Category: RUN

I am a Boston Marathon finisher.  I never thought that I would be able to say that, but after running through some of the harshest conditions for a race I have ever run in, and possibly the harshest weather in the race’s history, I finished the 122nd running of the Boston Marathon.  It wasn’t easy getting there, and I should have known it wasn’t going to be easy being there.  But it made for a lifetime memory.

Here’s a marathon worthy recap of what got me there, the few days beforehand, and the race itself.

 

The Pursuit of Boston

When I began running in 1989, marathons weren’t even really on my mind.  I started to run mainly to keep my weight down, and because I was bored.  I bought a pair of MacGregor brand running shoes from Kmart and put on a t-shirt and gym shorts and started an evening ritual of running around the apartment complex.  A mile or two turned into five.  The crappy MacGregor’s were replaced with Nike’s.  It wasn’t long until  I entered a couple of road races and caught the competitive running bug.  I was hooked.  Within a year and a half, I ran my first marathon in 1991.  That lead to a few more, and I eventually came to know about the grand daddy of all marathons, Boston.  I wanted to someday run it.

But they don’t just let anyone who wants to run it do so.  You have to earn your way in, you have to qualify.  Oh sure, nowadays the fourth and final corral holds about 7,000 charity runners who don’t have to meet the qualifying standards that the others meet.  They have to raise a significant amount of money for a charity, which is a noble thing.  I will gladly run along side them and congratulate them as a finisher. But for those who want to count themselves as one of the select few, meeting the standard that the Boston Athletic Association (BAA) sets for it’s marathon is the only way to go.  It was the only way I wanted in, but there was a catch – I was no where near fast enough.

Getting in isn’t easy.  In order to keep the race competitive, the BAA has time standards which you have to meet.  In the early days, the standards were simple and very fast – only a very select few could do it.  As interest in the race grew, and the race itself grew larger, the BAA set the standards we have today, standards they could change any time they want to.  For me, a male runner in the 50 to 54 age group, I had to be under 3.5 hours.  Over the years I had perfected finishing marathons typically around three hours and 45 – 50 minutes, which meant a younger me probably had to run 30 minutes  or more faster than I was able to do.  It seemed impossible to me.  But as you age, the standards get a little bit slower.  As I neared 50 years old, the standard started getting closer to my ability.  I was now about 8 minutes away from qualifying, and I was also getting faster.

The possibility of actually qualifying for the Boston Marathon started to become realistic for me when I made some changes and additions to my running.  First off, I stopped winging it and started following a marathon running plan.  Concepts like periodized training, and building mileage gradually with the addition of speed work were methods I had not known of or I had ignored in the past.  I usually just ran and ran as comfortably hard as I could.  That only got me so far.  Training with purpose improved my times significantly.  Secondly, I became a triathlete and an Ironman.  Ironman training was very detailed and methodical as well, and the addition of the cross training activities of swimming and cycling made me more of a complete all-around athlete and runner.  Third, I started a running streak in 2015, running at least a mile every day.  It added more miles to my weekly totals, taught my body how to deal with a large workload, and how to adapt to tired legs and endure.  Lastly, after completing my first of three Ironman races, I started to believe in myself.  I believed I could do it.  I was very close.

In 2015 I finally qualified, running a 3:28:19 at a course known for being fast, the Chicago Marathon.  It was bittersweet however, because not only do you have to meet the qualifying time, there are too many runners who do so than the Boston Marathon can host, so they take the fastest of the qualifiers first until the field fills up.  I missed the cut by 28 seconds.  Disappointing, but I knew that after getting that rejection to my application in September of 2016 that I would be running Chicago again the following month.  Now I was determined.  I had finished Ironman Lake Placid in July 2016, which would also prove to be a wild card in my build up to Chicago.  I was a lean, mean running machine and ready to do it.  At the 2016 Chicago Marathon, we were given a beautiful day for a race and I improved my time to 3:25:08 – 4:51 minutes under the qualifying time.  I was in.

