On the way to Boston…this one will be special

I love Boston.  I don’t think I understood how much until I moved away.   There is something about the people, the culture, and the fanatical love of sports that gets into your blood.   Just ask a Red Sox, Celtics, Patriots or Bruins fan.   I have a theory that the same piss and vinegar that spawned the American Revolution has morphed into a passionate love of the city and its local sports teams.   I guess that makes New York the British.

So it is no surprise that when the city came under attack, especially at the oldest sporting event in Boston history,  that the entire city and surrounding area would come together to support the victims and hunt down the bombers.  My niece Chelsea reminded me the other day of something Adam Sandler said at the time that sums it up.   “Boston is probably the only major city that if you fu** with them, they will shut down the whole city, stop everything and find you.”

A little over a year ago I was standing not far past the finish line when the bombs went off and changed the face of the Boston Marathon.    A year later I’m trying to keep my emotions in check as I prepare to join 34000 other runners for what should be the most memorable Boston Marathon in its 117 year history.    The blog I wrote after the bombing last year had several predictions for this year.  Here’s what I said:

So where do we go from here? I’ll make a few predictions. I believe that this will not materially change the format of the Boston Marathon. If that was the goal of the bombers they picked the wrong city and unquestionably the wrong event. We are marathoners; dedicated, stubborn, passionately addicted to our freedom on the roads and undeniably a little crazy. Not the kind of people that scare off easy.  

I believe that this will not reduce either the number of runners or the number of spectators next year. In fact, I expect this will be the best attended marathon in the history of the race.   My daughter wrote this assessment from a spectators view http://www.tiffanyschmidt.com/boston-love/ .   It eloquently sums up what I heard from many others.   I believe that some of the injured spectators will ultimately run the Boston Marathon. On that day I hope to be running alongside them to see it.

I was mostly right on the first prediction.  They have made some changes to the race logistics to make it safer and unfortunately it will make it a bit harder for the runners but the race itself remains the same.    I have to board a bus in Boston at 5 AM to get into the starting area by 7 for a start time of 11 AM.   Normally there would be less than 26000 runners but because so many runners didn’t finish last year they increased the number of positions so they could come back and run again this year.   I’ll bet there are very few who don’t.   As a result, with 34000 runners we are really stretching the limits of the starting area.   There will be 4 waves of about 8500 runners each, stepping off a half hour apart.  To put that in perspective, the winner will be within a couple of miles of the finish line before the last official runner crosses the starting line.

The second prediction was on the size of the crowd running and spectating.  Both will be records.  The spectator crowd is expected to surpass a million people (the population of the City of Boston is 636,000). 

 The third prediction will take a bit longer.  Many of the injured are just learning how to use their new artificial limbs.  Some of them plan to be watching near the finish and intend to jump in to run the last few steps to the finish line with a friend or relative.   I would love to see that.  Maybe next year they will at the starting line with the rest of us.

Until that day I plan to be out here doing my imitation of running and in some small way letting the victims know that I care and they are not forgotten.  And, I’ll be waiting for them to come join me.    I just hope they don’t wait too long…I’m not getting any younger.

If you are looking for me, my number is 21805.

Stay tuned and I’ll let you know how it all goes down.

The secret of joy is the mastery of pain – Anais Nin

Ever meet one of those guys that get hurt but won’t go to the doctors or hospital to get it checked?   You know the ones; they cut their hand nearly off with an electric saw and as they bleed through the 5^th towel proclaim “it’ll be just fine once I get the bleeding stopped.  Nothing a little Guerrilla Glue can’t fix.”.      Any suggestion of going to the hospital would be an assault on their manhood. 

I don’t see myself as this type of person but I’m afraid my wife would disagree (joined swiftly by my children I’m sure).   Most of their “perception” stems from those few occasions when I’ve returned from runs with what I would call aches and pains but they would refer to as injuries.    And of course there was that one time when running with Heather I caught half a curb, rolled my ankle and fell in the street.  I have to admit, I did do the macho thing…popping back up on my feet and limping around saying “It’s OK, I’ll just walk it off”.    It was pretty clear looking down at my ankle swelling over the top of my shoe like a muffin top that walking it off wasn’t an option.    Who knew skin could turn that many colors in a matter of minutes.

Most of the time I heal up after a few weeks or months of limping around but occasionally it will take a bit longer.  It’s not that I prefer to suffer rather than go to a doctor.  Quite the contrary, if they could help me I’d be waiting at their door when they open the next day.  It’s simply that after making the time to go I know the conversation will go something like this:

Doctor:  How did you do this?

Me:     Running

Doctor:  Does it hurt when you run?

Me:  Yup…that’s why I’m here.

Doctor:  You need to stop running and give it time to heal.

Me:  How long will that be?

