BOSTON 2014 - I BELIEVED by Ben-Zion Caspi

A few nice small cars for girls images I found:

BOSTON 2014 – I BELIEVED by Ben-Zion Caspi


Image by ianhun2009
The following article is an inspirational first-person Boston Marathon race report by Ottawa runner Ben-Zion Caspi, 65. It was written for the TriRudy blog, and is reproduced here with permission by the author.

According to Ben, "Usually running a race is all about how fast you can run it. In Boston 2014, timing was NOT the essence. After having a knee surgery on March 7th, six weeks before the race, all I hoped was to be able to be on the start line and somehow get to the finish line. Running, jogging, walking and crawling were in the plan.

I believed and it happened. Determination, spirit and mind took over and forced the body to perform way beyond what it was ready for. "

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Ben-Zion Caspi’s race report (April 25, 2014)

Harvey, Jennifer Morse and I decided to run Boston 2014 on October 2012, qualifying in Chicago.

It was before the sad event later in the 2013 spring, the bombing in the Boston finish line.

This event just made us willing more than before to participate in the 2014 race, to declare that terror will NOT affect how we live out life.

Experience runners know that you have to respect the marathon distance. We also know that following a schedule while training, is the smart thing to do. We also know that if you manage to run about 80% of your scheduled runs you can have a decent race. We also know that if you do speed work, tempo and interval runs, you can have a fast race.

Well, I knew all of the above, but was not able to follow.

Started in the fall, I was suffering from pain in my right knee.

My training schedule started on January 2014. I was able to run through the pain but was not sure I will be able to finish 42.2 km.

An MRI on the knee discovered few tears in the meniscus of my right knee.

A surgery was in order and on March 7th I had four holes in my knee and the whole area was swollen like a soccer ball.

I have to thank BIG to Diane Robertson, who was with me all along, advised me about my knee and was kind enough to drive me for the operation, taking place in Kemptville.

My surgeon, Dr. Dervin OK’ed me to run on our post surgery appointment, March 19. We both believed that I have a fit enough body to recover and run the Boston in four weeks.

Well I was too greedy and ran hard and long too early. March 30th the scheduled run was 36km. I ran part of it with our group and cut it short with Colleen Crane, also injured, hoping to start in Boston, to 26 km. This run took me a-back. My knee got very swollen and an old injury on my right left foot flared up.

My next run was with ‘Team Invalid’ in the pool. Jim Carter, Jennifer Morse and I were all unable to run, and comfort each other running in water. We were all scheduled to run Boston. At that time Jim new he will not. Jennifer and I still believed.

On April 4th I was still not able to put weight on either side. My right knee was giving me hard time and my left foot was even worst. I had to admit to myself and to the world that it is possible that Boston 2014 in not going to happen for me. If you cannot walk three weeks before a marathon and you missed a lot of your training, showing up on the start line of a marathon does not show the respect we should have for the distance.

The pain slowly subsided and on April 13, a week before the race, I managed to run 18 km very slow, but without pain. On that day I decided that I have to believe that I WILL do it.

Mark Sutcliffe, who found my struggle interesting talked to me about it on his show on April 16th. It was aired on his TSN 1200 radio show I-Run.

Michelle Power, Rene and I were in the car on our way to Boston on Saturday, April 19th listening to that interview. It sure lifted my spirit. At that time I believed fully that I will get to the finish line on Monday.

The trip to Boston was uneventful. A bit less than eight hours and we arrived to our hotel.

First thing in order, after checking in at the hotel, was to walk to the Expo, get our race kit and buy the flashy screaming orange Boston jacket. Yes, the worth jacket which they charge 5CND for in the Boston Expo. At least we did not have to wait hours to get our bibs and pay for whatever we bought. Somehow we arrived in a lull time at the Expo.

Ottawa had a giant representation in Boston 2014. I was part of what is fondly known now as Alastair’s group, running most of our runs from the Bank Running Room in Ottawa.

It was a big group to do things together but John Gelder, Colleen Crane, Diane Robertson and of course Alastair, rose to the challenge and helped organizing dinners, runs and fun.

Saturday morning, getting up early, Michelle and I stepped out of our room for the pre marathon run.

We took cameras and played running tourist along the Boston marathon route.

The city was getting ready for the race. Lots of sighs all over: Boston Strong, flags, security people, policemen.