 

Race Week – April 12 – 16, 2018  

Here are the pre-race week activities.

 

Thursday, April 12

Kari and I flew in on Thursday and I was already a bundle of nerves because of the forecasted weather, and the fact Ashley and Rebecca were flying on their own for the first time.  But thankfully I have the best life partner in the world, Kari, and I let her handle all of the side circuses that were occurring.  We tried to settle in and wait for the whole crew to show up.

The flight in will always be memorable because of this dope I was sitting next to.  He was definitely trying to prove he was the alpha dog, hogging the armrest in the manner he was doing.  He also wanted to be upgraded to first class and wasn’t getting the satisfaction he was seeking.  He finally got up and pretty much tossed his seatbelt into my lap.  I flipped him off as he went into first class, and took his seatbelt and fastened it back together.  I thought he was gone, but he got rejected in first class and made his way back to his seat.  I had already placed my elbow on the arm rest and decided I wasn’t budging.  He started pushing very hard.  I had to apply pressure consistently back until I decided that I’m a better person.  I moved and focused on my wife instead.

When we finally deplaned, I headed to the bathroom and the only urinal available was next to this jerk.  I waited for another spot to open.

We got our bags and took a cab to our hotel.  The slightly annoying rush hour traffic was only trumped by the fact that the trip from the airport to the hotel was mostly through tunnels.  Pretty boring, but we made it.

After check-in, we headed over to the finish line, which was about 2-3 blocks away.  I wanted to see Boylston Street where the race finishes, and visit the running stores there. Upon entering the store I was impressed with the history lining the walls.  Lots of old pictures, old running shoes and the like.  And then Boston Billy walked in.

I couldn’t believe that multiple Boston Marathon winner Bill Rodgers was in the store at the same time.  He came in to drop of a framed photo to the staff, made some quick small talk with them and was gone like he was making a break from the lead pack for the win. Next time, I will assert myself and ask for a photo!

After some more finish line area sightseeing, Kari and I opted for dinner.  What do you want to eat in Boston?  Lobster, of course.  We inquired at the hotel and a local place was suggested, but when I saw the prices, this guy who grew up knowing money didn’t grow on trees opted for the lobster roll sandwich instead.  It was still lobster, and it was pretty good.

I had my first freakout of the weekend walking back to the hotel.  The restaurant was cold inside, and I was also cold from having walked around.  By the time we made it back to the hotel I was shivering.  If I was shivering now, how was I going to handle race day, with it’s cold and rainy forecast?  I got back and warmed up and watched some Bruin playoff hockey to get my mind off of it.

 

Friday, April 13

Upon getting up, I opted for a one mile treadmill run in the hotel gym to keep my running streak alive.  After showering up, we tried another suggested restaurant for breakfast that really wasn’t built for breakfast.  We should have opted for a Dunkin’ Donuts, as they are practically on every street corner in Boston.

My life long buddy Dave and his wife Carla were the first of the Cheer Crew to arrive.  Dave wanted to join in on the fun at the race expo and check out the excitement.  John Hancock, the major sponsor of the race provided a bus from downtown to the race expo and we took it over there.  As race expos go, this was pretty typical.  Stand in line, prove who you are, get your bib number, get your event shirt, walk through the expo and buy junk.  We did just that.  Kari was a trooper and stood in line to pay for the $300 worth of Adidas junk I wanted.  The must have at this race is the Celebration Jacket, which oddly enough people wear as soon as the receipt is printed.  I wanted no part of that until the race was over, but I did make sure I got mine.

After the expo, Kari and I met up with Dave and Carla at a burger joint halfway between our hotels for a late lunch.  My burger hit the spot and everyone was excited about the evening plans.  Kari had the great idea of taking in a Red Sox game, and fortunately for us we were able to get great tickets for the Sox vs. the Orioles on the nicest day of the weekend.  After a trip back to the hotel for a while, we all walked over to the oldest baseball park in the league, Fenway Park.  Not sure why I expected it to be more run down than it was, but it was a really great looking ball park.  The seats though were designed for the small people.  My 6’4″ buddy was a little scrunched, but we endured.  Red Sox won 7-3.  After the game we made the easy walk back to our hotels.

