Cheering on the 2014Comeback
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Boston proved its resilience after the terrorist attacks of April 15, 2013. So, too, did the Marathon.
When I returned to Hopkinton to race a year later, I couldn’t help but wonder whether everything that made the Boston Marathon special would survive. I had no business putting on my Brooks T5s that day, after being sidelined with plantar fasciitis all winter. But I wanted to show support — for the victims of the bombing, for the city, for the race.
Yes, security around the startline corrals was tighter. But the familiar sights, sounds, and smells all returned once the gun went off, and the roller-coaster ride plunged down Route 135 toward Ashland.
The pee breaks in the trees on Hopkinton’s outskirts. The crowds shouting “USA! USA!” in Ashland. The barbecue scents wafting across downtown Framingham. Grumpy Santa taunting the runners on the way into Natick, kids bouncing on trampolines on the way out. The scream tunnel in Wellesley, loud enough to be heard a half-mile away. The crowds up and down Comm. Ave. through the Newton hills, one long party of pain to the Boston city line. The sea of humanity with a mile to go in Kenmore Square, under the Citgo sign’s glow. The right on Hereford, the left to the glory of Boylston. The BAA’s blue and gold across the finish-line arch, and the pell-mell beneath it.
I won’t miss another Patriots Day in Hopkinton now, particularly after the pandemic canceled the race in 2020, for the first time in its long history. While we as a community are forever changed by the 2013 bombings, the Marathon endures. This Marathon Monday, kids will line the course again, hands outstretched. And I’ll give out my share of high-fives, regardless of how sore my legs feel.
Tragedies can bring people together. So can traditions, especially those that go the distance.