2008 Boston Marathon from a runner's perspective
Tim Kowols
Issue date: 5/1/08 Section: Sports
It's a little overwhelming as you run through these towns. It's because you know you have thousands of people watching you accomplish something great and they are spending their day off cheering for you. I think they just crave fit men and women drooling, spilling, sneezing, coughing and puking on themselves.
Want proof that some runners are vain? Most of the marathoners look at the windows of Al's Shoe Shop in Framingham to check their form. I checked to see who the idiot was who tripped me back in Ashland at a water stop.
The Boston Marathon is a 26.2-mile tailgate party for many of the spectators on the course. There's nothing like seeing someone taking a bite out of a brat when you're sucking down an energy gel that tastes like strawberries and snot.
My favorite moment other than finishing was running by Wellesley College. This all-girls institution screams throughout the entire race, forming a screech tunnel. They all want to lose their voice, cheer on the runners and get kissed by sweaty marathoners. It's a win-win for all the guys running it. The single guys can get some action and the involved guys can say they turned down hundreds of women and then brag about how loyal they are.
The town of Newton is where a lot of runners hit the wall, the emotional point in the race where marathoners don't want to run anymore. Ironically, this is where all the tough hills are located. Let this commentary be an open statement to the town of Newton: I hate you and your damned hills. P.S. Your citizens serve up a mean orange slice.
In the end, I finished with a time of 3:04.33. A personal record even though more than 1,600 people kicked my butt. But who cares? The Boston Marathon is a runner's Super Bowl, World Series and National Championship all wrapped in one shiny space blanket with a Gatorade chaser. It's honor just to be in Boston, a proclaimed Mecca of running in the United States.
The final 600 yards on Boylston is the greatest feeling most runners will ever feel in their lifetime if they choose never to run it in again. I, however, will look at my medal and wonder when I'll be back and what my time will be then.
Want proof that some runners are vain? Most of the marathoners look at the windows of Al's Shoe Shop in Framingham to check their form. I checked to see who the idiot was who tripped me back in Ashland at a water stop.
The Boston Marathon is a 26.2-mile tailgate party for many of the spectators on the course. There's nothing like seeing someone taking a bite out of a brat when you're sucking down an energy gel that tastes like strawberries and snot.
My favorite moment other than finishing was running by Wellesley College. This all-girls institution screams throughout the entire race, forming a screech tunnel. They all want to lose their voice, cheer on the runners and get kissed by sweaty marathoners. It's a win-win for all the guys running it. The single guys can get some action and the involved guys can say they turned down hundreds of women and then brag about how loyal they are.
The town of Newton is where a lot of runners hit the wall, the emotional point in the race where marathoners don't want to run anymore. Ironically, this is where all the tough hills are located. Let this commentary be an open statement to the town of Newton: I hate you and your damned hills. P.S. Your citizens serve up a mean orange slice.
In the end, I finished with a time of 3:04.33. A personal record even though more than 1,600 people kicked my butt. But who cares? The Boston Marathon is a runner's Super Bowl, World Series and National Championship all wrapped in one shiny space blanket with a Gatorade chaser. It's honor just to be in Boston, a proclaimed Mecca of running in the United States.
The final 600 yards on Boylston is the greatest feeling most runners will ever feel in their lifetime if they choose never to run it in again. I, however, will look at my medal and wonder when I'll be back and what my time will be then.
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