Friday, April 19, 2013

Boston 2013 -- From Beginning to End

As I sit down to share my experience at last weekend's Boston Marathon, I'm still not sure where to begin or where to end.  Do I focus only on what happened after 2:50pm on Monday and those that were injured and killed?  Do I talk about the hundreds of heroes that rushed into harm's way to help?  Do I recount all the good memories that were made in the days leading up to the marathon?  Is it disrespectful to share the details of my race?  If I don't talk about the race, does that let the terrorists "win" in some small way?

After sorting through all my emotions and feelings again and again, I still don't know which is the "right" thing to do.  So I'm going to do the only thing I really know how to do -- share my Boston experience from the (happy) beginning through the (horrible) ending.

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I arrived in Boston on Friday and was so excited to spend a child-free weekend with my husband, see good friends who live in the Boston area, meet new friends in person that I knew through social media and, lastly, experience all the hype and history that surrounds the infamous marathon.

Those who know me or have been following my story know that I was pushing my training to a new level for this race.  I had hired a coach who gave me detailed training plans each week and challenged me to run harder and faster than ever before (while also giving me more rest days than I've ever taken -- I learned so much about quality versus quantity in the last few months.)

My training had been going well and all signs pointed to a great race for me on Monday...until just one week before the race when I was out for an 8 mile run.  I was on a hilly, forested trail and just 1.5 miles into the run, my left knee started to hurt right underneath the knee cap.  It is common to get little niggles early in a run that go away within a mile or two so I kept running.  This one seemed to go away for a little while but then came back strong at mile 6 when I was racing downhill back towards my car.

Long story short, I ended up doing no running at all the rest of the week and spent all my time icing my knee and resting as much as possible.  On Saturday morning in Boston, my husband and I headed out for a 3 mile jog just to loosen my legs and hopefully boost my confidence in regards to my knee.  I ended up in pain just a half mile into the run and had to turn around and walk back to our friend's house, utterly dejected.

I did my best to put any negative thoughts about my knee aside and enjoyed the next two days in Boston with friends.

my first visit to Fenway 
my dear friend, Sarah, who was waiting at the finish line for me on Monday before getting paged to come to work at the ER
Sarah taught me all about April baseball and the importance of "beer gloves"
full of hope and excitement as we met for bagels on Sunday morning
Kate and I at the finish line
we walked past the infamous CITGO sign on Saturday...I got a rush of excitement when I realized the next time I would be this close to the sign would be at mile 25

I remember the soft pink glow of the sky as I first looked outside my hotel window early Monday morning.  The day had finally arrived!  I sent my husband one last text before leaving the hotel room (I had kicked him out to stay with friends the night before the race...I always sleep horribly and it only makes it worse when the person next to me, who doesn't have a race to run, is sleeping like a baby) telling him how nervous I was about my knee.

I met up with Kate and my college friend, Sara, in the early morning hours before the race and we all rode a bus together to Athlete's Village.  Other than a major wardrobe malfunction for Kate (thanks to her dog who likes to eat underwear and had left an enormous hole in her running tights...that she somehow failed to notice earlier), the three of us were amazingly stress-free and calm before the race.  

Kate's running tights...
pre-race hug with Sara in the starting corral

As I stood at the starting line, I looked around and took in all the sights and sounds surrounding me.  The excitement, anxiety, hope and anticipation was almost palpable.  None of us knew exactly what was in store for us that day -- you never really know how your body is going to respond physically, mentally and emotionally to 26.2 miles on any given day -- but none of us could have fathomed this would be a day that would forever be etched in our hearts for reasons having nothing to do with running.

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I had told my husband that I was planning to finish the race no matter what.  That I might be walking for long portions of it -- or limping along -- as my knee was going to dictate the race.  I resolved to start off slow and just take it one step at a time.  I planned to see him at our pre-arranged meeting spots of mile 9 and 16 and then at the finish line.  

