Boston Marathon 2014 - Blood, sweat, and tears. And sweat.

Getting to Boston is never easy for any runner.  This year was especially trying for me. I didn't run this race for time; I was thrilled to just be there.  Instead of a race report, I will just describe some of what I saw and how I will remember the day.

As we walked to the start line in Hopkington, some generous locals offered free supplies to runners --  Beer, donuts, and cigarettes.  That cracked me up, and it set the tone for race day.  The crowd was incredible.  Spirits were high.

I cannot tell you how many kids I slapped high-fives with.  I have run other large races and the crowds are always great.  The crowd at Boston is something truly special.



Another sign I saw later, during the race:

Smile if you peed a little.  

Now tell me, how do you not smile when you read that?


I wore Ryan's University of Arkansas shirt and all day long I got to hear yankees call the hogs.  Woo pig sooie.

Go hogs!  Razorbacks!

Go Arizona Razorbacks, wait, what?  Lol.

The Wellesley scream tunnel at mile 13 is a favorite among runners.  It isn't a tunnel at all.  It is a long line of screaming coeds offering cheers and kisses.  "Kiss me I'm Irish."

I would feel creepy getting a kiss from those girls at my age, but I have often joked that if the professor ladies came out to support the runners, well...

As luck would have it, I saw the sign, "Kiss me I'm a Professor".  Finally, my chance!  Was I serious?  Shelly would understand, right?

Then I looked down at the person holding the sign.  It was a dude.

After the race, we made our way to the subway.  It was packed and we got stuck on a train for 45 minutes.  Just like last time, the riders were all very kind and allowed runners to sit.

As I sat there and waited, a little girl handed me a post-it note and a pen.  She asked for my autograph.  Awww.  She was the sweetest little 4th grader you ever saw.

 I signed it of course.  Then we had time to chat with her and her mom and her little brother.  Her name was Michelle.  We talked about how long they had lived in Boston, after moving from New York.  We talked about the race.  We talked about where we were from.  Shelly, the librarian, talked with her about her favorite books.

Her little brother, a second grader named Jason, asked to see my medal.  I told Shelly to grab the camera as I put it around his neck.  His mom took his picture too, as he beamed a huge smile.  I won't post that picture publicly.  Instead, I will keep it on the shelf next to my medal.  That is how I will remember this race.