I had hoped to be in Boston this year for the marathon, but my travel schedule didn’t permit it. I wasn’t going to run, but I was planning on joining my running crew who were there to cheer on some of our own. I knew about 20 runners who were participating in the race.
One in particular, is a dear friend who had worked for over five years to have her special day at Boston. We have run many marathons together and put in countless hours on trails and roads. We have slogged through humid summer days dripping in sweat and been pelted by freezing rain on early winter runs. All in the pursuit of a BQ (Boston Qualifier). And after many close attempts at qualifying, Mel’s determination, hard work and spirit triumphed and she earned her coveted spot among the elite runners of the world who flocked to Boston this year for the once-in-a-lifetime experience.
I had the pleasure of running Boston in 2011 and it was unlike any other marathon I have ever run. Boston is special for so many reasons. The greatest marathon runners of all time have lined up in Hopkinton for the last 117 years. I remember embracing the day and feeling the pride as I got to run beside the best of the best. And I was awed by the history of great runners who had taken the journey before me.
But the Boston experience isn’t just about the runners. The spectators and volunteers who line the streets from Hopkinton to Boylston Street make the event unlike any other marathon, and perhaps any other race in the world.
The course is lined, often 3-6 people deep, with folks who are there to offer support and encouragement. It’s a hearty group, so forget the casual clap or “Go runners,” you normally hear at a typical marathon or road race. These folks are feisty and they mean business, as only Bostonians do. They clap, they scream, they cheer for hours upon hours, whether you are in the lead pack or just one of the countless marathoners pulling up the rear.
I still have vivid memories of high-fiving kids standing alongside their parents as I ran by and kissing the girls from Wellesley College. Only in Boston, do you have a quarter-mile stretch of screaming co-eds holding signs like, “Kiss me, I’m a redhead” or “Get a smooch from a future doctor.” A demure cheek is offered as you make your way to the lass of choice and then you’re off again, literally slowing down for mere seconds for a quick peck (or two or three…ok, I got 5 kisses but who’s counting?) and some great memories.
By the time you hit Heartbreak Hill and feel like your legs are done, the volunteers and spectators are there to lift your spirits again and push you on to the greatness they see in each and every runner. And of course there is the roar of the crowd as you make your final turn and head down the home stretch to the finish line.
I remember feeling the energy of the crowd and pushing as hard as I could to the end. It was a moment of pure joy and exhilaration. A moment to be celebrated and bundled for a lifetime of reflection.
But yesterday’s bombings changed that fairy tale ending for the 22,500 runners and their families. It’s a sad story to comprehend, but one that is perhaps more life-affirming than any other.
For the most part, runners who prepare for and run Boston are a special breed. They live life fully. They will not hunker down in fear from this. I have seen such moving responses from friends who are reacting in the aftermath of the tragedy by wearing marathon shirts, planning to train for Boston in 2014 or simply going out for a run to show solidarity and support. It is this attitude that terrorists can’t destroy.
But it’s not just about the runners. The city of Boston and its people are not willing to hunker down either. The half million people who support and line the streets are not your normal breed. They are a resilient group that sees the best in others. They applaud stamina and courage and exhibit it as well. As so many did on Monday.
The extra measures offered by the good folks of Boston in the aftermath of the bombing was nothing less than inspiring. The acts of heroism and the selfless help that so many rushed to offer are a testament to what makes this race and all the people connected to it so special. My friend, Cheryl, who was running Boston to celebrate her 50th birthday, posted on facebook that:
Amidst the tragedy, people were beyond kind to the runners, offering food, water, their homes, and for this runner, a warm fleece blanket for the walk back to the hotel – @ that point, the best bday present I could hope for, that, and the fact that Richard (her husband) was with me running me in from Mile 16. No, I was not able to finish, but given the circumstance, I was just thankful to be surrounded by the beautiful runners. Love to you all.
There are countless reports of people coming to the aid of others. So let us find comfort in the fact that our humanity is not destroyed by these senseless acts. In fact, we grow stronger and our suffering only unites and bonds us. And if you think you will bring down a tradition as rich as the Boston Marathon, you have surely underestimated the people of Boston and the runners who will continue to flock there for an experience that has always celebrated the human spirit.
Darkness does not put out our light, it simply illuminates it.
