I am still not sure if I really know.
Mentally, I think I have separated the day into two completely different parts. Two parts that made up the longest day of my life thus far.
picking up my race kit! yay! |
Part One...(the Race Report)
It was a gorgeous, sunny morning. It was chilly, so I bundled in my hat, mittens, sweatshirt and pants over my race clothes. I decided to try out a new item on race day. Why not?! It was only a few hours of regret at the most if I hated it, right? I bought a "Flip-belt" at the expo. This thing was awesome. It is like a waistband that holds essentials, and it stays in place (mostly) without all of the jiggle that other belts seem to annoy me with. I wasn't carrying too much, but my hotel room card, a tiny bit of cash, a gel and a stinger waffle for fuel. I also carried my handheld bottle of gatorade.
Walking to the shuttle area at Boston Common |
After we finally sorted out our porta-potty needs, we headed to find a spot on the grass. It was like trying to scope out space at a very crowded beach. I sat on my race bag, and drank some water and ate a power bar (they were giving them out, along with bananas, water, and gatorade). We chatted, and soaked in all of the energy around us. There were runners dressed in costumes, (crazy idea if you ask me!) runners dressed in next to nothing, and runners bundled up. It is an amazing place to 'people-watch'.
They announced a moment of silence for the victims of Newtown, Connecticut. I don't think there was a dry eye in the entire village of runners.
After one more stop to the loo, we headed to our baggage check, then to the start. That is where my 'race friend' and I parted ways. I walked along the street to the starting line, excited to get going!
There were lots of people sorting themselves into their corrals, and the volunteers were amazing. So well organized and very positive and encouraging!
I was happy that my corral started at the crest of a slight hill near the start. It made me feel like I had some sort of advantage before I even got to the start (probably just a mental thing, but every little bit counts)! When we finally crossed the start, I felt a few tears well up in my eyes (man, this running thing is emotional at times?). I decided to stick to the right side of the road, as last year I ran on the left. A slight change in scenery might be good?
We ran along, as the crowds tirelessly cheered. We ran past bars, (lots of beer and cigarette smells) businesses, donut shops, and crazy cheering spectators. The sounds of cowbells, horns, clapping and cheering was so loud and amazing. I wore a tank top that said, "CANADA" across the front, so of course, that became my name for the day. So many people yelling, "Way to go, Canada!" or "Looking good, Canada!" It was quite great (until Captain America passed me later in the race. Whatever, Captain America!)
With every timing mat I passed, I felt more joy. I knew people at home were tracking my progress, and I was proud every time I 'checked in' with them though those timing mats!
My pace felt really great and sustainable. I was working, but not over-working myself. I was taking in gatorade intermittently, and a sip of water at about every other water station.
I looked forward to the Newton Fire Station, where Papa would be standing with a banana and some good cheering! Before long, I was rounding the turn, keeping my eyes open for him. It was soooo crowded in that spot! I didn't remember it being so crowded at that spot last year. Wow. When I finally saw him, I teared up (clearly it doesn't take me much to get teary!) and smiled for the camera he was holding! I grabbed my banana, gave him a quick kiss, and I was on my way. He yelled something about me being able to tackle the hills ahead.
There I am, on the right, looking fresh before those hills! |
It was the downhill that followed that hurt the most. Yeesh. By mile 23, my quads had enough. At that point, it became a mental game. I made many promises to myself, including "I never have to run another step in my life, as long as I get there". The cheering for "Canada" from the spectators turned to slight sympathy for me, I could tell. I was toughing it out, and I think it showed. I tried to smile, and gain some perspective. I was still doing very well. But I was not keeping up with the pace I had held onto for so much of the race, and that was a major disappointment. By the time I got to the famous Citgo sign at mile 25, I knew I could do it. one mile. one mile. one mile.
The crowds were getting louder. The finish was around the corner. I could see it. It was time to push as hard as I could. My poor arms pushed the most, as my legs just fumbled along. I smiled a real, genuine smile. I finished, and I even qualified to come back. 3:37:10!
I had a medal around my neck, and a fresh bottle of water in no time. I was so happy to be on my way to the hotel for a shower and maybe even a nap before our dinner reservations.
