I am privileged to be one of the 36,000 runners and I will lace up my shoes and say a prayer as I start another journey to Boylston Street finish line.
The finish line the day before the race.
The day after many media stations are camped out.
I saw many memorials going up around town.
"Justice Will Prevail."
The drop bags were available the day after.
The folks manning the drop bag area presented me with my medal.
My 25.89 Mile Boston Marathon
After struggling through this tough course within a
half mile to the finish line, I was finally feeling elated to be crossing the
Boston Marathon finish line. My first Boston Marathon! The spectators were
cheering us on. Street bands were blaring. I notice the “T” Boston’s commuter
train on the left has come to a stop and commuters have become race spectators
too. I push my pace trying to revive my slow pace to one that I can live with
and then I came to a halt. We all came to a halt!
I stopped my Garmin at 25.89 miles in 4:44.
Some of the runners ahead of me turned around and said
the race has been stopped. A few minutes earlier I heard sirens, one after the
other. This brought back memories of another marathon that was stopped in 2007
when I ran the Chicago Marathon. One person died and over 300 other runners
were taken to emergency rooms due to heat. I had a bad feeling, but couldn’t
understand why this would stop a race. I texted my husband, Mark to let him know my
race was stopped. We had planned to meet after the race as he stayed back at
our friend’s home while I ran. Runners were in a holding pattern wondering what
was going on. Mark texted back about a bomb and several people were
killed and many more injured.
What? Really? Why? Who? A few minutes later I could see
several people hugging and crying. And it sunk in what had happened. Mark said he would come pick me up. I knew this would be difficult with street
closures and the chaos around me. I walked up to the nearest street corner and
noticed city buses lining up so I got on thinking I just need to get out of
here. Then I realized that they were evacuating all the runners. Runners were
boarding the buses. Many of us still needed our drop bags which were still at
the finish line. We were told that they were going to have dogs search for
explosives first before they would let us get them. Many runners had their car
keys, hotel keys, and cell phones in their bags. I lent my phone to several
runners who did not have their phones. The man next to me had his smart phone
and was reading us the current news reports of what was going on. It was grim.
The buses finally moved us off the race course. We arrived and at the Boston
Commons area which is a major road through town. Up and down the road came the
police force, the SWAT Teams, the Bomb Squads, and then Military tanks. It
looked like we were going to war. And the sirens kept coming.
It was going to be a long day. Mark posted to my facebook
page that I was safe. This proved helpful as my family and friends back home
were sending texts, voice messages, and emails asking if I was okay.
I am okay. It was an unspeakable tragedy that I will
not forget. I hope no one ever forgets those who suffered greatly from this
event and know that runners form a strong bond.
Here is my story from the beginning of Monday, April 15th:
I arrived in Boston’s suburb of Lexington Thursday
before the race and got right to an easy run of 5 “hilly” miles. Since I live
in a city with no hills to train on, this easy run was not so easy. The weather
was cool and breezy, but good for running. I went to the Expo on Friday and I
was in paradise. I was in the Mecca of the running world, like the Super Bowl,
or the Indy 500. I was surrounded by the fittest of the fit.
The Expo was large as you would expect. After packet
pick up I headed straight for the official marathon merchandise. (I had to buy
my jacket!)
I did one last easy run on Sunday to get my legs used
to these hills. And after my pre-race dinner I set out all my gear and went to
bed early. Since I was staying with friends, I did not need to catch an early
bus to Hopkinton. I arrived at the Athlete’s Village and found my corral. The
sun was out and the music was blaring as runners milled around waiting for
their starts. I was in corral 3, wave 3. I found some other Raleigh runners to
walk to the start with.
I started at 10:40 AM with 48 degrees, sun and clouds
with slight breezes. The conditions seemed perfect and after one mile in I took
my jacket off and wrapped it around my waist. Since this course is
predominately downhill, I was advised to “hold” back and not start out too
fast. But so many runners were flying past me and I thought, “What do they know
that I don’t?”
I was hoping to average 9:45 but averaged 9:35 in the first
7 miles. Going downhill was hard to keep my pace “down.” (Everyone talks about
the 3 hills, but it’s more like 12 and lots of them in the first half even
though they aren’t as big as the Newton hills, still you have to constantly
change gears.) I was especially surprised at the end of mile 1 to find my first
hill (323 feet - 353 feet). I pushed on. Another hill at mile 4 (190 feet - 243
feet). I kept my pace in check and pushed on. Mile 9 came another hill (139
feet - 223 feet) and I wondered what would “Heartbreak Hill” do to me? My pace
slowed down to 10:23 in the next 7 miles.
Then miles 16 - 21 came the BIG hills and I was NOT
prepared for them (since living in Indy is very flat). It’s embarrassing that I
walked a lot. I averaged 12:50 in this area. Then in mile 16 a little old, gray-haired woman
hunched over ran past me. I couldn’t catch up to her. In the next mile an Achilles
Guide was running past me with a blind runner. I couldn’t catch up to them. Another slow mile for me, a man with a fake leg (not a blade runner either) was passing me. The last
straw for me was when a man in a wheelchair (not a special racing one either)
and aided by two Achilles Guides pushed past me.
Finally, I crested Heartbreak Hill and I could pick up
my pace, but not as much as I wanted as my legs were screaming at me. I
averaged 10:50 in the final miles. The winds changed and became strong
headwinds in the last miles and I had to put my jacket back on. I gathered my
wits and pushed on trying to find the wheelchair guy, the fake-leg guy, the
blind runner and the little old lady runner so I can pass them. I managed to
pass 2 out of the 4. I pushed on until the race came to a halt.
The spectators were fabulous all along the course.
There was hardly a moment where some type of street performers or cheering
crowds were absent. The whole town celebrates “Marathon Monday” and you are the
star.
This was a historic event and I
won’t ever forget my first Boston Marathon, but this race was truly humbling.
My initial thought was “I would never run this freaking course again.” But in
the aftermath of today’s events, “It will be an honor to run this race next
year and I WILL BE BACK!” Bring on those hills! r
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