By now you know that I ran Boston 2014 and that I was there in 2013 when the bombs went off.
And you know that I made up my mind to some way, somehow, run Boston because putting one foot in front of another for 26.2 miles seemed like the only way to make sense of everything.
And so I did (with a lot of help).
I ran proudly for Forsyth, with my marathon man, David, whom I had met just a few months before for a run up an ugly hill that ended in a lovely view.
Last year was about surviving and raising money for a fantastic cause. This year, though, is about thriving.
About finding my stride.
About finding my strong.
About slogging my feet over the course that has been trampled over so many times, with Boston and Marathon Day being a part of who I am. The path from Hopkinton to Boston is forever in my veins.
It’s about knowing where the best post-run coffee places are and how I count the coffee shops along the course during long training runs in the bitter winter wind.
It’s about knowing I can ALWAYS stop in to Heartbreak Hill Running to use the bathroom or pick up an on-the-go-and-I-forgot-to-grab-more-GU.
It’s about knowing that it’s exactly 9 miles from one Marathon Sports store to the next, so if I do an out-and-back, I’ll get 18 miles out of it and never ONCE be lonely.
It’s knowing that Heartbreak Hill isn’t actually the worst hill on the course. Instead it’s that little tiny one right AFTER Heartbreak that was soul-crushing.
And it’s knowing that I’ll have a friend waiting at the finish line to put my medal around my neck again.
And that for the second year in a row, I will strongly run over the spot I was knocked down.
And that the spot will be that much more worn down this year than it was last year.