This entry was posted on 4/17/2007 2:28 PM and is filed under uncategorized.
How do you like them apples???? 
In what can only be described at the most horrific experience of my life. I, Jacob Seilheimer, completed the Boston Marathon...
DEAD LAST.
And I'm damn proud of it.
Here are a few pictures from yesterday...
I got down to Boston around 1:30 in the morning due to circumstances beyond my control. I got to bed at 2:30 and woke up at 5:30.
I had an elaborate plan to rest up all night. But as they say, the best laid plans of mice and men...
So it ended up being a mad scramble to make it to Hopkinton when I was supposed to. This is me on the bus being transported to the start of race...
It was an absolute mob scene when I got to the starting line. There were 20,000 runners there and that didn't even include all the volunteers and spectators. We were engulfed inside a monsoon-type weather system (so much so that 2,500 runners didn't even show up to pick up their numbers to race).
It was pretty awe-inspiring.
The race organizers set up fencing on both sides of the street to direct the runners. I kept to the side as they let a few groupings of several thousands of runners pass. I'm going on the record as saying that I've never been visually-assaulted as much I was during the time period.
And it was
not all in my head.
I got a few dozens NASTY looks from other runners. Some snickers. Some laughs. blah. blah. blah.
It's been awhile since I've felt that uncomfortable.
However, there were quite a few runners that won't out of there way to tell me congrats on making this far and good luck...
So after all the registered runners took off, I made my way across the starting line. The crowds on both sides were cheering like crazy. It was an amazing moment.
I set off on a blistering pace. Better than I expected. I was cooking at roughly 12-minute miles for the first 10 miles.
They had water stations manned by some incredible volunteers at every mile along the race. I timed it just perfectly that as I approached the water stations for the first 10 miles, they were in the process of breaking all the tables down.
I know it was just poor timing on my part but it felt like a cruel joke.
And not to worry for all those people who b*tched about me "stealing
funds" from the race -- my friends got me drinks from the store along
the way and I treated my own medical conditions. Go whine elsewhere.
Like candy just out of the reach of a baby...
I very sparringly ran during the past 3 months in an effort to save my joints from the pounding on the pavement. And in the end, it was my downfall.
I started to hit a wall around mile 11. It was actually closer to a mountain. Cardio wasn't an issue at all. It was joints, all the time.
So my pace of 5 minutes running - 1 minute walking soon gave way to more of a 50/50 ratio.
This is me taking a much needed phone break during my minute off... just before I fell off a cliff. At this point, I was half-joking and half-kidding about wanting to flag down a cab (but I was 100% serious about getting a few cab numbers for later on -- which I tried to use later to no avail).
And the run goes on...
I missed all the crowds...
I missed the Wellesley girls...
I missed BC and Beacon Street...
Fighting off the pain...
Wishful thinking...
As we approached Commonwealth Ave. - I knew we were down the homestretch. Unfortunately (as my friends would inform me when they were well out of swinging distance after the race), we took a wrong turn at one point because the race had been done for so long that there weren't any markers left to mark the course.
Apparently my little "detour" tacked on another 3/4 of a mile. And at this point, my friends were clearly lying to me about how much longer I had to go. They told me about 2 miles left. In reality, it was 3 and some change.
At the time, it was so devastating. I was absolutely heart-broken.
I knew I couldn't quit at that point but I can't even describe to you in words what I felt at the moment. It was a sense of helplessness.
There were many times during the last 3 miles when I was out on my feet. My body had given out but I just wanted the damn thing to be over.
I'm not ashamed to admit I had tears in my eyes more than once.
It was a battle to be sure.
I took the left onto Boylston Street and could see the "Boston Marathon" banner that signified the finish line. I took off down the sidewalk and darted between the people coming and going from the bars.
The last 20 yards were blocked off so I actually got to run down the middle of the street as I crossed the finish line at 8:30pm.
A cool 9 hours and 40 minutes after I started...
Boston Marathon... check.
I'm pretty sure that by the time I finished, the Kenyans were already back in Africa celebrating.
I'd also like to congratulate the 122-year old guy who passed me around mile 13. I have no idea if he finished but as he passed me -- he took with him any and all self-respect that I may have had.
Everybody was out there for a reason. My story was just one of many. Thank you for letting me share it with you...
Time to rest...
Thank you for your support all along the way. It got me over so many bumps along the way. This has been a life-altering experience in very real terms.
I'm still in recovery mode today but I've got a little surprise for Thursday...
I'll keep you posted.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Rest.
Now I do the 10km within 45 minutes without a break 