Doctor:  Hard to tell.  Let’s set up a follow up appointment in a month.

 Now I’m out the money for a doctor visit and I’ve been told I should lay off running at least a month.  Not very helpful.  Heck, Pam said the same thing to me before I went.  If I had just agreed with her I could have won a few marriage points and saved myself the doctor costs.  

If you are running a marathon you have already made up your mind you are going to deal with a certain amount of pain.   Even without an injury, the process of running a marathon requires a runner to keep going long after the body has depleted its energy resources, any cushioning has been stomped out of the shoes, and the leg muscles have turned to cement.   In races like the Boston Marathon , with its steep downhills, the legs take such a beating that each downhill stride  later in the race feels like someone driving spikes into your quads.   Given our brains are hard wired to avoid pain, why would anyone put themselves through this, especially more than once.

Insanity and masochism are certainly two possible answers.    For me the second is not likely but the first is arguably a possibility.   But I think there is more to it than this.   Some of us like to test ourselves, to push ourselves to try and find the limits of our capabilities.  It could be overcoming fears like taking your first airplane flight or maybe even parachuting out of one.    It might be physical like climbing a mountain,  running your first 5K or maybe even doing a marathon.    In each, pain (emotional or physical) teaches us about our limits and at the same time we often learn we can reset those limits.   And if Anais is right, conquering those pains should bring joy.    If that is the case, when I finish Boston this year I should be on cloud nine.  

At this point you might be thinking nothing is more painful than reading this blog.  That may be true but clearly you are testing your pain limits because you are still reading it.    

Two weeks to go.  Pray for good weather.

If wishes were fishes all the world would be fed

  Don’t you just love one liners that wrap wisdom and a bit of scolding into and easy to speak statement.I can remember one of my relatives using a similar version of this when I was young (I’m sure after I said something that started with I wish…).  Now that I’m a grandfather I’m tuning up on all the great old phrases that make me look wiser than I am.  The more common current day version is If wishes were fishes all beggars would eat.   I was surprised to find the original version is part of a Scottish nursery rhyme that goes something like this:

                If wishes were horses all beggars would ride

                If turnips were swords I’d have one by my side

                If “ifs” and “ands” were pots and pans

                There would be no need for tinker’s hands 

 You have to love the internet.  It has a way of not only putting the most esoteric information at your fingertips but at the same time correcting years of society morphing original culture into modern day sound bites.   We can’t even blame this one on texting or the 140 character limit of Twitter since today’s version was established long before the internet.

So what has this got to do with the Boston Marathon, marathoning in general, or my efforts at either?  I’m glad you asked.    Pretty much nothing….and maybe everything.    How many of us have a dream, set a goal, even made a proclamation of what we are going to do and spent more time thinking and talking about it than actually taking steps to make it real.   I know I have.    Fear could be a big part of it.   Fear of failure, fear of criticism, fear of the commitment or fear of just letting go of what you have to try for something new.    There is no question that staying in our comfort zones get in the way of dreams. 

 And of course we are great at justifying our inaction to ourselves.   We have that little voice in our heads that says I’m too busy, too tired, too old, or have too many other priorities at this point in my life.   And he/she always ends with the ultimate justification….I’ll get to it later.    Yeah…right.   Between the fear and the justification it’s a wonder mankind isn’t still back in the stone age. 

 There’s a flip side to fear that is also a motivator.  The fear of not doing something, of being insignificant, of disappointing someone, of losing what you already have.     It’s that motivation that can turn the ordinary person into an Olympic track star when they need to escape a dangerous situation.    

 I’ve heard lots of reasons why people run marathons.   To prove they can do it, to improve their health, for the glory of the win, to test their personal limits, and, in the case of charity runners, to help others.   For me the motivation is to remember; or more specifically not to forget.    Committing to the Boston Marathon assures that at least once a year I will do something that not only reminds me of Nick but allows me to fund a charity in his name that will keep his memory alive.  Why do this by running a marathon, and in particular one where you have to work to qualify every year?   Partially because Nick loved athletic challenges and loved to live life large.    But mostly the fear of forgetting my son far outweighs the fears of not finishing and requalifying,  or the fear of getting injured, or the struggles to train in the cold weather or the aches and pains of old age.    The side benefits of better health, helping others, and eating all the ice cream I want aren’t bad either.

 Let’s face it, sometimes no amount of effort is going to make a wish come true.   Short of discovering time travel that certainly is the case for me.    In the interim, I run marathons and along the way, through the generosity of those who support me,  hopefully make other people’s wishes and dreams come true.   So here is my version of the Scottish nursery rhyme.  It will even fit in a Tweet.

