 |
At 30K
photo by Tom Cole |
Race: Boston Marathon
Location: Hopkinton-Boston
Goal Time: 3:10:00
Actual Time: 3:12:00 (PR,
BQ-3)
The
large blue arch looked hazy through the rain. But I could see it
down by the library. I counted down the street actually on my hand:
Gloucester, Fairfield, Exeter, Dartmouth. Tears were welling up and
I had my arms thrust up in triumph and relief. It was a long way to
get to this moment: not just in the running today, not just the
training this year, not just the training for the past 5 years. It
was a journey of personal commitment, change and redemption. And now
– as my feet felt like they were as pruned as dishpan hands and my
butt and leg muscles had nearly stopped firing – I was doing it!
There’s a runners’ saying about the end of the Boston Marathon: Right on Hereford; Left on Boylston. At that point you’ve made it.
It is only four blocks to the Library and to the finish line. But
this is a runners construct. For my years as a non-marathon runner,
I have to say the turn on Hereford was something I never even heard
of. When I was a kid in Atlanta, you would see the leader take the
turn onto Boylston on the nightly news. Once I was in High School,
we would down to the Prudential Center and watch people after the
turn onto Boylston. So, for me the turn on Hereford was never a big
deal.
I
can’t say exactly when I decided to run the Boston Marathon. I do
know that in January of 1984 when I was 10 years old, I decided to
run the Peachtree Road Race – Atlanta’s massive 10k race. In
July, I finished it, much to the surprise of the downstairs neighbor
– Andre. I also clearly remember running the Run for Life 10K at
Life Chiropractic College in Marietta, GA that summer. Along the
roadside, they had motivational signs. And one of them said “Boston
Next…” So, I’m assuming that is where the bug of the Boston
Marathon got into my head. In 1984, I was told to run the Boston
Marathon, you had to qualify by running another marathon at 7/min
miles. So, I figured if I kept running after my two big 10ks of that
summer, I would be able to qualify by the time I was 18.
Qualifying
for the Boston Marathon makes the race special for the running
community. Often called the “Everyman’s Olympics,” 70-80% of
the field are those who ran another marathon below a specific speed
for their age and gender to earn their qualified spot. Boston
Qualified (or BQ) is both an honor and a personal achievement of the
amateur runner. And, as I can attest, it is not nearly as easy as
one might think when they start planning to do it. The distance of
the marathon makes it not like any other race you might run.
There
is a myth that Phiedippedes ran from Marathon to Athens to announce
the victory. However, this conflicts with Herodotus’ telling of
the Persian Wars (and he was there). It seems to me that
Romano-Greek Lucan probably read Herodotus and then wrote his story,
without having the text nearby and got two stories confused. This
story was crystalized into English when Robert Browning wrote the
almost unreadable Phiedippedes.* This version of the myth is
what the Olympic organizers took with them to Athens when they held
the first Olympics in 1896.
The
sleepy exurb town of Hopkinton, where the race starts, swells by 4
times its size on the third Monday in April. Massachusetts’
Patriots Day was chosen to symbolize the connection between Athens’
and America’s battle for Independence. Originally the race was
shorter and actually started in Ashland. The 26.2 miles goes through
8 towns before finish in Copley Square. Indeed, this is why people
say the Boston Marathon doesn’t belong to anyone but to everyone.
I
rode my bike from Cambridge down to the Common and met Kate Daniel at
bag check. The two of us took the bus together out to Hopkinton and
the Athlete's Village. I was glad that we were forced to do all
these small steps to get from the Common to the start line – it
made me briefly forget the enormity of it all. But as I walked out
to the actually starting corrals, I was feeling it. I ran into Alain
Ferry and then the Boys from SRR who were volunteering – Scott,
Marc, Mauro and Tim. I pushed my way into the first corral of Wave
2. I was one of the last people in the corral so I was right up
against the second corral. Kevin C. was behind me in the second
corral. Here I was, Boston Marathon. This was actually happening!
Once the gun went off, all I could think about was a commercial from
the late 80s for Channel 7 New: “Next Stop... Boston!”
Everyone
along the route and throughout New England has a special ownership to
the race. There is also a special aura. In a recent article in the
Eagle Tribune, top level local runner Nate Jenkins talks about
informing his father that he had qualified for the Olympic Trials in
the marathon. Nate's father was less concerned with the Olympic
trials and more concerned with the important race for a New
Englander: “Does that mean you qualified for Boston?”
