My friends have all arrived in town now and we keep gathering, to visit the huge expo, to see the finish line being completed, to enjoy the historic city and to eat together. We laugh, we joke, we tease, we reminisce about previous Boston races and others. We are like Spartan warriors combing our long hair calmly in preparation for battle!
The 30 000 runners will have a variety of reasons for competing - some heroic, many just run of the mill. With its strict qualifying standards, one has to work hard to get here. I have come simply to celebrate being alive. There is nothing to achieve. It will be a long meditation on the joy of being sentient, continuing to be a part of this very beautiful world.
I am the luckiest of people. Not only am I able and well enough to run for four hours and love every minute of it, but I have several good friends who have gone well out of their way, made special effort and arrangements, to run alongside me. This will be an especially joyful day!
The city is ready now. For several days already all kinds of workers have been preparing the course and the elaborate start and finish lines. A million supporters will line the sides of the route and cheer for hours on end. Their shouts and cheers of encouragement are an extraordinary human effort to relate to others. Boston owns its marathon in a way that is entirely unique in the world. There is never a quiet moment along the road. One is never alone. It is a sight to behold for the runners as they get the odd glimpse of the snake of humanity behind or in front of them as they arrive at a point where it is possible to see the route ahead or behind. In addition to the clamour of encouragement from the sidelines, one can hear the steady patter of thousands of shoes hitting the road, in deep concentration, moving inexorably back towards the city centre.
This is my third visit to Boston. In 2004, I foolishly entered because I had qualified in my first marathon. I knew nothing and I made many mistakes! A highlight was hearing the legendary native Bostonian, Johnny Kelley, speak to us at the start line exhorting us to run our best race. He had run in 61 of them himself, even winning it when he was younger. He was 96 on that day. He died in October 2004 at the age of 97, a living legend who had seen the race evolve from an amateur's greatest challenge to the world's premier professional marathon - the end of an era. The picture above shows the famous statue of the Kelleys on Heartbreak Hill. I ran Boston again in 2006 and had an excellent run on a fine day. I had no idea what lay ahead for me on my life path.
In 2010, I was diagnosed with a tumour at the back of my right eye. It was successfully treated with radiation and I got on with my life and my running. I clearly remember doing a very fast run before the day of the surgery, and a day after I got home going out to walk, but with running shoes on, and gently easing into my first postoperative run. In March 2012, I learned that the cancer had metastasized deep into my body, and my future would be very brief. Typically, people in that situation live from 2 to 7 months. This was a very heavy burden to bear.
And here comes the best part. It is now more than 3 full years later, and I have gone from being a registered hospice patient to running in the Boston Marathon tomorrow. With the support of modern medicine, supportive and loving family and friends, I have survived. This will be a special race indeed! Hip hip hooray! Thank you for this perfect day! And tomorrow!
If you would like to track my progress on Monday, April 20, go to the website www.baa.org and enter this bib number - 24248.
Peace and love, Nigel
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