O.K., I’ll admit it. Since arriving in Boston I have been a little down.
I like many runners from all over the world descended on the most storied Marathon in the free world with great expectations. I had trained better and harder than I had for any race of any distance at any time in my life.
I came here with one goal – and that was to be able to stare at myself in the mirror after my post-race shower and know that I was the best I have ever been. That I had slayed the dragon at Boston. A claim very few can make.
Well I found out that Mother Nature does indeed have a sense of humor and instead of a neutral day, we will be running in what looks like the second hottest Boston marathon in the 116 years the race has been held.
To make matters worse, temperatures will be rising throughout the race, even as we approach Boston and the sometimes cooling effect the harbor can have on the city.
Not on Monday.
Yesterday I went to the expo and I got my bib for the race. Did some shopping and bought Landry a stuffed Unicorn in a Boston Marathon T-shirt named Spike. On the cab ride back to the hotel it happened.
The cab driver asked me about what it’s like to run Boston. I could see in his eyes that he thought I was someone special.
Not in the way that our Mother’s make us feel that way, as that is pretty much part of the job description. But only the way a complete stranger can. He looked and spoke to me, this “Everyman” from Austin, TX with great reverence.
I felt “honored”.
As I laced up my race shoes for a quick 2-mile shakeout to get the blood flowing back into my legs on Sunday morning I saw the names on my shoes. The people in my life I am dedicating this race to.
Scott Birk, David Roitman, my Mom and of course Dom.
I don’t think Dom would be the type to lay down tomorrow just because of a bad weather forecast. In fact, I know he wouldn’t. He would run the race tomorrow to the best of his abilities and would not let some clock on a street tell him the worth of his effort.
I ran out from the finish line on Sunday, turned around in the street and then ran back over the final mile of the course. Mirroring the final 5,280 feet we will run tomorrow.
Our Bib number – 5280.
Commonwealth Ave., Hereford, Boylston.
Marathon’s royalty.
Tomorrow we are going to run the race with honor.
Try to do our best.
We can still do what we came here to do, and that is look ourselves in the mirror after the race and KNOW we are the best we have ever been.
I just had to change the way that is defined.
Sorry it took me a couple of days to come around Dom. As always, you have a way of teaching me things even now. For those of you following along tomorrow, tracking runner 5280 – don’t worry if we are running slower than we normally do or if my pace starts to falter late.
There is great honor in simply trying your best. That is what I would be telling my daughter under the same circumstances. And I would be right.
