Boston Marathon
April 15th, 2013
On Sunday April 14th, I headed down to Boston to pick up my bib for the big Monday, Patriots Day race. The city was filled with energy and plenty of runners awaiting the big day. I spent Sunday night in Milford, a town neighboring Hopkinton.
On Monday, I boarded a bus to Athlete's Village located at Hopkinton High School and there awaited for Wave 2 to be summoned to the start line. Since the start of the race is downhill, it is quite an amazing view to see 27,000+ people simultaneously running towards the same destination. On top of that, either side of the road is multiple people deep with fans cheering, screaming, playing music, holding signs, dancing etc. The vibe is unbeatable.
I kept a sub 8-minute mile pace until the half marathon when stomach cramping struck. Thankfully that has never happened before. However, it never left that day. I continued running nonetheless crossing the finish line at 3:48:20. Was happy to finish, but not thrilled with my time. Thought of checking in to the first med tent, but decided not to. Picked up my medal, food, water and headed to the bus to retrieve my pre-race clothing. It was there that the dry heaving began for which a medic decided to wheel me away to the med tent. My legs were okay with being wheeled around the city at that point.
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| Post-Race in the hotel parking lot |
It was warm in the med tent and there were plenty of people to help. I was fine; the dry heaving was just a passing phase, but they made me stay for some time to take my vitals. There was a loud bang. Everyone stopped, looked at each other and continued doing what they were doing. There was another loud bang. Everyone stopped, looked at each other and continued doing what they were doing. There were sirens. They didn't stop. The intercom in the med tent kept paging for various reasons that I was not really in tune with at the time. The woman tending to me asked if I'd heard the "explosions". Neither of us knew what they were. Fireworks? Couldn't be...there were too many sirens. The screen in the med tent suddenly had a heading on it "Explosions in Boston". Wait a second....that's where I am....Boston. Those noises were explosions? What exploded? It must be under control now.
As I was coming to, from the post marathon brain haze, I realized I should probably try to find Mom and Dad. I checked out of the med tent about 8 minutes after the explosions. Everyone kept saying, "Did you hear the explosions?" Of course, but what the heck is going on? The sirens continued. I texted Mom to find out where they were and to see if she had heard the explosions. Text didn't go through. I immediately thought of 9/11. Call after call didn't go through. This feels like 9/11. I wound my way through the streets trying to find the letter "S" in the family meeting area. Each passing minute, more brain cells returned from the post-race haze. Now there was rumor on the street that the explosions were bombs. Bombs? Where? Why? Who? The family meeting area wrapped around the corner of the block I was walking towards. Does that street with the letter "S" still exist or was it part of the explosion? That was my thought as I rushed toward the corner. At the corner, I could see the the letter "S". I hustled toward it as per the predetermined plan to meet Mom and Dad there. They weren't there. The phone still didn't work. The road across from "S" was barricaded and guarded. Bomb squads, police, ambulances, sirens....everywhere.
People were talking. Bomb at the finish line. They stopped the race. They stopped the race? This must be bad. This must not be part of the plan. Bomb at the finish line? That doesn't make any sense. It didn't register. Were Mom and Dad at the finish line? That's where I thought they were going to be and I never saw them along the race course.
I finally got through to Mom on the cell phone. They had been on the T when the bombs exploded. They had seen me running up Heartbreak Hill; they had not been at the finish line. They were evacuated on to the streets from the T in the vicinity of Copley Square and were trying to make their way to the letter "S". The roads were blocked and they were having a difficult time getting to me. The only thing I knew to do was wait at the letter "S". With the phones back in order, text messages piled up, phone calls came in even from friends in Switzerland, my facebook page was covered with concerned friends and family. What the heck is going on?
Runners in tears started to appear in the family meeting area. What the heck is going on? This is bad. I want to get out of here. I waited for Mom and Dad for what seemed like eternity, but what was, in reality, probably 45 minutes.
I let a woman borrow my cell phone to contact her family. I was looking around taking in the scene: the sirens, the officials, the sirens, the runners, the sirens, the chaos. Mom came up from behind me hugging me. They had finally made their way to the letter "S". Primal mode followed. I want to get out of here. How do we get out of here? I want to get out of here fast. Something is seriously wrong here. All three of our phones kept ringing and buzzing with people wanting to know we were okay. Yes, we are fine. We have no idea what's going on, but we're trying to find a way out right now.
Mom wanted to take a taxi. Dad was sure there would be no taxis around. We decided to head to the closest T station. What else could we do? Our truck was at Riverside off the Green Line D. Well, a chunk of the Green Line D was closed. Took the T one stop on the orange line. Got on a bus that bypassed the closed part of the Green Line thanks to the help from a local.
Still not really clear about the "bombs" that people were speaking of. Made it to the truck. Made it back to the hotel. Hotel staff welcomed us in saying they were so happy to see and know we were okay. Still not clear about the events of the day. Two bombs at the finish line?
Mom wanted to take some pictures, but I wouldn't allow a photo shoot at the letter "S" because all I wanted to do was get out of the city at that point. Here are some photos from the hotel parking lot after we made our way out of the city.
None of us knew the extent of the days events until we got home. I got
home at 23:00 that night and could not believe what I saw on the news. I
couldn't believe the pictures. I couldn't believe that the "explosions" I'd heard had caused this. I couldn't believe I had been there, two
blocks away when it all happened.
Initially, my internal competitiveness made me believe that it just hadn't been my day because my finishing time was not satisfying. I quickly realized that maybe it really had been my day for the mere fact that me, Mom and Dad made it out safe and sound.