 

If wishes were fishes all the world would be fed

               If dreaming made it happen we’d all stay in bed
              If words were the answer then all dreams would come true
             Turn wishes and dreams into things that we do

Father Time and Mother Nature can make for cruel parents

When I was younger I use to think 60 was really old.   Now that I’ve arrived I realize I was right.   It’s not that I think of myself as old  (on a good day my wife would say I’m mentally an adolescent)  it’s just that my body keeps reminding me.  That’s particularly true when I’m out marathon training.    There are days when I just feel like an old car that still runs but the chassis is sagging, the shocks are shot, the headlights aren’t very bright and it makes a wheezing sound when it’s going uphill.   While it still runs, there is no longer a 4^th gear (or even a third gear), having a full tank of gas has a whole different meaning, and I carry a lot more junk in the trunk.   One positive is the neighborhood dogs no longer chase me since my exhaust rendered them unconscious.

 I can still get out and do a creative imitation of running but I miss the old days when you would just glide along the roads with the wind blowing through your hair (heck…I miss the hair too).    These days I think the correct definition for my style of running is “plodding”.   I was running through a neighborhood the other day and a man walking his dog passed me by and asked if running in place was a new form of exercise.   

So while Father Time has been beating me around the body with the old age stick, I expected Mother Nature to swoop in and give an old man a break.  Not likely.    Going out for this morning’s long run (18+ miles) I was greeted with a balmy 6 degrees.    When it’s that cold you not only have to work harder to breath, but the pavement is less forgiving on the legs and the inevitable sweat tends to freeze to your mustache, eyebrows and any exposed skin.   Oh yeah, and the water bottle freezes to a semi-solid slush that gives you brain freeze when you drink.    I guess I should be thankful; it was 2 degrees when I went out the other day. 

Cold, while difficult, is a minor annoyance when compared with snow.   The lack of traction on snow covered roads makes forward progress twice as difficult.  Given how slow I’m already going I have nightmares that I may find myself going backward in time.   Add to this the risk of muscle injury (you use totally different muscles trying not to slip), the risk of stepping in hidden potholes and of course staying out of the way of the ever present but woefully ill equipped winter drivers.   While over the years I’ve gotten use to the idea of running in the snow in Boston, it is a whole different experience in PA where plowing the roads to payment is an occasional experience.   

If you read this far I appreciate that you have been kind enough to put up with my venting.   I suspect Father Time is a strict parent and I don’t expect much help from him.  But I’m putting in a special request to Mother Nature to ease up and take pity on an old man.    If not for me, for the poor flowers and trees that may not see spring till sometime in June.

When did Running become so complex?

    I love watching my grandchildren run.They run with such reckless abandon, not with the goal of running, or even getting anywhere, but just as a part of playing.   It reminds me of great times as a young whipper-snapper when running was an integral part of daily activities like playing tag, capture the flag and of course street football and baseball games (and yes, they had footballs and baseballs when I was young).    

When I first started running marathons it seemed equally simple.  You bought a pair of running shoes (you had 2 or 3 different brands to choose from), pair of baggy grey cotton sweats and if you were really into it, a watch with a timer.   Getting ready for a run was simple, you rolled out of bed, threw on the sweats, laced up the shoes and 10 minutes later you were running.   Adjusting to the weather was as simple as deciding if you needed the sweat pants or if it was sub freezing maybe a hat and gloves.

Over the last 35 years, life has gotten more complex and it has dragged running along with it.  Technology, social media, and YouTube of everything has changed running from a natural activity into a fashion runway decked out in the latest Best Buy techno-toys.  Gone are the days of “who cares what I look like” or “enjoying the peaceful Zen of a run on a country road”.   Now it’s about designer clothes, day-glow shoes, space age headphones, GPS watches, organic food and phone apps.     

Don’t get me wrong, I like some of the new stuff.   The other morning when it was sub zero and my breath was forming a layer of ice on my mustache and eyebrows I said a little prayer of thanks to the Under Armour inventor whose product was protecting certain vital organs.   At my age I don’t generate a lot of heat doing the “geriatric shuffle” so staying warm can be a challenge.  I once had a nightmare that I was going so slow that they found me actually frozen to the road mid stride.  I’d drag a heater along if I could figure out the logistics of a 5 mile extension cord.   Given the aging population there is probably a patent and a trip to Shark Tank in there somewhere.

I’ve tried to adapt to the changes over the years.   I got a GPS watch (actually my daughter and son-in-law bought it for me), I received new running clothes (from my son and other daughter/son-in-law), more clothes from my wife (the aforementioned under armor…she said she had a vested interest in protecting certain assets), and a postage stamp size radio/MP3 player (also from Pam) to replace my 12 year old cigarette sized FM radio.  OK, so maybe my family dragged me into the 21^st century.  But regardless, the outcome is the 10 minutes it used to take me from bed to road now takes me 20 minutes just to “gear up”.   And of course we have to add another 10+ minutes to “get the kinks out” so when I hit the roads I don’t look like a refugee from a nursing home that forgot his walker. 

