I sat down to write my story and it was harder than I thought it would be. What came out is not a play-by-play of my day, but I think everyone knows the chronology by now. I also looked back at what I posted last year, which was mostly my photos because I didn’t have words at the time.
I ran the Boston Marathon in 2010. It was a perfect day and I had not planned to run it again. It had been crossed off the proverbial bucket list. I knew that I had another marathon in me, but I had my sights set on NYC or Chicago, and a not-so-secret goal of a sub-four hour finish. That all changed on April 15, 2013 and I knew that I would do whatever it took to run the Boston Marathon in 2014. For better or for worse, the Liver team were my people last year, and that is why I chose to run for the American Liver Foundation this year. I’m so glad they chose me too!
It’s hard to believe a whole year has passed. In some ways it still feels like yesterday, and at the same time it feels like even longer than one year. But I think that’s what happens in tragedy…you get stuck in the in between of wanting to go back in time and wanting to, having to move forward. You don’t want it to get easier because you don’t want to forget.
April 15, 2013. Tax day. Patriot’s day. Marathon Monday. It was a perfect morning for the marathon…it almost felt like my perfect day back in 2010. My biggest worry that morning was about getting Dave’s parents to the Liver team cheering station in front of Newton-Wellesley Hospital and then back to the Westin. I don’t know what compelled me to throw my phone charger in my bag at the last minute. Thank goodness for that phone charger.
We got to see the lead pack of men and women at mile 16. We high-fived and hugged Jerel and Dave. We got back in the car and headed toward the Westin. The timing was close and Kendrin and I had to run to the finish line from the Westin. We were at the finish line, on the grandstand side of Boylston Street, trying to push our way toward Hereford Street. We weren’t making much progress, so we decided it would be faster to run around, and it was. We made our way to the west side of Hereford Street, between Newbury and Boylston. 
We had gotten to Hereford Street just in time. Just in time, we thought, to see both Jerel and Dave. As it turns out, we were just in time for other reasons as well. We had probably been there for less than five minutes when we heard the noise. I can’t say that I knew in that moment that it was an explosion or a bomb, but I remember we looked at each other and said “that’s not normal”. We looked to the sky to see if there was some type of flyover, but we knew the Sox game was already over. Then we heard the second one. There were two things that made me realize that something was very very wrong – every cop had their head tilted to their shoulder, listening to their radios. And then we saw people starting to run.
We looked at each other again, and we knew we also needed to run. We didn’t know which direction to go, but we chose the right one – we wanted to find our runners. As we ran west on Newbury, we passed a Hubway station and decided in a split second that bikes would help us get away faster. We knew we both had Hubway keys. According to my Hubway account, I rented the bike at 2:52 PM that day. It is the only time I’ve been charged for having a bike out for more than 30 minutes.
We made our way to Comm Ave where they were stopping the runners from making that infamous right on Hereford, and almost immediately found both Jerel and Dave. We were the ones to break the news to many of the runners – about the explosions and that the race was over. I lent Dave my jacket, and wished I had more clothes that I could give to the cold, exhausted, and confused runners. I managed to get one phone call in, before phone calls stopped going through. It was a call to Claire, who I knew was at home that day, with a plea to turn on the news and please keep me updated via text. I was able to send and receive texts so I lent my phone to anyone who wanted to send a text, but many people did not know a cell phone number. I learned that day to always run with my phone and to memorize a couple of emergency cell phone numbers. I sent a message to someone on behalf of Diane from Texas. A few months later she texted me to say thank you and we still text back and forth occasionally. I hope she is returning this year. I remember talking to a woman, who I later found out would have been the first woman with dwarfism to complete the Boston Marathon. She will also be back this year.
I had the news on in the morning when I was getting ready, and I remember seeing an interview with a woman who was going to push her daughter in a wheelchair à la Team Hoyt. She became my “main extra” that day. I saw her at mile 16 and again on Hereford Street. And then she was on every news station across the country and the world that day and forever more – she was just crossing the finish line as the bombs went off.
I don’t remember what time I finally got home after being locked in the Westin, and the next few days are also a blur. I couldn’t stop watching the news, even though there was nothing “new”. Nothing, of course, until the events of Thursday night and Friday. And then it was over…or it was just beginning. I think both are true. In some ways my life has gone back to “normal” (and I am grateful to live in a place where these types of events are not the norm), but I and the Boston Marathon have been forever changed. And I can’t wait to take back the finish line on April 21.
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