 

Saturday, April 14

I needed to burn off some energy, so the first thing Kari and I did was get dressed and run three miles around the area, including down by the banks of the River Charles.  Very nice riverfront they have there, with a nicely paved path.  Saw some serious runners doing the same thing we were doing, only doing it much faster.  The weekend also included a 5K race, and there were several runners heading there as we made our way through Boston.

Upon getting back, we opted for an overpriced breakfast at the hotel, which at least was better than what we had the day before.  Then we hopped into a taxi and headed to the airport to pick up our two daughters.  While waiting there I saw a girl carrying around an Ironman Louisville 2017 backpack and told her that I had done the race as well.  We shared stories of that race and talked about our nervous energy about the marathon.

With the girls collected and lunch finally consumed after a lengthy delay waiting for our food, we did some more sightseeing.  We walked the finish line area and went inside the Boston Public Library, which had some really cool old murals and stuff.

It had been 5 years since the 2013 finish line bombings in Boston.  Lots of events and memorials occurring over the weekend.

A highlight of the trip included a Boston Duck Boat tour, which I really enjoyed.  Our guide was funny and made sure we saw most of the important sights of old Boston.

Dinner was at California Pizza Kitchen, which was accessible by hamster trails from our hotel, meaning we didn’t have to walk outside.  I wasn’t expecting much, but the loaded baked potato soup was outstanding, as well as the pizza I had.

Back to the room to relax and turn in for the night.  I woke up around 2:30am with some acid indigestion, which I always feel like it is a heart attack happening.  Kari woke up as well and brought me some Pepcid or something which did the trick.

 

Sunday, April 15

Back to the hotel gym for a mile on the treadmill first thing in the morning.  We ate breakfast again at the hotel, and waited to meet up with the rest of my Cheer Crew, my in-laws Gary and Darla, and my buddy John.

We all ate at an Italian place near Paul Revere’s home and did a little walking around the area.  We also took the Trolley Tour, which also highlighted several great spots in Boston.  It’s a nice tour because you can ride and get off at various spots and hop back on at any time.  The only thing I wanted to do was to walk the Freedom Trail, a self-guided tour of Boston’s historical area, but I wanted to limit walking at this point, and the weather was getting cold, wet and crummy.  A sign of what was to come.

Back at the hotel I planned out my strategy for what to wear the following morning and for the race.  It took a while, but I finally decided on using various layers with the option to shed whatever I wouldn’t need during the race.  This is what I chose:  a sleeveless tri top, a very tight long sleeve cycling jersey with pockets, a long sleeve tech shirt, a polyester windbreaker for the top half;  a pair of track tights/shorts, long running pants, calf compression sleeves for warmth, and a pair of socks;  a pair of cheap liner type gloves and a pair of nicer Brooks gloves.  For my head I opted for a visor and a beanie.

Before bed I had a good chat with Ben about pre-race nerves and then it was lights out.  One of the nice things about the Boston Marathon is that it starts mid-morning, so I didn’t have to get up super early.  That was a good thing, because I didn’t really sleep very well.

 

Marathon Monday, April 16

Even though it’s Patriots Day in New England, the locals and in particular anyone associated with the race refers to it as Marathon Monday.  The alarm went off at 5:20am, and I was already awake.  I got up and took a peek outside the window.  Yep, just like they had predicted for the past two weeks, it was raining and it looked cold and miserable.  If it had been any other race, I might have passed.  But knowing how much it meant to me to get there, the amount of cash I dropped on being there (!), and the fact that my Cheer Crew had also came to provide support, there was no chickening out.