In relative terms I’m still in the dark ages.  I don’t have any of the noise cancelling ear buds guaranteed to never fall out while running, the mini-heart rate monitors,  the energy boosting shoes,  the compression lycra shorts/leggings (frequently a frightening sight if you happen to be behind the wrong person),   or the fitness apps that turn your phone into a coach.   It will even remind you when you are running too slow by vibrating (unverified rumors speak of a version that replaces vibration with electrical shocks for a little more motivation).   In the latter case, the running aspect is actually leaking into everyday life.  There are wrist bands that will not only track your running, but  how many calories you burn walking around during the day, measures your sleep quality, and wakes you in the morning to start it all over again.     In case having your every move monitored is not enough, it will transmit it to your computer so you can compare it with the stats from your phone app that has been monitoring what you eat.  

It won’t be long before the latest technology innovation (the Internet of Things…basically every device talking to every other) co-ops running as well.   You can easily imagine a scenario where you miss a few weeks of exercise and your bathroom scale notices you’ve gained a few pounds so it notifies your phone which changes your ringtone to start haranguing you about exercising every time it rings.  Meantime the refrigerator (which is tracking what you are eating) replaces ice cream on your grocery list with low fat yogurt and notifies your doctor’s office to schedule a checkup.   When my running watch or phone starts waking me up early with a reminder I need to go exercise or starts coaching me to run faster, it won’t be long for this world. 

There is a reason I kept my old running watch.

“Do or Do Not! There is no try.”

If you have seen Star Wars you may remember this phrase from the Grand Master Jedi Yoda when he is training Luke Skywalker.     The message was clear, commit yourself to the effort or don’t bother, there is no in between.

We all have our favorite phrases that stay with us long after we see the movie and get reused in daily life to drive home a point.    Who hasn’t heard the Arnold Schwarzenegger phrase from The Terminator (“I’ll be back”),  or snickered at Tatum O’Neil responding to her con artist father’s statement that he has scruples (No, I don't know what it is, but if you got 'em, it's a sure bet they belong to somebody else!).   There are so many great lines/scenes in the movie Parenthood.   Steve Martin asks his sick daughter  “Do you feel like you wanna throw up?” and she responds “OK” and proceeds to do so all over him.   Or when a teenage dad to be talks about how his father beat and tortured him saying “….you need a license to buy a dog, to drive a car - hell, you even need a license to catch a fish. But they'll let any #@$%&#  be a father”.

But my favorite comes from Cloris Leachman in Spanglish.   Speaking to her daughter who realizes her affair may ruin her marriage  “Lately your low self-esteem is just good common sense.”.

But I digress…forgive me, it’s an age thing.   So back to Yoda.    While one could argue Yoda’s philosophy on attempting new challenges is not appropriate in all situations,  it certainly is a mantra for a successfully completing a marathon.   You are either all in or you’re not, there is little room for maybe.     Oh sure, you might hear people in the midst of training for a marathon say they are “attempting” to run one but behind the scenes they are either committed or they aren’t.    No rational person committed to running a marathon (and I use the “rational person” loosely in this context) gets up in the wee hours of the morning,  when it is cold and dark,  and runs for a couple of hours because they are thinking they might TRY a marathon. 

 The commitment comes with the goal, you are either focused on completing it (and willing to put in the work) or you might as well save yourself some grief and stay in your warm bed.   I’m afraid there is no half-way.    In the words of Theodore Roosevelt, “Believe you can and you are half way there”.   The reverse is also true.

 

I’ve mentioned in the past that I believe a marathon is as much mental as physical.    No matter how good or well trained you are, there will be a point in the race where your mind says go and your body says no.    The combination of running out of fuel (no matter how much energy Goo and drink you take), the breaking down of your shoes, and the atrophy of your muscles will combine to make every step a significant, if not painful, effort.   What keeps runners going at this point is their mental strength, their ability to ignore the signals from their body telling them to stop or the goblins in their head that are telling them they can’t do this.  

 I’ve heard healthy, mostly well-adjusted, reasonably intelligent people tell me there is no way they could run a marathon.    Despite the fact I have said repeatedly that anyone can complete a marathon, I agree with them.   They have defeated themselves before they ever started and as long as they hold that mental image it ain’t happening.   

