We made our way over to get our photo near the "Welcome to Hopkinton" sign as well. Still dressed in our awesome sweats.
This gives you an idea of how many people are packed into this tiny space. The weather was perfect - beautiful sunny day, blue skies. Always makes you a little nervous to start a marathon when you're not a little chilly.
Then we lined up in our corrals. We were in the 2nd wave and the first corral, which means we started at the very front of our wave. Before we crossed the start line, we passed these nice gentlemen passing out beer, donuts and cigarettes. :)
The city was full of signs like the ones on this house. So much love and encouragement everywhere we went. The city truly loves this marathon.
A few last shots before we started running.
I could write paragraphs about the actual experience of running the 2014 Boston Marathon. The energy was amazing. The hills were tough. The weather was a little warm. The volunteers and runners were awesome. And the spectators were absolutely incredible. Here's what I wrote for the MYNT blog:
Love wins. This was the reoccurring theme last Monday (Patriots’ Day) as I lined up at the start of the Boston Marathon. After a winter of training, I found myself back in Boston. Back after completing the race for the first time in 2012 in 90 degree heat. Back after a heinous act in 2013 left three people dead and over 260 wounded. Back this time to run side-by-side with my sister. To sum it up, I was back for redemption.
I had not planned on running Boston this year. Training for a marathon all winter definitely has its challenges. I traded some phenomenal Utah skiing for cold, icy long runs. All because I felt a magnetic pull to get back to Boston in 2014. The horrible acts last year were a direct attack on the sport and the people I love. Two years ago, my mom, husband and twin daughters had stood where the fatal bombs had exploded.
Running is more than just a hobby to me. It feeds my soul; it’s in my blood. I started running after watching my mom finish her first marathon when I was 12 years old. She can no longer run, so my sister Brynn and I run for her.
This year, we were two of the 36,000 privileged runners (second only to the 1996 race in number of entries) who set out to write a new story. Together we ran from Hopkinton to Boston as we soaked in the spirit of this incredible, historic event. When the running got tough (through the Newton Hills and finally up Heartbreak Hill), the crowds pulled me along. The final stretch down Boylston Street was so loud, I felt like I could have been winning the race.
From the hundreds of volunteers to the thousands of screaming spectators and other runners pouring their hearts onto the course, we were all in it together. We were determined to let love win, and we did.
Brynn and I separated sometime when we were running through the Newton Hills at around mile 16. You think you are going to stay together, but you can't predict how you're each going to react when things get tough, when you're hurting. Brynn told me to go on ahead, which I did, finally, and then finished a whole two minutes ahead of her. 3:29 and 3:27 to the finish. Definitely a bit slower than we wanted, but we really didn't care when all was said and done. The final turn onto Boylston was unbelievable...it's that moment alone that will bring you back to Boston again and again.
We got a picture together in the tent in Copley Square before we changed out of our clothes.
Changed into dry clothes and getting ready to head to our hotel. We took off our shoes and immediately examined the state of our toes - swollen toes and blisters all over. They were a hot mess.
We got dressed and headed out for an evening in Boston before flying out the next morning. We headed over to the Boston Marathon after party at Fenway Park. This is open only to runners and was pretty cool to see. You'll notice we are wearing our medals...any other marathon in the world and I would think it is highly dorky to wear your medal, but Boston is different. You walk the streets with that medal on and perfect strangers come up and congratulate you, give you high five, and thank you for running their marathon. It's one of the most incredible things about this experience.
The experience was capped off by the fact that, for the first time since 1983, an American won the Boston Marathon. 38-year-old Meb Keflezighi, in a stacked field, managed to pull off a victory that everyone wanted so badly after last year. Runner's World said it best:
"Meb Keflezighi gave Boston and America the victory the whole country longed for, but scarcely dared hope for, in the most emotional and significant of all 118Boston Marathons. He did it with a courage and determination that the whole nation can be proud of. If Boston and America were to find healing from last year's horrific finish-line attack, there could be no better resolution than by an American winning this Boston Marathon (in 2:08:37), and in such a way. Boston today was a field of dreams. "





