If all went well and I had no knee issues whatsoever, I was hoping to run a 3:30 marathon.  As I assessed my chances that morning, I gave myself a 10% likelihood of this actually happening.  Suddenly, the race began and I cruised along at an easy pace on the initial downhill sections.  The miles slowly but surely ticked off one by one.  I waved enthusiastically at my husband and friends at mile 9 and continued on.  Another wave and a quick kiss from my husband at mile 16 before I hit the toughest part of the course -- the infamous hills from mile 17-21 that culminate with Heartbreak Hill.  

all smiles at mile 16

I trudged up and down what felt like endless hills after mile 17 and wasn't paying enough attention to know when I had actually finished with Heartbreak Hill.  I was too distracted by the hundreds of thousands of screaming spectators that were lining the course.  

I have run other "big" marathons in the past, most notably Chicago and NYC, but this was unlike anything I had ever experienced.  While the crowds at NYC are huge, I didn't always find them to be loud.  Boston was different from that perspective.  The spectators were literally screaming their encouragement the entire length of the course, not just along the famous Wellesley corridor.  I had brought my ipod along just in case I needed some extra motivation but found I didn't need it even once. I can't say enough good things about the people that came out to scream and yell their encouragement as well as offer anything from wet sponges to ice pops to oranges to keg stands.  (Yes, someone had a "free keg stands to runners" sign and a keg nearby!)

I did my best to run only by feel and was continually amazed that my knee remained pain-free.  And every glance at my watch told me I was running right on pace to reach my goal.  The only real annoyance during my run was the fact that I needed to go to the bathroom.  It was just a matter of when I would stop and whether or not I could make it the entire distance without running into a porta potty along the course.  (The downside of having no pre-race jitters was my inability to take care of the all-important pre-race poop...I know all of you runners reading this will understand!)  Ultimately, I gave in to the growing demand from my body and ran into a bathroom at mile 22.

The last few miles were a blur.  I distinctly remember finding myself with a huge grin on my face as I high-fived children and adults alike.  The roar of the crowd, while already deafening, continued to grow as I took a left turn on Bolyston street and saw the finish line looming before me.

I crossed the line and looked down to see a 3:30:30 on my watch.  A 5 minute PR for me on the first marathon since my 40th birthday on what is a difficult course.  I couldn't have been happier.  As I stumbled through the finish line corral, I collected a bottle of water, bottle of gatorade, protein bar, bag of food and a foil to keep me warm.  Lastly, someone put a finisher's medal around my neck and tears immediately welled up in my eyes.  I had done it.  All those months of hard work and I had reached my goal.  


As I gathered my bag from the baggage bus, I could hear my husband and Sarah yelling my name.  I exited the runner's-only area and was greeted with hugs and congratulations.

my biggest supporter

We chatted for a few minutes at the finish line and then started back towards our hotel.  It was a mile walk that led us through the Boston Common.  I was planning to take a quick ice bath and shower and then we were going to head out to celebrate.  

Just as we arrived at the hotel, Sarah received a text from the hospital where she works, alerting her to explosions at the finish line.  I was so confused.  I couldn't even process the words at first.  An explosion?  Two explosions?  The finish line of the marathon?!

Within minutes, my husband and I began to receive frantic texts and phone calls from friends and family that were worried about our safety.  I was immediately concerned for all the other friends I had running the race, their friends and family, and the thousands of other runners and spectators that were still out there.  Our attempts to check on others were impeded by the fact that the police had shut down cell towers in case more bombs were going to be detonated by cell phones.  

The anxiety only grew as we were told we should evacuate the city.  Sarah ended up having to run (literally) to the hospital as she couldn't find a taxi while her friend drove us out of the city and dropped us off at Sarah's house.  We ultimately heard back that all our friends were safe but our anguish and despair only increased as reports came back with casualties, stories of limbs being ripped from bodies, erroneous reports of additional bombs throughout the city and the knowledge that thousands of runners were separated from family and friends.  

The emotions were overwhelming and I found myself crying often over the next few hours as we sat at our friend's house and tried to comprehend what had just happened.  We couldn't help but think what if?

