Boston Marathon 2013

Friends,

Wanted to share some thoughts I shared with colleagues and fellow runners in the wake of the Boston Marathon bombings. Writing about this has helped our family process the event. Thank you for your continued prayers for the victims, their families and for the investigating authorities.

-james

Report from Boston Marathon 2013:

I want to thank all of my colleagues, friends, and fellow runners for your prayers and concern in the aftermath of the Boston Marathon bombings.

Fortunately my family and I are safe in our hotel just outside Boston City limits.  We left the finish area about 30 mins before the explosion. Our thoughts and prayers are with the victims and their families during this challenging and confusing time.

I spent a good portion of Monday afternoon responding to concerned texts, emails and social media messages - and for that I am thankful because it means I have friends who care enough to be concerned! I also spent some time talking to a close friend who is a newspaper reporter, who happened to be following my race results online. He asked about my reactions to the events, which prompted me to further process the events and my reaction as a runner, maybe more so than I would have otherwise. I shared this with some of my colleagues already today and thought I would post these thoughts and reflections here also, feeling that other runners might have some of the same feelings, or might be unsure how to feel. 

The Kanary family experience at the Boston Marathon was too close for comfort. Just a day before these tragic events my wife, 3 children and mother in law and a close friend and his son were all standing in the very spot where one explosive device went off- just outside the Marathon Sports shoppe where we visited to buy more souvenirs after the race expo. During the Marathon my family was on Boylston Street - close to where another device went off - after catching me around mile 25.5, as they walked to the family meeting area. As luck would have it I finished well before the explosion and we were all in the family meeting area a block or so away before deciding to head back to the hotel, rather than experience more of the race ambiance, free massages, and celebration. 

We were already driving toward our hotel when we heard the news- or rather when the text messages changed from "congrats" and "kudos"  to "are you ok?" and "just heard the news.."

The entire day and my perspective on the race changed in that moment.

As many of you know, after you run 26.2 miles your body and brain are completely spent. This marathon is no different. Medical personnel in white Boston Athletic Association running jackets stand and watch as you finish, wheelchairs in hand, ready to catch you and whisk you to the medical tent should your legs not know how to function after you stop running. [Sidenote: I was the recipient of such rapid response after finishing my first marathon -the Flying Pig in 2011- where I received a bonus prize of 2 bags of IV fluid and an extra T-shirt.]  The medical personnel at races  like Boston, Cincinnati and Hospital Hill are super-human nurses, physicians and other healthcare professionals- not getting paid a dime for their service. They are volunteers there to serve and use their skills to help others. More on this in a moment.

If you pass on that free ride in a wheelchair you probably have just enough left in your tank to walk to the family meeting area, look for the section with the first letter of your last name, then hug your wife, kids and mother in law (in that order [just kidding, Mom.]) You hang out still somewhat in a daze, taking pictures and joyously celebrating together. You just finished what many consider the Super Bowl of the running world. Pure elation. Then because you're famished you steal some food from your 2 year old when she's not looking. If you can speak in complete sentences, you thank your training team that put up with the brutal training schedule - including your mother in law. 

In just a few minutes all of that joy and celebration would change to shock and confusion.

The Boston Marathon is an international, world class celebration of endurance for many ages, backgrounds and nationalities- this year 27,000 or more ran in the race with thousands more in attendance. Everyone here has a story, having to qualify with a competitive running time just to have a chance to register, which is harder than getting U2 tickets in Dublin.  I have shared my story of transformation with many people and what got me to this stage and milestone of celebration. At Boston there are thousands of stories just like mine, or likely better.

All that changed and became meaningless not long after the finishers medal was hung around my neck. What happened Monday was clearly an act of terror orchestrated to stab at the heart of a joyous time for the city of Boston, the running community, and the world.  From joy to shock and confusion, then to anger. Anger when hearing about innocent victims who were senselessly killed or harmed. Anger because the joy of the event was taken from so many athletes, volunteers, families.  All from these acts of cowardice.

There's another way one can get into Boston Marathon. Several thousand runners secure a racing bib through fundraising of, what I believe to be, $5000 or more- which takes some serious phone calling, facebooking and emailing. Monday morning I met a young woman in the Athlete Village who had raised $6000 for Dana Farber Cancer Research to secure her race bib. On top of that she trained hard for what was to be her first marathon.

After my initial shock turned to anger, I felt a new reaction brewing. It dawned on me that the start time for charity runners was later in the day, so it is likely that that young woman I met earlier and thousands of other charity runners were never able to finish this prestigious race. Frustration.

