Boston

The Boston Marathon is next week and I will mournfully watch it on television this year. In my efforts to complete an Ironman, I didn't run a marathon last year – so there was no way I could qualify to run the Boston. Otherwise, I'd be there.

Boston, for me, was the rare instance in which the hype matched the experience. I spent nearly a couple decades hoping to run fast enough to qualify for it. It was a goal I used to motivate me to run many many miles. When I did finally qualify for it, I kinda figured the race itself would be anti-climatic. After all, I'd run plenty of road races and marathons – how different could Boston be? I thought running Boston was more about status, being able to wear the jacket around and announce to other runners that, "yeah, I ran Boston."

Certainly it is a little fun to brag about running Boston, but the event itself is so much better.

To begin with, you're treated as a rock star the whole weekend you're there. Bostonians constantly approach you and wish you luck or congratulate you or thank you for participating in the marathon. You never get the "you're crazy for running that long" comments in Boston. You really are welcomed by the city.

The atmosphere and buzz amongst the runners before, during and after the race is fantastic. Everyone is proud of being there, of being able to run a marathon. I suppose all marathons are like this – the participants celebrating life by trying to accomplish something most dream about – but, again for me, Boston was just better.

The crowd during the race is overwhelming. Because Patriot's Day, most of the town is off work. Tons of spectators line the course. It's kind of like a very long tailgate party. There are very few (if any) parts along the course that you aren't being cheered. You can hardly hear your own footsteps. Wellesley College, with the coeds screaming for the runners at the top of their lungs, can be heard about a half mile away.

Finishing the race is the best in the sport of the marathon – thousands upon thousands of people cheering from the streets and buildings as you run down the last couple hundred yards. The noise from the crowd almost hurts.

I thought after I'd completed Boston once, I'd be done. But I've done it three times now and I want to get back as much as ever I have. Hopefully, I wont be watching it next year.