After the bathroom, I started in on fueling myself for the race.  A banana, a bagel and a coffee was a good start.  I was concerned for my feet, as my fingers and toes will prune up in the shower.  I decided to coat my feet first with Skin Glide, a lotion form of Body Glide.  Then I hit the entire bottom of the feet with Body Glide.  Finally, I added copious amounts of Vaseline all around my toes.  That combo has worked pretty well in the past for most marathons and Ironman races.  I got all the aforementioned running junk on and then donned the rain gear.  The marathon is a point to point race and you are bused out to Hopkinton, Massachusetts and wait until the start.  That means an hour long bus ride to the high school there, and then an hour or two of sitting around waiting for your wave to start.  All of which meant, I was going to be doing that in the rain and cold.

To keep me warm and dry for the morning commute to the start line I was glad I layered up with a sweatshirt and pullover, along with a zippered/hooded rain coat.  For pants, I found a pair of “sauna pants” in Walmart for $8 which were perfect.  I covered my shoes with crime scene booties that I stole from work.  I hope my boss doesn’t read this far.

The bus ride sucked.  Having all that gear on made me warm, but I wasn’t going to complain.  School busses are designed for little kids, and leg room was at a minimum and was uncomfortable to say the least.  I tried to make small talk with my seat mate, but he advised he knew little English and told me he was German.  I told him that I had been to Munich, and he said he had qualified for Boston at Berlin.  He was eating “brot und wasser”, which are literally the only German words I know.  I should have said that, he might have been impressed.

We finally arrived at the high school and we were immediately met by the most friendliest of volunteers, cheerfully directing us where to go.  I’m still scratching my head as to why any of the volunteers or spectators showed up on such a miserable day.  I guess New Englanders are a hardy bunch, and they are definitely proud of their marathon.

It was raining pretty hard.  I made my way to one of the lines for the scores of portable toilets lining the field.  The wait was easily 20 minutes, but once inside I made sure I took my time and got the job done.  I hated to leave the shelter of the port-a-potty, but I figured one of the three large tents would offer some good shelter.  Wrong.

It was pretty crowded, and the drier grassy spots were filled with runners from Wave 1.  Once they were called to the start, it cleared out pretty well, and I found a mat/blanket thing to sit on until it was my turn to head over.  I ate another bagel and most of a Clif Bar and drank a little Gatorade while I waited.

At 9:45am or so, the announcer made the dreaded announcement:  “Wave 2 Runners!  It’s your turn to start heading to the start line!”  I waited about 10 minutes and then made my way to a set of port-a-potties that were behind the tents that no one seemed to be using.  There was no wait.  I’m glad I made that last stop, and then I trekked through the mud to the street for the 3/4 mile walk to the starting line.

As we walked there were ample opportunities to shed the pre-race clothing that people had donned to keep warm.  I figured I would hold on to mine as long as I could.  I finally got near the corral entry point and decided to shed the shoe covers (NO!!!) and the vinyl rain pants I was wearing (NO!!!).   I kept the rain coat hoping to stay warm and a little dryer.  There was no turning back now.

Small talk was made, announcements were announced, and I felt the group moving forward.  We were starting.  And the wind, rain and now a wave of emotions hit me.  I was crossing the start line of the Boston Marathon.

 

Miles 1 through 5:  Hopkinton – Ashland – Framingham

“I’m finally here.  I’m running Boston”

We runners tend to have a lot of deep thoughts when running.  I’m certainly no exception.  Most of my ideas for my blog posts come from runs.  And I can tell you, I had plenty of deep thoughts on this run.  Mostly negative.  I’ll share what I can remember.

