I want my ‘normal’ back

I’ve always been amazed at how quickly the roads that make up the course for the Boston Marathon become, well, roads again once the race is over. The Tuesday after Patriots Day, you’ll not find a cup, a bottle, a table, a Mylar blanket anywhere.

It’s as if the race never happened.

Not this year.

Boston 118: Will I be there?

My wife always asks me at a low point. When I’m feeling lousy, nauseous, spent. When all the doubts creep back. When I’m thinking: I’ll never do that again.

It’s usually about the time we get back into the car, as I attempt to fold myself into the passenger seat.

“So, do you think you’ll do it again next year,” she’ll ask.

One day later: Still hard to believe

The ripple has turned into a wave. Who’d have expected the finish line of the Boston Marathon to end up as a crime scene?

When I heard the twin explosions from a couple of blocks away Monday afternoon, I knew something bad had happened. But I just went about my business.

At the time, I was feeling nauseous, having finished the race an hour earlier. I had spent about 30 minutes sitting along a curb feeling lousy, and when a runner behind me puked into a garbage can, I wondered if I would be next.

One day to go: feeling ready, grateful

Ahhhhh. One last item checked off the list: a good night’s sleep.

I told my daughter several times yesterday that she wasn’t allowed to come into our bedroom in the morning. She usually comes in to ask, “is it morning?” Then jumps all over the bed.

Three days to go: Running UP hallowed ground

I ran the hills of Newton today. Piece o’ cake. (They’re always easy when you don’t run 18 miles beforehand).

On my way to the Boston Marathon Expo, I stopped near the intersection of Rtes. 16 and 30, near the famous firehouse when the course takes a hard right turn. On Friday, they were just roads. Come Monday, they’ll be clogged with runners, spectators, thumpingly-loud music and empty cups and bottles.

Four days away: Monday, Monday

Marathon Day can’t come fast enough.

Everything seems to be point toward Monday. When I woke my daughter up for school this morning, one of the first things she said was, “You better start packing my clothes.”

For me, Monday is the Boston Marathon. For Nina, Monday is the day she gets to go back to Grandma and Grandpa’s house on the Cape for the school vacation week.

Five days to go: making strides

Five days to go: making strides

Yes, I’m in taper mode. But that doesn’t mean I have to completely shut things down.