When
I moved to Boston in 1987, I got a portion of that special ownership.
Since the race is held on a holiday, we had the day off of school.
And as mile and two mile track runner, I always made my way down to
the course to watch the race. The goal of running the marathon had
been deferred – not extinguished. I was busy running the
middle-distances and would not have been able to train for longer
distances. And this was pre-interweb, so I wouldn’t have known how
to find out such information except by going to the library. And, I
probably would not have known there were books to help.
By
the time I got to college, my world view had changed. I was less
interested in reaching goals NOW and more into letting the world play
through me. I guess you can say this for my entire 20s. I kinda
lived day to day instead with a big picture in front of me. So,
running to train for a marathon was not something I was into doing.
I was into it still being a daydream plan for myself. I just wasn’t
into actually doing it.
The
Boston Marathon course had been chosen because it closely resembles
the Marathon-Athens Course. The organizers wanted to relive that
same Browning Myth in Boston with the “American Marathon.” The
Olympic Team Manager, John Graham, was a BAA team member and with the
help of a local business man was able to map out a course. Starting
in Ashland it would copy the downhill off the Plain of Marathon. It
would then run into the city and finish with a lap of Irvington Oval;
whose exact location is now lost to history.
That
first downhill out of Hopkinton is pretty steep for the first 4 miles
as it takes you out of Hopkinton and into Ashland. I was warned that
the start would be slow – as so many people are crammed together.
However, when I got my number assignment (Wave 2/ Corral 1), I was
hoping that wouldn’t happen. That meant there would be a good 15
minutes between me and the people in front of me. I would be in the
front of the Wave 2 race. The fourth mile is marked by the Ashland
Town Clock Tower.
I
had an ideally simple yet mentally challenging game plan. I was
going to start out slow and every 5K pick up speed a little bit. And
then at the 25K mark, stop worrying about time and worry about
effort. Put in great effort over the Newton Hills. Then at mile 21,
reassess and see how much energy I had to run through Brookline and
home to Copley Square. I kept calm in he 5k through the farms and
quaintness of Hopkinton and Ashland. I hit the 5k mark at 24:45,
which considering a natural break at mile 2 was great!
The racing can start on the flats. As you leave the exurbs of
Ashland, you get into the outer suburbs of Framingham and Natick.
The new Framingham train station is at the 10K point and that would
be the spot where full racing should commence. Additionally, the
crowds start to get bigger here. As everywhere on the route, it’s
not just runners but also spectators who are the event.
As we entered Framingham, I was successfully running just that much
faster. And in the outskirts of Framingham Center, the Framingham
State kids were out in full force (and full-drink). “Wow, I said,
it's 11am, that's dedication to be drunk already.” At the
Framingham Center rail station, I had dropped it properly to 22:30
for the second 5k. I was feeling well and hadn't been overcome yet.
It wasn't until after the 15k mark – that I had hit properly again
22:15 – that I started to fully understand the enormity of
everything. Natick is packed with spectators. As everyone owns the
marathon, this is the spot the people of Natick own. Although still
outer suburb, in the town center you get the city feel. The street
is lined on both sides by probably 90% of the people of Natick.
Wearing my Somerville Road Runners singlet, they recognize a local
and yell out: “Go Somerville!” I think it's a recognition that
were not different. The spectators are a major part of the race.
The Boston Marathon is the perfect spectacle for watchers. The
women’s athletes at their sport in the world will run past you at
the 10 mile mark Natick Town Common at 10:30. Then 20 minutes later,
the best men in the world will run by. Then an hour after that, your
friend Cathy from work who’s a serious runner will come by. And
finally an hour after that you can watch your nephew who is running
his first marathon to raise money for Cancer research. In no other
event can you see your friends and families compete against the best
in the world.
The world is one of those odd phrases. It wasn’t until I left to
see even a small piece of it that I really regained my desire to run.
I spent 4 months cycling across the Balkans in 2009. This trip
invigorated my desire to see more and more importantly – do more.
And I returned with a single manageable goal – qualify and run the
Boston Marathon. I started by running my first half marathon – the
Maine Half Marathon in Portland. While I ran okay, I was still a
pack-a-day smoker. (I guess I ran great for that).
