This is a very different blog than I had planned for. I had hoped to pack this blog full of memories, smiles, new friends, happy moments, great stories, and pictures of the after parties. Most of these things did indeed happen, but this is a very different blog than I planned for.
Throughout the weekend, I kept taking mental notes of different moments that would be great to blog about - the American Liver Foundation brunch, stories I heard, people I met, the doctors and therapists I would thank for helping get me healthy enough to finish... but that has all changed. Yes, I will write of those things, but the focus has shifted. Instead of a celebratory blog of me basking in my slow pace but finished marathon, I will tell you about what I experienced on the day that the marathon changed forever.
Marathoners are a family. When you see someone with a 26.2 on the back of their car or a race shirt from a marathon completed - you automatically have a sense of connection with that person. Only people who have run a marathon can truly relate to the experience of the full 26.2 miles. Running a marathon is quite an emotional and physical journey. From the first training run to the moment you cross the finish line - you experience highs and lows, tiredness, soreness, self doubt and a sense of accomplishment. It’s a paradox of sorts. A beautiful paradox.
I arrived in Boston on Friday eager with butterflies in my belly every time I thought about the run. I’ve been battling ITBS (IT band syndrome) for quite some time and it was so debilitating that I was unable to finish the last full marathon I had attempted. Needless to say I wasn’t sure I would be able to finish. My expectations of myself were low considering Boston is the most prestigious and fastest marathon in the world. I just wanted to finish. You usually have to qualify to run this race, so it’s considered a huge honor to run Boston. I however decided to check this off my bucketlist and run for charity. I thought - what the heck, I’ll test out the ol’ leg, do some good, and check off a bucketlist item! What a plan!
Friday when I got to the airport my aunt was in route to pick up both me and my mom who was flying in from Greensboro. I stood at the baggage carousel waiting for my luggage for quite awhile. I watched as the same bags went around and around, and finally lost all hope that my bag had made it to Boston. Images of me running the marathon naked started dancing in my head. Scary, I know. I strutted on over to the help desk where I then found out that my bag was still in Newark. I shared my naked running image with her, we both got a good laugh and she helped to reunite me with my bag 3 hours later. As soon as I saw my aunt I said - “Sheesh, if this is any indication of how this weekend is going to go...I should turn around and go home.” I had no idea what was coming...
Mom, my aunt and I drove to Nashua, NH, where we stayed with my aunt and uncle until Sunday morning enjoying dinners, catching up, ranting about the music biz and memories of past times. Sunday morning my uncle drove me into Boston where he joined me at the American Liver Foundation brunch. The brunch was over 3 hours long and it was truly an emotional 3 hours. We sat at the table with a wonderful couple - Bob Rice and his girlfriend Gwen. Bob had had a liver transplant and was doing wonderfully. He leaned over the table, shared his story, and thanked me for being a part of the team and raising money for people like him. I was beyond touched. I also found it very strange that my stepdad - who had passed away of liver cancer almost 9 years ago - was named Richard Rice, and has a brother who is still living named Bob Rice. Coincidence? I don’t think so...
We had a lovely brunch. An amazing lady had the courage to tell the story of her liver transplant and how a live donor saved her life, I met a 7 year old boy who was waiting for a liver transplant, and we got to know Bob and Gwen even more - laughing and crying together... all of these people kept profusely thanking ME for what I did, but I kept thanking THEM for the opportunity to run for them. It makes it that much more meaningful.
Brunch ended, I won a raffle, and I then went on to the expo, which was great AND where I bought some stuff I probably didn’t need and got a bunch of free crap that will probably later be thrown away. I came back to the hotel, checked in, took a nap, ran 2 miles on the treadmill, loaded up my sweet mp3 Oakleys and got ready to meet some Nashville gals for dinner at Joe’s on Newbury St. I walked over to Joe’s about 6:15pm shivering in the chilly Boston evening air looking around and taking it all in. I kept looking down the streets wondering - will I be running down this one tomorrow? I wonder if my leg will hold up long enough for me to make it to this spot... How will I feel when I get back to the hotel? Those thoughts were cut short when I made it to Joe’s and met the girls for dinner. Melanie Yappen - a Barry’s Bootcamp member had invited me to dinner because no marathoner should carbo-load alone! All of the women were small and in amazing shape. I’m pretty sure I ate more than all of them put together. We had a great dinner, and they all educated me on running Boston and what I would need tomorrow before the race. I so enjoyed this time with them. The calm before the storm.