 

So, what gives the ordinary middle aged person who has never run a race in their life the motivation to run a marathon?   There is a story behind every marathoner and most are pretty interesting.   For some it is the glory of the race, the attempt to be among the elite, either overall or in their age group.  For some it may be to test the limits of their physical strength, competing not with the rest of the runners but with their own personal goals.  For many it is just proving they have the mental and physical fortitude to set that goal and make it to the finish line.   These runners are often running for more than themselves, carrying with them a cause of helping someone else or keeping a memory of a loved one alive.  Some wear their story on their t-shirts on race day, running for a cause that may be universal (cancer, liver disease, Heart Association, our lost military brothers etc.) or personal (in memory of my dad, mom, brother, sister, son, daughter etc.).   Regardless of their cause they have one thing in common, all are committed.   For them there is no “try”.

 

There was a time many years ago when I was among the first two groups, running Boston for time and glory.   Those days are long gone, obliterated by age and years of accumulated injuries.   Today I run with the third group in memory of my son Nick who can’t, and to help others whose current life challenges dwarf running a marathon.    And on Patriots Day, God willing, I will be joining 36,000 other committed runners who for many months have laced up their shoes, left doubt at the doorstep, and headed out to make crossing the finish line a reality.

Another year but anything but another Boston Marathon

 

Running a marathon is always special (at least for the runner) and running the Boston Marathon, the oldest and most elite marathon, is even more so.   Last year however it turned from euphoria to disaster in just a few minutes altering the lives of hundreds caught up in the bombing.  

I was one of the lucky ones, finishing just ahead of the explosions but many of the runners I know were not so lucky.  A number of them have family members who were injured in the blast and many more were not able to finish, getting stuck out on the course when they shut down the race. 

For those runners, coming back to run the race this year was not a question at all.   Every runner I spoke with emphatically planned to return and finish what they started, not just for themselves but in memory and support of all the people who were injured or killed.   They were not alone.  Runners from around the world went online to voice their support of Boston and pledge to be there this year.  The message was clear, we won’t let a few attention seeking, maniacal, weak minded, hate mongering, idiots(I may have gotten a little carried away here…or not) intimate us into being afraid.  And it didn’t stop there.  I predict there will be more spectators on the course this year than in the history of the race.

At this point you might think “There can’t be that many crazy people out there who not only want to run a marathon but will work there butt’s off to try to qualify.”     It’s a testament to the human race that diversity has spawn enough of us to more than fill the rosters at Boston.  In fact, the BAA expanded the field for just this year from 27,000 to 36,000 to accommodate the increased interest in participating.  To give the fastest runners first shot at entry they stagger the registration based on how many minutes you are under your qualifying time (20 minutes under first, then 10 minutes under, then 5 minutes under).  Despite the increase, all but 5000 of the slots were filled by runners who were at least 5 minutes under their qualifying time, and thousands of runners who qualified and sent in applications were not able to get in.

So another year but not just another marathon for me.  This one will be special for all kinds of reasons, not the least of which I will be running for Help in the Nick of Time to raise funds for families impacted by the bombing.     I can’t think of a better way to help others, honor those we have lost and offer a middle finger to those that would try to take away our freedoms.

 

 

 

A Marathon Day like no other....

For the last 6 years I’ve used this post-marathon blog to give insights to what race day in Boston is like and how I did personally in attempting to achieve the finish line. This one will be different.

When I sat down to write this blog I found myself just staring at the screen. Even days later I’m at a loss to organize and express the range of emotions of the day and days that followed. So I’ll ask your forgiveness in advance if you find this blog a bit unorganized, over emotional at times and lacking the usual humor. I hope it is easier to read than it was to write.

Nervous excitement is the best description I can give for the emotional state of the runners at the staging area in Hopkinton. As I’ve mentioned before, it looks like a mini-Woodstock with runners spread out over the fields and just about every available dry space around the school. Because they close the roads into town at 7:30 most runners have to wait outside for 2-3 hours before the start of the race. That’s a lot of pent-up nervous energy.

I rode out from Boston to the start in Hopkinton with a couple of busloads of charity runners who are part of the Charity Teams group. These are some of the runners who agree to raise $5000 for a race-sponsored charity in order to get an official race number. On my bus most of the runners were first time Boston Marathoners and many were first time marathoners. Susan Hurley is the angel that runs Charity Teams, which trains these runners to be able to complete the run and at the same time helps them with the challenges of fund raising. In the most elite marathon in the world these runners will measure their achievement not by their race times but by the funds that they raised to help others and making it to the finish line.

The weather was perfect and by all accounts this should have been a day of great pride, accomplishment and joy accompanied by runner stories about battling aches and pains, Herculean efforts to conquer Heartbreak Hill, wading through a sea of cups at water stops and humorous costumes and T-shirts. Instead the stories are about the disappointment of being stopped less than a mile from the finish, the fear of not knowing what happened to family members and friends, and the horror of discovering a relative or friend has been injured.

