Driving yesterday, this is the license plate I see in the lane next to me. Hope 4 Love. My Aunt is Hope; she passed away two years ago today after a long battle with multiple myeloma. Spotting this surely can't be incidental. It's like her saying hi, checking in, reminding me of her large heart. Not that I really need a reminder of all the love and support she provided me. In college, I would take trips to her house in East Providence, Rhode Island during my breaks. My cousins were all young then and it would be a rare day that I would rise before they returned from school. They tease me mercilessly about it to this day. It was a home filled with love, a love that Hope created and nurtured. I have so many wonderful memories from those days and some all the subsequent visits over the years. My aunt, my Rhode Island family, have been so supportive of me over the years. It was not limited to my youth or my college days, but remains as I've grown up, as I've raised my own family, as I've become a runner. Running Boston is that family reunion each year. Hope will always be one of my most enthusiastic spectators on course. She was last out there physically at mile 22 in 2014, which remains my favorite Boston and my favorite race ever. She will be there every year as I pass by the mile 16 Providence sign and every year as I pass through Cleveland Circle, every year as I have my pre-race meal with family, and every year as we enjoy our post race celebration in the North End. Thinking about Hope and all her love, I've included my race report from Boston 2014. It's a celebration of all that she was, of her love, of her resiliency. Hope 4 Love.
A 4 Hour Celebration: Boston Marathon 4/21/2014
Boston
2014 was never a goal race. I was returning for what is therapeutically known
as a corrective emotional experience. Basically you redo something, seeking a
different, more positive, outcome. Boston 2013 was my first Boston Marathon; it
lived up to everything I had heard about. It was a hard fought PR surrounded by
the energy that is Boston and its spectators. It was everything I had wanted
from the experience until it wasn't. Something was lost that day, something I
was returning to reclaim. My goal was simple: finish the race.
From the
start, my Boston marathon experience was about time with family, friends, and
kind strangers. My husband and I arrived in Boston midday Friday after a red
eye flight. We checked into our hotel, grabbed some lunch, then headed to the
expo. We joined up with Boylston St just past the finish line, at the Old South
Church. As we crossed the street, a stranger asked me if I was running the race
this year. When I said I was, he offered my choice of several blue and yellow
scarves he had around his neck. I chose one, thanking him, asking if a donation
would be appreciated… he declined. It was one of
many gifts I would receive over my trip and one that I will cherish. Knitters
from around the country came together as a project for the Old South Church,
making thousands of blue and yellow scarves for the 2014 marathoners to
commemorate the events of last year. Mine was made by Linda from Ohio. I wore
it with pride my whole trip and was moved walking around town seeing hundreds
of other marathoners each with their unique scarves. It makes me emotional
thinking about it still; there was so much more love that came out of that day
than the hatred of a few could steal.
The expo
was crowded and bustling; I grabbed my bib and gear then briefly explored the
unique Boston items before picking up a few. We enjoyed dinner that night with Jen, her husband, and son and
another two of her friends – protein loading Brazilian
Steakhouse style! Saturday was equally busy with my husband running the 5K and
spectating the 5K (13:26 course record!!), followed by the middle school, high
school, and elite milers. The morning was completed by listening to five prior
Boston Marathon champions, after viewing the “Dear
Boston” exhibit at the Boston Public
Library. The Library is located at the finish line with the exhibit showcasing
just a small fraction of the items collected at the memorial following last
year’s marathon. This evoked the
emotions I felt for weeks and months after the race last year, but also offered
hope. One section entitled, “We Choose Love” echoed what I had thought about the prior week 4/15/14
when I posted on FB, “I choose love, I choose joy, I
choose happiness. I choose to return to celebrate with gratitude.”
Saturday
continued with a Red Sox game with my cousin (including a HR by Big Papi and a
Sox win), then a stroll to the North End. We met up with my friend Glenn and
his cousins and had a fantastic meal with the largest amount of lobsta you have
ever seen in a risotto. Glenn and I had met in Boston at a RW shake-out run
last year and have maintained text and email contact fairly regularly over the
past year; it has helped in the healing process. Sunday I enjoyed a run along
the Charles with Glenn before Easter brunch with my stepmom and her friend and
family, including her granddaughter running her first Boston. After some
shopping Sunday afternoon, we headed out to Framingham. Just like last year, my
cousin was gracious enough to host us (along with aunts, uncles, and other
cousins) and prepare a pre-race meal I could manage; always much appreciated!