I didn’t sleep at all on Sunday night. I kept twisting and turning and thinking I should have had a glass of wine like most of them at dinner!! I’d watch TV, doze off, then wake up with anxiety and do it all again. I’d look at the clock thinking maybe I should get up then see the time and just get pissed that I had to get up in 3 hours and run 26.2 miles on no sleep and the cycle would begin again. Next time - maybe I’ll opt for the wine. :)
I rolled out of bed at an early 4:45am, showered and headed to meet the liver team for a quick breakfast and a ride to the Athlete’s Village. I chose a table where people had some random stuff sitting there thinking I would meet some new peeps - I knew no one since I was an out of towner. A dad and his 2 sons (Chris, Nick and Jason) - all running for the ALF eventually sat down and we became fast friends. They had no idea that they just found a little leach for the trip down to Athlete’s Village and beyond... We all piled on the bus at 6:15am and rode about an hour away to the start. We kept thinking - wow - we have to run THE ENTIRE WAY back to Boston! NBD.
Once we got to the Athlete’s Village - we set up shop. we had our little section of grass with towels, blankets, magazines, tp and snacks. Let me paint the picture - imagine a cleaner version of Woodstock without the live music. Lines were 20-30 people deep for porta-potties, DJ music blaring (mostly Michael Jackson), and there were multiple tents with free bagels, coffee, waters and power bars. The ground was covered with athletes talking, sleeping, lounging, reading...anything to pass the time until we were allowed to leave for the start line.
The Boston Marathon is magical and runs deep with tradition and pride - you could feel it in the air. It was a beautiful, crisp morning, much unlike last year which I heard was unbearably hot. Me and my friends were excited, talking about our hopeful finish times and memories from past races. Finally the time came for us to leave for the start line, which was another 1-2 miles away from where we were. We hugged, wished each other luck, exchanged info, made plans for post-race drinks, packed into our corral and off we went.
The day couldn’t have been more perfect. The weather was completely ideal for running. (Note to self though - if you want to RACE a marathon - don’t start with the charity runners - it was crazy trying to weave in and out of everyone for quite a few miles.) I was stunned by the amount of people lining the streets in support - screaming, yelling, handing out oranges, water, vaseline and other marathon-necessary products. The different towns I ran through brought on new faces and new energies. The support was amazing. I kept thinking about my leg... I’d feel a tweak here and think - oh, here it goes - this is it - I’m done! But, it kept holding on. I’d go in and out between listening to the crowds and listening to music, reading the signs people had (some hilarious), and giving out high-fives to spectators. The first 20 miles I felt pretty good, but my legs started screaming at mile 20. The last 6 I decided to take it easy because I wasn’t trying to break any records (although I would have loved to have run a 3:35). I was trying to be smart and be more concerned about my leg not breaking than a new PR. I stopped to rub out my leg every water stop, took a bathroom break and tried to soak up the people. This WAS my first Boston - I was going to enjoy it despite my unhappy IT band dammit!
I saw the sign for mile 25 and let out a huge sigh of relief. The man beside me said - WE DID IT - WE’VE GOT THIS! He wished me good luck, we exchanged smiles, and we parted ways. I saw my family's faces tucked away in the crowd the last .2 of the marathon which gave me the energy for my last little surge to the finish. I crossed the finish line with a bunch of different emotions flooding through. Happiness, gratefulness, tiredness, soreness...but mainly I just felt blessed. Blessed that I was capable and able to do what I had just done. Time to check another thing off of my bucketlist. Also after crossing the finish line - I powered up my phone only to find out that I was able to share my good news that Rascal Flatts recorded one of my songs the week before (co-written with Brian White and Ben Caver) for their upcoming project. It was a GOOD day.
After finishing tons of volunteers stood there passing out waters, medals, wraps, gatorade and food. You could feel the love of the finishers around you as well as from the volunteers who slung congratulations left and right for finishing. It was a slow walk through the masses of finishers and volunteers. I made my way through all of them and found my bus with my marathon bag that I had dropped off at the start. I told the lady my number and she gingerly handed me my bag while offering her congratulations. I set my bag down to get out a dry shirt and jacket and then all of a sudden I heard a huge BOOM. It sounded like a cannon went off. I saw a cloud of smoke come out from the side of a building. Then a few seconds later - BOOM - another one. Everyone stopped and said - WHAT WAS THAT? No one had an answer.