The first mile was exactly like I had been warned.  Yes, warned.  It’s a tight, two lane road that is all down hill.  Most of the advice from others was to not to start fast on those first down hills.  As I started, I gave some quick reflection as to my race plan for the day.  I had options.  I could try to run hard to justify my being there.  Nah.  The hard work was getting into the race, there was no requirement to justify anything.  I could run hard and try to re-qualify for next year.  Yeah, right.  Even though I would gain an extra ten minutes of cushion for qualifying just by turning 55 in the fall, I think I will take a pass on this kind of torture next year.  I could take my time and take a bunch of selfies, or even go live on Facebook.  In this downpour?  Not going to happen.  What I wanted to do was run faster than the Kenyans, and get this misery over with quick.  That is very definitely not happening, even if I wanted it to.  I decided to take it easy and run comfortable, keep track of the little nagging pain in the sole of my foot that has been an issue for a few weeks now, and just try to stay dry and warm.

“Puddles are everywhere.”

I spent the first mile also trying not to keep pace with those evenly matched runners around me and not get swept along at the groups’ pace.  Every once in a while someone would yell “PUDDLE”, but there were so many that after the first 5 minutes, my feet were soaked and I stopped worrying about stepping in any puddles.  I did try to stay in the middle of the road where the crown of the road meant less water, but it didn’t matter.

“My legs are getting soaked”

It was nice having the blue rain coat on at the beginning because it was doing its job of keeping me dry, but since the rain was running down it that meant my running tights were getting soaked.  By Mile 3, I stopped for probably a minute and struggled to get the rain soaked tights off of me while still wearing my running shoes.

“There’s running junk everywhere.”

People were tossing off all kinds of good running gear.  I had already lost my tights and I was contemplating tossing the rain coat.  By the fourth mile I needed an energy gel, and couldn’t get to it under the rain coat.  Bye-bye rain coat.

“This sucks.”

It wasn’t long after losing the rain gear that I decided to take off a pair of cheap liner type gloves I had on under my main gloves.  My hands were getting warm and I didn’t think I needed them any more.  I got my good gloves off, tossed the other gloves and went to put the main gloves back on and realized I only had one.  I had dropped one by accident.  I turned around and saw it laying about 10 feet back.  I would have to act like a salmon and swim up stream and get it.  How apropos.

I retrieved my glove and immediately the wind blew my visor off.  Time to back track up the river again.

 

Miles 6 through 10:  Framingham – Natick

“This quite possibly might be the worst thing I have ever experienced.”

It was getting real.  Six miles in and 20 miles to go.  In the worst weather I have ever run in.  I had really hoped to enjoy the crowds, the landmarks, and whatever other experiences the course would offer, but I spent most of it with my head down, shading my face from the 20 mph head winds and rain.

“Looking good!?  Thanks for shouting that to me from your sheltered front porch, lady.”

Somewhere in this section my watch alerted me to a text that Kari sent informing me that they would be near the 14 mile mark, on the left hand side.

“Yay!  Something to look forward to.”

 

Miles 6 through 10:  Natick – Wellesley

“Welcome to NAY-TICK” said the guy on the side of the road as we strolled into the town of Natick.

“Now I know how to pronounce Natick.”

 

Miles 11 through 15:  Wellesley

After getting through some of the town of Natick, we ran through a pretty heavily tree lined area.  Lots of rolling hills but pretty boring.  Then I heard it – a distant roar, still probably at least another mile away, but I could hear it.  I was getting closer to the ladies of Wellesley College and the famous “Scream Tunnel.”

Right around the half way point you pass through the campus of Wellesley College, an all women’s school with notable grads such as Hillary Clinton, Diane Sawyer, and Madeline Albright, that comes out to the course and screams their lungs out.  Can you image Madeline Albright as a college girl screaming at marathoners?!  I didn’t know this as I ran through, but it’s kind of a right of passage for graduation for the girls to get kissed by a runner.  Had I known that, I might have spent a little more time there.  I’m just kidding.  I did high-5 many of them with a big smile on my face.  It was a huge pick me up.

“I’m half way there!”

Immediately after leaving the Scream Tunnel I remembered that Kari and the Cheer Crew would be somewhere around the 14 mile mark, so I started scanning the sides of the road.  Usually I avoid this because it drains me mentally, but I only had to look for them on the left hand side, so I slid over to the left more and kept looking.

