Boston Marathon 2013: Part One

I write this on the day after the horrific tragedy that happened at the Boston Marathon finish line. I have spent 24-hours checking up on friends who were running or spectating, watching the news, reading first-hand accounts of the explosions, seeing and hearing rallying cries from the Boston running community and the non-running community that Boston will come back from this. I've also spent a lot of time responding to the enormous outpouring of support and concern expressed by family, friends, acquaintances and even some strangers. I think the first time I truly felt the gravity of the situation is when I was scrolling through my 100+ facebook notifications of people asking if I was ok. This was an emotional gut punch partly because I was grateful that so many people cared, and partly because it was the first time I realized that I was ok, and what a gift that was.

At first, I wasn't going to write a race report for the marathon. Or I was going to wait a week and let all the events sink in. Things are still too fresh, too new, too disturbing. The tragedy far outweighed the minutiae of the day. And while that is still true, I have found that the most inspiring stories I have read or heard are from fellow runners who have recapped the day's events. In talking with team members about the tragedy, we eventually will ask one another, "But, before all of that... how was your run?" And THAT is what gives me hope. The tradition of the marathon, specifically the Boston Marathon, will live on, precisely because that's who we are. We are runners. We don't give up.

One of my favorite facebook photos from the day. Credit PJC, whoever that is.

And so, I'm going to write up a full race report of the day, remembering the details as I felt them at the time. We trained for almost five months, and I ran the Boston Marathon for 4.5 good, happy, celebratory hours before the tragedy happened. I won't let them take that away from me. One of the many voicemails on my cell phone that I listened to today was from my aunt. She said, "You keep doing what you're doing, because what you are doing is good, and we need there to be more good than evil in this world." Well folks, what I do is run slow and write long, so get comfy because this is going to be a true marathon tale.

Race Report

Boston Marathon 

April 15, 2013

Temp at start: 54 degrees and sunny

Part One: Pre-race

I was up at 4:45am, after having slept remarkably well. The only anxious dream I had was that I posted the wrong bib number in my facebook status update informing friends & family how to track me online or via text. I figured if that was the worst fear I had for the day, then I was in pretty good shape. I drove myself to the Westin in Copley Square, our team meeting headquarters. We gathered in the ballroom, writing our names on our shirts and asking each other if we were ready. Before we set off, there was one last Mission Moment. A woman on our team from out of state shared that she joined the team because her dad had liver disease. Sadly, he just passed away a few weeks earlier on April 2nd, and his funeral was the previous Sunday. She proudly had her dad's name in big block letters on her shirt, proclaiming, "Today, I am CHUCK." It was a sad but necessary reminder that this is the reason we are here. We were told that when we felt like crap out on the course, to remember all the people that donated to our campaign, all the patients who we have met or heard about, and all the people still affected by liver disease that depend on the success of this team and our fundraising. That would be the inspiration we'd need to get us to the finish line. 

Run for Research B-team

With that, we were ushered out to the buses that would take us on the excruciatingly long ride to Hopkinton. We don't drive the 26.2 marathon route to get to the start line, we get on highways instead, which make the ride seem like we are being dropped off in the Berkshires of Western Massachusetts. We got to Athlete's Village and set up base camp in a corner of the field. We had about 2.5 hours to kill before the race started, but time actually goes by pretty fast when you're sitting in a field with 27,000 other runners, waiting to start the hardest thing you will likely do all year, which you have all been training for 4+ months. One of the most memorable moments was when all 27,000 runners, plus the countless volunteers, paused for a moment of silence for the victims of the Newtown, CT shooting. The silence was impressive, and we erupted in applause when it concluded, the only outburst of emotion we experienced as a group until we were lined up at the starting line.

Boston Fusion, represent!

My favorite part of this year's Boston Marathon was that my friends Trish and Kien were here from Calgary for the weekend, and Kien was also running. Not only was I in the company of all of my Liver Loving teammates at Athlete's Village, but my Runkeeping, compulsive-marathoning friend was there too. I couldn't have asked for better company!

From the Land of Mu to the Land of Gu

Part Two: The race