sad news from boston

I moved to Boston after college-  couldn't wait to get there and meet up with old friends (if you can have 'old' friends at 21!) and start my life.  Every year on Patriots Day, Boston's sacrosanct holiday commemorating the Revolution, they had a cool race of 26 miles that ended at the Prudential Center in the heart of the city.  I walked over from my apartment and joined a little knot of people cheering on the runners.  There were no grandstands, no police barriers, just a line drawn across the street and a guy with a timer.  Only a few hundred runners took part-  running wasn't such a big deal back then-  and we all knew that it wasn't worth a pot of beans at the end-  the Big Prize.  

The runners would all congregate the night before for spaghetti dinners at local restaurants, then get home to bed for the early morning ride out to Hopkinton.  No chartered busses.  Maybe some entrepreneur would set up a table and sell some doughnuts, but that was it.  

1966- it was sort of a 'happening', and I live the furthest away from the race that I would in the next 35 years-  two blocks.

By the mid 70's I had moved about once a year, always within that two block distance but in several different towns until we bought our first house right on the route at the halfway point.  By then there were big changes-  finally women were admitted to the race, though I would see a few of them running unofficially every year.  The stakes grew to real prizes and they lost a lot of their audience.  They started wearing real running clothes and the 'interesting' costumes disappeared.  There was one guy I heartily cheered for who wore a full Buffalo head for the whole race.  Others wore distinctive headgear or big signs to make their presence known to their families cheering on the sides.  

Inside I would make huge pots of soup and loaves and loaves of bread and invite everybody I knew for the party.  We had upwards of 60 people some years in spite of the weather being unpredictable-  some years in the 80's, others in the 40's.  The kids would all hand out oranges or fill cups of water, if it was hot we would get the hose out and spray the street for them to run through if they wanted.  Even after we stopped having such big bashes, we would get calls from people to see if they could come watch from our little stone wall in front of the house.  

And use out bathroom.

We moved off the race route in 2000, now live a mile away so we don't get there every year anymore.  I miss the excitement of the huge numbers running by.

Now, there is a midnight bike ride the night before where they start at the beginning of the route and end up back in Boston in a few hours. They scheduled a train to take them out of the city but had to cap the participants at 700 for lack of room!  Obviously a big hit.  

It starts with an early start for the wheelchair participants.  When I would watch they were regular wheelchairs with big wheels, now they are pretty souped up with amazing athletes in the race.  There were only a few guys racing but it would bring tears to my eyes every time.

And now the women- of course the reason I'm not running is that they don't make the little pants in my size.

Back when Kathryn Switzer tried to run in the late 60's she was pushed off the course by the officials.  There was major controversy over whether a woman was capable of running 26 miles.

Up to 35,000 runners and over 500,000 observers and cheerers!

As usual for the last decade, we have our African winners.  Note that they aren't eating bean soup any more.  That all went out the window when the BAA took over and made it a BFD.

The first blast, before the runners even noticed what was going on.  The flags are for each country with a runner participating, a world event of tradition.

I am so distressed that somebody could do this at such an event.  Things are going to change forever for anyone who was there, and ripple out to those of us who are only cheering from the sidelines.