The Boston Marathon

Before I became a runner, I didn't pay much attention to upcoming marathons or any other races for that matter. But, once I started running, I paid attention to every article, Facebook post or motivational running story I saw. One story really hit home for me. It was the story of Bobbi Gibb, the first woman to run and complete the Boston Marathon in 1966.

I couldn't believe that just 8 years before I was born, women weren't even allowed to run in marathons! But, this brave lady crashed the Boston Marathon and ran anyway - and she finished, even though people were trying to push her off the course.

I had heard this story many times and seen many pictures of her, and although I haven't run in that marathon, it's held a special place in my heart because of the history that was made there so many years ago.

When I first started running, it was just a part of my training for the Tough Mudder. I had decided to do this insane obstacle course, which entailed running through live electric wires, over burning logs, through mud pits, under barbed wire, through dumpsters of ice water and over walls. It was something I never thought I could do...but, it was something I truly wanted to accomplish.

When I announced to people that I was planning to do this, many people didn't believe me. Some even made fun of me, saying I would have to run with the "remedial" group of runners, and others told me that it wasn't "me."

The story of Bobbi finishing the Boston Marathon was one of the things that inspired me during my training for Tough Mudder, and ultimately inspired me to finish multiple races that year, including the Philadelphia Marathon in November of 2012.

Running (especially in races,) has been my personal therapy over the past year. It's given me a place where I feel stronger and more powerful than ever before, both mentally and physically. It's an escape for me, and I know it is for many other runners.

When I heard about the explosions at the finish line yesterday, I was in shock and disbelief. My safe place, my refuge and my source of strength had been attacked. I thought about the horror at the finish line and cried for the people who were killed or catastrophically injured. I thought about my friend Mary, who was running the Boston Marathon for the first time that day, and wondered if she and her husband were OK.

I  thought about the runners who never got to cross the finish line, and those runners who kept running to the local hospitals to donate blood to the victims. I thought about the people who rushed towards the injured to do whatever they could to help, and I thought about the people who opened their homes to those who had nowhere to go after the attack.

I was sad about all of it, and I'm still sad about it and trying to make sense of it. I guess that's partially why I'm writing this blog post. Writing about things sometimes helps me to make sense out of them.

One thing I've realized from all of this is that there is so much more good in this world than bad. Horrible things happen, and I'm not minimizing any of the horror of this attack. But, there are so many moments of goodness that can be spotted along the way.

Hobie Call, who is one of my idols in the obstacle racing community posted this picture on his Facebook page today.

It's so true. We don't know who launched the attack on The Boston Marathon yet, but there were countless "helpers" assisting the injured and even people who weren't there who were praying for everyone's safety.

There were also "helpers" forming a human shield around Bobbi Gibb so she sould finish the marathon without being pushed off the course by people who didn't want her there. There were also lots of "helpers" in my life who helped me to realize that I could attain my goals, regardless of what other people thought or said to me.

I'm supposed to race in the Broad Street Run on May 5th. It's one of the most popular races in the nation, and they're talking about stepping up security, but warning that there's no way to completely prevent another attack.

Honestly, running in the Broad Street Run is scary to me now. I've never been scared to run a race, but the terror experienced at the Boston Marathon yesterday has crept into me, as I'm sure it has crept into many people.

But, I won't let it stop me from running in that race. I will push my fear aside, and cross the finish line for the runners who couldn't cross the finish line yesterday and for the people who were injured so badly that they will never be able to run again. I will do it for those who risked their lives to help the injured runners and spectators, and I will do it for myself as yet another reminder that anything is possible, even in the wake of a tragedy.

A Run With My Son

This post is dedicated to my son, Zachary. Last year, shortly after I started exercising and running, Zachary joined me at some of my races for the kids’ 1 mile fun run beforehand, and even participated in the Y track league for kids. Summer came and went, and then he went back to school in the fall. Shortly after school started, I took the kids up to the Poconos to do a Jr. Spartan race, and Zachary got his first race medal. He asked me for a medal hanger so he could display it, and I got him one for Christmas.

