The Fly in the Window

This was my fourth Olympic marathon trials that I have participated in since 1996. During the 1996 and 2000 trials I coached or assisted training an elite runner during the women’s trials. Later in 2000 I was a coordinator for the men’s Olympic marathon trials in Pittsburgh. This was the first marathon trials that I attended without the pressure of an athlete’s performance or the logistics of the trials. In previous women’s trials I had spent the time running from point to point on the course giving instructions and encouragement to the athlete. During the men’s trials I spent time catering to the needs of the elites and filling any gaps that were missed by other volunteers. In 2006 and 2007 I ran back to back Boston Marathons. It felt unusual to be a passenger during this year’s event rather than the driver. I felt like a fly in the window watching the race unfold in front of my eyes.

Focusing on the elites for years I may have missed one very important part of the race, the spectators. The families, friends and other athletic junkies like me are a loose nit network of support groups throughout the race. These family members, parents, spouses, children, and friends are placed on the backburner as the athlete spends years preparing for the race. The hours spent every day putting in the long miles, weight lifting, and then qualifying for a chance to represent your country in the Olympics. Distractions and setbacks that an athlete has to contend with on a weekly basis are always prevalent. The sickness, injuries, and family complications are as much a part of the athlete’s program as the training and racing routine.

Now I was standing at the start of the 2008 Women’s Trials watching and listening, “One minute to the start” came from the loudspeaker behind the crowd. Suddenly the gun fired and the 150 elite women began their trek toward Beijing, China. The course was a 4X6 mile loop with a 2.2 loop thrown in at the beginning of the race. The trials of Boston was off and running along with thousands of spectators.

Magdalena Lewy Boulet sprinted out ahead creating a large gap early. I thought to myself either she will fade or she’s destroying the lead pack early by making it a race of pursuit rather than a strategic race. Since the race crossed the Massachusetts Avenue Bridge numerous times I walked over the bridge to watch as the race unfolded. A former women’s trials qualifier Julie, daughter Andrea, and a former teammate Dave escorted me to the bridge. I had a copy of Runner’s World top picks to win, place or show in my pocket as a race day reference and wasn’t disappointed by their predictions.

I watched the race and noticed their friends and family carrying signs, chanting, and ringing cowbells as the athletes ran passed my location. A sign with Dunkin Doughnuts and two coffee cups held up by her supporters read “Cook powered by Dunkin Doughnuts”. Another group of runners had red letters painted on their bare chests that read Joanie. Other friends and family chanted in unison as their favorite athlete came into view and then faded away on the bridge. The enthusiastic crowds cheered everyone as if they were all in contention to qualify for Beijing, China. The last athlete was given a tremendous ovation as she passed the crowds knowing that she still had another loop to run just as the top finishers were coming into view of the finish line.

Deena Kastor the Olympic medalist and favorite ran past me and the crowd on her way toward winning the trials followed by Magdalena Lewy Boulet. Although Magdalena finished second she ran a valiant and courageous race leading the race for twenty three miles before Deena could her down. It was redemption for Blake Russell from her disappointing fourth place finish in the 2004 trials. She ran a brilliant race and finished third and completed the USA Women’s Olympic Marathon Team.

Actually being an observer at the 2008 Women’s Marathon Trials was fun. There was no pressure for an athlete’s performance. Catering to the elites needs although rewarding is also demanding and you miss an important part of the race. Being a spectator has its own privileges and rewards. In the end I found that the intensity and passion of friends and family along the course in Boston was just as important as the race itself. Being a fly in the window taught me a thing or two on being a true race spectator.