All in for Boston Part 3

Post Race

After a long walk to the bus where my bag was stored, a struggle to get my warm clothes on, even after donning, I was still shivering with cold and fatigue.  I turned on my cell phone that had been in my bag to see a text from Bailey saying we couldn’t meet at the public library right next to the finish because it was blocked off for VIPs.  I called him and we tried to brainstorm where to meet because I was confused as to where I was and was having a hard time giving him directions.  Finally we decided to meet in an area they have designated/marked with signs for families to reunite. 

I got to that block and was looking around for Bailey – surrounded by happy runners and families all celebrating, hugging and talking.  All of the sudden there were two incredibly loud blasts/booms one right after the other.  The crowd immediately fell silent and we all looked at each other.  Immediately I felt my stomach drop and I started screaming for Bailey because I knew something very bad had just happened.  My first thought was someone had bombed a building near the finish a block away.  I saw Bailey looking around frantically, grabbed him in a hug and said, (not my best parenting moment), “What the f^ck was that?”  He said he didn’t know and then we saw a woman running toward us from the finish screaming that there were bombs and we all had to get away.

"Get Away from the Finish Area!"

Bailey grabbed my bag and my arm to help me walk as every muscle was so incredibly stiff and we started heading with the crowd in the direction away from the finish.  I immediately called my friend Eileen in MN, as I knew she’d be sitting at her desk tracking my race, and told her that we think there had been a bombing, but that we didn’t know which way to run to safety.  Sirens announcing ambulances, marked and unmarked cars all started screaming toward the finish.  Bailey and I stopped at street corners, trying to orient ourselves, taking moments to check Twitter – and we learned that there had indeed been two bombs, that 50-60 people were down, CPR was being administered and that there were reports of multiple unexploded devices in the area.  We felt paralyzed as we didn’t know where to go or what to do.  I immediately posted on my Fbook page that we were ok because my phone was already starting to ring with friends from home and I couldn’t spare battery life talking with them, or time when we were trying to determine how to get to safety.  So many friends from MN texted me … one of the first, ironically, was the deputy fire chief from Oakdale, MN and I described to him the chaos that was happening.  He was great at sending calm texts back telling him to let him know if there was anything he could do. 

I heard back from my friend, Eileen, who told us to stay away from the marathon area, trash cans, etc. because there were possibly additional bombs. If we saw a trash can, we crossed to the other side of the street all the while stopping to hug each other when either one of us would become overwhelmed, talking with other people trying to determine where we should go or sending out texts to friends we knew were in the area to make certain they were safe.  Every minute or two I would think of someone else from whom we hadn’t heard and who possibly could be finishing at the time the bombs exploded.   I’d start crying as we texted to see if they were ok.  I really lost it when I remembered our friend Adam, Sonya and a bunch of other Minnesotans were right near where we had heard the second bomb had exploded.  Thankfully my friend Kelli texted me that they were ok. 

At this point we didn’t know where to go.  I had my driver’s license and some cash on me, but heard restaurants were evacuating as they didn’t want people congregated in large groups.  We heard the T was shut down as I had been thinking we’d try to get to Newton to be with Lena and her family, or Arlington, where several of my childhood friends had been posting that we were welcome to seek shelter.  Even in the midst of the chaos, I was so incredibly touched that people whom I’ve not seen in 20+ years were reaching out to us with offers of help.  As we wandered, not knowing if we were safe, I mentioned to Bailey, “This is what it must feel like to live in Israel – where you are never certain that you are safe, just walking down the street.”  There was a constant stream of emergency vehicles streaming toward the finish area still.

 Finally we stopped at a street corner and wondered if it would be ok to head back to our hotel, knowing that it was a mere blocks away from the second blast.  I asked a man who obviously lived in the area for directions and he said he didn’t think it was a good idea as there were still reports of unexploded devices.  A bomb sniffing dog had just inspected the street corner where we were, so Bailey and I decided that was probably the best place for us to stop while we determined our next steps.  I called my parents and asked them to call our hotel to see if it was safe to return there – if the dogs had checked it for bombs, and said we’d wait there until we heard back from them.  Meanwhile horrible images were coming over our Twitter feeds and we knew this was, despite our hopes and prayers,  a mass casualty event.  As I saw ambulances continuing to arrive, I was so torn – wanting to be with Bailey, to keep him safe, yet knowing I could be using my nursing skills to help with the casualties.  It truly was an awful feeling, because I so wanted to help, but the mother in me knew that I could not bring Bailey into that area, not knowing what danger still lurked there.  I do not cope well with feeling helpless when I knew I could and should help those people … it was a horrendous feeling. 