 

During the winter months, my racing schedule had slowed down, and we didn’t really talk much about running. 2013 had arrived, and I started doing races again. I would casually mention to the kids that I was doing a race, but they didn't seem very interested. When the first race of the Bucks 5K series arrived at the Y, I asked the kids if they wanted to do the fun run. It was their first race last year, and mine too. They all gave me a definitive no, and I didn’t pressure them to join me.

 

A couple of weeks later, Zachary said to me, “Mom, do kids run marathons?” I told him I didn’t know if a kid ever ran a marathon before, but that I didn’t see any kids running at my marathon in November. He asked me why no kids were running, and I said, “Well, I guess because it’s really hard to run a marathon. You have to run 26 miles and that’s really far, so most kids get too tired and have to stop running.”

 

Then, he said, “Mom, could I run a marathon?” I told him that he could definitely run a marathon if he practiced really hard. I told him he would need to practice running some shorter races first, and then he could work his way up to running a marathon. He told me he wanted to run a race that was longer than a mile, and I told him he could run with me at my 5K race that Sunday.

 

On race day, he was so excited. At the starting line, he told me he wanted to go to the front, but I told him it was safer to stay in the middle, because the really fast runners get to go first. Then, he told me he wanted to warm up. He started doing jumping jacks, sit ups and squats on the grass. He told me his gym teacher, "Mr. Funny Foster" taught him a trick for running. He taught him to breathe very slowly while he was running, so he could run for a longer period of time. I told him that was a very good trick, and he should try that.

 

The loudspeaker came on, and they played the national anthem. Zachary grabbed my hand. Then, they started playing the theme from Rocky and Zachary smiled at me. The loudspeaker said, “Runners, take your mark.” Zachary planted his feet like he was getting ready to run an Olympic sprint. The foghorn sounded and we were off.

 

Zachary is so competitive, he kept looking behind him to make sure he was still in front of a bunch of people. I had to keep reminding him to look forward and not backwards. I told him not to worry about who was behind him, and focus on where he was going so he wouldn’t trip. I thought to myself about that advice.

 

The advice I gave to Zachary about not looking back applies to so many things in life. The past is the past. If you keep looking back, you’ll miss the amazing things ahead of you. Running makes me very philosophical. It’s really the only time I have to myself without distraction, and even though I was looking out for Zachary during this race, I still found myself thinking very clearly about all kinds of things going on in my life – and making peace with them.

 

I also told Zachary at different times during the race not to stop running, and to keep moving. There were a couple of times when I saw him slowing down and almost walking. I told him to keep using his little bouncy jogging steps, even when he got tired. I told him the little tiny jogging steps would give him the rest when he needed it, but it would also help him to keep moving and prevent him from wanting to stop.

 

I was also thinking about how this applied to life. It’s  so hard to get motivated to start something again if you completely stop, whether it’s dieting, yard work, housecleaning, or even getting a relationship back on track. You can’t neglect things (or people) in your life and stop paying attention to them. When you do, it’s extremely hard to get them going again.

 

During various parts of the race, Zachary grabbed my hand for support. I held his hand, but he was really the one doing all of the work. He just needed to know I was there for him. He did an amazing job during the race, and adults and fellow runners were cheering for him along the course. I told them it was his first 5K and he beamed and started running even faster. I couldn’t have been more proud.

When we approached the finish line, I stayed right next to him. He was sprinting just like I do at the end of a race. I didn’t tell him to do this…I think it was just his instinct. He was so proud of himself. We stood at the finish line for a little bit and watched some of the other runners cross. I told him that he beat all of those people behind us, and he couldn’t stop smiling.

 

We looked at the printed race results after the race, and he asked me what place he came in. He finished that race in 33 minutes and 57 seconds – 360^th place. I told him that he was number 360, but he beat almost a hundred people in that race. When we called my parents on the way home, he was proud to tell them that he beat almost a hundred people. I was so proud of him for focusing on the positives, and I felt so blessed for everything running has brought to my life – and now to my son’s life too.