate the BAA and Bank of America offering the T35-38 para division.  And while the VIP treatment we received was awesome, what I am most grateful for is the opportunity they provided me to compete against my peers. 
  
  When you get diagnosed with one of these neurodegenerative conditions, everyone assumes that you should be happy just to be able to run and to finish a race, especially a marathon.  The implication is that one is no longer (and should no longer be) a competitive athlete.  For me, this was the hardest part of being diagnosed.  It was also something I chose to ignore, since high amounts of intense aerobic exercise are the best way to slow Parkinsons, and racing motivates me far more than slowing disease progression does.  I might be slower, but I still wanted to compete.  I wanted to continue to be me.
  
  By offering this division, the BAA and Bank of America sent a clear message: they saw me as a competitor, not an inspirational story. I never had the sense that anyone felt sorry for me the whole weekend, just that they respected me. It was huge - both for me, and for many other people with Parkinsons who may have abandoned competitive sports out of well-meant but misguided societal peer pressure to live a softer, gentler life. I hope those people will see the respect offered by the Boston Marathon and realize that, though they do face obstacles they didn't before, their competitive life is not a relic of the past.

Training log - Week ending 4/14/2024

This week was 36 miles of running -- training log is here.

Just the last week of training before a Monday marathon (which always makes for an awkward training log).  The one thing of real interest is that I got classified as a T36 para-athlete on Saturday, based on my Parkinsons disease.

(Yup, I know I haven't yet explicitly stated it here, though I did mention it on Instagram - my runner's dystonia that I've been battling for years ended up being Parkinsons disease - I was diagnosed in early 2023.  Which is not cool in a lot of ways but does make me eligible to be a para-athlete.  Back to the story.)

To explain very quickly - para-athletes are divided into different categories, based on the nature and extent to which their performance is limited.  For track athletes (including marathons), all classification categories start with a T (for track).  Then the number afterward describes the nature/extent of the impairment.  Categories 31-38 are for the coordination-impaired, with categories 31-34 being wheelchair and 35-38 being standing (or running) athletes.  Since I have coordination challenges that are not limited to one side of my body or one limb, and that are significant, I was classified as a T36. 

The whole classification process was really interesting - it took about an hour and involved paperwork, a short interview, an orthopedic/neurological examination (lots of tapping on stuff and bending joints and "touch this body part to this body part"), followed by me doing some calisthenic and PT type exercises while they watched and graded me.  I'll likely touch on it more in either my race report or a separate blog post.

In the meantime, I'm now in the para-athlete field for tomorrow.  This will be an adventure.

Monday: 8 miles very easy (9:17).  Foam rolling in evening.

Tuesday: 8 miles with a track workout of 6x800 in 3:32, 3:30, 3:24, 3:21, 3:22, 3:20 (recoveries of 2:3x-2:5x in between).

 

Wednesday: 6 miles (9:21) plus drills and two strides, followed by upper body weights/core. Foam rolling in evening.

Thursday: 6 miles easy (9:07) plus drills and two strides; sports massage and streaming Pilates in afternoon.

Friday: Off for travel

Saturday: 4 miles very easy (9:40) in morning; para-athlete classification in afternoon. 

Sunday:  4 miles very easy (9:30) plus two relaxed strides in morning, yoga in afternoon.  Foam rolling in evening.

Training log - Week ending 4/7/2024

This week was 45 miles of running, 9 "miles" of pool-running and 1000 yards of swimming -- training log is here.

The week started with a hiccup, when I showed up for the team track workout but had an awful morning gait-wise.  My legs were just too stiff to move fast, so I ended up pulling the plug.  A sports massage that night helped stuff calm down a lot, and a second try on Wednesday morning went much better despite having been run in a gale.

Because I ran the Tuesday track workout on Wednesday, I pushed the Friday tempo workout back to Saturday, which ended up being a ridiculously windy day.  My tempo was a slightly slower than I would have liked, but I'm fairly certain that the wind was costing me at least a second or two each lap.

I'm now in my last week of taper before Boston.  I've learned over my last three marathons that I do better when I do a bit more running (and definitely longer workouts) pre-race than I used to do.  When I do too little, I show up at the start line very fresh but unable to manage my legs enough to run to their potential.  Coming in with a slight bit of fatigue and some recent fast running seems to hit the right balance of rest versus neurological coordination for my best race.  So hitting that balance is the theme for the upcoming week.

Monday: 9 "miles" pool-running and streaming yoga.  Foam rolling in evening.

Tuesday: 10 miles with some random strides.  Sports massage in evening. 

 

Wednesday: 10 miles, including a track workout of 2K, 3x1200, 2x200 in 9:24, 5:23, 5:18, 5:16, 52, and 52 (2:2x-2:3x recovery between each). Foam rolling in evening.

Thursday: 6.5 miles very easy (10:10) on trails plus some leg strengthwork; streaming Pilates and foam rolling in evening.

Friday: Upper body weights/core and 9 miles very easy (9:15) plus drills and strides.  Foam rolling in evening.

Saturday: 9.5 miles including a 6400m track tempo in 28:20 (7:16/7:07/7:04/6:54) followed by leg strengthwork. Foam rolling in evening.

Sunday:  1000 yards swimming.  Foam rolling in evening.