From a running perspective I had a good day. I ran the second half of the race a bit faster than the first half. Tired, sore and happy to have requalified for next year, I shuffled through the post finish line gauntlet where the volunteers hand you water, wrap you in a mylar blanket, give you a bag of post race food and put a medal over your head. All this takes about 15+ minutes and then you enter a section a few hundred yards beyond the finish where you pick up your clothes that you checked in at the starting line. I was standing at that point changing into warm clothes when the explosions went off, the plumes of smoke shot into the air, and the world turned to crap.



My view towards finish line 10 min after the explosions

 From where we were we couldn’t see beyond  the finish line to determine what had happened. I started moving back towards the finish line but the stream of hundreds of incoming runners funneling down the street prevented any movement in that direction. Shortly after, the stream of runners just stopped and first responders had cordoned off the road to keep people out and allow room for emergency vehicles to get in.



Runners stopped less than a mile from finish.

Out on the course, the runners had been stopped or redirected to a safe area with little or no information about what was happening. Social media took over and runners with phones began filling in others on what was happening. The cell phone network went to hell as runners tried to call family to let them know they were safe, family members called runners to check on them and runners still on the course tried to arrange logistics to get into Boston or get home. I was waiting at the finish for a friend who I offered a ride home. He was safe over a mile out but it took me almost 30 minutes of dialing and trying to text him to finally get through.

My story was tame compared to some of my friends and acquaintances. A family that until recently lived across the street had a son who graduated high school with my son Nick. He was running and his parents were standing near the finish waiting for him. Both parents are still in the hospital with numerous shrapnel wounds. One of the charity runners from our bus had his wife and kids in the Forum restaurant waiting for him when the bomb went off outside. They were blown off their seats as a hail of glass blew into the restaurant. The mom of another runner from our bus is still in the hospital and was operated on yesterday. The boyfriend of another of the charity runners from the bus lost both his legs.

In the midst of all this tragedy were tremendous examples of selflessness and heroism. Volunteers and spectators around the finish line jumped in to help first responders deal with the wounded without concern there might be a third or fourth bomb. A spectator near the finish jumped the fence and saved the life of one of the injured spectators by putting a tourniquet on his leg and comforting him until first responders could get him to the hospital. It was the boyfriend I mentioned earlier who lost both his legs.  

Forum Restaurant

When the bomb went off outside the Forum Restaurant, the family I mentioned earlier were helped out the back of the restaurant by bystanders so the children wouldn’t have to face the carnage out front, and then given shelter at a nearby condo. At the same time a number of the men waiting for charity runners rushed out through the broken glass and into the street to help the victims. They are the faces you see in the pictures carrying victims and pushing wheelchairs. When I crossed the finish line I was near a marine who had just finished in full gear with a heavy pack on his back. He was headed to the medical tent for blisters. I later heard he was in the middle of getting help when the bombs went off. He jumped up, put on his boots, blisters and all, and rushed out to help. From all over I heard stories of people sharing phones with runners so they could call their family, spectators giving stranded runners clothes literally off their backs and money to get home or to their hotels, restaurants providing free food, and people opening their homes to runners and family members who were stranded for the night. And then there are the race volunteers, first responders and law enforcement who responded quickly to help the injured, the racers on the course and the families who were worried and waiting at the finish line. While I would like to believe all this would happen in any city in the US, I couldn’t be prouder to be a Bostonian.

So where do we go from here? I’ll make a few predictions. I believe that this will not materially change the format of the Boston Marathon. If that was the goal of the bombers they picked the wrong city and unquestionably the wrong event. We are marathoners;
dedicated, stubborn, passionately addicted to our freedom on the roads and undeniably a little crazy. Not the kind of people that scare off easy.  

I believe that this will not reduce either the number of runners or the number of spectators next year. In fact, I expect this will be the best attended marathon in the history of the race.   My daughter wrote this assessment from a spectators view http://www.tiffanyschmidt.com/boston-love/ .   It eloquently sums up what I heard from many others.   I believe that some of the injured spectators will ultimately run the Boston Marathon. On that day I hope to be running along side them to see it.

Finally, thanks to all who reached out to me to make sure I was OK. It was heartwarming to receive all your messages at a really difficult time. Some of you asked if I will be back next year? Absolutely! I’m a runner and when faced with pain and tragedy running is what we do.

Please add your thoughts and comments, they are greatly appreciated, especially after this week.

And then there was ONE ….

Boston Marathon Start

One day until THE race. THE Boston Marathon. The Holy Grail of Marathons, the marathon of all marathons. At least that's the way most marathon runners think about Boston.

