Boston Marathon

When I was in 5th grade and 10 years old, we moved from little nobody knows where it is Cumberland, RI to Brookline, MA. I remember the first year we lived there my best friend from back home, Marie, came to visit and see the marathon. When we lived in Brookline we just walked straight up Washington St. to Beacon St. and watched the runners zip by. It was such a rush for this little Rhode Island girl to be a part of something with such history...even just a tiny little cheering part, but a part none the less. I mean...I watched Uta Pippig dash past me during her infamous 3rd win, covered in blood, among other bodily fluids. History. Flashing right past my damn face. Incredible. 

There were a handful of years from then on through high school that I would attend with friends. And then children, and marriage, and so on and we always said "we're going to take the kids to the marathon one of these years! really!" and with a best friend who lives in the south end, it seemed increasingly feasible. And then 2013 happened.

It's funny I think I've blocked a lot of that day out. I had a good friend or 2 out shooting the marathon and countless friends and family who attended yearly. I just remember the sick feeling. The racing heart. The sweaty palms. My mom had landed herself in the hospital on marathon Monday and the police presence and lock down was so heavy we couldn't get in to see her for hours. I remember the days that seemed to never end. Days of speculation and fear. They hadn't been caught yet. We, at the time, lived in Medford. Sandwiched by the MIT area and Watertown close by. I remember the stay in place order. I remember a cavalcade of troopers and BPD whizzing by our window in Medford, responding to the Watertown shooting. I remember texting with friends who had police scanners, waiting, hoping, praying...

(for anyone curious about facts or history, here's a timeline also i blogged about it at the time ) 

We happened to move, in 2014, to a house that sits right ON the marathon route. I shit you not...and the last two marathons have been SO healing. My children sit in their lawn chairs on the corner of our street and dash back and forth for snacks or biking. Our street is basically a one way dead end so lots of squads hang there (bomb and otherwise) and we get the low flying helicopters days before scanning for radiation. It's all totally trippy, but fascinating to watch such a well oiled machine run. So. On this Marathon Monday I'm posting just a few images I've taken these last two years. One while huge and pregnant, the next in the cold rain with a little 6 month old. I'm excited for this year because we're supposed to have sunshine and warm temps! 

So proud of all the runners. They fucking BLOW me away. I can't even wrap my brain around what an accomplishment it is. And so, so grateful that I've stumbled onto a new way to continue to be a part of this incredible history. 

Hey Boston're wicked fuckin cool.