The next portion is still flat but starting to get long. I always
consider mile 10 to 18, the Horse Latitudes. You aren’t close to
done and you have to work, but you still have to worry about saving
yourself for the end. For the Boston Marathon, this horse latitude
will get broken up at mile 16. Going into the race I had always heard
that the women from Wellesley College were the loudest part of the
course. Sometimes you can hear their “scream tunnel” from a mile
away. But, I have also been told that loudness is nowhere near as
loud as when the first woman runner comes through Wellesley…
While the Boston Marathon is thought of as, the Everyman’s
Olympics, for most of its history the “man” part was crucial. It
wasn’t until 1966 that a woman ran it (and she had to bandit it).
The next year Katherine Switzer ran the race under the name KV
Switzer. Race organizers tried to physically force her off the
course rather than have her finish. It wasn’t until 1972 that they
would officially be recognized as runners and be allowed to register.
The 20K mark was in the midst of the “scream tunnel.” I was
taking in this seminal moments of the race, As the loudest yell I
had ever heard in a race went on for about a ¼ mile. This bursts of
rain I had experienced in Ashland and Natick had not dampened their
enthusiasm (see what I did there?). I was getting a bit emotional as
the yells washed over me; and, the Wellesley College police officer
might have thought I was hurting or overwhelmed by the actual
running. He yells out: “C'mon Summah-ville, you can make it. At
least it ain't snowing.”
Indeed,
108 inches of snow made training a challenge to say this least. At
one point in February, I couldn't take it anymore. I was not going
to let all that stupid snow slow me down. On February 11th,
I decided I was going to run everyday. I was going to train over
ice, over packed snow and in snowstorms. And, I did. The snow
slowly melted, the sidewalks slowly cleared and my average speed
slowly increased. For 47 straight days until my last long run on
March 29th, I ran at least 3 miles every day (and more
than 6 miles on 44 of them). Then I realized I only had 3 more days
to make 50 days. It wasn't until April 3rd after 51 days
and 514 miles that I ended my streak. And, so it was that I really
felt I had put in the training for this lifetime achievement.
After
Wellesley College, I had continued on my next faster pace. In the
center of town, you cross the halfway point of the Marathon. My
watch put me at 1:36:3...something for the first half. Wow, I
thought. If I do that again, it's 3:13. That meant a new Personal
Best but also another BQ and BQ minus 2 minutes to boot! and within
the range of “getting in.”
In 1970, the BAA instituted qualification standards for the marathon.
For the first time, runners would be required to run a 4 hour
marathon to get into Boston. By the time I was running my first
marathon in 2010, I had to run a 3:15 marathon. I got to the start
line with no intention of trying to qualify. But, once the race
started… As, Tim Morin said: “Well, that was stupid.” My
second marathon is the only marathon where I haven’t tried to
qualify. I was only 5 months removed from my first one. I was only 6
months removed from quitting smoking. And, I was 30 pounds
overweight. And, oddly, it went worse than those variables would
make it sound.
At mile 16, the horse latitudes of the Boston Marathon end. You run
into Newton Lower Falls and then you have the first (and little
talked about ) Newton Hill. As you climb out of the Charles River
and up toward the Woodland stop, it’s one of the steepest parts of
a marathon I’ve ever run. I remember the 2012 New Bedford Half
Marathon. As you run up that crappy hill at mile 12 and think you
might as well quit, I saw Sean McDonough Jr cheering. He didn’t
say any of the typical banal “keep it up” or “almost there”
stuff. Nope, his words: “now it’s time to start working.”
I’ve looked at the profile of this race 20 times – at least.
I’ve ran the Newton Hills 5 times this year alone. The previous 31
years of life, five years of training, 750 miles this year and 16
miles today were all a mere prelude to this very moment. Here, I
listen to Sean, again: “Now is the time to start working.”
The 5k from Wellesley College to the 25k mark at Newton Lower Falls
was the fastest of the day. But that is of course a mirage. Because
now was the time I needed to work. So as we climbed back up out of
Lower Falls and toward the Newton-Wellesley Hospital my focus shifted
from 5k at a time to one hill at a time. Crossing over Route 9 and
then the interstate, the road became more familiar for this city boy.
I recognized the roll of the hills. And even on the open six lane
highway, the crowds started to get big. (And would continue getting
bigger and louder and more people who either I knew or who would yell
for the local: “C'mon Summah-ville!”)
Through out this first hill I was worried. I was passing people on
the uphill. Maybe I'm running too fast?
Maybe they know something I don't about the next hills?
But, this didn't deter me from executing my plan. We crested the
hill by the Hospital and then I saw the big right. At mile 17.5 is a
big right turn from Route 16 and onto Commonwealth Avenue. And right
there is Newton Firehouse #2. The firehouse is a landmark during the
race, but even more of one during the training. “We ran out to the
Firehouse and back,” is a phrase often heard around running circles
in February and March. It's convenient to the Newton Hills and has a
bathroom and water bubbler.
