Boston Bound

The Boston Marathon, circa 1938.

When I began my running journey back in the fall of 1999 at the Tennessean 5k in Brentwood, Tennessee, I think it is safe to say that I really had no idea what I was doing. I had only recently started to run and train regularly, having been inspired by watching several episodes of the Eco-Challenge Adventure Races on television, and feeling certain that it was my calling in life to do something like that. I showed up at the race adorned with a multi-bottle hydration belt, plenty of extra food for my 3.1 mile journey around the block, and the hope that I might be tough enough to finish the event. 

25 minutes later I crossed the finish line feeling triumphant. As my thoughts typically do, they quickly turned to "what's next". After I wrapped my mind around the idea that people could and do actually run farther than 3.1 miles - a concept that until recently had completely escaped my notice or care - I began to consider the idea of running a marathon. 26.2 miles - that magical distance inspires such reverence from the running community. It is universally appreciated by the fastest runners, who crowd the front of a race trying to get everything they can from their bodies, to the "back-of-the-packers," who are trying to overcome whatever mental or physical obstacle that would deter them from their goal. They're all living a dream in one way or another. Few events can equal the history and pageantry of the marathon. Finishing that 5k was satisfying in and of itself but what it primarily accomplished was to whet my appetite for bigger and better things. The 5k's became 10k's, then half marathons, and finally my first marathon in 2001. And after that, it wasn't long before I fixed my gaze to the northeast, to a town called Hopkinton and the prestigious Boston Marathon.

Several months and years worth of work, coaching, planning, and preparation produced a qualifying race last year. And so, 15 years after running that first timed race back in Tennessee, I have finally received the letter that I have long hoped would be in my future. It's the prized notification from the Boston Athletic Association that my application to the famed Boston Marathon has been accepted.

Due to a large number of applications this year there was no guarantee that I would get in, even though I had eclipsed my qualifying standard by almost 5 minutes. I was preparing mentally to have to go through the process of requalifying again should I not make the cut, even asking myself whether or not I would try given that my attention has turned almost exclusively toward ultramarathons. Yet Boston holds a level of mystique that is unmatched in the running world. The ultrarunner may look unfavorably at such a race, with its large crowds and over-the-top spectacle, preferring instead the long solitude of the trails. The beginning runner may look at Boston as being an unattainable pipe dream, with its stringent time standards and daunting course profile. Yet every runner must appreciate the history that this race embodies. It is one of the few races that occupies such a large place the public consciousness even outside of the running community.

This is indeed exciting news. I had thought in some of my races earlier this year that running Boston at this point in my life, after having completed several marathons and ultras over the years, might feel anticlimactic. I am pleased to report that this is not the case. 157 days from today, if all goes according to plan, I'll have the chance to live this dream and experience all that Boston has to offer. If that doesn't excite you as a runner, I don't know what will.