When the Boston Marathon falls on the day after Easter, holiday celebrating feels a bit cramped. But the boys didn't mind a Saturday night Easter egg hunt.
We rounded up the boys and headed to the 8 a.m Easter service. It was amazing, and I hated to leave. But an Easter flight meant we had to skip out of church early.
As an answer to prayers, our flight arrived in Boston with enough time for us to make packet pick up and secure our bib numbers.
We had little time to get situated in Boston before race morning arrived.
Again, with the heat! Boston Marathon #3 continued the tradition of temperatures in the 70s!
Grateful we were able to train and enjoy the Boston Marathon experience together!
Moments before the start.
Post race relief. That was a brutal one! High temps and hills did a number on me. But, I earned a Boston Marathon PR. The experience was still amazing!
When in Boston on Patriot's Day, George Washington might appear.
The next day we were limping, but still getting around.
A definite highlight of the trip was watching Katherine Swizter (first female Boston finisher) retire her race number.
Another highlight was seeing the top finishers at the Nike Store.
Galen Rupp, 2nd place Boston finisher and US Olympic Marathoner, could not have been nicer.
The other top finishers.
We finished our Boston trip with a walk around the North End. Notice the jackets. Of course, the temperature dropped into the 40s the day after the race.
The Freedom Trail never gets old.
I made it back to Boston for a third round. This time I had hopes that the course would flatten and the temperatures would drop. Neither happened. The Boston hills still provided a challenge. The temperatures soared higher than expected.
The crowds remained. The Wellesley scream tunnel was just as loud. Boylston Street still bursted with life. The finish line was just as rewarding.
Around mile 15, I was done. DONE. Death seemed like a sweeter option at that moment. But a little voice in my head spurred me forward. Step by step I made it to mile 20. At that moment, I received a second wind and a fresh outlook on the race. I knew six miles could be accomplished.
A hair under mile 26, I made the left hand turn onto Boylston Street. The finish line was within (seemingly) spitting distance. I surged forward and earned a third Boston finish.
At that moment, I felt a mixture of emotions: pride, elation, gratitude, and exhaustion. And, I had absolutely no desire to do another marathon.
But then the next day, the pain didn't seem so bad.
The joy and pride remained.