** Later addition:
To the people who were at the finish line at the end of the Boston Marathon today: you have my and the Wellesley community’s thoughts and best wishes. There were bombings, and though news is continuing to leak out, there were two people killed and thirty injured at the last post I saw. At this moment President Bottomly has not been notified of any one from Wellesley College being harmed. No Wellesley students will be leaving campus for the rest of today, and we send our hearts out to those in Boston.
**
This was the post as originally written, before news of the bombings. The explosions have thrown a tragic cast on today’s events, and I know I am not the only student who is shocked and saddened by the change in atmosphere.
…
Hello everyone!
I think that in general, we Americans have a dearth of holidays that occur on a Monday. In recognition of that fact, I extend my warmest appreciation to the state of Massachusetts, which has declared this sunny day in April as Patriot’s Day. Moreover, they have given us a giant 26-mile block party to celebrate, with roads closed, entire families out for hours, food, trampolines (I saw them!), and fun. What I’m talking about is the Boston Marathon, which just happens to run right past Wellesley College; the 12-mile mark swings proudly above the entrance to the Sports Center.
I and the rest of the college love Marathon Monday. We make shirts, make signs, scream for hours, and take a short break for the barbeque lunch in Munger Meadow before heading right back out to the road. We hold up signs saying “Kiss Me! [insert eloquent reason why]”, lean over the railings to get closer to the runners, and set up the Wellesley Scream Tunnel the school is so famous for. I heard an elementary school girl groan when she approached the school— “oh no, it’s the scream tunnel”—and it made me grin. It’s Wellesley tradition at its finest—we get plenty of kisses, and the runners start grinning from a half a mile away :).
This year, I was able to see just how much of an impact the Scream Tunnel makes. I discovered this, of course, by running right out of Wellesley. I woke up around 9:45am this morning, and figured that since I had done so much computer coding yesterday for various classes (all in Matlab, my preferred programming language by reason that it’s my only one), it was time for some exercise. Thus, I pulled on some shoes and a sweater, and set out towards Natick, which was my favorite loop over the summer.
It turns out, 10am on Patriot’s Day is a fabulous time to go running. It’s probably the best time of the year, in fact, because everyone’s out on their lawns, or sitting on their curbs, and kids are running around all over the place. No more cracked lonely sidewalks for me—once you hit the city main, the pavement is crammed with people, talking and relaxing and playing with their kids. They’re all waiting for the runners, since the wheelchair racers have gone by ages ago (you could see the outline of every streamlined muscle in their arms), and the women elite runners, and the men elite behind them, are still to come.
As I jogged along, heading away from Boston, I had several people call out to me that “you’re going on the wrong direction!” And so I was, but I yelled back over my shoulder that I would come back, no worries.
As I ran backwards to the mile 9 marker, I passed the elite women (uncountable indents in their abdomens) and the elite men (running at a 4-mile pace). I cheered with the people ringing bells on the sidewalk, and felt light when I finally turned around and ran in the athletes’ same direction. An observer’s “don’t feel pressured!” floated forward to me as I ran with these men and women; their chests emblazoned with a number, faces still with intensity; me on the sidewalk with a perpetual smile. I laughed—there was no pressure, just energy. Just the appreciation of thousands of families here to encourage the daily struggle of body and mind. Just the paying of homage to waking up in the morning, to pushing hard, to reaching farther, to trying harder, to believe. Just the celebration of movement and grace, of practice and effort and dedication. Just the love, from fellow members, the celebration, of what our species can achieve.
I kept running with them for quite some time—made it to Wellesley and didn’t want to stop. Saw Professor Higgins and her wife Liz—waved and ran right along. Passed the 13-mile marker, 14-mile marker, as the stream in the road swelled to a river. Cheering and airhorns and music and bubbling, laughter and excitement and joyous attention.
I got gouged by a flowerpot along the way, did some fancy hopping around crowds and actually ran into two people. Barely missed some toddlers—they don’t go where you might expect :). But through it all, just kept running, running along with the streams of athletes passing me by. I was told later I could have joined in with them, and I shall next year. This year though, I was happy on my crowded sidewalks, with the sun shining, people humming, thousands of feet pounding. Steps on pavement, calf muscles tensing, reverberations vibrating under our river to Boston.
I turned back at the 16-mile mark; I have responsibilities at Wellesley, to my friends and work and body. A part of me wishes I just kept running—ran all the way to Boston, screw the blisters and tiredness and hungriness. I ran into a swimming friend on the way back, and Emily told me she plans to run the Boston Marathon next year. I believe it; Ika and Annie are swimming the English Channel this August, and the members of our team are unbelievably strong, in mind and body. I told her I’d run a half-marathon with her, just like I had today.
I’m back at Wellesley now, as predicted paying for the blisters and lack of training beforehand :). My mother will doubtless scold me, but it was entirely worth the experience. Does it fill you with a sense of wonder, that an event like this can happen? That people, over the world, can train every day for this, can run on a beautiful day for this, that neighbors and friends can come outside for this, that students for a hundred years have cheered for this, that anyone can run for this, that anyone can be here, here, join in with this amalgamating flow of energy.
As I lay on my bed now, a cup of hot cocoa at my side, and a streak of light on my leg through the open window… yes. Yes it does.
I hope you all have a great Monday, whether work or play or both. Questions and comments are lovely as always.
Monica
Marathon Monday
