Example. The 1985 Boston Marathon fell exactly on April 18th, my fortieth birthday. All along the course, because of my tee shirt, I was getting high fives . . . until I realized it was wearing me down, so I moved into the center of the pack after Wellesley. I will never forget the roar of the crowd at Wellesley. People were hollering,
"You look great!"
"You look awful!"
"It's my Dad's birthday!"
"It's my sister's birthday!"
"Looking good."
" Keep it up."
Sandy caught me in this photo on mile 21 at Cleveland Circle.
I know, I know, . . . I still look exactly the same, and thanks. ycmtsu
The next to the last straight stretch down Commonwealth Avenue right before the sharp right on to Hereford and the finish line on Boylston. (That's me in the middle of the frame -- white shirt, dark shorts.) I was hot. I grabbed a drink out of some guy's hand and threw it in my face. It was a clear mixed drink, not water. I laughed.
You feel like a superstar running the crowded gauntlet down Boylston.
You did it. You finished the Boston Marathon!
Nothing you can do will EVER change my sweet memories of running Boston. Nothing.
