I love the Boston Marathon. I typically run about 40 races a year. Of all the races I've run over years, Boston is my favorite by far. I ran it for the first time in 2005 -- this year was my sixth running.
Why do I like this race so much? Several reasons: First, it's the main focus of activity in Boston on race weekend. "Are you running," is the familiar question to anyone in Boston who looks anything remotely like a runner. Second, there is a wonderful sense of community in the huge crowds that line the sidewalks in the small towns along the way: Hopkinton, Ashland, Natick, Newton, and so on. It's a day for families, with the kids often handing out oranges to the runners or soliciting high fives. And, hey, it's the Boston Marathon, the gold standard of marathons in the United States and around the world.
The weather this year was refreshingly cool after the sauna that was last year's race, when starting line temperatures were in the low 70s, soaring to 87 when most of us staggered into Boston. Plus, the sun was shining most of the way. So even with the usual rigors of a marathon, this year's run was a wonderful experience. Even the Newton hills didn't seem too bad.
I crossed the finish line at 3:41:36 and made my way through the finish area with other finishers. Got my space blanket, medal, water and food, and continued down Boyleston Street to the bus with my gear. Got it quickly, and continued straight for another two blocks to my hotel. Nothing unusual. It wasn't until another 20-25 minutes that I started to hear sirens to the point that I turned on the TV set and heard the first reports of an explosion. My wife and I (she was in the grandstand across from the second explosion but after missing me finish departed about five minutes before it went off) spent the next hour or so on the phone or responding to emails assuring family, friends and work colleagues that we were OK.
What was different this year from prior runnings of Boston? For the race itself, there wasn't much different. The crowds were still as invigorating as ever, the race took place with the usual great organization and planning, there was still the same elation making the last turn onto Boyleston Street and pounding with everything left toward that iconic 'Boston Marathon' finish line. As with the prior runnings, I considered myself blessed and most fortunate to be there.
What happened after my finish turned the experience into something that was unimaginable and will stay with me forever. That someone would stage a terrorist bombing at the Boston Marathon never even remotely occurred to me. In fact, when I heard the first reports I thought it must have been something innocent like a manhole explosion or a electric generator gone haywire. But it was soon evident that the unbelievable had really occurred.
So the aftermath of this year's running was completely new ground. My emotions were mixed: Thankful that my wife and I were OK, terribly saddened by the deaths of innocent young people and the horrible injuries, angry that the family-focused innocence of the day had been violated, and filled with admiration for the responses of the police, medical personnel, volunteers, fellow runners, and just plain citizens.
But my main feeling that was different from prior runnings of Boston was an ironclad sense of determination to run Boston again next year. Thankfully, my age group time will allow me to do that. So, barring serious injury (really serious!), family emergency or other dire situation, I will do everything humanly possible to stand at the starting line in Hopkinton next year. I have a new sense of motivation and inspiration to carry me through those cold and windy long training runs in February and March. That's what's different for me, and I bet of a lot of other runners feel the same.
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