The Day the Dream Came True

April 19, 2010

I didn’t sleep much last night. Reminded me of a Pastor’s night-before-Easter-Sunrise-Worship prayer: “Dear God, please don’t let me oversleep.” Not much to worry about--woke up at 1:30, 3:30, and 4:30, and then I slept 10 minutes through the alarm. Not to worry though… as always, I had everything laid out and ready to go.

After a quick breakfast of waffles, yogurt and not near enough coffee, I headed off to catch the “T” to Boston Commons for the bus ride to Hopkinton State Park. I was nervous. I started my heart rate monitor- 80! Considering my average heart rate is around 68-70, so…O.K. a bit excited.

I stepped out of the train station looking at a sea of runners standing in Boston Commons waiting to board one of the big yellow school buses lined up and down the street. I figured it was going to take a long time to get anywhere close to front of one of those lines. As luck would have it, after standing in one line that didn’t move, I switched lines and got on a bus immediately. I was the last one on the bus so my seat was at the very back. At first I didn’t think it was so great, but it was a single seat so I didn’t have to talk to anyone- YAY! There was a great deal of chatter and nervous laughing going on, but more than anything, it was group of almost total strangers about to embark on an adventure like none other in their life. Everyone was decked out in their most impressive marathon jacket, sweatshirt, hat, etc. - after all, nobody that runs in this race is a rookie. For the record, I was proudly wearing my Miami Marathon jacket and my “Pirate Running Hat.” The couple sitting next to me, from Atlanta, had on matching shirts that said: “Just Married- the 2010 Boston Marathon is our honeymoon”. They looked like they were 12 years old.

When arriving at the Athlete’s Village after what seemed like a never ending bus ride, I checked my heart rate again- 90! Two hours now before the Start- better get in line for a porta potty. And once again, I got into a line that didn’t seem to move and then I spotted a line at the very end of about 100 of the “relief facilities” with just a couple of women in it. Happiness is not having to wait forever to get into a porta potty.

Now that I felt much better, I started wandering through the Village trying to take it all in- people of all shapes and sizes, all ethnic groups, colors, religions and nationalities, just hanging out together with possibly only one thing in common, so nothing else mattered. If the world could act more like an Athlete’s Village for a day...

I found my way to the area for the “Second Wave” Runners, found a step to a T.V. truck on which to sit and settled in. I thought the time was going to go by very slowly, but before I knew it, it was time to shed the warm ups, put my bag on the bus which I was sure would arrive back in Boston much quicker than I would. So before heading to the Corral to which I was assigned I stood in line at a “relief facility”- 2 more times.

And then out the Runners Exit I went, and started long walk to find where I would start. All sorts of thoughts were flying through my brain and heart at this time- I was making my way to the start of the Boston Marathon. I found myself getting very emotional, and before I knew it tears were rolling down face, but with a grin that stretched from ear to ear. This was the moment of which I had dreamed, worked, and run literally thousands of miles for 9 years to reach. “If you aren’t chasing miracles, it just isn’t worth it.” (St. Ralph) THIS WAS DEFINITELY WORTH IT!

And then it happened. After a moment of almost silence for someone, we were off. In most races, it takes awhile to get moving and even longer to get running- not this time. It was like the 10000 or so runners in the 2nd wave all started running at the same time. And they did not start off slowly. It seemed like everyone was in full stride. If you remember from the last entry, I had a good plan for how I was going to run this dream. “The best laid plans…” as the old saying goes. I was on the far right side of the road. Perfect weather and a downhill course are not conducive to slow running. My first mile was 8:05. It didn’t feel like I was running that fast- I thought something was wrong with my watch. So at the 2 mile mark I checked again- 8:15. I was going to be in trouble if I kept this up- but I thought: “So what?” I felt great and was having a ball. It was joy running the through the towns along the route. The bliss continued through the ½ point of the race in Wellesley- 1:58. I had planned to run a 2:10 first half- Oops!

My favorite area was Wellesley through Newton- well at least until the “Newton Hills” came into my life- more about this later. This was my 10th marathon, including ones in N.Y. Chicago, Miami, Washington, D.C. and Honolulu. I have to give kudos to the Boston fans on some of the best cheering throughout the entire course I have ever heard. And special kudos go to the girls of Wellesley College. I wonder how many kisses they collected during the race...

After borrowing a lawn chair along the side of the road and removing a pebble from my shoe, I started out again, and it happened. The “it” here was a section of the course called “Heartbreak Hill”. Now I trained on hills in Iowa just to prepare for this section. It didn’t matter. Miles 16-22 were the most difficult marathon miles I have ever experienced. I am not sure what could have prepared me for this part. The first couple of miles were bad. And yes, at 18.5 miles I did wonder why I did this. I “hit the wall” around mile 20, and it hit back. There were a couple of very difficult miles. A 5K that normally takes 25 minutes now took 40 minutes. And the 5K’s which followed didn’t get any faster. Taking off too fast had caught up with me.

But everything happens for a reason. After stretching out a muscle cramp in my right calve around the 22.5 mile mark, I started walking to make sure it wasn’t going to cramp up again. I was about to pass a guy who was limping quite badly. I asked him if he had a cramp and if he was alright. And he told me his story for the next mile. He was diagnosed with a brain tumor when he was 3 and no one expected him to live, and if he did, the doctors said he would never walk. He had a neuro-physiological disease (have no idea what it is called) for which there was no cure. Two years ago he won the division for physically impaired runners in the Boston Marathon. He was hoping to do it again in 2010. But it didn’t happen- “just one of those days when I can’t control what my legs do. But no one ever gave me a chance to walk and here I am in the Boston Marathon. I am blessed.” My new friend’s name is Greg. All of a sudden my legs didn’t feel bad at all. I started running once again.

I came upon mile 24 and saw Wendy and Emily holding up a sign saying “Go Uncle Ray!” After giving them a big hug, along with a hug for Don, I was off for the final two miles. I took the headphones out of my ears and soaked up the crowd. There is nothing more encouraging than to a runner in the last few miles of a marathon than hearing the crowd cheer you on. There is a transference of energy and spirit that is indescribable. My legs were aching, my feet were killing me. I had two miles left in the Boston Marathon. I wanted it to be over, but there was a part of me that wanted it to go on forever. I turned onto Boylston St. and saw the Finish Line. I stopped in the middle of the road, threw my hands up in the air, let out a scream and started down the road. First it was a slow walk-run; then a trot; then a jog and then a full out sprint to the finish line. During that last 2/10th’s of a mile my life flashed through my heart and brain. As the tears were rolling down my face, I was once smiling from ear to ear. I felt like I had just received a Master’s and PhD degree, landed the biggest deal of my life, won the Mega Million Lottery, celebrated the birth of a baby, won the Masters Golf Tournament, and been elected President all in one moment. At the 26.2 mile mark it all became perfectly clear why I did everything I did leading to this moment in my life. I sprinted the last 100 yards and crossed the finish line.

I AM A BOSTON MARATHON FINISHER!