2012 was also the first year I really had a chance of qualifying. 7
weeks after New Bedford and 3 weeks after Boston, I ran the
Providence Marathon. Both Korynn and I were going to make that step
from casual runner to BQ status. For 23 miles, I was going to qualify
for the Boston Marathon. And then, there is this tough short
annoying hill at mile 23 (I believe Ruthanne calls those hills,
“snotty”). When I got to the top of that hill, I hit the wall.
I had slowed down well below pace and just couldn’t run any faster.
In August I tried again at Reykjavik to fail but not as
spectacularly, since I realized I wouldn’t do it earlier in the
race so finished the last quarter easy. I capped the year with a
victory lap marathon at Cape Cod. I ran the Clam Chowder Challenge
(half marathon Saturday; full marathon Sunday.)
The second hill carries you up to the 18 mile mark and then it’s a
gentle descent to mile 19 and Newt on Town Hall. The 30km mark is
where most marathons get hard. It's about the limit of people's
natural abilities. “Boston Billy” Rodgers said he thought that
the hardest part of the race is the next two hills because they are
right after you have reached your natural ability. My next small
goal was the top of the hill at 30k. My running club always sets up
right past the 30km (18.7 mile) line. I knew my fiance and others
would be there. The Tsarnaev trial just finished last week so I also
knew that when I got passed that, I was winning.
In 2013, I was supposed to run my fiancé-to-be, Urvi, in from the
30km mark to the finish line. Right as she got to that point, I
hopped onto the course with her. We went about 100 yards when we saw
our friend Ariana on the phone crying. She was talking to her
fiancé. He was at the finish line with her son. And telling her
and everyone: “Don't come down here.” I was thrown a bit frantic.
I was worried about Ariana's family, I wanted Urvi to finish
what she had worked so hard to get to, but I didn't want to go
anywhere we might get trapped. I didn't know if ahead they were
corralling runners or closing off streets or what. ** Once it was
determined that Ariana's family was safe and on their way out of the
finish line area, I convinced a bewildered and dehydrated Urvi that
the race was over and we needed to go back to our running club.
There would be people with cars and we could probably get out of
Newton quickly. Dafne, who is from Calabria, Italy, gave us a ride
home and had managed to pick up a reporter for the New York Times of
Italy – la Repubblica – who had been running and was also
stopped by the bombing.
The next few days were a whirlwind. Thursday night, our club was at
a vigil for the victims at Somerville City Hall. Afterward, there
were murmurs about a shooting at MIT. Our friend who is a Cambridge
cop, had to work a double shift that night. There was a carjacking
by the expected terrorists (which later turned out to happen across
the street from my parents’ house!). In the morning, we were on
lockdown and the area around Urvi's apartment was cordoned off
because it was near the Tsarnaev's apartment.
Two weeks after the murder of MIT police officer Sean Collier and the
lockdown and the police sweeps of Deb and Steve's backyard, a group
of us went out to Pittsburgh to run the Marathon there. For several
of us this was a doubly emotional marathon. Tommy and Anthony were
both like me and trying for their first BQ. Bradley was going to try
to break 3 hours. But for all of us, we were three weeks removed
from the bombing, from the police lockdown and from the anguish. It
was not far enough away to be distant from it; but, it was far enough
away to think we were.
In light of the bombings less than a month before, Pittsburgh was a
good day. But while I was “running” it, Pittsburgh was a bad
day. At mile 7 on the West Side, I tried to jump over a median.
And, I twisted my ankle. 4 months and 1000 miles of training were
blown out by twisting my ankle in a marathon – of all things. 2013
was now a coupled with a personal setback and public tragedy of the
marathon bombing.
Climbing that hill from the landmark of the Firehouse to the
Somerville Road Runners tent had become more important to me than
taking that left onto Boylston. As, I climbed up, thousands of
people with pop up tents were screaming their heads off. Many of
them were probably in the same spot as 2013. If pressure cooker
bombs hadn't scared them off, the rain that was now pelting certainly
wouldn't. Every step up the hill become a little lighter with the
yells for “Somerville” and the occassional “Jesse!” Then I
saw the medical tent at mile 18, then there was the turn , then there
was the 30K photo spot. Then...