Sweetest Moment

As we were walking, I saw a women holding the leash of the most beautiful, gentle golden retriever dog, amidst the chaos.  Never before have I been so incredibly drawn to an animal.  I said to Bailey, “I need to pat that dog.”  We went over and I looked at the woman, who smiled sadly as I approached.  I said, “We really need to pet a dog right now, it’s all we can think to do … would you mind?”  She responded “yes” so kindly and gently.  There are some dogs who just know what to do when someone is upset – and this golden was one of those.  He looked up at us with the most gentle of brown eyes … I just wanted to bury my face in his fuzzy neck and sob.  We thanked the woman and her pup and walked on… how I wish I had taken a picture or gotten her name so I could thank her properly.  I hope she knows how much her precious pet helped Bailey and me hold ourselves together. 

My dad texted me (in and of itself a miracle because he doesn’t know how to text all that well!) that they had talked with the hotel people and that it was safe to return.  Of course at this point, Bailey and I were hopelessly lost.  I could feel myself becoming super hypoglycemic, so we stopped to grab a Coke for me so I could keep walking.  Bailey said he had to pee so badly, but we couldn’t find any public restrooms.  At one point I said, “You know, the police are a tad busy, I don’t think you’re going to get in trouble if you have to water a tree at this point.”  It was a much-needed moment of levity! 

Finally we found a police officer who was sitting in his car in an intersection to enable rescue vehicles to get through.  I asked him how we could safely return to our hotel.  He was so kind and spent a long time thinking about the best route to take us away from the command center that had been established. At this point, I had finished the marathon about two hours ago, and was feeling pretty awful physically.  Bailey was so great, holding me up, trying to keep me warm, all the while processing the chaos.  I kept saying, “I put you in harm’s way because you came with me to watch a race.”  I remember even having a passing thought in the days prior to the race (when Bailey had joked that he was having marathon anxiety dreams for me because he dreamt the North Koreans had bombed the race) that certainly this marathon would be one for some crazy to make a “statement” by causing an incident.  Never did I imagine how prophetic Bailey’s dream would be – and his dream still haunts me almost a week later…

To be continued…

All in for Boston: Part 2

MARATHON MORNING 

I met a bunch of MN friends to ride the bus out to Hopkinton together early in the morning.  My wave didn’t start until 10:20, but we have to board the buses at about 6 am, so it definitely makes for a long day.  Watching all of the runners converge on the Boston Common with their BAA issued yellow bags slung over their shoulders, clutching coffee, Gatorade, snacks … all heading toward an endless line of school buses truly is spectacular!  Our group ended up squishing together at the very back of the bus which of course led to many stories about mischief on the bus as we made our way out to Hopkinton.

We arrived at the Athlete’s Village, which is like a big party … music, food, announcements and an excited buzz in the air!  We settled down with a big group of friends from my online Boston group .. sharing hugs, race strategy and goals, hugs and smiles.  The announcer reminded us not to pet the dogs “working” the village and informed us that there was one yellow Labrador there that we could pet.  We joked about us all being so nervous pre-race that the B.A.A. had arranged for a therapy dog for us!  Little did we know how prophetic these announcements would be.

Before we knew it, our wave was being called to the Start corral.  I ran into several friends as my MN buddies and I walked to the corrals.  My friend Leah commented, “Do you know everyone who runs this race??”  It does truly feel like a family reunion as I have come to know more people each year! 

The gun sounded and we were off!  I ran with Mike and Leah for awhile, but soon they were hitting paces that were a bit fast for my comfort level early in the race and I was determined to stick with my plan to go out slowly for fear of my tibia bothering me.

This is the greatest race because the spectators have a block party for 26.2 miles along the course.  I

Oldest Fire House in Boston
(just down the street from the Finish)

high fived little kids, cheered for the huge mass of bikers at the biker bar at about mile 3.  When we arrived in Framingham, the Fire Department had extended their huge ladder over the course and two fire fighters were sitting atop it waving and smiling at the runners!  It was so fun to catch their eye and wave at them for a big boost!  All through these miles I was sticking pretty close to an 8 minute pace and feeling good.  My calves that had been super tight all weekend weren’t complaining, my tibia felt fine, and I was feeling pretty confident. 

I wore my new monarch butterfly InknBurn tank and shorts.  So many people complimented me on how colorful my outfit was.  I wore this outfit because when you see a monarch butterfly, according to Mexican legend, it is the soul of someone you love who has died.  I knew this was going to be a tough race for me with my leg, so I wore this outfit to share the race with my little David, to honor my great friend Lena, and simply to gather what strength I could to endure 26.2 miles! 