It was kind of eerie to see the finish line, the empty benches. It was also very touchy for Michelle who was right there a year earlier getting to the finish line before the bombing, knowing that her sister Jenelle, with Michelle’s two sons are somewhere in the finish line.

We had breakfast with Harvey and Jennifer Eberman later in their hotel and then visited the Expo for the 2nd time.

Michelle and I relaxed a bit at the hotel’s pool. I swam few laps, trying most of the time to avoid the many kids who had fun in the pool.

We had dinner on Sunday with a smaller group and were in our room getting ready with whatever needed for Monday’s race.

Michelle had a panic attack, realizing that her nutrition for the race is not in Boston. It was left behind in Ottawa. Imagine that. Our great group came to the rescue and Diane took the elevator from her room in the 19th floor to our room on the 31st. This trip is really something. To get to the rooms above the 27th floor there are few special elevators and if you want to get from any floor under the 28th floor you have to get first to the lobby. More on those elevators later.

When Diane arrived to our room, she had enough gels to get Michelle to the finish line.

Sleeping the night before a big race is always iffy. We were up early, but that was OK.

I had my regular ritual before the race, breakfast and all. It is always cereal, orange juice, coffee and a cookie and there we were heading to the yellow busses. But there was another hurdle. Waiting for the elevator was long and futile. Remember we were on the 31th floor. We did not care for walking down that many floors before a marathon. The minutes passed and no elevator. Believe it or not, the hotel security guard, who was passing by, saw us twice and took us down in the service elevator. Imagine that.

I had a date with Claire, Iron Lady friend from Ottawa at 7:15 to take the bus to the start together. We met right on time. It was a cold morning but the forecast was not that promising. I like to run my marathons in 3-7 Celsius. Unfortunately it was going to be 16, sunny day when we are out there running.

Remember the winter we had in Canada? No one in Ottawa was ready for a long run in the heat. We did most of our runs in sub zero temperature, unless you ran on the treadmill. Imagine that, long runs going fast nowhere on a treadmill. No thanks.

We arrived in Hopkinton an hour later, still had over 90 minutes wait for me and Claire who were to start in Wave 2 at 10:25. Michelle was to start at 35 minutes later at wave 3. More about it later.

Two waits for the Porta Potty took most of that time. On the wait the second time I took off my throw away cloths, put sun screen all over and there I was ready for the race.

I left Michelle and started my march toward the corral. There were 9,000 runners on wave two and being in corral 8, I was behind.

Wave two started at 10:25. By the time I cross the start mat, it was 10:38.

My race plan was simple. Run slow the first 10 km, hope that right knee and left foot behave and nothing flares up and decide every 5 km after what pace to run.

I usually start my marathon races in 5 minutes per km, trying to get to the half point in 105 minutes. This time it should be 120 minutes.

Running felt good. Being surrounded by thousands of fit beautiful men and women, refusing any terrorist act to affect them, made the run so much more significant.

I spent more than half my life, doing the day to day things under enduring terror threat and never let it have any effect on my life. I sure did not intend to change now, and the thousands of Boston 2014 runners sure felt the same.

Was I ever relieved passing Ashland and Framingham towns, concluding the start of the race, which is mostly downhill. My knee on my runs after the surgery hurt more while running downhill. That was a good sign.

I had no doubt the moment I stood on the start line that I would get to the finish. I was not sure how long will it take and what kind of moving forward will it be. Running, jogging, strolling, crawling were all in the cards.

I kept running in an OK pace, trying to adjust it when I ran too fast.

High-fiving many kids along the course. There were hundreds of thousands of people cheering on the runners, offering drinks, oranges, bananas, and other goodies.

I had all the nutrition I needed on me, in two 10 ounces bottle, hummer gel mixed with water.

Planning my race, I wanted to have one PB (personal best) in Boston 2014. We all know you do not get the medal unless you kiss at least one of the famous Wellesley girls, cheering at almost half point of the race.

The last time I ran Boston in 2010, I had a very good race, and I did stop to give a kiss to three of the cheering screaming girls.

This time, this record was broken big time. I was whistling my strong whistle that some of you know of, and stopped five time for a kiss. It was hilarious. I think the young ladies take count and declare a winner at the end of the race, who got kissed to most. I wanted to support as many of them as I could in that race.

About five km later I felt a swift movement and got a half hug by who else but Michelle. She started if you remember at wave three corral one and it took her less than two hours to catch up with me.

I was very happy for her, she was running strong on her way to a fast finish.