What if my knee hadn't held out and I had been still on the course and my husband had gone to stand with Sarah (at her spot between where the two explosions occurred)?  
What if we had decided to go back to the sidelines and cheer for our friends that were still out there?
What if my parents and kids had been with us (as we had planned at one point)?
What if Sarah had stayed a while longer instead of meeting us?

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on our way home -- never have I been so happy to see the sun rise

In the end, we were among the lucky ones.  So why is it that I feel so traumatized?  Why is it that when my friend, Marya, sends me a text asking simply "How are you?", I find myself suddenly crying?  Why is it that I still don't feel safe??

My heart is still a mix of emotions right now -- from gratitude that we were spared to heartbreak for those injured and killed to anger at the suspects to guilt that I was able to finish the marathon to fear that next time I will not be so lucky.

Whenever I have something I need to sort through in my heart or in my head, I go for a run.  Unfortunately, my body is deep in recovery mode and I am still not yet able to run.  I am not able to do the one thing that I so desperately need to do right now.

But I know that I will run again.  And I will run Boston again.  And I will volunteer at the finish line of an upcoming race.  And I will continue to be part of this amazing running community that I love so much.  

And Boston 2013 will forever have a place in my heart.  

34 comments:

  1. Beautiful post, Kristen, as always. You definitely have a way with words. Your race story is NOT insignificant-- it is beautiful. I am so proud of you and overjoyed that you hit that 3:30! You are my hero.

    I have had a ton of "what ifs" as well. What if I walked up those hills? What if I stopped to use the restroom? Would I have crossed the finish line at that terrible moment? It's terrifying and heartbreaking.

    I hadn't allowed myself to really let it all out until Wednesday when I completely lost it. I can't tell you how many hours I cried. We will never forget that day. I am so grateful that I was finally able to meet you, hug you and spend time with you. This experience makes me appreciate friendships and running more than ever before.

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    1. Kate, I was so, so, so relieved to get your text on Monday telling me that you were okay. I was so worried about you and couldn't get through to your phone. Way to go and push up those hills!

      I'm happy (in a weird way) to hear that you cried for hours on Wednesday, only because I hope that helped you to process everything. I just can't wait to hug you again in six short weeks! Thank you for being such a sweet soul and my kindred spirit. xoxo

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  2. Ah I've been waiting your beautiful words. As always, you capture things so wonderfully. thank you for writing. And so so glad you had a good race...congrats to you. I don't have too many words right now...still processing . But just glad to read yours. And your pictures are always so lovely too...You have a good eye.

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    1. Thanks for the congrats, Amanda. Of course, the way the day ended puts it all in perspective but sharing the "race" part of my story is still part of my story.

      I look forward to reading the rest of your thoughts as you continue to process...your words are like windows into your spirit. So happy I got the chance to see you again in Boston and I am so excited for your adventure in North Carolina.

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  3. Big smiles on my face as I read about your race. Congratulations! I am so happy for you that your knee and your body cooperated. The pictures of you at the finish are gorgeous. I completely understand how you are feeling and what you are experiencing. In the middle of this it is nice to read about your victorious race. May you find ways to CELEBRATE it despite the interruption to that celebration on Monday.

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    1. I think you took one of those finish line pics, Carissa! It was so great to see your smiling face when I could barely walk/stand. :)

      I think writing about the race has been a celebration of sorts for me...just telling my story helped me to sort through my emotions. I hope you continue to heal as well and I would LOVE a trail run together some weekend!

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    2. Did I take that pic? Funny. That's sounds familiar now that you say it. :) Writing during this time has helped me too. I've yet to write a race recap but I think I'll be ready to do so next week. A trail run would be a fantastic idea. Let's definitely do that. How is your knee this week? Are you ready to continue your training for Newport? I'm resting right now for two weeks.