I had no
agenda for the race and no rules for the race ahead. I am easily the most
competitive person I know, so that is an odd statement for me to make. Who
doesn't plan to race Boston? I figured long ago that whatever I needed from
race day emotionally would not be conducive with any ambitious time goals. This
was coupled with a tight racing schedule (50 miler 2 weeks prior, 100K 2 weeks
later), with the 100K trail race being my goal race of the spring. Boston
necessarily became my final training run for Miwok.
Pre race,
I solidified plans to run with Glenn; he had had a less than ideal training
cycle and was aiming for around 4 hours. I had given my family time frames when
I would pass by their viewing spots, advising them I'd be running around a
8:45-9 minute pace per mile. The morning of the race, I donned my stylish zebra
print Walmart sweatsuit over my blue 2013 Boston tank and neon yellow shorts and
was off to meet Jen across from
the Boston Common. Right before she arrived, I randomly ran into my friend
Leonel (who I had met at a WS training run earlier in the year) and wished him
well (he missed his goal time, but still rocked a sub 3 and the negative
split!). The bus loading was incredibly organized and soon Jen and I were on our way to Hopkinton.
The
Athletes' Village was active with runners in all manner of bad thrift store
garb. We staked out a spot in the shot put area of the high school field. A
quick porta potty stop was followed by having my picture at the "It all
starts in Hopkinton" sign. The AV started to get significantly more
crowded, but Glenn was able to find me and joined us. I noticed more security
from the start, every manner of police and military being present, with folks
on top of the school buildings and a tank tucked behind a section of porta
potties. The new normal? I was upset about this, yet also understanding… a no win situation for the BAA, really. I became a bit
emotional with a moment of silence for last year’s
victims. It was becoming clear that we would not be able to stroll down to the
start line on our own time line (as had been the case last year). We hit the
porta potties again, this time taking just under an hour. Wave 1 was already
gone from the village, and the early corrals of wave 2 were being staged when
the race officially started. Wave 2 would start at 10:25. Eventually they
called for corrals 7-9 and I sadly donated my zebra print ensemble before being
directed towards Grove St. Jen
and I walked down to the start (Glenn had gone ahead as he was corral 6). The
time was getting pretty tight… I started to doubt we would
make it to the start on time! I ended up running into the corral and squeezed
my way towards the front (the plan was Glenn would be at the back of corral 6
and I would be at the start of 7 and we would meet up on the right side of the
road after a bit). I managed a couple of pics and my corral selfie before the
official race started for us… it was way more hectic than I
would have cared for!
I crossed
the start line right around 10:30 am… My Garmin was still locating
satellites and didn’t kick in right away, even
though I had the time running. The first mile was crowded on the course,
similar to last year, but at least I wasn’t weaving and bobbing. Instead
my attention was on the spectators and the crowds – yep, already, way more visible than last year. I ran that
first mile a tad (okay, much) faster than I had anticipated – I was excited, full of energy, and had to catch Glenn!
8:04 – whoops! I did meet up with
Glenn just after the first mile, then Jen
caught up to us (she had detoured for a pit stop just before the corral
loading). She forged ahead with a 3:40 goal time. Those first few miles were
faster than planned, but I did reign it in more by the 10K mark. From mile 1
on, I noticed it was warm (I didn’t feel that way until 6 miles
in last year)… not a good sign. But my focus
was on things other than time, thankfully. Throughout the race, I took a lot of
pictures and selfies, wanting to capture the experience, being sure to catch
all the town signs as we ran by.
