Boston I'll Never Forget You

Thursday evening was my first run since the Boston Marathon tragedy. Running is my therapy. It’s where everyday worries become clear, but Monday my oasis was suddenly shattered. I took another step, broke down and cried at the lake.

The Boston Marathon is the crème de la crème of marathons - the best of the very best. It’s an honor to even qualify for the annual event, which makes the race a little more special. They do things differently – they give wreathes to winners, iconic jackets fill the streets, and unicorns become a fashion statement.

The weekend celebrates the history of the sport, the city, and the runner’s dedication. Boston does a fantastic job to not only welcome the runner, but also the family members and friends that were there along the way.

I think back on that Monday and honestly most everything was a blur. I was so lucky. Why was I spared? Did I see the bombers? What if the bomb went off later, would I be here to talk about it? Could I have done something?

To give a timeline of the events:  Adriane, my co-worker and I had wandered over to the finish line in the morning. She posted a picture of us on Facebook, which would later haunt my family and friends.

I left the finish line at 11:00 to meet with sponsors at mile 16 and 19. As I wondered that way, I stopped to cheer my friends Logan and Stacy on. Patrick another friend, sent me a text that he would be at Mile 19 at around 12:35, so I stuck around to cheer him on as well.

Around 1:30, I said my goodbyes and told the group that I was headed back to the finish line. I tried calling Adriane to meet me so that we could take a break from work and cheer from the stands. No answer. Then the annoying sound of my phone battery, 10 percent left.

Frustrated, I left to head back to the hospitality VIP area at the Westin Hotel in hopes to find Adriane and charge my phone. We reconnected, shared stories from the morning and waited for my phone to charge before heading back out. As we were walking down the block to the finish line, Adriane suddenly turned the other way. She was on the phone and couldn’t hear and wanted to wait before headed back over to excitement.

Isn’t it funny how a few what ifs can make such a difference?  If Adriane answered my phone call earlier, if my phone didn’t die, if Patrick ran slower, we may not be here.

Then within 5 minutes, everything changed. Sirens, ambulances and terrified people filled the streets. I grabbed Adriane to head to the hotel – for me this was the scariest part. Were there more bombs? Would they target hotels? Are we safer here or off the streets? The city was on lockdown.

My first instinct was to get somewhere safe and my second was to text my family. At 3:05, I sent my brother, Todd, Dad and Mom the following text. “An explosion went off at the finish line. I’m okay just shooked up…they think it was a bomb. The site is on lockdown near media. I’m trying to get to my hotel.” Only Todd received that text.

Back at our hotel, we were in utter disbelief as we turned on CNN to watch the horror unfold. A day for celebration turned into fear. Who was hurt? Is it anyone we know? Will there be more? Who did this? Luckily no one we knew personality was hurt in the blasts. Our friends from the LA, Chicago and Houston Marathons were all rattled but safe. Texts, calls and emails poured in over the next few hours. “Ash, are you okay?” “Please let me know you are fine.” “I’m praying that you are okay.”

An experience like this will teach you a lot. Tell your friends and family that you love them everyday. Don’t hold on to silly grudges. Life is too short. It’s cliché, but live every moment to the fullest. Kiss that guy if you want to. Take that trip you have been saving for. Do the things you love. Cherish every moment.

It will be difficult, but the running community will bounce back. These cowards messed with the wrong group. Running 26.2 miles takes dedication. It takes saying no to Friday happy hours, so you can make your 5 am run. It takes mental toughness to run with blisters and broken toenails. It takes incredible heart. We will be back. We will run again and we will do it for Boston.