Boston Reflections

The Boston Marathon was well over a month ago already.  While it is still very fresh in my mind, some of the trauma has worn off and I'm able to reflect on the weekend with a positive attitude.

We flew to Boston on Friday, April 15th.  Everyone was excited.  I felt overwhelmingly supported and encouraged (BOSTON cream donuts from my dear friend, Jessica...a sweet card and encouragement from my friend, Chrystal, who had listened to my training woes for months...Peanut Butter M&M's (my favorite) and a thoughtful card from my friend, Barb) prior to leaving.

 Training was done.

Carb-loading was in full swing.

I was READY!

Everything was smooth sailing until...

 Isaac came down with something nasty!

He had no appetite.

He couldn't stay awake.

He complained that his tummy hurt.

He looked green and SICK!

While Isaac slept for almost the entire day, 

the rest of the gang was all smiles.

My parents graciously stayed back with the kiddos while we went into Boston on Friday evening.  

We went to the race expo...

...found my name on the wall of runners 

(the only Hillary out of 30,000+ names)...

...and then went out for a delicious dinner!!!

The wee ones were snug as a bug when we returned, and Day One was a success!

(I can't get over how much Myles looks like Isaac in the picture below.)

Day Two was full of fun adventures and outings!

There was an awesome park right next to our hotel, 

and we spent many hours there over the weekend.

The weather was refreshingly cool...

a VERY nice break from Florida!

One of the highlights of Saturday was going to the Boston Children's Museum.  Not only was it an awesome children's museum, but we met up with some of best buddies there.  The Rickenbachs were also in Boston for the weekend, and Isaac was thrilled to spend the afternoon with his very best buddy, Kyler.

And I got to spend the afternoon with Kyler's mommy...one of my very best buddies.

Another highlight of the weekend was connecting with my great aunt and uncle, John and Elizabeth Sherrill.  They wrote "The Hiding Place" with Corrie Ten Boom (the beautiful woman after whom I was named), and we shared some special stories and memories.  This golden star was what Jews had to wear to be identified during WWII, and Corrie's family kept many Jews safe in their secret room. Amazing piece of history.

Sunday was a pretty low key day. 

We went into the city to check out the finish line area.  We enjoyed the beautiful weather.  Phil and my mom took the kids to the Boston Aquarium, and I took a nap.  That should have been my first clue that something was amiss.
I never, ever, ever take naps.

We were up early on Monday morning...race day.  Sleep is never sound the night before a race, and I was up long before my alarm.  I found myself using the bathroom WAY MORE than normal, and I tried to pass it off as pre-race jitters.  When I was unable to eat my standard pre-race breakfast, I knew something was wrong.  Pairing that with Isaac being sick, feeling the need for a nap on Sunday, and using the bathroom multiple times that morning, I knew I was way off my game.

Phil brought me into Boston Common where I got in line for the bus ride to Hopkinton.  You can only get a small sense of the enormity of it all, but it was a massive undertaking.  They had to bus 30,000 runners to the starting line that was over 30 miles away.  My dad told me to find a friend on the bus, and Shanna was one of the highlights of my day.  We sat together for the hour long bus ride and discovered so many things that we had in common...the craziest being that her husband graduated from the same high school that I did.

Anyhow...it all goes south after that!

My wave didn't start until 10:50 am.  It was already warm and humid by that time, and my body was completely empty.  I hadn't been able to keep anything down, and I knew I was dehydrated before it even began.  The first seven miles were tolerable, but that was thanks to them being all downhill.  From that point on, I was in trouble.  I kept having to stop and use the bathroom, I was completely dehydrated from all of the "evacuations," and I just didn't think it was going to be possible to endure another 19 miles.

I saw my sweet family, all clad in orange, at the 16-mile mark, and I just wanted to join them.  Walk right off the course and call it a day.  I will never forget Clare's sweet voice saying, "Just come home with us, Mama.  You don't need to run any further."  While that is exactly what I wanted to do, I also heard my encouraging husband's voice saying, "We don't care if it takes you ALL day.  We will see you at the finish line."  I knew that I had to finish.  I knew that it was going to be brutal, slow, humbling, and painful, but I HAD TO FINISH!!!

There were several tender moments of the race that I try and push to the forefront of my memory.  I will never forget this girl, Jill, who put her hand on my shoulder (while I was hunched over and walking) and said, "Do you think you can run with me for a minute?"  She stepped out of her own race to encourage me.  She slowed her pace to run next to me.  She asked me questions in efforts to take my mind of my pain.  She was such a sweet blessing and encouragement.  There was another moment where I saw a little girl, about Clare's age, who was passing out roses.  Very few people wanted to sidestep their race to grab a rose, but it was another ray of sunshine for me.  I carried that rose for over two miles until I could hand it to Clare. 

My amazing orange crew encouraged me even when I couldn't see them.  I knew that they were out there.  I knew that they were waiting for me to run (or hobble) past them, and that kept me going. 

My littlest cheerleader was a trooper through all of the train rides, large crowds, and unpredictable schedules of the day.

My other cheerleaders were the fabulous Rickenbachs.  Oh my goodness!  I don't even know what to say.  Jessica stood 1/2 mile from the finish line for the ENTIRE DAY.  She was there before the elite runners came through, and then she waited for me.  And waited.  And waited.  And waited.  I told her that I would likely be at the finish between 2:15 and 2:30, but it was well after that.  Well after!  But let me tell you...seeing their faces as I rounded the corner to the finish was such a boost.  It brought tears to my eyes to think that my friend waited all day to ENCOURAGE ME!  

Thank you!  It meant more than you will ever know!   

Rather than go into detail about the absolute breakdown of the mind and body, I will focus on the beauty of FINISHING!  It certainly wasn't anywhere near the time that I had hoped (in fact, it was almost 1.5 longer than that), and it wasn't the Boston experience that I had heard everyone talking about, but I finished.  I got to wear my medal and finisher's jacket because I endured through every mile and finished that beast!

Another special highlight was reconnecting with a college friend, Elizabeth, after the race.  Even though we hadn't seen each other since 2003, it was such a neat way to reconnect.

Once the race was over, I had a lot of processing to do, but I was still too sick to do anything but sleep.  I hardly ate for the next three days, and my body was in total recovery mode.

My legs are usually quite sore for about four days after a big race.  Little did I know that my legs were going to be the least of my concerns after Boston.  After being outside for an entire day, I incurred the worst sunburn of my life. 

I know...

SHAME ON ME!!!

This special souvenir from race day lasted quite a while, 

but it was another valuable lesson from the day.

So now, six weeks later, I am actually excited to consider Boston again.  Granted, I have to re-qualify, but I just have to believe that there is another Boston in my future.  I have to believe that my future races will be stronger for having endured that one.  And it will be pretty awesome to say that I PR'd by 80+ minutes when I do it again!  :)