"Right on Hereford, Left on Boylston": My Journey with the Boston Marathon

When I was in high school, I was a mid-distance runner.  I had NO desire to run any distance remotely close to a marathon – a road 5K was a stretch for me, and I only ran a track 3K a couple times.

When I was in college, I still wanted to be a mid-distance runner (more on that in a future post!).  We ran workouts at “marathon pace” (aka, steady state or 80% run) and I had no clue how anyone could ever hold that pace or effort for 26.2 miles.

When I was in graduate school for physical therapy, I took up running again after a year or so off and gradually regained my strength and stamina.  I still had ZERO interest in the marathon, and told people the only way I’d run a marathon was if it was Boston.

And then came April 15, 2013, the 117th running of the Boston Marathon.  I had shut off the livestream coverage early because I needed to get to my work study job, where I worked in a senior fitness program led by exercise physiologists, one of whom was a marathoner herself.  Partway into my shift, I got a text from a classmate saying she was glad I wasn’t running Boston – I thought it was strange that she would (a) know it was the marathon day, as she wasn’t an obsessed runner like I was (and still am!), and (b) be happy I wasn’t in such an amazing and prestigious race. 

Then I found out why.  Two pressure-cooker bombs went off right by the finish line of the marathon.  The explosions occurred around the time I probably would have been finishing the race, had I been there.  I had friends in that race (who fortunately were all safe).  My running community was hurt – physically and emotionally.

And so, my love for the marathon began.  That was the day I committed to running a marathon, with the intent of qualifying for and then running in the 2014 Boston Marathon.

I made it.  I ran my first marathon in a time of 3:28:01 – good enough for acceptance into Boston, which had a 3:35 standard for my age group at the time … and good enough for not going down stairs normally for several days! 

My first experience in Boston was, well, unforgettable.  We drove there on Easter Sunday, less than 24 hours before the start of the race.  I had just enough time for packet pick-up, a quick shakeout run, then meeting up with my family for dinner before heading to my friend’s hotel room, where I slept on the floor and ate oatmeal made via coffee pot for breakfast.  I remember getting off the bus in Hopkinton, stepping into the bathroom line, coming out of the porta-potty and getting right back in line (because the lines took that long, and I was hydrating/snacking the whole time!).  Walking out to the start line and getting into the corrals was unreal.  I WAS ABOUT TO RUN BOSTON.  I got chills as I crossed the starting line (and again right now as I write this, too), and my eyes teared up.  I WAS RUNNING BOSTON! 

With my very limited marathon experience, and a first-timer in Boston, I of course struggled and debated dropping out (I didn’t – and that fueled my motivation for wanting to run it better next time!!).  But that’s beside the point here.  The point of me running was to prove the resilience and strength of the running community, in the wake of the tragedy of 2013.

2014 was the year that Meb Keflezighi won – the first American winner since 1983 – and he ran it FOR the people of Boston, FOR the victims of the bombing, FOR the running community.  And I was in that race (again, chills as I write this!) – I was a part of something monumental, important, unforgettable. 

Every year on April 15, One Boston Day, we remember and honor those who were so deeply impacted by the events of that day.  We remember that we will rise up to a challenge and fight to the end, whether that is personal, in our small community, or on a global scale. 

This year, on Patriots’ Day, there is no Boston Marathon.  We are in the midst of a global health crisis.  Once again, we have the opportunity to prove just how tough we are, and that we will come out the other side. 

2013 was only the beginning for me with my journey with the Boston Marathon.  I ran it again in 2016 – and, having had more marathons under my belt by then, I ran it smarter, and it was a much more physically enjoyable experience.  Emotionally, I’m not sure anything can compare to how I felt in 2014, with the roaring crowds lining the course, taking that last right onto Hereford and left onto Boylston to the finish line.

To quote Martin Luther King, Jr.: “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that.  Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”  What was designed as a terrorist act to harm and destroy sparked in me – and in many others – a deep love and respect for marathons and the running community as a whole.  That is something that no person or act can take away.

-Megan James, PT DPT