There was a lot of proof of that on display yesterday when I went into Boston to pick up my number (15780) for the race (I’ll be starting around the middle of the 27,000 runners). While we waited in line I spoke to a number of runners who had made the pilgrimage to Boston to run it the first time. No question it is one of the oldest and most elite marathons in the world (outside of the Olympics) with qualifying times that will eliminate most casual runners (is there such a thing as a casual marathoner?). As the popularity of running marathons has increased they have even lowered the qualifying times in the last few years. Did I mention you need to re-qualify every year? So to earn a number to be at the starting line did not mean just a commitment to finishing, it was a commitment to racing.

The excitement around the number pickup area was contagious. Runners having pictures taken in front of maps of the course holding their numbers in front of them, trying on the bright yellow Boston Marathon running shirt they just received, going through their bag of "goodies" that come with their number, or registering to have their progress on the course sent to their family’s cell phones. Think graduation day, with the runners receiving their numbers like the graduates getting their diploma. For a short time the excitement and reality of reaching this point replaces the nervousness of the upcoming race.

There is also a runner’s expo where you can sample and buy almost anything that has to do with running. It is amazing to me that I was ever able to finish a marathon 30 years ago without the help of all the new shoe, sock, compression shorts, hat and clothes technology that I’m now told is a "must" for success. Not to mention the energy drinks, power cookies, energy bars, yogurt drinks, gels, candies, grains and mixes I need to be taking before, during and for days after the race. They have catchy names like Reboot, Bioplasma, and Chia Shots that will deliver the necessary proteins, Omega 3, fiber, electrolytes, carbohydrates, fluids and antioxidants. Silly me, I thought I just needed to eat a lot of pasta and drink a lot of water. If I listen to the marketing pitches on what I need to do to survive I should already be dead.

　

Back to the first time runners standing in line. The stories from those qualified Boston Rookies were as varied as the places they came from. The young guy from the mid-west who ran his first marathon and he said it was a fluke that he ran fast enough to qualify for Boston. He felt he needed to do Boston at least once in his life and felt this might be his only chance. The mom from California who started running 5K’s (3.1 miles) to teach her children about health and exercise and found it has changed her life as well. It was her children who encouraged her to come to Boston and they are there to cheer her on. The older gentleman (had to be in his 70’s) who didn’t start running till late in his life and had this on his bucket list. He and his wife shared a passion for outdoor activities and she will be there to cheer him on. It will be her last chance as she is terminally ill.

But despite the high bar for qualifying, for several thousand dedicated runners, a ticket to the starting line is within reach if they are willing to take on the added burden of not only months of training but also months of fund raising. The BAA and John Hancock (race sponsor) provide charities with access to a limited number of race numbers if the runner is willing to raise $4-5000 for the charity. A friend of mine, Susan Hurley, coaches several hundred of the charity team runners and helps them with their fund raising. Almost all would never qualify and many have never run a marathon before (the equivalent of getting to ride in the Kentucky Derby as your first horse race). I’ve had the privilege of running with a number of these runners and all have stories for why they are doing it and amazingly almost all of them are centered on helping someone else and frequently in memory of someone they have lost.

It all comes together as we stand on the starting line Monday. For every runner, getting to the starting line was a journey and every journey has a story. For some it will be about the competition and the glory but for many others it will be about making their life, the lives of the people around them, and the lives of the families in the charities they support, a bit better. It’s amazing to me the positive ripple affect this one race will have touching so many lives. Now if we could only bottle that and give it away at every expo….
One more day….

I can fix it myself!

Ever meet one of those people who refuses to hire a plumber, electrician or other repairperson because they can fix it themselves? You know the type, they have the partially fixed lawn mower in the garage for the last two years, or the wires hanging out of the ceiling in guestroom where that fan and light were going to be installed. My wife would say it’s a guy thing, something equivalent to never asking for directions or yelling at the TV during a sporting event. Making it a "guy thing" means she can insinuate it means me without actually accusing me directly.

She may have a point. I recently decided to fix a burner on our cook top. Online it was described as a 20 min. job and needs a $30 part. Several trips to the parts store, several hours of finagling and $100 later I managed to fix the burner but took out the burner light in the process. Pam would call it a comedy of errors, I call it a learning experience.

But what does this have to do with running? To some degree it’s that same "I can fix it myself" mentality that carries over into running injuries. I just don’t find it rewarding to run off to a doctor every time I get a cold, some achy joint or muscle, or flu symptoms (another guy thing?). I figure I can fix it myself or worst case it will degrade to something worst like pneumonia or torn tendon and then I can justify I need a professional to help. Part of this is learned behavior. I get injured running, I go to the doctor, they ask me how it did it, I tell them, and they tell me to stop running. Like that is going to happen.

But there are times when you do need to turn to a professional. I was on a run with my daughter one day and I rolled my ankle on a curb. I jump back up and start limping around saying "It’s OK, I’ll just walk it off" (another guy thing?). Within a minute I had a muffin top forming over the top of my shoe. OK, so I can’t walk it off, but if I just ice it the swelling will go down and it will be OK. Next day when the foot turned black (not black and blue…black) it seemed appropriate to get it checked. Eight weeks later I got off the crutches and out of the cast.

