How I Want to Remember the 2013 Boston Marathon

Carrie wrote about our Boston Marathon experience in the previous post. I will not mention the attack again because that is not what I want to remember about the day. I feel like my memories and celebration of an unique and life changing experience were stolen from me by an act of madness and hatred. I want to capture how I felt about the race before my positive memories are overshadowed.

The starting line was buzzing with potential energy in a way I've never experienced before. Some people were kicking their legs and a few were stretching out, but most were looking forward with a steely gaze toward the starting line. I had a set of headphones on, listening to some music to get pumped up for the race but I didn't really need it - and unlike all of the other Marathons I had run I planned on not wearing the headphones for the actual race. The racers lined up in the corrals were like a giant spring compressed as tightly as possible. Thousands of elite athletes who had trained for this moment and who were so full of power bars, cliff shots, gu, and honey stingers they were nearly ready to burst. When the race began it was a tidal wave of speed. I'm used to jostling for position at races but this was more like getting caught up in a surge then fighting to get ahead. The course starts downhill and everyone is so amped up that it is easy to go out too fast.

My right leg had been really bothering me for the past two weeks ever since I started tapering off my training. I did a speed work session at the jr. high track and felt like I pulled something. I had low expectations for this race since I could hardly walk around Boston without a hitch in my step on Sunday. I seriously thought I was injured and wouldn't be able to run well. I'm sure my friends and coworkers were tired of me trying to lower my expectations. I was just going to enjoy the experience. The time is not important I kept telling myself. The course is too difficult to set a Personal Record (PR). I told my coach (Carrie) that I would try to go out at 7:20 pace and see what happened.

That plan lasted about a mile. With the wave of adrenaline and the help of some ibuprofen my leg felt pretty good - and with the spirit of the event I just wanted to run. I found a group of people that were going at a pace that I thought felt good and decided to try to shadow them. There was a beefy blond guy in a yellow singlet that I nicknamed Wolverine for some reason. A black woman with an easy to spot long braid that had a "Run with us, it's better than therapy" shirt on and a red headed girl that I stereotypically labeled Ginger. So I fell into step with Wolverine, my therapist, and a member of the crew of the S.S. Minnow for the next 8 -10 miles. Since I was not wearing headphones I was having a hard time hearing the audio pace cues from my iphone GPS app. I thought I heard them clocking in at about 7:05 minute per mile pace. That was much too fast - but I was feeling good and I wasn't sure of my pace because the crowd was so loud!

In regards to the crowds - I have never felt more like a rockstar than I did on the course of the Boston Marathon. My wife had made me a sticker with my name on it and I wore it on the front of my shirt. I must have had at least 1,000 people yell "Go Matt", "You got this Matt", or my favorite "Way to be Matty boy!" during the course of the event. My face seriously started to hurt from smiling so much. The people of Massachusetts were unbelievably supportive. I gave hi fives to hundreds of kids. There was a guy with a sign that said "Go Go Idaho" on a ladder that I literally jumped up to for a high five. That was probably not the best move for my pace but the endorphins were firing like crazy. I was so full of dopamine I was just being silly. 

Around mile 10 I ran into some LDS missionaries and gave them a shout out - and noticed a guy running next to me did as well. I asked if he was Mormon and he said he was. We chatted a bit - something that I never do when racing - a peril of not wearing my headphones. It was fun to have someone to talk to. Maybe I'll try to be a more social runner in the future. We lost each other at the next water station though. I had also lost track of the other folks I had been using as pace bunnies so I settled into my own pace.

I really enjoyed running through the smaller towns like Ashland and Framingham. Being a small town boy myself it was fun to run through them. The crouds reminded me of the Eastern Idaho State fair parade.