Miles
1-5: 8:34 (actual 8:04), 8:20, 8:30, 8:37, 8:42
(5K 26:03)
Miles
6-10: 8:41, 8:41, 8:50, 8:42, 8:52 (10K 53:14, 15K 1:20:38)
The crowds were spectacular! I was overwhelmed by the number of
people on course last year and this was surpassing that by thousands upon
thousands. I loved seeing all the parties in front lawns and along the main
streets of the towns. Families were out, college kids were everywhere. Kids
offered all manner of refreshments, as well as their hands for slaps and high
fives. I’m sure my hand would have been a petri dish disaster if swabbed post
race, but who cared? It was a celebration and time to slap away while running
down the street! I took in a Twizzler at mile 7; not bad, though not my usual
marathon fare. I danced on the course: YMCA and then shaking my tail feathers
to Move It Move It – Boston is a dance party, right? Everyone was so gracious –
they were thanking us, the runners, for running, for returning. No – thank you
for having us! Just after mile 12, we ran by the Hoyts… amazing was everywhere!
Then it was time to get ready! The Wellesley Scream Tunnel was
ahead! They had made me a sign (“Kiss and Run, Special K!”), so I had to keep
my eyes out for it, while trying to grab more kisses than last year (3), and
getting a selfie with a kiss (requested by DH)… a lot of work to do! I warned
Glenn I would catch up after the mile, if needed, as I might slow down. I still
charged full speed ahead and did manage a 9 minute mile – quite impressive
given at least 7 kisses (I lost count, so it might have been 8), with one
selfie with a kiss (that is really hard to do!). I had to kiss the girl from
Rhode Island (my birthplace)! Life is good. The half marathon point was just
after the Scream Tunnel: 1:54:40 – not bad, about where I should be given the
harder back half. Mile 14 did see a porta potty stop and a quick medical grab
for Vaseline (yeah, it was too hot!). Then the hills started.
Miles 11-15: 8:56, 8:48, 9:01, 9:07, 9:14 (20K 1:48:25, 25k 2:16:54)
I didn’t care much for the hills last year; I just didn’t care
this year. They were just part of the journey, no longer an obstacle to the journey.
I captured the sign to Providence just after 16. Shortly thereafter, I started
to scan the right side of the road – my spectators would be near 17! I spotted
my husband (that 5K bright yellow BAA shirt is easy to spot!!) and crew. I went
up to them, gave hugs to my husband, 3 of my cousins, and my stepmom. Those few
extra seconds in the race might well be worth it – I might just have to try
that again even when I am vying for time! (I have since been teased that that
might have cost me 9 seconds – see my finishing time!) I am so appreciative of
their support – coming out and traveling and fighting the crowds to cheer me
on. Moving down the road, an ice stop at mile 18 was much appreciated – yes, it
was really, really getting warm and I was parched despite fluids at every mile,
salt and electrolyte tabs, and power gel blasts. Then I had a half a strawberry
Otter pop, with a lime one a mile or two later; pretty tasty! Glenn had warned
me he would be taking his time on the hills, so we slowed down a tad. Just
before Heartbreak Hill, I hit the porta potty again. Then I saw a beer sign!
Okay, so I don’t drink beer… in fact, I rather loath beer. I am the epitome of
a wine snob, so even crap wine won’t suffice. But, I did think, this might just
be the race to try it out… Someone had offered beer (along with cigarettes) at
mile 6, which I thought was a bit too early to test the waters of new marathon
fuel. But mile 20? The timing is just about right! I grabbed and downed my beer
(likely just a few ounces); it was surprisingly refreshing and helped me up the
hill!
Miles 16-20: 8:48, 9:34, 9:48, 9:34, 10:00 (30K 2:46:46, 20
miles 3:00:03)
Cresting the hill, we hit Boston College. I don’t think the kids
there were quite as intoxicated as they had been last year (even though I had
given them an extra half hour of drinking time this year), but they were still
partying. I turned into a bit of an energizer bunny during this mile as I
started to slap the outstretched hands of the BC kids. Once you slapped a
couple of their hands, the kids on the barricades just past them would stretch
out their hands too… and on, and on, and on…. So, it was nearly a full mile of
hand slapping, weaving and bobbing along with the contours of the road, in
between the police and the crowds. My hand was pretty sore after that – but
what a joyous mile! Last year, I faded horribly after BC, struggling from miles
22-25 of the course, feeling like I was in the midst of a death march. This was
quite the opposite; I still had bounds of energy and could just enjoy the
miles. Glenn was fading, so I would periodically slow down or walk, wanting to
finish the race that we started together. I did my best to get the crowds
going: raising my hands in the air and raising the ceiling – which would lead
to roaring on both sides of the street. It was fantastic! This is celebration!
