October 6, 2009
October 4, 2009
October 1, 2009
September 20, 2009
Memories of the Boston Marathon 2013
I remember kissing my wife goodbye in Hopkinton. She drove me to the start. I remember everyone who stood under the heater with me. I remember the runner from Philadelphia who taught me how to make kale chips. I remember discussing the raw diet with a girl from Boston. I remember the large Chinese contingent from New York and the runner who shared his sticky rice cake with me. I remember the volunteer holding the rope at the front of my corral. He inspected my New Balance Minimus shoes and told me how he was a fore foot striker. I gave him my arm warmers from the Myrtle Beach Marathon. I remember the house party with all of the fans wearing American flag decorated clothes. I remember how loud and happy they were; how drunk they were. I could smell the beer. I remember running with a barefoot runner. I asked if he knew my cousin, Michael Sandler, who wrote Barefoot Running. I remember a lot of faces from Natick, it was packed and loud. I remember all the girls at Wellesley. It was even louder. I remember the girl with the sign that said kiss me I know CPR. I remember all of the children who handed me orange slices. I remember the volunteers who handed me water and the spectator who handed me a banana. I remember the kids who gave me high fives. I remember the volunteer who gave me Vaseline for my nipples. I remember the spectator I asked to call my wife to tell her I’d be walking it in today. I remember a screaming section in Brookline chanting for me to run again. I remember how loud they got when I started running again. They cheered louder than I have ever heard. I remember the girl on her knee who asked me to marry her. She was asking everyone. I remember the retired Army soldier who was walking backwards at mile 24. He started at 6:30 in the morning in gear with a 30 pound pack. He put his arm on my shoulder as he walked backwards and I walked forwards. He was stationed in Iraq at Abu Ghraib Prison after the abuses. He described how an IED exploded one day pointing to the sidewalk as the distance from the explosion and how he was blown across the street. He told me how he had lost his balance for 4 years but had gotten it back. He told me to go ahead and run the last mile. I’ll never forget the people I met that day. I'll never forget the Boston Marathon. I hope to see everyone next year.