I ran near a guy dressed as a hamburger for a while but pressed forward since I didn't want to get beat by the burger guy. I was able to turn up my volume on my phone and confirmed around mile 11 that I was on 7:05 pace. This was much faster than planned and I needed to make a decision. There were still the dreaded Newton hills ahead. I was starting to feel a tiny bit of a hitch in my stride. It was probably best if I backed off the pace for a bit - after all I wanted to be able to walk tomorrow. But, instead I decided to go all in and just try to maintain the 7:05 pace as long as I could and see what happened. It was time to go big! This was the Boston marathon. I started to make small goals. I would see how I was doing at the halfway mark in Wellesley - plus I wanted to be in good form for the legendary Wellesley College screamers.

A note about my nutrition plan. I felt I didn't eat enough for the Victoria Marathon and that perhaps that had contributed to me flagging at the end. To remedy it I ate a lot more during Boston. I had a plain Bagel (72 cal) in the morning on the train ride in and a banana (105 cal) and powerbar at the staging area (230 cal), a package of honey stingers as I walked to the starting line (180 cal), two cliff shot block packages spread out from mile 5 to 18 (caffeinated 400 cal total), and a power bar vanilla energy shot (100 cal). I also probably drank at least 20 oz of Gatorade (517 cal). So, in total about 1600 calories consumed between waking up and finishing the race.

Back to the Wellesley screamers - they were great and very supportive - although I didn't feel their volume lived up to the hype. They were loud but not deafening. There signs were very clever and it was one of the rock star moments of the race. Favorite signs "Kiss me I'm from WA" and "Kiss me I won't tel your Wife / GF" and "Kiss me I'm an Engineer". I gave a high five to the WA girl but did not partake of the kisses. I did see some men accepting the invitations though and it seemed like we all got a boost of energy from the attention.

I made it through Wellesley maintaining my pace. My next milestone was when I expected to see Carrie and our friends around mile 16. Surely I could keep it up until then. I wanted to make sure to be in trouble with coach for being four minutes ahead of schedule. I was starting to feel the affects of the fast pace at this point. I could feel myself breathing harder. My feet were starting to hurt and I wanted to relax my running posture. I felt like the people cheering for me were saying "looking good" less and less and "you can do this" more and more.

Mile 16 came and went and I didn't see Carrie. I thought I would see our friend Mark first since he was on a bike and was planning on shadowing me through part of the race. I started to worry that they had troubles getting to the course and only took solace in the fact that perhaps they missed me because I was so fast.

Happily, around mile 17 I spotted Carrie before she saw me and swooped in and gave her a big hug and kiss - pace be damned! It was great to see her and it gave me a much needed shot of energy as the dreaded Newton hills began.

This is when my hubris started. I was actually looking forward to the hills. I run on mountains in Washington and I was excited to see what all the heartbreak was about. I started taunting the hills a bit in my mind.

"Is that all you got?"
"My hill is five times your size!"
"I'm from Bellevue and this is nothing!"

I felt good through the hills and passed a lot of people. When I crested heartbreak I didn't believe it. I was worried someone was playing a joke on me and that there had to be at least one more hill. I had reached mile 21 and knew it was all down hill from here. My pace had slowed to 7:08 through the hills but I was still well below PR pace and feeling like superman. On the downhill after heartbreak I just took off. I ran one of my fastest miles of the race and the crowd was screaming my name! I knew that the hardest part of the race was still to come but I didn't care in that moment. I wanted to fly.

At around mile 23 I started to pay for my hubris. In my sprint down heartbreak I let my form deteriorate and it was catching up with me. I locked on to a guy in an NRA singlet that had a good pace going and just tried to let my desire to keep up drag me through the last 5k. It doesn't seem like 3.1 miles should seem like a long way to a marathoner - but at that point it felt like an eternity. I could start to see my dreams of a new PR fading away.

As we got closer into the city the crowds were getting bigger and bigger. Unfortunately it was harder to connect with them as I wrestled with myself in my head. The body definitely wanted to shut down. But I thought of all the thousands of people that had given me this gift - the people in Hopkington, Framingham, Ashland, Wellesley, Newton, Boston College. They gave me this one perfect day to run their race. I thought of my wife and my kids and how the race had inspired me to not only run with more heart than I had before but to live my life better than I have before. I wanted to finish strong for all of them.

