Boston Marathon

One day after our half marathon here at the Outer Banks, thousands of the best runners in the world were congregating in Hopkinton, Massachusetts, to run the iconic Boston Marathon.  Just barely qualifying in 2009 - by 2 minutes and 38 seconds - I ran Boston in 2011, the crowning achievement in my humble running career, and a race I will never forget.  Martha bought me a book for Christmas in 2009 that described the course in minute detail, from the hills of Newton (including the infamous Heartbreak Hill) to the famous Citgo sign to the final turn down Boylan Street, so I knew what to expect.  I was in one of the last waves of runners, but I remember walking to my starting corral, looking back, looking forward, and seeing nothing but runners, thousands and thousands of them, a rainbow of hats and shirts.  "I can't believe I'm here!" I said out loud, and those around me laughed in agreement.

It took awhile to find the proper channel on the TV in the living room, which has not been turned on since we arrived other than to listen to the gentle music on a station called "Soundscapes," the screen covered with a towel.  I learned that Tiger Woods won the Masters, and I was happy for him, but it may have been easier to find that channel on TV.  Who wants to watch 50,000 runners, after all, jostling shoulder to shoulder, often facing frightening weather conditions like that cold rain last year?  But it is our sport, and so I rooted for Desi Linden, last year's winner, and Jordan Hasay with her long blond ponytail, just as much as golf fans in sports bars around the nation rooted for Tiger.

It was an exciting race, too!  The Ethiopian, Worknesh Degefa, only 5'-1", went to the lead almost immediately in the women's race, gained a three-minute lead, and stayed there, as the chase pack wondered if  she would fall apart in the Newton Hills.  It was only her third marathon and she had not previewed the course.  Edna Kiplagot, alone among the women, realized she was not going to fall apart at all and put on a heroic effort to catch her, but there was not enough time left until the finish.  We were happy to see Americans Jordan Hasay come in third and Desi Linden fifth; they will both earn points toward making the U. S. Olympics team.

The men's race was equally exciting, as three Africans gradually pulled ahead of the rest of the runners in the last miles, running almost shoulder to shoulder, and finally nearly sprinting to the finish line at an unheard-of pace.  The winner was the Kenyan Lawrence Cherono, an experienced distance runner, who managed to dig deep and find that extra gear in the final seconds.

It is humbling to watch athletes like these who are at the top of their game.  What is more amazing is that they were running about twice as fast as we were running on Sunday.  Cherono's time was 2:07:57; I was only able to run faster than four hours twice over the course of my 20 marathons.

Our friend Anthony was running, too - his ninth Boston Marathon.  He is an amazing athlete, but he ran into trouble, his hamstrings cramping in Mile 17, but limped painfully to the finish, determined to claim that medal.  A nurse in the medical tent at Mile 22 looked concerned, he said.  But, as he reported on Facebook, "Before she could decide to pull me out of the race - and she looked like she was about to - I took off limping back into the street.  I really wanted that finishers medal!  And I got it!  That last 4 miles weren't easy, but running marathons (or limping for big parts of them) isn't supposed to be.  After all, that's kind of the whole idea."

That is the whole idea, and we are just as proud of Anthony as we are of Degefa and Cherono, and the unknown runner we watched on TV, almost collapsing, shuffling along in agony, as two runners propelled him forward with his arms over their shoulders toward that finish line and that medal.