The Wellesley co-eds were hiliarious!  So many fun signs, “Kiss me, I’m already pregnant,” “Kiss me, it’s my first time (marathon)” etc.  Watching the male runners vear over to the side of the road to kiss a coed is very entertaining and their screams are deafening.  My friend Leah had written Mom of 5 Boys on my shoulder blade in the Athlete’s Village … so it was very fun when runners came up behind me and commented on it.  One mom said, “And I hope those boys know their mom is kicking some serious ass out here!” 

I then started gathering strength and resolve to deal with the Newton Hills, which, in the past, have been a struggle for me.  All of the sudden, around mile 14, my right calf (opposite leg of my injured one!) started barking at me.  I could feel it seizing and started worrying the hills were going to be ugly.  As the first hill approached, I tried to increase my turnover but slow my pace to baby the calf.  The pain wasn’t bad on the uphill, but holy cow, on the downhill, it felt like a hot knife stabbing into it.  At this point, I started getting really cranky.  I thought back to last year, when it was 90 degrees and I had to walk/run the remainder of the marathon from about mile 17 and was ticked off that it felt like that was the direction I was heading.  I vowed to slow way down but refused to walk a single step. Plus I was terrifying if I started walking, the calf would complete lock up and I wouldn’t be able to start running again!

Finally I made it to the base of Heartbreak Hill…. The notorious last of the 4 hills in Newton.  I was bound and determined to run up it but my calf was saying otherwise.  I was searching desparately in the crowds for my friend Lena and her family as I knew they’d be out there cheering.  I saw them and ran over for a quick but awesome hug from Lena, shouting at her, “This f-ing sucks, don’t ever do this!”  She laughed and said, “love you babe” and sent me on my way.  Seeing her was just what I needed … I calmed down and said to myself, “ok, Mia (Lena’s daughter who died) and David are going to get you up this hill.”  I pictured two little butterflies grabbing the straps of my monarch tank top and flying me up the hill.  I have not felt David’s spirit that closely in such a long time, but I truly did feel him and little Mia bringing me to the top of that hill, and more importantly, making me realize how grateful and blessed I am to be able to run this amazing race that so many only dream to run.  At that moment I decided I could be a crabby bitch and piss and moan my way to Boston with legs that were hurting like crazy or I could have fun and squeeze every ounce of joy I could out of this race…. I chose the later!

Boston college was up next – even more special because Bailey and I had just spent the day there on Friday.  I high fived every college kid along the fence line – almost getting knocked on my butt several times by the guy athletes as they were giving some vigorous high fives.  One girl yelled, “Awesome arms” to me as I passed – which of course put a little spring in my step!!  I had hoped to grab a beer to enjoy on the course since I was not longer racing (and maybe it’d dull the pain) but I didn’t see any of the kids holding one out!

Next up, the Citgo sign by Fenway park! I knew the Sox fans would bring me energy to get me to mile 25.5, where I knew my friends would be waiting with cannoli at our infamous Canolli Corner!  I was searching the sky for the orange balloons they had talked about using so we could find them more easily … struggling on really really crabby legs at this point … when all of the sudden I saw our group.  It think I was just barely able to focus on seeing Amy and then I think it was Troy who shoved a cannoli in my hands.  I was barely coherent enough to process all of this at that point, but I (hope) I said THANKS and kept on going.  Despite my calf being on fire, my quads screaming at me and generally feeling pretty exhausted, I approached the turn from Hereford onto Boylston, with the deafening roar of the crowds and raised my cannoli high in the air to pose for a photo by the professional photographer!  Shortly after turning onto Boylston, I realized I could still go sub 3:40 and make a BQ-5 for next year so I sucked it up and tried to pick up the pace.  I heard friends screaming “CHRIS!!!” on my left – and turned to see Adam and gang cheering for me!  They were exactly what I needed and I muscled through to the finish!  Crossing the line was, once again, the biggest thrill, even if I had not run the race I hoped.  Don’t get me wrong, I was thrilled I finished, that my tibia had behaved, but of course, there is always that part of you that wants to run hard and feel good at the finish.

I ran into another friend from our group in the finisher’s chute, which was fun.  Several medics came up to me as I limped my way through the chute, trying to convince me to take a ride in a wheelchair to the medical tent.  I finally smiled at the last one who was trying so hard to get me into a wheelchair and said, “Thank you, really I’m fine, I’m just hurting .. save that for someone who really needs it.”  (Now I shudder when I think of those words).  

All in for Boston: Part 1

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