One year ago I toed the line of the Boston Marathon for the first time.
The whole weekend leading up to the race was electric. I was riding a runner’s high despite having some serious taper crazies. The expo. The meeting of long time friends for the first time in person. The history. The symbolism.
I was running the Boston Marathon. Holy sh!t.
It was more than I could ever have imagined it would be like.
And then all the excitement and energy came crashing down a mere 8 miles into the race of a lifetime. Even though it’s been a year, I still remember every single event of that day. From trying to run off the pain. To painfully making the decision to walk off the course to a med tent. Riding the most somber ride of my life with all of the others who were getting a big fat DNF that day. To aimlessly searching for my family in a haze. And then hanging out with the transit police for what seemed like hours until we reconnected.
You would think after a year, the hurt, anger and frustration would fade. It has to some degree. I’m much better than I was 6 months ago. I’m so thankful to be up and running! I can’t even begin to imagine what I would be like if I was not. But I’m not going to lie. Seeing my Facebook or Instagram feed filled with Boston training posts for the past 4 months has been hard. Really hard. And then this weekend, it escalated. My social media feed was flooded with everything Boston. Of course, it would be because almost everyone I follow is a runner. I stayed off Insta for most of the day on Saturday. I didn’t want to see it.
While I am so extremely happy for those who are running, I’m flat out jealous. I want to be back to where I was a year ago before Marathon Monday. I want to feel that joy, the strength and the excitement.
Immediately after getting injured, I had a plan in my head. I wanted victory. I wanted another chance. I wanted redemption. I wanted to get a BQ so I’d be able to run again in 2016. Of course, when you are unable to run for 6+ months after April, that dream is not even an option. And now I’m at a point where I’m questioning if I have a marathon in me anymore. My body seems to be doing odd things lately. Can it handle another round of hard training? I’m not sure but I’m also sure that I still want redemption.
Sunday morning during savasana in yoga class, our teacher told us to lay our left hand over our heart and cover it with our right hand. In doing so, she told us to forgive ourselves. Forgive. A light bulb went off in my head. I need to forgive myself for what happened a year ago. I’ve been holding on anger towards my body. My body failed me when I needed it to be strong. Why me? Why during the race? Why???
That simple word – forgive – flipped the switch. I felt at ease. I don’t know why it took so long for it to register. Maybe because Boston was front and center on my mind yesterday. Maybe because I was finally ready to accept and forgive.
By Sunday evening, I could face social media. I wanted to see what was going on. I wanted to see the happiness in every single post. I wanted to see the celebration. Seeing all of it made me happy. Happy for all of the runners who worked their ass off to get there. Happy to be a part of such an amazing running community. And hopeful. Hopeful that I will be back to the greatest celebration of running again.
I can’t wait for my phone to be giving me updates all day as I track all of my friends running. Best of luck to – Sarah, Sandra, Mairead – Go TEAM STONYFIELD!, Kim, Becca, Heather, Chris, Michele, Nat, Laura, Sarah and Jess. I’ll be screaming for you louder than the girls at Wellesley!
To all the runners – This is your day. Run strong. Run proud. Enjoy every single step on Marvelous Marathon Monday.