My immediate response was that we were being attacked from above. I calmly put on my jacket and started heading to the hotel where I was to meet my family although I had no idea which direction to go. Confusion ensued. Everyone was asking what those loud booms were. I heard one person say - “I certainly hope that was a really loud firework.” People started crying and trying frantically to figure out what had happened as they tried to reach loved ones. I was able to get a text to my best friend Robin - bombs went off, people are freaking out and then - my phone died.
I hobbled as fast as I could back to the Westin to meet my family. By that time - most people were in tears, some in shock recounting what they saw at the blast, people holding on to others for dear life, and trying to reach their families on phones to no avail. I found my fam, and we then went back up to my room on the 18th floor where we watched the news in disbelief and could look down on the scene. Ambulances and police lined the block. At that point - the last thing on my mind was the fact that I had just finished running 26.2 miles. We couldn’t get through to anyone on the phone and my phone was dead anyways, but I was able to get online and let everyone know I was fine on Facebook. Once my phone recharged I was overwhelmed with texts of people wondering if I was okay. Messages, texts, Facebooks emails and posts as well as tweets came flooding in... I never knew I knew so many people and people that actually cared.
I told my mom - I always wondered if something happened to me if anyone would care and I got my answer loud and clear. It was unbelievable. Even 2 days later - I am still receiving messages of concern.
The hotel I was staying at - the Westin soon became the hub of the press conferences where the mayor would take up camp because hotel was only a block or so from the crime scene. For awhile we were in lockdown - no one was allowed to come or go from the hotel. SWAT teams and men with machine guns lined the lobby and entrance. Against my gut, my fam decided the best thing to do would be to get out of the city since we were able to. My uncle’s car was parked in Newton - a town about 15 miles away that we could reach by taxi or once we got to a place where traffic was not blocked off - someone from his work could pick us up. The thought of walking more was not appealing to me. By this time my IT band was MAD, but I rallied. We walked a mile or 2, found a taxi which took us to their van and then we were safely on the road back to New Hampshire.
We got back and became glued to the TV to find out how many had been injured or had died, and I waited to hear back from all of my friends running the race. (Most of them started in earlier corrals because they are super fast, which meant they were just fine. :) Most of the people finishing at the point of the bombings were either slower runners or charity runners - those of us who started in later corrals. As the news poured in, we sat there in disbelief. Disbelief that this happened, disbelief that someone would DO this, and disbelief that such a glorious day had been changed forever.
I have been willing to share my story with the news and radio. So many times the reality of what happened gets blown out of proportion by those who weren’t even there. I think everyone just wants to feel connected somehow though, and that’s why it happens. I will try to share my perspective on what happened as best as i can. I don’t feel like I have much to say besides for everyone to try to focus our energies on the victims now. Many people get stuck on the “what ifs.” What if I had finished 15 minutes later? What if my family had decided to go to Starbucks for a coffee and watch me finish there? What if, what if... Well, those what if’s - WEREN’T. But those what if’s WERE reality for some people, and THOSE are the people we need to spend our energy thinking about.
Lives were lost, limbs were lost, hope was lost on this day.
I heard the blasts, felt the booms in my chest and saw the smoke, but I walked away from this marathon with only a pair of really sore legs. I am grateful. I am thankful that all of my friends were okay, and my heart is broken for the victims and my running family. I do think some people will be scared to go watch a marathon or run one again, but my prayer is that we don’t let them win by being scared. This is the time to come together, run harder and more and show these cowards that they will never break our will or our fight.
This tragedy will live in my heart forever, but it will make it beat stronger. Stronger for those whose hearts no longer beat, stronger for those who lost something that day, and stronger for the will to keep going. This day will be etched in the hearts of many, but we will bind together and our family will be stronger. To me, this day will not only be remembered by the tragedy but also for all of the GOOD I saw - strangers helping one another, people willing to lend a hand in any way, and for a personal achievement of my own. To me, this day will not just be remembered by a tragedy, but also for when we became stronger runners - not physically - but emotionally because we WILL show the world that that marathoners are the toughest of tough.
Marathons will never be the same from this day forward. More people will run, more people will watch - this will NOT stop us. Yes, this was the day that the marathon changed forever, but this is the day that the marathon changed for the BETTER. Watch as the world and as runners come together to make this sport even stronger. Yes, this WAS the day that the marathon changed forever, and I’m sure glad I was there. Boston - I can't wait to see you again.