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    3. I look forward to hearing your story, Carissa. We all had such different experiences and yet are all dealing with some of the same feelings and emotions in the aftermath. As far as I can tell, my knee seems okay. But my quads are really suffering and we're on day 5 so I don't really understand it. It could be because I wasn't able to do any of my usual recovery stuff (didn't take a cold/ice bath, didn't eat/drink almost anything until 8pm, etc) or the hills were really hard on my legs. My left quad in particular actually "hurts" instead of being just sore so I don't know if I pulled or strained it or what is going on.

      I'm hoping to get back to easy running starting on Monday and then we'll see how the next six weeks goes!!

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  4. Dammit, Kristen, stop making me cry. -Drew

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    1. Aww, Drew, you always were a bit of a girl like that - ha! Miss you, my dear friend. xoxoxo

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  5. First, CONGRATULATIONS on your outstanding race! I am so happy your knee cooperated for it :)

    Your narrative of events here is so well written. I can feel the emotions and it is just like i was there. All the questions that you had after the race, it is just part of trying to rationalize the irrational.

    I hope your heart is healed soon over this conflict so you can have a guilt-free celebration of your new PR. You earned it.

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    1. Thanks, Raina, for your wise words. I suppose I know on some level that I will never be able to make sense of all of this but it feels so raw and big and out there -- like it needs to be dealt with and categorized and put in the right place.

      A friend sent me a text before the race that said "Your knee is perfect and healthy." I repeated that mantra during the early miles until I just forgot to even think about it anymore. So, so blessed that day.

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  6. So funny how technology can link us. I thought of you immediately when I heard about the bombing. I would not have know you were running if not for facebook. So that is where I went to confirm you were safe. Congrats on your run. Truly inspirational. I love your spirit about running again. I was touched by your post!

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    1. Amy, so good to hear from you! Yes, as much as I claim to hate FB, I love it for the old friends it has brought back into my life. Thanks for checking up on me and sharing your sweet words. Means so much to me to hear from you! xo

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  7. Kristen- very, very well written! I know just want you mean about trying figure out where to even start such a recap. I think it is good to remember the whole weekend- not just the horrific events of Monday afternoon. I like to remember the good parts about Boston and there were so, so many of them. I'm so glad your n=knee did hold up and you were able to do exactly what you told your husband you would do- finish. Not everyone was able to do that with this race. Great run on Monday!

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    1. I do feel so lucky and blessed that my knee held up...I honestly did not expect to be running pain-free for even one mile, let alone 26.2. I know you ran an AMAZING race and I loved reading all the good parts about your weekend in the days leading up to the marathon, too.

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  8. Congrats on your awesome race! So glad the knee didn't affect you. I often get "phantom" aches and pains the week before a big race...yours sounded more serious but I'm glad it wasn't! My number was 16343 so we were in the same corral! Boston is such an incredible experience in so many ways. The horrific events that happened after we finished have affected our experiences, and I sometimes feel guilty talking about what a great race I had, but all that happened before the explosions. And I feel that if we can't celebrate our achievements, then the evil that entered the day wins. I hope to see you in Boston next year!

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    1. Yes, the "phantom" pains are so common and I did everything I could in the week ahead to convince myself that it was all just in my head. But it really was hurting every time I tried to run (or walk). I ended up going to the expo the day before the race and bough myself one of those knee straps. I'd never worn one before in my life but wore one for the race. Who knows if that made the difference...I'm just so thankful I could run.

      We definitely were in the same corral! So happy to know that you had a great race, too, even though the accomplishment was so quickly (and rightly) overshadowed. But our achievements still should be celebrated. Love wins!

      Nothing will keep me away from Boston 2014. :)

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  9. Wow, Kristen. I felt like I was right there with you from beginning to end. You are a beautiful writer. I just went through so many emotions in the last few minutes, reading this, that I almost feel exhausted. I'm really happy that you decided to share your marathon experience. I know for me, when something scary and tragic happens, I NEED all the positives to keep things in healthy perspective. You accomplished something so great (!) and that should be celebrated! Afterall, that's why all those people were there at the finish line to begin with... to celebrate loved ones' achievements. Wishing you a speedy recovery so you can get out for a head-clearing, healing run. Many many hugs to you!

