Top Crying Moments from the 2014 Boston Marathon

 I’m an unapologetic crier.  I’ve said this before.  So, in heading back to Boston to get some closure after last year’s tragic events, I knew tears would be included; however, triggers from something traumatic are strange: You don’t know they are going to be triggers until you start crying, and I’m talking crying out of nowhere.

I cried when we ascended from the T subway and walked toward the finish line, literally moments after arriving in Boston on the Saturday before the race. Plus, my heart rate shot up which threw me for a loop.  PTSD is a real thing.  I can’t imagine what soldiers must go through on a daily basis.  The finish line area was packed with people taking photos the whole weekend which was nice to see.

I cried when Boston by Augustana came on my playlist. Also, It’s Time by Imagine Dragons and Homecoming King by Guster…these songs will always make me cry now, and that’s ok.

I cried during my shakeout run when passing the church which ended up being the makeshift meeting place for catching up with my wife after the bombings last year.

I cried at Easter mass then the priest (who was awesome) asked Boston Marathon runners to stand up. He said a prayer for the runners and the congregation gave all of us a long round of applause.  Tears.

I cried while in line for the Porto-John in the Athlete’s Village during the moment of silence for last year’s victims…thousands of people in Hopkinton, and you could hear a pin drop. This makes me cry as I type this (true).

I cried just before the Start during the National Anthem and Flyover.  National pride and remembrance were collectively swelling in Hopkinton, and throughout the race route.  The crowd support was indescribable. I will never forget the collective spirit of the day.

I cried during the race when I saw a sign that said: “Thank you for coming back!”  and, yes I laughed when I saw a sign that said “No Time for Walken” complete with a photo of the quirky actor.  I needed that laugh.

I cried when I saw my brother, who surprised me with his visit, near the Newton Fire Station (Mile 17ish).  I hugged him, and I warned him that my hamstring was shot and not to worry…I’d just be running the rest of the race slower.  I had one working hamstring, but I still had two legs.  I was reminded this as I passed a runner with a prosthetic leg.  I briefly wondered to myself if that was one of the bombing victims or perhaps a soldier.

And, yes, I cried the whole way down Boylston Street (I always do), and I mean a full on blubbering cry this time. Ahead of time, I planned to run straight down the middle of Boylston Street to take it all in (and I thought I’d feel safer in that space); however, I impulsively went all the way to the left side of the street (the side of the bombings).  I turned to the crowd, put my hand on my heart as I passed the two bombing sites, reflected and remembered. I thought of Martin Richard, who will never turn nine years old. Then, I headed to the finish line because that is always the goal: to finish

Yes, extra hydration was required Boston Marathon weekend.

 image

 Down one hamstring at Mile 17

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