I spent most of Sunday trying to figure out how to get to Boston on Monday. I looked up train schedules ($$$), renting a car ($$$ slash I don’t drive much and was working on Sunday = shouldn’t be driving that late), and thought about whether or not I would call out “sick” from work. I suppose I’m one of few people who don’t call out from work unless they’re actually sick, so my guilty conscience won out and I headed into work on Monday.
Luckily (I guess?), it was my third shift in a row, so I knew my patient well…an ICU patient which means he/she is sick and needs attention, but not so crazy sick that I spend the entire shift running around. This worked out well for me, seeing as it dawned on me that there was most likely a live feed of the race…and that I could watch it while making sure my patient didn’t fall out of bed. The ultimate win-win situation.
Luckily I was able to see the women go off, as well as the men, and I admittedly teared up a bit at the start. Sitting in my patient’s room. Luckily he/she had no idea. I watched as the masses went off, trying to spot some friends in those front corrals (so. many. fast. people.), darting off for patient care every now and then.
I watched as Shalene took it out fast. I wanted to believe that she could hold on, but I wasn’t sure she could. The men were running in a pack, and I had to tune out for about 45 minutes for patient care reasons (just in case anyone thinks I was actually ignoring my patient, I wasn’t). When I checked back in, Meb had pulled ahead. It was later in the race so I wasn’t nearly as nervous as Shalene going out early…but it’s a long race and you never know. Every time I checked back, he still had it. As I watched him near those final miles, I was on the edge of my seat – literally. Chebet wasn’t that far behind, something that is so hard to tell on TV. He took a right on Hereford and left on Boylston…Boylston is a long stretch of the race, and I almost starting yelling at the computer screen (with my patient next to me…good thing I didn’t!). Then I almost fell out of my chair when he crossed the line. I wanted to run outside and tell everyone, but I’m sure everyone would have thought I was crazy if I ran in the hallways yelling, “MEB WON! MEB WON!” Thankfully, there’s facebook for me to do that.
MEB WON! MEB WON!
I checked in with people the rest of afternoon, watching people’s splits fumble a bit as they entered the Newton Hills. People underestimate how much the downhill first half of the course trashes your legs, making those hills so much worse. I wished I was running, but watching those splits reminded me of hitting the wall really hard last year, right in that spot. If someone knows how to run strong on the Boston course (or any course, but I do think Boston is difficult!), please let me (and the world) know.
For the record, my patient must have been so excited for Meb’s win too…since he pooped himself from head to toe shortly thereafter. (Not a baby, mind you.)
Although I wished I was on the streets of Boston cheering everyone on, it was fun to be able to cheer from afar, wondering how people were doing and willing them to push on. I’m excited to read people’s race reports and she if their experiences correlated to the stories I made up for them in my head. (That’s totally normal, right?)
Mostly, I’m so excited that the marathon went so wonderfully and how people embraced the marathon whether they ran a PR or if they missed their goal by far…this marathon was about more than the running, more than the hard winter training, more than each individual person. It was a celebration of taking back the marathon, taking back the city, and remembering what happened last year. I never believed in living a life in fear, and Boston did an amazing job of letting the show go on.
And for the record, I hope to make it to Boston for the marathon (running or cheering) every year I can…missing it this year truly made me sad.
Did you run Boston? (Tell me all about it! Please!) Did you watch Boston? On the sidelines? On your couch? On the computer screen while keeping your patient in bed?