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    1. I think you are right that remembering the positives helps us to remember that life isn't dark, evil, scary and full of fear. Sure, there are moments that are like that but we have so much to be thankful for. So many reasons to be grateful.

      Hope you are feeling good and ready for Eugene! :)

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  10. Hi Kristen, Just started following your blog. Congrats on your PR and great job recapping your Boston experience, happy and sad!

    I am a Marathon Coalition runner and made it to mile 25.5 when we all came to a sudden halt. So I am on the other side of this coin. If I had run faster, not stopped at the placed I did, and if my family had not been running a few minutes late we could have been in the middle of this tragedy. I struggle with the "what if's" and the senseless pain, suffering, and loss that occurred at such a historic event. My first thought was that I would never want to run Boston again because I could not bear the thought of how we were all running toward such imminent danger. After crying A LOT and talking with running friends and reading wonderful posts like yours, I think I can...again!! Thank you and I look forward to following you.

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    1. Ugh, Kay, my heart goes out to you knowing that you made it to mile 25.5! Although, any faster and you could have been in grave danger. I am sure you were so worried about your family, knowing that they were somewhere in Boston cheering you on.

      Honestly, right after all of this happened, I turned to my husband and said "Well, that was my first and last Boston. I will NEVER run it again." What a difference a few days makes. I know that I will not only run it again but that I will be there next year.

      I hope you decide to run Boston again. I need more friends to hang out with in the corral! :) xoxo

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  11. Congratulations on finishing Boston.

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  12. Thank you for sharing your story. I am not surprised you are so upset, I am upset and I can't even imagine how you would feel being so close. Just horrific.

    I'm so happy that you ran and you had a PR run! And that you plan to run again! We can't live in fear!

    I'm so sorry that this happened to you, the running community, in beautiful Boston. That things like this ever happen. Just horrific.

    Keep on running!

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    1. One thing that has helped me overcome my fear was hearing so many, many stories about first responders rushing to help, strangers opening up their homes to stranded runners and people all over the country who have supported Boston this week. Simply amazing to witness it and realize how much GOOD there is in the world!

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  13. Congrats on a huge PR! Is isn't amazing how pains that pop up during taper will just disappear race day? I never understand that but it happens often. Your bright pictures and PR race review put a smile on my face. Half that day was a wonderful day and I'm glad you chose to talk about that and I am sorry that you had to deal with the rest of that tragic day. Again, big Congrats on your PR!

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    1. Yes, crazy that a pain that kept me from running more than a half mile just disappears on race day. (Although, it has since reappeared...so I don't know if it is just adrenaline or excitement that keeps it away?!) Thanks, Kris!

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  14. Congrats on your PR and I'm so glad your knee was ok too! I'm so sorry for what you experienced, and I am so glad you and your friends are all ok. I can't even imagine what you're going through. I'm glad that this hasn't stopped you from running it next year!

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    1. I will admit that the night of the marathon, I turned to my husband and said I would never run Boston again. But within days, I knew I would be back for next year!

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  15. I can't believe I didn't comment on this. Did I email you? That week is a blur. I am - firstly - of course so happy that you and yours are okay. Secondly - like you I am devastated by what has happened and so sad for all those people affected by the events of that day. And I can really understand your conflict between a day that went so triumphantly -3:30 is SMOKING fast! - and ended so tragically. Sending you all my love and go and have fun running with Kate in a few weeks!

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    1. I think you emailed me, Petra! I felt so loved after the marathon when I saw the huge outpouring of love and concern for my safety from so many, including you. :) I wish you could join Kate and I as we run our next marathon. I saw that you are thinking of running on on June 1st, also?!!!

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  16. I had a similar malfunction with a dog and running tights as your friend, too funny. Congrats on a great race! 5min PR! Wow. Glad the knee held it together for you. Thankful that you had a speedy race and your friends/family/you were kept out of harms way!

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