“Damn, the town of Wellesley goes on forever.”

It wasn’t long until I saw the gang.  Another emotional moment for me.  Having Kari, Ashley, Rebecca, Gary, Darla, and my two best buddies Dave and John there standing in the rain waiting for me was such a great feeling.  I stopped and gave them all a big group hug.  I may have mentioned to John that this was the worst thing I have ever experienced.  I didn’t spend a long time there because I knew if I did I might get chilled or possibly cramp up.  So, I said goodbye and headed down the road.

 

 

 

Miles 16 through 20:  Newton

“Mile 16 – only 10 to go.  Only 10.”

The next town was Newton, known for a couple of things on the course.  First there is a right turn right by the big Newton Fire Station.  Lots of activity going on there.  The crowds had picked up again and you could feel the excitement.  The second thing about Newton are the hills.  They aren’t hard, but they just keep rolling at you.  And you keep thinking that the biggie is coming.

 

Miles 21 through 25:  Newton – Brookline – Boston

“This must be Heartbreak Hill.  Whatever.”

Between mile 20 and 21 I finally came to the most famous part of the the Boston Marathon course, Heartbreak Hill.  They say many a runner has lost the race here, but for a middle of the pack guy like me, I just shortened my stride and made it up in no time. It’s only about a half mile long, but I wasn’t attacking it like an elite runner set on winning would do.  There was this one old guy who passed me going up it chanting “YES, YES, YES!”  He was determined to kick Heartbreak Hill’s ass.  He did.

“This sucks.”

“I don’t think I can feel my quads any more.”

Somewhere around the 22 mile area I realized that I really couldn’t feel my legs any longer.  They were cold, sore and numb.  I had been seeing a lot of runners stopped along the course at this point walking or stopped and stretching their quads.  I tried to take a status check of my legs, but all I could determine was that they were still moving and I didn’t think they were going to cramp up.

“I think I’ll skip this last gel.  It’s only 5K to go.”

I thought about the fact that there was only 3 miles to go and that I was feeling pretty good, so I decided to skip fishing a gel out of my back pocket, which had been a hassle all race long.  Kind of a mistake.

“I wish I had eaten that gel.”

After getting by Heartbreak Hill, we had been going downhill pretty steadily with some pretty good drops.  My quads were killing me.

Around the 25 mile mark I was starting to wonder where I was, I knew I was now in Boston but wasn’t sure.  I had been watching my step quite a bit, as there were plenty of trolley rail type tracks in the pavement and lots of small lakes of water on the road.  I took a second to look up and there it was – the giant CITGO sign.  I almost missed it!  I had made it to Boston.  I looked over and saw Fenway standing there empty, not because the game on Patriot’s Day would have been over by now, but because the game had been rained out.  I knew it was just a mile or so more to go.

 

Mile 25 to the Finish:  Commonwealth Boulevard to Boylston Street 

Running down Commonwealth Boulevard reality was starting to hit.  We were almost there.  Along this stretch there were a few little jogs to the right and then back straight.  Not sure why, as they were slightly annoying, but the scenery was getting better.  It won’t be long.

“Right on Hereford, Left on Boylston.”

As I said that to myself in my head, I repeated it out loud.  “Right on Hereford, Left on Boylston.  The last and most notable of directions that this fairly straight shot course had, and I said them over again.  Once on Boylston, the crowds came alive.  The uninitiated may not have known, but it’s about a third of a mile down Boylston.  On one hand I wanted this race to be over, but on the other I wanted it to last a long, long time.

 

“I am a Boston Marathon Finisher!”

 

The Finish Area and the Marathon Back to the Hotel

Emotionally, I was ecstatic.  I was smiling and very happy to have finished my first Boston Marathon.  But I was also ready to be done with being outside.  I felt really good for some reason.  Normally I would kind of pass the Medical Tent slowly until I was sure I was good, but I just blew past it.  I found the medals and had a lady put one around my neck.  My next stop was to get a mylar wrap to keep warm.  I was surprised however to be given a really nice and thick rain poncho with the marathon logo all over it.  A firefighter standing by the fence helped me get it on, and I then I saw the mylar wraps and wrapped one around my waist under the poncho.

