Third Time's a Charm: Boston or Bust

So, at first I thought saying "Yes" to running the Boston Marathon next year was going to be easy.  I received the invitation from the B.A.A., parted with yet another $325, and received my confirmation.  Post to Facebook because I thought I was excited about it.

Easy, right?

No.

It's weird what causes emotional "triggers" when it comes to traumatic events like the Boston Marathon Bombings.  I think what's hard is that I've technically "run" Boston two times, but have yet to cross the finish line.

Last year (2012) was one of those "freak weather" years.  It was over 80 degrees at the start and well over 90 at the finish - oh, complete with humidity.  The B.A.A. had offered deferrals for anyone wishing to play it safe, and not run in that heat.  After a VERY long plane ride and afternoon filled with thought and contemplation, I decided to bow out.  I had trained so hard that I didn't want to run THE Boston Marathon under not-so-Boston-Marathon conditions.  I wanted to run it knowing I was putting my best foot forward.  However, I still made the trip to Boston, might as well take part in the time honored unofficial tradition of bandit running part of the course.  I lasted less than 8 miles before I started overheating and "salting out" and by mile 15, I was more than ready to go back to the hotel.

Deferring was the best decision I could have made.

Then there was 2013.  I was excited, the weather was going to be perfect, everyone on Team Red Cross was excited on the bus ride over to the start line.  And you know what, it WAS a perfect day...

Around mile 18 to apply petroleum jelly...

accidentally in front of a co-worker

Yes, for all intents and purposes, there was no doubt I was going to cross the finish line on Boylston.  I was less than a quarter mile from the finish when we were all stopped.  However, there's nothing that will ever replace the feeling of looking up at the clock as you're crossing the finish line.  Nothing compares to the feeling you get as you realized what you just did, the butterflies you get when a volunteer places that medal around your neck, or the gravity of the situation simply for being in Boston.  It's BOSTON.  When I passed the iconic Citgo sign, I started getting teary eyed, I was going to experience all of those things...it was possibly going to be the most powerful moment of my running career.

And I was less than a quarter mile from experiencing that.

So when I registered for 2014, that's all I could think about.  And when I told the wide world of Facebook that it was going to happen in 2014, the positive/kind responses were just overwhelming.  I felt like I received 100 hugs from my tribe.

OK, stepping off the emotional wagon, and stepping into my running shoes....