I also know of a colleague who was in the midst of running the race with his fiancee and they weren't able to finish. Escorted off the course at Mile 18. More frustration.

As my family and I continued to process the day, not only were we thankful for our own safety but even more thankful when we realized that there could have been more victims. Other devices may have been found and further destruction and bloodshed was prevented. The barriers meant to keep runners in and crowds out near the finish may have saved lives. And remember those super-human medical professionals I mentioned earlier?  They were already positioned nearby (watching for wobbly runners like me) when the incidents occurred. Essentially there was a pre-arranged grid full of first-responders on standby, and for that I am thankful, as I am sure the victims who are being treated are also. I should also mention there were a lot of police and other personnel onsite for the regular safety of the crowd and runners. I am so thankful they were close by as well!

Yesterday was Monday. Patriot's Day. The 117th running of the Boston Marathon.  And a very long and emotional day for so many.  As a runner my emotions ran the spectrum from joy to shock to anger to frustration and now to reflection and thankfulness. The victims and all those impacted consume my thoughts.

Finally, I am thankful for many things including the concern and prayers offered by all of my friends, family, colleagues and fellow runners.

Late Monday night I was finally able to come down from the highs and lows of the day and get some rest.  Today brings a new dawn. And we will race on together.

Celebrating

One of the beautiful things about getting older while keeping in touch with friends from high school is seeing those friends build families of their own.  It began with a marriage, then a few more, and another.  Some close to home, others in new and exotic places.  Pretty soon baby showers began and the young limbs growing on the family trees began budding. 

The main reason we journeyed to Atlanta in January was so I could help host a baby shower celebrating the much anticipated addition to the Conley clan.  Five of who we lovingly refer to as the "Tifton Girls" met in Atlanta to co-host the shower for Carrie (and Rod).  The theme was adorable - Little Man - with mustaches adorning everything from the invitations to the hostess gifts.  

Brandy, Danielle, Carrie, Me, and Alexis

Carrie's sister Shannon and long-time friend Runi rounded out the hostess crew with long-distance support from the sixth "Tifton Girl," Tamara.  Shannon and Danielle did a ton of prep work and we all gathered several hours before the shower to transform Carrie's mom Yvonne's beautiful home into a teal and orange celebration for the little man to come.

Danielle, Shannon, Carrie, Me, Brandy, Runi, Alexis

A celebration like that wouldn't be complete without beginning the day with breakfast followed by pedicures.  We had a great time catching up, talking babies, and just hanging out.  The guys joined us as we welcomed a nice group of Carrie and Rod's friends to get them ready for the baby's arrival.  We ate great food, met fun people, and watched the presents pile up.

A month later, on our way back from a trip to Florida, we stopped back in Atlanta and were able to visit Carrie and Rod on what turned out to be the day before baby Crosby was born!  Crosby came into the world hours after we left Atlanta, heading for home.

On The Road...to Atlanta

In January we piled everyone into the minivan and headed to Atlanta to celebrate with my good friend Carrie and her husband Rod as they prepared to welcome their first child.  The baby shower was awesome, time spent with old friends was special, and the hiking side trip on the way home was truly a blessing.

As we drove through Chattanooga, Tennessee I was on a mission.  I was driving, had my eye on the prize - being home at a decent hour (i.e. before midnight), I was not interested in a roadside diversion.  Fortunately for all of us, James had an itch to explore and convinced me to find a park he saw on the map.  I pulled off, with no small amount of grumbling, intent on quickly finding this park, stretching our legs for a few minutes, and getting back on the road.  Fifteen minutes and several wrong turns later we found the nearly unmarked road leading to the park.  We parked and loaded a backpack with some snacks, put Ella into a backpack carrier, and started down a trail. 

The sound of rushing water soon swelled from around a bend.  We came around a group of rocks to find and awesome river.

We hiked for a couple of miles, crossing bridges, climbing over rocks, stepping around tree roots, and sometimes pulling ourselves up embankments.  We found walking sticks to do the trail Gandalf-style.  The kids made a game of finding the trail markers and being the leader of our crew.

The trail came to a beautiful waterfall where we sat down and had lunch.  The hike back to the car was a little faster, but just as beautiful.  We met nice people along the way, chatting for a moment or just waving hello.  We got back on the road, tired but exhilarated.  Our jaunt into the woods meant a post-midnight arrival back in Kansas City, but the memories we made were well worth the road weariness and exhaustion.