My plan was to retrieve the sweatpants and sweatshirt that I had dropped off in the morning at the Gear Tent, but I said forget it.  I felt pretty good and I wasn’t shivering, so I decided to head to the family meet-up area.

“WHERE THE HELL IS MY FAMILY?!?!”

I made it to the family meet-up area, but apparently my family didn’t.  They weren’t there.  I figured that maybe they were having trouble getting through the crowds, and my path to the area was pretty short.  Fortunately, there was some shelter there and one of the volunteers helped me get my phone out.  Kari called and informed me that they weren’t back into Boston yet.  Uh-oh.  There was no one there to help me get back.  I was on my own.

I asked the volunteer to show me how to get back to the Marriott Copley Hotel, and she told me which way to go.  So I went.  I got about 2-3 blocks and then the phone rang again.  It was Kari.

“You’re going the wrong way.”

“What the FUCK!!!”

Kari was following me via the Find My iPhone feature.  I was lost, no one was there to help me, and I was starting to shiver.  Fortunately, I pulled my shit together and let Kari turn me around and get me going the correct way.  It wasn’t long until I saw a landmark I was familiar with, and I headed indoors to begin the walk through the mall that lead back to the hotel.  I got back to the hotel lobby at the same time everyone else did.  Hooray!  All was good again.

Back at the hotel room, it was a frantic scramble.  I was trying to get undressed to take a hot shower, but was too sore to be very efficient at it.  And Kari and the girls were gathering their bags to hop in a cab to get to the airport to catch their plane home.  We all figured our issues out, said goodbye and parted ways.

“The last thing I want to do is to warm myself up with more water.”

After being wet for the last four plus hours, I didn’t want anything to do with water.  But my best bet for a quick warm up was to take a hot shower.  It did the trick.  I toweled off, got dressed, including putting on my new Boston Marathon Celebration jacket, and cranked the room heat to 85 degrees.

Kari got back from the airport and we headed back over to the California Pizza Kitchen.  I had some really good tortilla soup and split a pepperoni pizza with Kari.  Plenty of finishers in the restaurant reliving the race.  It was a good finish to the day.

 

THANKS

Many, many thanks to pass out to everyone who cheered me on.  My co-workers Carl (always my Number 1 fan!), Julie, Mary, Tracy, Micah, Lou, and all of the gang that took even a polite interest in my path to this day.

I can’t forget all of those friends on Facebook that offered such great words of encouragement and congratulations.  I have read each post and they are greatly appreciated.

Thanks to my daughters Ashley and Rebecca, for being brave enough to get on a plane by themselves for the first time, and miss some school just to stand in the rain to watch me run by for 10 seconds.  I’m glad we got to see some real American history in Boston.

A huge, huge, HUGE thank you to Ben for getting Ashley from school and making sure the girls got to and from the airport.  I felt bad that my number one favorite runner couldn’t be there, but I certainly carried his running spirit with me.  Let’s qualify at Chicago in October and run Boston together in 2020!

Gary and Darla – thank you for coming up from sunny and warm and dry Florida to watch me in that crazy weather.  I think you probably would have preferred a tropical storm to that mess.  Thanks for flying instead of driving as well.  Smart move.

Oh my God!  My life long friends – Dave and John – and Dave’s wife Carla, thank you so much for sharing this with me.  I can’t tell you how much it meant to me.  Your presence made for a fun weekend, as well as got my mind off of the impending doom that was coming.  I got through the race bolstered by your presence.

And finally, thanks to my awesome partner in life Kari.  She is by far the most important part of my journey in the marathon that is my life.  Thanks for carrying me through not only for 26.2 miles, but also for almost 26.2 years.  I love you.

“Thank You!”