My Boston Marathon experience...

So, here it is.  Several weeks ago before I got injured, I sort of looked forward to penning this particular blog.  I have been fairly obsessed with the Boston Marathon 2013 since qualifying 12/17/11 on my first attempt.  I've dreamt of it, studied it, what it may be like, am I running enough miles, am I running enough hills, joy of running alone in the dark and rain....  I could go on but we all know now that I didn't get a chance to toe the line on 4/15/13.  I shed many tears over my (now) pitiful misfortune and bad luck however I tried to keep positive with the belief that everything happens for a reason and just because we don't immediately (or ever, in some cases) know that reason, one likely still exists.
We were heading there with the hope that the Dane would be able to at least qualify for 2014 (which is now my main athletic goal for the year) and have a fun vacation.  Unfortunately (or fortunately, it may seem) he didn't have the race he'd hoped for and ended up walking with a couple other athletes after about mile 14.  Emma (Dane's niece from DK studying in Boston for the month) and I headed over to Boylston around 10:30 am after watching the start on tv at our rented brownstone apartment, home base for the week.  We were both stunned with the sheer masses!  Watched some of the wheelchair athletes finish to roars from the crowd then headed into Prudential Center to grab some lunch and continue watching on the tv in the bar, pretty neat actually!  Watched both men and women elites finish then headed down to the crowd to await our hero for the day.  It was fun, like a big block party - families, many languages spoken, a palpable energy.  My personal biggest such event until this was Kona I guess which, now, doesn't come close in comparison.  We finally managed to edge up to the barrier around the 26 mile marker and watched from there.  Amazing experience for sure!  I cannot describe the energy and the crowds!  I was tracking several athletes on the BAA app but didn't get updates on the Dane from beyond 30K so we were just trying to identify him knowing he should be coming given the time!  Let the race clock tick to the 3:55 mark and we decided we must have somehow missed him, we'd walk to the finish area to look around (then to the family meeting area after that).  Well, what occurred little less than 10 minutes later doesn't require explanation.  We got in a major crowd bottleneck in front of the Lennox Hotel and were bitching about why we couldn't move further, closer to the finish.  BOOM! WTF was that!  It shook the pavement underneath my feet.  First thought, fireworks accident.  Then, saw the plume of smoke and another BOOM, just to our left on the other side of the street from us.  That's when the pandemonium hit like a ton of bricks!  I looked into Emma's eyes and saw the fear and desperation, what do we do?  We got pushed backwards by the mosh pit of a crowd we were complaining about only seconds earlier and I grabbed her hand just before we got separated.  Into the Lord & Taylor we went, have to get off of this street, I thought.  The intense fear of the unknown was something I've never experienced in my life!  Where/when is the next one?  I freaked a bit in there and recall screaming out loud that I needed to know where my husband is.  I looked at Emma and knew I had to get her out of there very quickly so we, as did many others, quickly walked through Lord & Taylor where a very nice employee guided us up the escalator to exit us to the opposite exit on ?Huntington.  I cannot describe the sounds/smell/emotions/palpable fear all around us, just so intense.  Kids crying, adults crying, people screaming.  I just kept focussed on the moment, survival and don't let anything happen to Emma.  We got out the other side and sat down.  Emma was trying not to cry, we hugged, we bonded.  I will say, she is a young women of great strength!  We decided we needed to come up with a plan amongst all the sirens.  Oh my God, all the sirens and ambulances, never seen anything like this!  We planned to head to the previously arranged family meeting area, hoping to find Anders there waiting for us.  No such luck.  We decided we would make camp there and not leave until we saw him.  My iphone was getting no reception and the battery was running low now, shit.  At 3:03 pm, I received a text from a number and area code I didn't recognize and it said "Kathy I ok police stopped us u ok? Love anders".  You can imagine the relief I felt with that.  I tried and tried to respond but the damn network was clogged/not working but I kept replying and after it seems 10 tries I got one through saying "family area".  He had gotten stopped by the police roughly half a mile from the finish and some extremely nice fellow athlete leant him and others her phone; luckily I wrote my number on the back of his race bib because he doesn't have it memorized.  Relief and sadness.  It was crazy waiting there, so surreal.  People roaming around calling out names of loved ones hoping to get replies, very sad experience.  I worried about the other athletes that I know who were running and their wellbeing.  I will never forget this.  After about an hour, I heard whistling and saw Anders hobbling towards us.  Thank God was all I could think.  Indescribable.  Reunited, we headed out to walk the mile back to the home base.  We stopped at a bar on the way back and had a beer/cola (; > emma) and they had every tv blaring the local news showing our recent horror, trying to explain it.  You cannot explain it and I can still barely comprehend this craziness.
The next day we walked around, over to Back Bay to see the barriers on Boylston,  sombre to say the least.  The road was blocked off at least 100 meters beyond the finish line which stood like time had just simply stopped.  Hard to process.  We and many others walking the streets this day were in shock, roaming emotionless like zombies.
We made the best of this trip though and thoroughly enjoyed it.  I love the city of Boston and Bostonians and will certainly return, hopefully to run this race next year.  It's something I could see making an annual pilgrimage for.  We, of course, have to both find a qualifier before the end of September but we will plan this for sure.
On the flight home, I took some notes because I didn't want to forget/repress the emotions that I experienced and shared with Anders and Emma.  Leaving was a strange thing.  A big part of me didn't want to leave, I haven't felt that since leaving Hawaii.  I found myself, unexpectedly, very emotional.  Normal grieving I suppose.  We are all victims - the people who lost their lives, the people who have to face the rest of their lives with physical/psychological wounds.  Then, there are the rest of us.  The faceless, nameless spectators who didn't (thank God) witness the gore of terror up close but experienced enough of the craziness.  I have felt pretty numb about the whole thing since but am feeling better now that I have talked about it as much as possible.  In the end, I refuse to let those assholes make a victim of me for life.  What they have done is make me more motivated than ever to return to the great city of Boston and live my dream - run the race of my dreams with the man of my dreams.

Love this flower box!  Only in Boston!

   

The unused bib......

Scary proximity

'Survivor sisters'