Boston Marathon #12 - #104

12 Years Strong at Boston - This year marked my 12th consecutive Boston Marathon—and it was an emotional one. I knew going into the race that it wouldn’t be my strongest performance.

My training cycle had been tough. Connecticut’s brutal winter forced us to buy a treadmill, and Kim was still recovering from his back injury, so I ran many miles solo. Thank goodness for Matt Wilpers and his Peloton classes—they carried me through more runs than I can count.

We kicked off the weekend with a trip to see my daughter in Salem, MA, and met up with my son for dinner. He’s leaving soon for basic training, so this was the last time I’d be with both kids for a while. I knew the weekend would be emotional. We stayed at the same hotel as my son, and I left little notes for him—one under his door, another on his windshield. He called me after seeing the first, but didn’t notice the second until he was already on I-90. “What did it say?” he asked. Just “Drive safe.” (Hopefully that note didn’t fly off onto someone else’s windshield!)

On Saturday, Kim and I ran the B.A.A. 5K as our shakeout. I ran into Amanda, who I first met back in 2017 at the Boston Marathon hospitality room—we seem to bump into each other everywhere, including the Revel Marathon last year! We caught up before the race started. Kim ran strong, and I couldn’t keep up with him! The course ended at the same iconic finish line as the marathon, which was such a cool way to start the weekend.

After picking up my annual Spike the Unicorn at the expo and checking into the Marriott Copley, we headed to the Blessing of the Athletes at South Church on Sunday. The service was beautiful and ended with bagpipes—tears, of course. One moment especially stuck with me. The speaker said, “Mile 23 is where everything starts to hurt. Even the thread in your shirt can feel unbearable. But a glance from a stranger, eye contact at the right moment, can give you just what you need to keep going.” That message really stayed with me.

This year, I paid for the Unicorn Club experience, which included a coach bus to the start and post-race amenities. I was told I could buy a $100 guest pass for Kim, only to later find out he couldn’t join me on the bus and only had access to the food/drink area and grandstand seats. So, I ended up heading to Hopkinton solo.

We were dropped in front of CVS where the Unicorn Club had private tents and port-o-lets. I stayed warm inside the store and eventually met up with Kim in the sea of runners. He took off quickly, but we fell into stride together after a few miles. My heart rate felt high from the start, and it was hard to find a rhythm. I pulled back to regroup and hit the 10K still holding a decent pace.

That’s when I saw the Army tent. Cue the tears again. I high fived the soldiers and immediately thought of my son. I started my mental tricks—thinking of someone I love and listing 10 things I adore about them. Paul made me smile with all the funny memories.

As the sun came out in full force, I slowed down to avoid overheating. I started doing 30-second walks every mile. Around that time, I met two men who had each run over 25 consecutive Boston Marathons! We chatted and walk/run together until we hit Wellesley’s famous scream tunnel, which lifted my spirits and gave me the boost to run strong again.

Eventually, I caught up to Kim and we did some more walk/run intervals together. At one point he said, “Let’s run to the Newton Fire Station,” so we did. As we reached Heartbreak Hill, someone yelled, “Go Jeanne!” I turned and said, “Do I know you?”—and instantly realized it was my friend Michael! We both laughed. A little further on, I saw Reggie, Angie, Diane, and Molly. Cue another round of tears and hugs.

That emotional lift carried me up the hill.

Then at mile 23, the message from church hit me. I can’t tell you how many smiles and moments of eye contact I had from complete strangers—each one gave me just the push I needed to keep going. It was like the universe had placed them there, just for me, just when I needed it most.

My body was absolutely done, but my mental toughness kicked in. I went from chasing a sub-4 to just hoping to beat 4:20—my BQ time. When I finally turned onto Boylston, I saw Mary cheering me on, then David on the right. I threw my arms up and crossed the finish crying like a baby.

At the end, I bumped into Joyce Lee and Almi—my finish line friends from California who I somehow see at nearly every Boston. I completely missed the Unicorn Club tent (of course!) and had to battle Boston’s frigid winds to get to the VIP area at the Westin. But once I got there, I had a warm meal and an amazing massage.

It’s hard not to feel a little disappointed with my time, but it just goes to show—some races go your way, and others are a battle. I’m grateful to have finished and to have kept my 12-year Boston streak alive.

Now… onto Big Sur next weekend for marathon number 2 in 6 days. Let’s hope for a smoother ride.