I also didn't want to pass out - which I was definitely was in serious risk of at this point. I could see the Citgo sign which marks the 1 mile to go point but it seemed really far away. NRA guy pulled up because he had something in his shoe and I passed him which actually felt disheartening rather than encouraging. My arms started to feel numb and tingly and I could feel myself drifting into a bit of a trance. I had to keep talking to myself to make sure I was there. I really wanted to stop running. I focused on putting one foot in front of the other. I passed the Citgo sign and the NRA guy passed me. It was good to have my friend back. One mile to go.

At this point people saying my name was really helpful because it helped pull me hold on to consciousness. I slapped myself in the face every few hundred feet to keep myself alert. I waved my arms to the crowd to try to get them to cheer for me. Carrie saw me do this and later reported I looked like a wounded bird trying to take flight. I turned the corner onto Boyleston street and was daunted by how far way the finish line was. I wasn't positive about it but I had a feeling I was close to my PR. I gutted it out and just kept my feet moving. After what seemed like an eternity I crossed the line and could finally stop. I finished in 3:10:10. Just 30 seconds slower than my PR - but on a much more challenging course and not in as good of shape. I was so happy. This was much better than expected - even though I was a little disappointed about missing the PR and about not hitting the qualifying time for my age group by a mere 10 seconds.

I was laughing with joy and stumbled around the finish area trying not to pass out and trying to soak it all in. I had finished the 117th Boston Marathon and it had been the greatest run of my life. I was so happy. I jumped on my phone and was overwhelmed by all the texts and Facebook messages and emails from the people I love that were cheering for me - it's pretty awesome how technology can magnify this type of experience.

I will always cherish this trip to Boston and the love I felt from all the people in this area. I've never run at any of the other major marathons but it's hard to believe that they could match the spirit of the people here! Despite other events that occurred I'm already scheming about how to come back - good thing my time in Victoria can count toward next year too.

Tender Mercies at the Boston Marathon

I am choosing to write about our entire experience here in Boston, while it is all fresh in my mind.  If you are only interested in today's events, you can scroll further down.  It's been important to me to remember ALL of this experience though. 

The Boston Marathon is AMAZING.  Though I consider myself a runner, I have never had ambitions to run the Boston Marathon.  Actually, neither did Matt until about a year ago.  He had gotten faster than he thought possible and qualifying actually seemed feasible.  He worked like crazy, running hundreds and hundreds of miles in all kinds of weather.  Many days he was out running before the kids and I even woke up.  When he qualified last October at the Victoria Marathon, it was almost unbelievable.  He'd worked so, so hard and had reached his goal.  

Walking into the EXPO on Saturday was overwhelming.  SO many other runners who had achieved this great goal.  Who had worked just as hard as Matt.  It was different than other running expos - everyone looked wicked fast.  Thin, athletic, strong, fast.  I got a new pair of orange running shoes.  We both had lots of free samples of cliff bars, protein chews, gus.  The hype was tangible.  Our good friend Jenn had connected us to her parents, Julie & Bob, who were also there for the race.  They generously opened their hotel room to us so we could change into running clothes & store luggage.  Matt and I were able to enjoy a fabulous run together along the beautiful St. Charles River, surrounded by many other racers getting their final short run in to stretch their legs.  We ended it at the finish line, anticipating Matt's marathon finish in less than 2 days.  

After feasting on crab cakes & tuna at Legal Seafood, a Boston icon, we attended a seminar by Team Hoyt, an incredible father-son team.  The father pushes his quadriplegic son in a wheel chair and this was going to be their 31st Boston Marathon.  They shared an incredible message, "YES, YOU CAN." 

Saturday night we met up with our friends, Jenny & Mark, whom we hadn't seen for almost a year.  We spent most of Sunday together, exploring the historical sights of Cambridge & Boston.  Harvard Yard, Boston Common, Faneuil Hall, The Old North Church, & Paul Revere's House to name a few.  Neither of us had been to Boston before and it was pretty amazing to see where this country's founding fathers had started it all.  Sometimes current politics leave me frustrated, but for the first time in a while I felt very proud to be an American and call this great country my home.   

