Boston Marathon memories

Today is Patriot's Day and the running of the 111th Boston Marathon. The Marathon used to be one of my High Holydays, but no more. Today will be the third time I've missed it in the 27 years I've lived in the Boston area. Last year was the second time, when I didn't have anyone to go with and didn't feel like standing out there alone. Today is a work day.

But...there is a nor'easter blowing out there. Runners may get hit with 50mph head winds. The rain is pelting down, and the wind chill factor may dip into the 20s. Horrible weather.

I used to run like a demon. No more. The last time I ran hard was a few years ago when I vowed I'd run the Marathon before I turned fifty. I was clocking around 14 milers when my back blew out on me (really my hamstrings) and an October qualifying marathon came and went. Just life, I guess.

Now, I'm feeling fat and bloated. Sitting here in this cube, at this desk, eating and doing nothing active is killing me. It's killing all of us...not the life I ever wanted, but I have to dig myself out of a financial hole somehow...

Years ago, I think it was around 1984, my then wife and I hosted a bunch of runner from Ohio. Buddy John, his friends Bart and Ellie, and Ellie's sister from Oregon or Washington, I forget which. Bart had chance at qualifying for the Olympic trials; his number was something like 38. Johnny was already living in Boston, so on the appointed day, he and I headed to the airport to pick up the rest of the bunch. We got there, hugs and intros all around, and Ellie's sister noticed someone sitting on the floor of the airport who she knew from her health club.

Long story short, this woman and Ellie's sister had talked, sis had told the other woman, a single mom who's last name I remember was Proudfoot (what a name for a runner, huh?) who used her savings to buy a ticket and hope she could mooch a place to stay with the sis. Sis was furious; I can understand why, probably feeling used. I saw a tearful woman, and my heart went out to her. I was a runner, we were all runners, we all had our dreams. I told her she could come to my house. Proudfoot didn't want to come at first, feeling bad, but I told her she had a race to run and shouldn't have to worry about where she was going to sleep. Sis was still madder than a wet hen.

Interesting weekend with all of us crammed in one apartment. Runners sleeping on couches and the floor and spare beds. She brought her own food, nuts and granola and all foods with complex carbs, and she set up a picture of her kid on the floor next to her sleeping bag.

Bart blew his race and didn't qualify. Proudfoot didn't run well either. Johnny and Ellie's sis did fine.

I still think of Proudfoot every so often, particularly on Marathon Day. She chased her dream, and didn't get it that day, but I hope she found it, or maybe even something even better, later on.