And quite the arm workout! I spotted my aunt and uncle right around mile 22.5
after Cleveland Circle, giving them both hugs before continuing on down the
road. Just after mile 23, I spotted Jen
ahead of me. I caught up to her a bit later, not wanting to get too far ahead
of Glenn. She was suffering from the heat; I did my best to try to encourage
her and tried to get her to run in with us.
Miles 21-26.41: 10:15, 9:10, 9:43, 9:47, 9:33, 8:54, 9:07 (35K
3:17:31, 40K 3:47:46)
We were approaching the Citco sign and moved from Brookline into
the final of the 8 cities on our journey: Boston. As we approached Kenmore
Square, I started the hunt to find my family. I had trouble spotting them at
this spot last year as it was so crowded. The crowds were wicked thick this
year – okay, this might be a challenge!! I passed the turn off to Fenway,
passed the Kenmore station, but couldn’t find them. I realize they might not
have made it back from mile 17 due to the crowds. Finally! I spotted them near
25.4 miles. I gave a wave this time; yes, I should have given more hugs – but I
was a horribly sweaty mess by then and had a destination less than a mile ahead
in my mind. Thanks to my husband, stepmom, uncle, and cousins for popping up!
I realized in searching for my family, I had lost Glenn. I ran
down under Mass Ave and stopped in the shade, looking back to see if I could
spot him. I waited there briefly, before forging on when I couldn’t pick him
out. It was time to finish the race. You have to run down the street from here
– right on Hereford, left on Boylston! I was giddy heading up Hereford. Then as
I turned on to Boylston, I flashed the smile I had been showing all day (there
were cameras here!), but my heart sank for a moment. Last year, the crowds on
the right side of the road on Boylston were 10-12 deep in front of Hynes
Convention Center – that was one of the things that propelled me to my fastest
mile in 2013. But the people were only 2-3 deep… what had happened? Were people
scared? Did we let the terrorists win? I wouldn’t know until later that Boylston
was being heavily regulated in terms of traffic, that the crowd limitations
were externally imposed, not driven by the spectators themselves. On the left
side of the road though, the crowds were thick and loud, including the sites of
the bombings. I took in that magical stretch of road, where the Finish Line is
visible what seems like forever away, and I ran it home. What an experience! The
experience of a lifetime from last year was taken away, but it was replaced
with this new one. It was replaced with the best race I could ever dream of.
Some days you run for time, but on 4/21/14, I just ran for love.
Final time: 4:00:09 (9:10 pace)
#1246 F 40-44, #6942 F, #18128 OA.
Post race, I did finally see Glenn after the finish line. He
wasn’t faring well and I stayed with him while medical personnel talked to him.
After a bit, and getting dizzy myself, Glenn urged me to go on to get warmed
up. I felt better when I knew he made it back to his hotel without a medical
tent detour. I celebrated with my family that night – the party of 12 in the
North End replaced the room service for 9 from last year. I stayed in Boston
for a couple more days after the race, enjoying more time with family, friends,
as well as shopping, museum/ sight seeing, runs along the Charles, and way too
many cannolis.
I had
anticipated a 4 hour cry fest over the course of those 26.2 miles. Instead, I
had a 4 hour celebration: a celebration of joy, of happiness, of love, of
running, of community. I was grateful to have the opportunity to return and run
Boston. I am filled with gratitude for the experience, filled with love for the
city and its spectators, filled with joy for what was reclaimed on April 21,
2014. It was an amazing race, the experience of a lifetime. I will return to
celebrate again in 2015 and in subsequent years as long as my legs can run fast
enough and as long as my gracious host Boston will have me.
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