This year I reached another one of those points. Last year I ran 3 marathons in less than 12 months without any serious injuries. But in the fall I came up lame with a mysterious back of the knee/hamstring problem. Even resting it for a couple of months didn’t seem to make a difference. So I found it completely rational to go seek professional help. I went online. But despite the sage advice of other runners nothing I seemed to do could heal the injury. I finally broke down and went to a doctor.

Apparently I’m not alone. A recent study found that 50% of runners get sidelined each year due to injuries. The aging population of runners and accumulated injuries over the years have a lot to do with that. I’d say I’m guilty on both counts. Some of these injuries come with classy names like, Dead Butt Syndrome, Nippi Erectie Rubatosis, Shin Splints, Blackened Toenails, Runner’s Knee, and Snapping Hip. But most of these injuries are fairly minor and with some early advice/research and a bit of TLC they can be handled by the runner. One thing running does teach you is to listen to your body. Pam would say listening isn’t my strong suit but relative to running I think I’m getting better at it.

　
We haven’t fixed my problem but between the doctor and I we managed to get me to where I can run, although very slow and with limited mobility. It looks like it will be another one of those years where we won’t know until the second half whether the legs will hold up or not. But of course it they don’t, I can always try to fix it myself.

　

　

Inspiration from ????

During the 1992 Olympics in Barcelona, track star Derek Redmond was favored to medal in the 400 Meter sprint. Half way through the race he pulled up lame with a hamstring tear (very painful, I can attest to that). The story of what happened next has been ranked as No. 3 in a list of the 50 most stunning Olympic moments. You can watch the video here  http://www.godvine.com/What-This-Racer-Does-is-the-Most-Inspirational-Thing-You-ll-Ever-See-1169.html .

Why is it that a couple of years after a major sporting event most of us have trouble remembering who won (unless of course it it’s your favorite team), yet events like Derek’s stick in our minds. Granted, some of us have reached the age where remembering our own names may be difficult at times, but there does seem to be more of an emotional attachment to the inspirational events in our lives. Without looking I couldn’t remember who won the Boston Marathon 5 years ago even though I ran it. But I can tell you in great detail about the first time I ran into Dick Hoyt pushing his son Rick up heartbreak hill in a wheelchair. I was setting a pretty serious pace when I came up along side them and as I wished him well he turned and smiled (no small feat while pushing his 20 year old son up a killer hill). I still get a lump in my throat when I think about it, and every year since when I have been fortunate enough to bump into them at races. Last year Dick and Rick did it again at Boston for the 30th time.

I saw a report the other night on a woman (Stephanie Decker) who had lost both her legs in a tornado. She was covering up her children protecting them from the house that was coming apart around them. She has artificial limbs now and has learned how to walk with them. Amazingly, she is not bitter at all, expressing her joy at what she has, not her anger at what she lost. Her next goal is to run a marathon.

On April 15th, 20+ thousand runners will descend on Boston for the 117th running of THE Marathon. Among them will be thousands of runners running to raise money for their charity of choice. Each has their own story on how they got there and what inspires them to train for such a grueling event. I’ve had the pleasure of hearing some of those stories over the years. Some make my heart ache, others make it soar but in all cases I take away a memory and a little bit of inspiration that I can use when the going gets tough. It’s no secret that the hard work is not the day of the race (unless of course you count last year with the 90 degree weather), the hard part is the months of training. That’s when you need the motivation to get out of bed early to slog through the snow, or skip that Friday night out with friends to be ready for your weekly long run Saturday morning. When you are running for someone else as well as yourself, it makes the choice a bit easier. I had a friend tell me that between training and fund raising it literally consumes all her free time. She said it as a fact, not a complaint, and I know if I asked her if she regretted the decision to run for a charity she would think I was nuts.

Another friend of mine, Susan Hurley, runs an organization called Charity Teams that helps charity runners prepare to run the Boston Marathon, as well as helping them with their fund raising. Many of them are first time marathoners and over the past few years all of them have finished the race. No small feat given the normal dropout rates in Boston. On top of that, the runners she has taken under her wings have raised over $2.7M for their charities. Most of those runners come with their own stories of inspiration but if they need a bit more they don’t have to look far. Susan is not only a source of inspiration but has positively touched numerous lives in the process. By most definitions a true hero.

So why do we love inspirational stories? Hell if I know. Maybe because a little inspiration is like a swift kick in the butt. It’s a call to action to get us moving. Whether we fall down or it propels us forward is up to us. No question on Marathon day a bunch of us will be using it as fuel to keep us going.