Part Two...(the rest)
AT&T had phones set up in a tent to call family and friends, to make meet-ups easier for runners. I contemplated forgoing making a call to Papa, but I thought I should just check in to be sure he was going to be at the hotel like we had planned for meet-up.
He told me he was standing outside of the hotel waiting for me, and that he wanted to take photos when I arrived back. I let him know I was on my way, and I would see him in a few minutes.
Our hotel was directly at the finish line. I started to attempt to go back toward the finish line to sneak under the grandstands to get to him, as it was a closer walk (these legs were looking for the shortest route!) but I decided that I would be devastated if I was told I couldn't get access that way, making me turn around and walk further. I went the path of least resistance, down a parallel street.
As I approached our hotel street, I heard the first, alarming sound. People around me audibly wondered what on earth that loud sound was. I could feel it under my feet. I thought maybe it was a canon going off somewhere near by, but thought it was very odd timing. Seconds later, the sound occurred again. And I worried. "Oh no." I thought, as all around me, people started to shift. Running. Concerned eyes.
Suddenly, I was in a nightmare. My husband was waiting for me, in the area the sound was coming from. I needed to find him. Now.
As I rushed down the street, people were running toward me, screaming, concerned looks, pushing me as I shoved my way through. I was repeating, "I have to find him" over and over. I scanned the crowd, looking for his familiar face.
It felt as though it took hours. In a matter of minutes, my eyes locked with his. He was waiting exactly where he said he would be, exactly waaay to close for comfort to everything that was happening. Everything that was going wrong. Police, emergency workers, fire fighters--all on the scene in an instant. Sirens from every direction.
We whisked up the stairs of the hotel to our room. I updated facebook quickly, hoping that it would ease any fears, if anyone heard the news (which I did not realize would travel so fast).
In what felt like mere minutes, we were evacuated by the police from our hotel. We grabbed our wallets and passports, and we were back at street level. Police directed us down the street, away from everything.
We ended up in another, larger hotel lobby. Where we waited.
We waited while watching people wander around, not knowing which way to go, or what was next. I refused to let my husband out of my sight (nope, not even to go to the washroom!). Very quickly, we met a woman who was all by herself, who was desperate to find her husband. She was clinging to her phone, hoping that somehow, someone would call and have an answer for her. He had not finished the race when it happened, but he was close. She was hoping that he was on the scene helping others, as he is a doctor, and he is calm and collected in those situations.
We tried to calm the fears that we didn't want to discuss. After a tense few hours, she received a text from an unknown number, that was her husband telling her to stay put, and that he was ok. Thank goodness. We hugged, cried, and felt so much relief in that moment.
When he arrived back at the hotel, we were in awe of this humble man. A runner. A doctor. A selfless person that although he was slightly injured (upon falling down in a crowd of runners when the second explosion happened) he immediately started helping others around him. He had come very close to finishing the race, but "that doesn't even matter," he said.
We found our way to the hotel restaurant for some food (best meal I have ever eaten...I was so hungry) and there, we stayed for another couple of hours with our new friends. In this tragedy, we found some normalcy in sharing a meal with this couple that will forever be in our hearts.
The hotel had made these cupcakes...I had to take a photo (and yes, I ate it) |
Later in the morning, the police allowed us to return to our original hotel. We were able to gather our things. Suddenly, "things" did not matter one bit. I just wanted to be home with our family.
I can say with certainty that I am devastated. I am devastated that within seconds, so many lives have been altered in so many ways. I am devastated that anyone would have to endure pain and suffering in this way. I feel incredibly lucky to have the amazing support from our friends, colleagues, and family that immediately were reaching out to us both, with love and concern (not to mention all of those who were supporting me as I was running as well!).
I wrote a bit about the day over at iRun (and it is way more concise, I promise) as well...
you can read it HERE
First off, congratulations on a great run - wow! It must of felt awesome after the heat of 2012. Thank you for sharing your thoughts of the day in such a well-written recap. I think it is important to reflect on both the good and the bad of the day as part of your moving forward process. I am happy you two are both safe and at home with your family. Best wishes for many great races ahead!
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