Then, there was the SRR Tent. I noticed it was bit of a downhill to
the tent, since it sits lower than you when you first see it. I made
sure I was as far to the left as I could go. The first people I saw
were Ben and Korynn. And then Brian Keefe and Sean. And then it was
a blur of high-fiving until I got to Urvi. I was making it! I
failed to grab my bag from her. I was uncertain whether I'd be able
to start running again, I stopped running to kiss her as Aharon had
with Amy. So I just kept going. Emma tracked me down to get me my
bag.
The reason I really hadn't want to go forward with Urvi from the 30K
mark is the 19 mile mark. At mile 19 there is a large water stop and
it's where Newton City Hall is and a large cross street – Walnut.
It would have been a good point to corral runners after the bombing.
Immediately after that, the third of the Newton Hills starts. It
carries you up to mile 20 and up to the spot where the Hashers set up
with emergency beer supplies.
My next goal was to get up the hill to the Hashers. It was the “next
hill” and Brendan Caffrey was supposed to give me a calories in
the form of shrimp cocktail. At the base of the hill I was surprised
by Paul Hammond and Chris Spinney (who was fortunately not telling me
where to get out of the wind). And, then Matt Noyes jumped out and
gave me a really hard lo-five. (I remember thinking as I passed
Boston College two miles later, “oww, my hand still hurts.”)
Then about halfway up the hill, I saw Brendan Kearney cheering. I
think I was too determined or too tired to get over and high-five
him. Finally at Mile 20, I made the hill and the Hashers. “Where
the fuck is my shrimp cocktail?”
The 20 mile mark was the spot in the 2013 Manchester Marathon where I
realized I might be able to BQ. With the California International a
mere month later, I had wanted to use Manchester as training run and
get in some “marathon pace” miles. But when I was supposed to
slow back down from marathon pace to easy pace at mile 16, I felt too
good to do so. Eventually around mile 20 I caught up with Karen
Encarnacion and we spent the next 4 miles on and off together pace
and wind blocking (well, I was wind-blocking). At mile 26, I looked
at the big clock, it read 3:12:00. I was going to do it, I was going
to BQ! At 3:13:43, I was qualified for the 2015 Boston Marathon. That
was one big hill for me to finally climb.
Mile 21 and the main entrance to Boston College mark the last big
hill on the Boston Marathon route. It gains a little less than 100
feet in about a mile. While that isn’t too bad, it’s between
mile 20 & 21. In 1936, Johnny Kelley the Elder, caught up with
Tarzan Brown, who was on world record pace, at Mile 20. He gave Brown
a “good job” pat on the back as he went by. But Brown wasn’t
done. He passed Kelley to go onto the win; and, in the words of
Jerry Nason of the Boston American, “broke Johnny’s
heart.” Thus, it’s called Heartbreak Hill. While it’s largely
downhill from BC, there are still 5 miles left in the Marathon. It
is no victory lap.
Heartbreak was not a heartbreak for me. I had moved right at some
point. While I was not doing as well as the Newton-Wellesley
Hospital hill, I was still passing people. My gameplan had been
terrific. And I had executed it successfully. I got up to the sign
that says “top of heartbreak.” But I did not celebrate. There
is one more little bump about an 1/8 of a mile further that is really
- “almost all down hill from here.” On the left there is an odd
looking Swiss-chalet inspired house with I'm guessing 9 units. That
is the top for me.
2014 came around and it was such a big deal. The city, state, nation
and world came out to stand up to terrorism and “take the Finish
Line back.” In the weeks leading up to the race, I had been so
disappointed by my twisted ankle at Pittsburgh and that Manchester
and California International had been too late to get me in. In the
end, I'm glad I didn't qualify for 2014. I got to be one of a
million people cheering along the course; announcing like Ortiz:
"This is our Fucking City." Dedicating the weekend to Uvi's success was
awesome. She fought through a painful CIM training cycle and then
after the heel injury at Manhattan Half Marathon. I was able to
share the last 8 miles or so with her.
After she passed us at the 30K mark, I mounted my bike and rode onto
the 22 mile mark at Cleveland Circle, where Urvi’s family was
waiting. Then I leapfrogged through Brookline along the course on
Beacon Street. This part of the course, while largely flat or
downhill, does have an annoying uphill to Coolidge Corner and then
back down to the 40km mark to almost Kenmore Square. Brookline is
where the course gets exciting for me. Living in Jamaica Plain and
Fenway while I was in High School, Cleveland Circle was probably the
edge of the Boston City Kid’s reach. There was a movie theater
there – which still stands but looks closed. Beacon Street is on
the Green Line with trolleys running along the middle of the street.
