Boston Marathon 2013

Everyone who knows me well knows that I like to write; for the most part the experience is vividly clear in my mind… After having experienced an event that was both tragic and triumphant, I felt the need to memorialize my thoughts and emotions. Time has a way of blurring the details and I want to remember this event not only for myself but for others that may ask about 4/15/13 at some point in the future.  

By this time everyone has seen the images and heard the stories. There is not a great deal that I can add to the general knowledge of the day. What I can do is recount the story from the perspective of our small group and the many amazing twists of fate that allowed us to remain safe.

I had traveled to Boston with a group of great friends for what would be my last marathon. Seven is a lucky number, so I figured this provided a perfect opportunity to “retire” from a distance with which I have always had an unmitigated love/hate relationship. The best part of the journey/saga, I would be there with Jennifer Seibel, Jason Ruth, Terry and Jamie Massey with whom I have covered many miles and participated in many events over the last several years. Our group would swell to seven as Jason’s good friend Rochelle Wilkerson would join our gathering as would Brittani Annan, who had flown in the night before to provide the group with some post-race massage work. Although unknown to me, she was a close friend of Jason, Jen, and the Massey’s. Needless to say, they are both special friends now.

Not surprisingly, we all had a terrific time enjoying the pre-race pageantry and charm that is associated with one of the most prestigious marathons in the world, in a city that fascinated and captivated each of us. I served as amateur Historian for the group (hopefully they didn’t mind). It was a truly breathtaking experience to be in a region / city that represents the birth of our country.  

The larger the group, the more complex the logistical plan… As Monday (race day) drew closer, our veteran Boston Marathoners Jen and Jason suggested a plan that mirrored the plan they had chosen in 2012. We knew that Jen and Jason (legitimate three hour marathoners) would finish well ahead of Terry, Rochelle, and me, so we set a convergence point for 755 Boylston Street (Starbucks) right near the finish line. Jamie and Brittani would find parking as close as possible to this point and make their way to the Starbucks as well. It was a great plan (or at least we thought). On Saturday, we toured the Finish Line (caps intentional) and Jen mentioned that it would probably be best to avoid the crowd on Boylston post-race and make our way to Starbucks via Newbury (the next street over). We had a post-race plan; all that was required now was a 26.2 mile personal ordeal and then we could celebrate the moment with 26,000 runners and countless spectators.

As expected, Jen and Jason held up their part of the bargain and triumphantly (when you run that fast, I can’t select a better word) made their way to the now well-known Starbucks on Boylston to await the rest of us as discussed.

I finished my private 26.2 mile ordeal feeling somewhat bittersweet; I enjoyed the run in many ways and even managed to “smell the roses” knowing that it would be the last one for me. Until mile 23 or so, story for another day…

I crossed the finish line and was immediately processed through a series of post-race traditional courtesies. For anyone who has run a marathon, they know the strange mix of euphoria, fatigue, gratitude, and relief that is swirling through your system at this point. I have experienced it many times and though it is very familiar, it is also quite unique. After receiving my Finisher’s Medal, a metallic wrap, a host of fluids, several bananas, and a few other items that escape me now, I made my way to one of the countless yellow buses lining the finisher chute that held my personal items. After changing shirts, I made a decision that most likely saved me from being in the infamous “wrong place, at the wrong time.” Again, one would need to be a marathoner to truly understand this… I actually SAT ON THE GROUND AND CHANGED MY SHOES AND SOCKS. Sitting prone on the ground is a dicey proposition after 26.2. I did it, and it was a SLOW undertaking, thankfully…

My next move was equally fortuitous. I wandered over to the metal railing and proposed to scale the roughly four foot fence in order to get to the Starbucks more quickly; luckily for me, no way, no how… The legs just wouldn’t cooperate; I later learned that Rochelle had tried a similar technique. As a result I followed the rest of the throng up Boylston and the “official exit point”. Those extra minutes proved to be quite valuable for both of us.

As I’m making my way toward the Starbucks, I meet a couple who tell me that they are headed to Starbucks as well; almost immediately we hear the first explosion and see a plume of smoke followed by the second explosion (more distant). The woman cries out that it is an explosion at Starbucks and that their kids are there. At this point pandemonium breaks out (sort of lost track of a concept of time at this point) and I have a few distinct thoughts that I recall. My initial reaction was surprise at the relative quietness of the explosions; then I was struck by the strange mix of screaming, crying, and frantic people intermixed with others who seemed completely unconcerned. At this point, I saw no one who was actually injured so I really had no idea what was actually happening. As mentioned, I’m not really sure how long I stood there trying to wrap my brain around the surrealistic scene. I remember that I needed to get to Jen and Jason and I had no idea if the others had managed to make it to meet them. I knew Jen was fairly close and I truly sensed that she was fine; I also knew that Jason would be with her. Finally, I call Jen to mention that I am heading her way and I remember going numb when she mentioned there had been fatalities and that Jason had witnessed some severed body parts. I vaguely remember hearing that everyone was fine and that she was coming to find me on a street off of Boylston. The call was lost as we later learned that cell service had been restricted in the area as a precaution against any type of remote detonation. As I waited I met four female Harvard students who congratulated me on the run and it was obvious they had no idea what had happened; I told them all that I knew, took note of their shock, and then I spotted Jen.

In the aftermath, I learn that Jason and Jen had been extremely fortunate and had played a leading role in helping to get stunned people out of the Starbucks. Terry and Rochelle had taken Jen’s advice and walked down Newbury rather than Boylston in route to Starbucks— amazingly lucky. And, that Jamie and Brittani were with Jason and Jen and were both close enough to the Finish Line blast to see blood on the sidewalk.

All and all we were extremely fortunate and nevertheless quite shaken, none more so than Jason who not only helped customers exit the Starbucks, he also came to the aid of a visibly bewildered father and his young children just outside the Starbucks entrance.

My heartfelt emotions go out to the deceased as well as the many injured. We were afforded the opportunity to see mankind at its best and at its very worst. The race volunteers, policemen, and average citizens are by far the biggest story of April 15 2013; all that I saw reacted to a horrific act in an extraordinary fashion.

My final memory of Boston 2013… Witnessing Rochelle fight back tears as we parted company on the shuttle bus heading home to Portland and Phoenix respectively…  We had managed to have a great time despite the trauma we had all experienced. Our short time in Boston together provided a memory that will last a lifetime. Like all epic journeys, they usually include moments of hardship and moments of joy; this was certainly true for us, and I believe it all came to a head as our journey ended and the realization of all that had happened resonated with each of us.

TMC

4/17/13