The day was cold & crisp, but it was beautiful.  There was enthusiasm & comradre throughout the city with so many bright blue & yellow marathon jackets wandering around.  That evening we joined some thousands of other racers at the Pasta Feed.  We unexpectedly shared a table with another LDS couple, close to us in age.  However in their case, the wife was the runner.  We also reunited with Julie & Bob and enjoyed sharing stories and laughing together.  I have run hundreds of miles with Jenn, so it was great to finally spend some time getting to know her parents as well.   

Monday morning was race day.  Our friend Mark drove Matt into the subway station at 6 AM.  He rode the subway into town and caught a marathon bus out to the start line and athlete's village in Hopkinton.  He said it was incredible.  27,000 racers.  Wow.  The rest of us made our way to the 17th mile marker to watch and wait.  We saw the wheel chair racers.  We saw the elites.  Shalene Flanagan and Kara Goucher - so cool!!  And so fast!  I was telling Matt it's pretty crazy that the fastest athletes look like they are in the least pain.  If I was running that fast, I'd be in a lot of pain.  After the elite men came the masses.  Thousands and thousands.  I cheered and cheered, yelling out to those with labels I could read.  "Go Florida!"  "Go Navy!"  "Go Greater Boston Runner's Club!"  Many people, including Matt, had stickers with their name on it, so I could actually yell their name.  That was fun.  The entire time I tracked Matt on Runkeeper.  I knew he was getting close, but couldn't see him in the masses.  And suddenly he was there, pausing long enough to give me a hug & kiss.  We were both beaming.  He ran on and the rest of us boarded the T (subway) with about 5,000+other people to head to the finish line.  We were greeted with joyful chaos, everyone trying to get to the finish line to cheer on their loved ones.  Signs, cheers, cow bells, whistles.  The runners beamed with exhaustion as they rounded that final corner onto Boylston and the finish line.  The crowd was huge, but I was able to squeeze in and find a spot up front just as Matt rounded the corner.  I yelled so loud that the security guard next to me jokingly said, "Wow, glad he passed - you were louder than my radio!"  I could not BELIEVE his time.  After worrying about a hurt leg the past few weeks, he'd rocked the race, missing his PR by a mere 30 seconds.  It took us a while to maneuver through the crowds to meet up with him, but the reunion was wonderful.  3:10.10.  He was jittery & shivering from too many shot blocks & chilled sweat, but he was beaming.  Me too.  I am after all his number 1 fan.    
 

We said goodbye to our friends, who had a long drive back to Maryland, and began walking back toward the finish line to cheer on more racers.  As we headed that way, we got a text from our new friend Julie, who said she'd been able to watch Matt cross the finish line from the VIP Bleachers.  Her husband's run the Boston 10 times and this year was able to secure her the VIP Pass.  She had a fantastic view from the bleachers, but decided to head back to her room to warm up for a little while since her husband Bob wouldn't be finishing for another hour and a half or so.  We asked if we could use her room again for Matt to get changed, and she generously obliged.  We headed to their hotel, the Colonnade, located a convenient quarter mile from the finish line.  After chatting a few minutes, Matt took a long, hot shower. We were all grateful to get out of the crowds and warm up a bit.  We caught the elevator together, at about 2:50, ready to go cheer on her husband Bob and the final runners.  As we were ready to cross the street, a rescue vehicle raced in front of us, sirens blazing.  This is not uncommon in marathons though - there are injuries and people need to get to hospitals.  We made it across the street and parted ways - Julie heading toward the VIP Bleachers right by the finish line, Matt and I heading to the edge of Boylston street.  Matt's dad called to congratulate him and we continued to walk as they talked.  I started noticing that the crowds were all coming towards us and overhearing comments.  "Did you hear it?"  "Loud boom."  The closer we got to the finish line, the more frightened people looked, and it seemed everyone was on their phone.  Matt got off the phone with his dad and I said, "I think something happened.  Look around."  Finally we asked some bystanders who had stepped aside and they said, "We don't know exactly.  There were two explosions by the finish line."

