“Boston Strong” is a phrase that emerged in the days after the bombing at the 2013 marathon. In my mind it’s associated with the beautiful eulogy Barack Obama gave for the victims of the attack at an interfaith service a few days later. He began, “Scripture tells us, ‘Run with endurance, the race that is set before us.’” He went on to praise the Boston marathon as a race that draws the world together, a space of friendship and support. We can finish the race, he continued, because around each bend, “someone is there to boost our spirits.”
Lately, Boston has been under a different kind of attack and its mayor, Michelle Wu, the first woman and first person of colour to take on that job, has emerged as a fierce leader. In her State of City address on March 20th, this spring, she declared, “Boston is not a city that tolerates tyranny.” Like President Obama, she called on the city to stand tall in the face of adversity.
The months leading up to this year’s Boston marathon have been so much harder than my first time getting ready for the race, in 2020, when I was crushing hill repeats and long runs until Covid put an end to all our plans. Five years later, a pinched nerve made for stabbing pain in my left leg as I started my high-volume weeks. Hill training went out the window. My heart rate shot up in distress every time I started a run, until the leg warmed up and the nerve settled down. With the help of my physiotherapists (two!), I was able to keep running, but oh so slowly. I developed a pace I called the “dog trot.” I planned a race that would keep my leg from blowing up before the Newton hills. My only goal was to find my way to Boylston Street, one way or another.
I decided to run in a Canada singlet and hat for the first time, to show Americans that we are a tough bunch who will finish what we start, no matter what. What I could not have imagined was the outpouring of support from the spectators: “Go, Canada!” “Canada, True North Strong and Free!” “We love you, Canada!” “Ca-na-da!”; people apologizing for their president; a call for refuge: “CANADA! Take us with you!” I claimed the high fives offered by the crowd. I raised my arms for Canada when I heard the first line of the national anthem being sung. I smiled as I ran. I cried as I crossed the finish line.
“The sun will rise on Boston tomorrow,” Barack Obama promised in 2013. Dark clouds have gathered again, but we can work to dispel them by putting one foot in front of another. Together we must run with endurance, the race that is set before us.
Alison gets ready to high five an outstretched hand.
Beautiful post in every way — thank you for representing, and congrats on getting through all of the nerves and anxiety to stick to that training. I ran Boston once and it really was such a complex race because of its history, even 25 years ago.
Congratulations!