I kept running in my modest pace watching more and more runners of wave three passing me. I did care one bit. I was still running without any major pain so I was happy, hoping it to last all the way to the finish line.

Yeh, right . What a wishful thinking was that.

At 35 km, three and a half hours from my started (my time in my last two marathons for the whole 42.2 km) I started to fall apart.

I knew I would finish. I had enough time to crawl the last 7.2 km.

The pace on these last 7.2 km was pathetic. 7:20. No, not per mile. Every km took me seven minutes and a third.

Both my feet were hurting like hell. My glut muscles and my hip disowned my completely.

Turning left on Boylston St. I FINALLY saw the finish line. Was I ever happy.

I did not increase my pace. It was all about getting to the finish line in one piece.

4:23:15 after I started, around 3 PM I crossed the finish line. I never walked, even at the water stations!

All this time I repeated my mantra. I believe, I believe and I DID.

I forced my poor body, that was absolutely in no shape or form to run the grueling course of the Boston Marathon, to do it.

Determination, spirit and mind took over. It was purely mind over matter.

After crossing the finish line I did fall apart. The volunteers saw it right away and offered a wheelchair.

I refused. I did use one in previous Boston marathon which was worst than this one, and I did not want to sit in one at an end of a race if I can help it.

It took me 15 minutes sitting on the sidewalk curve to get back to myself. The volunteer got me a bottle of water and finally I was able to walk.

I knew I was late for a very important date.

A friend of mine, Marian Jordan who is a volunteer in the Boston Marathon for many years, giving medals to the finishers, was waiting for me.

I got to the area where the medals were given, Marian was there of course. I got the kisses and hugs she promised me and most important the Boston Marathon’s finisher medal.

This medal together with my Jerusalem Marathon medal are by far the most significant medals in my collection.

The walk to the hotel, not far by, was me, my thoughts, my tears. By the time I got to the hotel it all changed to pure joy.

I was the last of our group to get to the finish line, but I was, at least I think I was, the happiest of them all.

Wow, if you are here, thanks for reading.

Ben Caspi

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(photo of Ben Caspi by Ian Hunter, in Richmond, Ontario, January 2012)

think different


Image by ezola
K-Lo pointed me to today’s splash page on the apple website. This
seems a bit low, to align yourself with a deceased minority rights
hero. If they want to celebrate her death/celebrate her life, posting
the pic is appropriate, but not with the apple slogan across the top.
lame.

A recent blog entry got me into some trouble, so I’ve made it a
private post, and will do this for future entries that cross the
line. If you want to read these potentially offensive posts, add me
as a contact.

Shift work blues. I worked overnight last night, then had teaching
until early this afternoon, got home at two. A bigger man would have
had a coffee and stayed up, but I fell face first into my bed and
partially woke up at seven. [alliteration alert] Fully awake now,
and if I allow myself to follow fatigue, I will fall asleep at six or
seven in the morning. Alternatively I could take a sleeping pill now,
and rejoin the world not competing in the circadian special olympics
tomorrow morning. If I do that, I will lose the next six hours, and
the opportunity cost is high. I am by far my most productive after
two in the morning.

I have become aware of a tendency I have to mythologize
accompaniment. I also have a tendency to write inscrutable sentences.
The earliest example I can recall (of the former) is when a friend
was telling me about this childhood neighbor of his, this girl he
used to fight with growing up, but he always had the sense that the
fighting was driven by kiddie flirtation. He was home from college
one summer afternoon and was rummaging through the back seat of his
car in his suburban dallas driveway, when she appeared behind him. He
hadn’t seen her in a long time, and greeted her warmly. She asked
where he was going, and before he had a chance to answer, she said, I
want to come. The next example is a picture taken on September 11,
2001 of two people who leapt off the flaming world trade center,
mid-air 100 stories up, so small in the pic that you can’t tell their
gender, but you can see that they’re holding hands. I blog this
because I’m haunted by a dream I had last week after seeing les
invasions barbares . At the end of the movie an old dying guy has
himself euthanized. In the dream there’s some other old guy being
euthanized by his wife of 50 years, two faceless and formless old
folks surrounded by their family. The man had been fighting a
progressive disease and has somehow arranged for his healthy but
elderly wife to deliver the antidote, and he’s lying on a bed, she
sits beside him, they stare at each other as she gives him the
injection, the room is completely silent. His eyes are still open,
and she says, I want to come, and injects herself. That’s all I
remember.

Tags:2014, BELIEVED, BenZion, Boston, Caspi