We held hands tightly, turned away from the finish line, and decided immediately the best option was to try to go back to the hotel and hopefully reunite with Julie.  Neither of us has ever been in the midst of a crisis situation like this. Everywhere there was fear and chaos.  Everyone was trying to reach loved ones, but nobody could get through easily since phone lines were immediately jammed. Cell phone service was never shut down, but there was SO many people suddenly trying to call, that it was impossible for anything to go through.  As we walked quickly back to the hotel, there were many people crying, parents comforting scared children, and lots of emergency vehicles.  I was in awe of the police and first responders I saw.  I'm sure they were as afraid as anyone else, but they were doing their job directing traffic and clearing the streets as quickly as possible.  We went into the hotel bar, waiting to reconnect with Julie, and watched the news.  They wouldn't let anyone who didn't have a room key onto the elevators.  We were grateful she came down and got us.

We watched the news from their hotel room on the 5th floor in shock.  Such a beautiful celebration of strength & hard work, shattered by this act of violence.  How could this happen here?  Who would do this?  More importantly were our immediate concerns for those we knew still out there.  Her husband Bob, their other friends, and our friends Jenny & Mark whom we'd only separated from less than an hour before.  Over the next hour and half, texts were spottily sent and received.  How grateful we were when we finally received news that Bob was still a couple miles back and had been stopped at Kenmore Square, along with thousands of other racers that hadn't finished.  He was safe.  Another friend of theirs had finished a minute before the explosions.  He was safe.  Jenny & Mark's family had been evacuated from the subway, but was a distance away and safe.  When Bob finally returned, having walked the rest of the way, we were all so grateful to be reunited.  As the news unfolded, we watched, dumbfounded.  The next few hours in their hotel room were a blur.  We continued to hear sirens out the windows for quite a while and sat glued to the news.  How grateful we were for the many texts, facebook messages, and phone calls of concern, support, and love.  How grateful we were to be together and safe.

About 7:00 PM, Matt went to the lobby to see what was going on in the streets and if we'd be able to head back to our own suburban hotel in Woburn.  Bob & Julie's hotel was in the designated crime scene, so there was yellow tape, SWAT Team members, police, and hotel security everywhere.  They weren't letting anyone into the area, but they would let us out.  The streets were quiet, as most people were heeding the counsel to get home or to their hotels.  Though there was heightened security, our trip back to the hotel on subway, train, & shuttle bus, was uneventful.  We stumbled into the hotel restaurant, about 8:15, starving and exhausted.  Matt was wearing his Boston jacket, so several families stopped to talk to us.  Though dinner was in a sports bar & grill, most of the TVs were playing news of the tragedy.  At the end of the meal, we asked for our bill.  The waitress said, "No.  The meal's on us tonight.  We're so sorry for all of this.  It breaks all of our hearts."  We were truly touched.

Now back in our hotel room, I am counting the many tender mercies of the day.  Our children, have been safe and sound with Grandma and Grandpa at our home in Washington.  My friend Jenn sent us an email the day before we left, telling us we should try to hook up with her parents while we were there.  Matt had an amazing, memorable race.  Julie went back to her hotel room, instead of staying in the bleachers, and invited us to join her for a rest instead of going straight to the finish line.  Jenny & Mark made it, eventually, safely to their car.  Matt and I are together now, knowing we have many who love and support us, and we are safe.  The many prayers offered for us have been felt and I am so grateful for the tender mercies we have received on this day. 

As I mourn those who have suffered on this day, I am also grateful for the many great things this city and race stand for.  Freedom.  Determination.  Persistence.  Strength.  Overcoming the impossible.  My heart breaks.  But I know this city, this nation, will race on.