The short answer is Yes, and I’ve got the papers to prove it.

Boston Marathon 2024, you were a challenge. My disciplined training with long ascents and descents in the Aiea hills and long unshaded stretches of Hawaii Kai under the Hawaii sun were no match for your conditions on April 15.

At the Start: 61 degrees at the Athlete’s Village in Hopkinton and those who wore something to keep the chill off before the start were quickly removing that layer. Like a squirrel preparing for winter, I had packets of Maurten Hydrogel Sport Fuel, my favorite for long runs, tucked into every pocket. Volunteers were manning huge pump-style vats of sunsecreen near the Start. Smart and thoughtful of the race, since there is minimal shade along the 26-mile route.

Mile 1: Sweat already rolling down the back of my neck at the first mile marker. I always start this course conservatively knowing what these first delightful mostly downhill miles can do to your quads when you will need them for the Newton Hills. around Miles 15-20.

I usually bypass the first water station. Not in this case. The sun is getting warmer and the temperature will rise to 73 degrees long before I finish.

Mile 5: Still staying around my planned 10:35 pace, I began to feel a mild burn in my quads. What is this? This is a sensation more familiar around Mile 21. Didn’t I train to avoid this? I slow my pace even further hoping I can pick it up again later.

Mile 9: I begin throwing in some walk breaks, stopping at every water stop, one cup for my mouth, the other over my head or down my back.

Mile 12: I had avoided the Gatorade tables to this point, knowing from experience it doesn’t settle well with me when running. But the Gatorade siren song called me at this point, as I felt I needed something to supplement the Maurten. I broke from that runner’s rule of “don’t use or wear anything you didn’t use in training runs.” Have I learned nothing? Mile 12 was my first and last sip of Gatorade.

Mile 15 or thereabouts: I hear, then see my goddaughter, Jessie and her family among the spectators, cheering all of us on. I’m walking at this point and don’t have the heart to even pretend to be running as I wave and pass by them.

Mile 19 or thereabouts: A spectator was handing out orange slices. Cool, juicy orange slices. Again, I broke the runner rule of what you ate or drank on training runs. This time, the result was fantastic. I felt a jolt of energy through my body. I was almost instantly moving out of my forced march walk and into a running stride. (Note to self: on next long training run, place a clementine or other non-juicy citrus into my fanny pack and see if I get same result).

Mile 22/23: Just after rounding the turn at Cleveland Circle, for no particular reason, I tripped. Two runners grabbed under my arms and lifted me back on my feet. Whoever you were out there, if you are reading this – thank you. It was a tough time in the race for runners to break stride to help another runner.

I knew my knee was bleeding, but I didn’t dare look down. If I hadn’t started running immediately, my knee would have tightened up. I could see the blood dripping off my hand but knew it was superficial, so on I went, chugging along, leaving dots of blood on the marathon course.

On reflection, I also took a tumble during my previous marathon, got up and pushed on. In both marathons, I had just turned a corner and began on a straightaway. In both cases it was around mile 22/23. Something to watch for if/when I do the next marathon.

As I jogged through the final two miles, I was thinking that it was enjoyable to walk more of the course. I left behind the tunnel vision and took in more of my surrounding and the wonderful spectators along the way.

The Finish: Crossing the finish line felt great. No, it wasn’t the 4:40 I had trained for, but 5:20 is what it was and is. I slogged through the finish area, thanking volunteers as they handed off finisher medal, water, banana, bag of other stuff.

Medical Tent: My first trip to a medical tent in the dozens of marathons I’ve done. They cleaned and bandaged up my hands and knees and quickly disposed of me. I was feeling fortunate not to be one of the runners receiving more advanced types of care and made my exit as expeditiously as my tired body would carry me.

The Results E-mail: After an invigorating shower, I looked amongst congratulatory emails and texts from friends and family and saw this one from the BAA:

What? It couldn’t be. But it was. The message went on to say I could pick up said award between 3 p.m. and 6 p.m. It also said if it was not picked up, it would be mailed in the coming months.

It was now 5:55 and it was hope against hope the staff would still be there. I quickly threw on the first shirt and shorts in my bag and, uncombed and wet hair and all, made my way to the specified room in the Copley Hotel, of course first walking in the wrong direction before realizing my error.

I found the door locked, then saw the knob turn and a lovely voice say “We’re still here.” After ensuring I was the person behind that 5:20 finish (no doubt I looked the part), they asked if I would like a photo. I stifled a laugh and my first unspoken reaction was “Are you kidding?” My hair was still wet and I’m not sure I even knew exactly what I was wearing. Then thinking “This is so surreal. Yes, there has to be a photo.”

Two Conclusions for my surreal Boston 2024:

First yes, it is possible to have a disappointing time and yet have a surprising place in your age group. The women in the F75-79 age group who run Boston are fast and talented and give me a reason to continue to train well. My place on this day was likely a case of a lot of runners in my age group having a bad day, and my day was one of the least bad. The least, least bad day was Gayle Robinson who placed first in my age group at 5:02, earning her a shout-out in the online newsletter, Canadian Running. Congratulations, Gayle!

Second, no, I don’t have this nourishment thing down yet. Even though my training told me I had it figured out, I haven’t yet succeeded in adequately giving my body what it needs during a marathon. Education still in progress.

Now, a list of weepy thanks:

Kudos to all the fantastic runners out there, many of them my friends, who were not fazed by the heat or any other conditions and soared to their finishes.

Thanks to the Boston Athletic Association and your many volunteers for a great but grueling race, the most difficult of the nine Bostons I’ve run (and yes, that does include 2018).

Most thanks to Jessie and family along the course, and running friend Marni calling to me near the finish line from her post at Marathon Sports. I appreciate so much the friends and family who tracked from afar my progress (and sometimes lack thereof) and sent messages along the way.

I’m not yet ready to say “Let’s do this again next year.” But, maybe. Who knows?

Who has a great Boston 2024 story to share? How was your Boston experience, as a runner, volunteer, spectator or tracker?