It’s the first time you are feeling like you’re in the City.
I charged down the hill from BC to Cleveland Circle, with a cheer
from Matt Story on the way. When I took the left onto Beacon, I was
ready to run and enjoy the parts of the Boston Marathon I always
wanted to. Unfortunately, I was hurting a bit but also still running
fast. If I hoped to keep up the speed and get a personal record, I
had to keep focused on one step at a time. Fortunately, Cleveland
Circle into Boston, I already know like the back of my hand. I had a
general idea of how far, if not in distance or time, in effort at
every location. With my head down and my Pirates had pulled down
low into the nearly driving rain, I just started putting on the steps
through Washington Square and passed Tom Scudder. In
Coolidge Corner, I saw my mother yelling her head off.
At the 40K mark, you can see the famous Citgo sign that looms above
Kenmore Square and is an icon over the monster at Fenway Park. The
sign was originally put up in the 40s, but in 1965 Citgo and the Sign
got its current logo. Before you enter Kenmore Square, there is one
last hurdle: the little bridge on Beacon that goes over the Turnpike
and Yawkey train station. Fight over that and you just have one mile
to go down beautiful Comm Ave, before that right on Hereford.
I got to St Mary's Street and saw the Citgo sign. You reenter the
City of Boston, here. Between the signs for Boston and the sign, I
completely missed that Mark Duggan was cheering there. I was ready
for the lip of a hill at the Pike. I just ran it hard. I knew I'd
get a breather as I ran down the hill into Kenmore. I avoided the
giant puddle where Brookline Street hits Kenmore and the crowd
spurred me on past the one mile to go sign. OMG, Here I am. On the
other side of Kenmore, I got a yell from Jake Barnett who was with
his family awaiting his father to come by.
After 30 years and finally running a BQ time – twice – there was
still one more hurdle to leap. I had run a 3:13:31 at California
International. The question was: would that be enough to get in?
Qualifying is not enough anymore. There are only a certain number of
spots available and only the fastest people who have registered get
those spots. So on Wednesday September 24th, I stayed
glued to my computer constantly looking at Entrants to see if they
had posted the last group yet. I got text messages from people
asking if I had heard. People on gchat were on the edge of their
seats to see if they or any one they knew got in. At 5:52 PM, I got
the “has been accepted” email and nearly cried. I had reached
everything I needed to attain a lifelong goal; well, except the
actual running.
All that work, waiting, emotional roller coaster, life lessons and
life changes culminated. I took the right onto Hereford (which is
annoyingly uphill, by the way). And then I took the left on
Boylston. I ran down the street with my arms in the air. On the
right was the old Cheri theater where we saw many movies since Long
Kim was the manager. On the left one of the buildings I always went
to as a courier. On the right was the Expo. On the left was the Pour
House with $1 Burgers and the Walgreens that used to be the Paris
theater where I saw Dead Poet's Society and fought through
protesters to see The Last Temptation of Christ. On
the right was the old North Plaza of the Prudential Center where
Dennis Saccoach and I used hide in high school to drink Vodka and Coke. On
the left was the ATM machine I once had to help a woman who was
trapped get out. On the right was the Lennox Hotel bar we went to a
week after the bombing. On the left was the Pizzeria Uno Ian stormed
through the patio seating in the late 90s to get out instead of going
the right way and the Au Bon Pain Maryanne Chicarelli worked at. On
the left was the site of the second bomb. On the right was the Library and the stop I used to catch the 55 bus to high school. On
the left was the Marathon Sports and the site of the first bomb. And then it was the front.
Those big arches and the finish line.
In between dry heaves I was crying. Medical staff though I was
really bad. I said no. I normally dry heave a few times.... To
quote Nicholas Thompson from the New Yorker: “[The marathon
is] an epic event in which men and women appear almost superhuman.
The winning men run for hours at a pace even normal fit people can
only hold in a sprint. But it’s also so ordinary. It’s not held
in a stadium or on a track. It’s held in the same streets everyone
drives on and walks down.” The Boston Marathon’s epicness makes
it a challenge; but, it’s the ordinariness – the Everyman's and
Everywoman's Olympics – that makes it great.
*-
On the plus side, it does have a cool rhyme pattern for each of its
15 stanzas: ABCDDCAB
**-
It turned out almost no such action from race officials took; Bill
Hees even had to be informed by spectators rather than officials that
the race was over.
