BOSTON STRONG !!!!!!!!

With the tragic events from the marathon, I, like so many others, have been trying to process, and make sense of the unimaginable. So many times I tried to gather my thoughts and share them with you, but each time I tried, I just couldn't seem to pull them together. Kerry, my training partner, also kept a blog this season. A few days ago I decided to read hers because I was curious as to how she was able to encapsulate all the events of April 15th.  Kerry and I have been side by side, long before April 15th arrived. It was only fitting that we laced up our running shoes and cover the 26.2 miles from Hopkinton to Boston. As some of you know by now, I probably shouldn't have run the marathon because, 5 days before it, I came down with acute bronchitis. However, sitting it out was not an option. I owe a debt of gratitude to Kerry for running by my side that day. What you are about to read is Kerry's account from that fateful day. She did such a excellent job sharing our experiences that I asked her permission to share it with you. I promise to do my own writing going forward.

Beginning with Hope and Promise

Monday, April 15, 2013 began filled with hope and promise. For anyone that has run with the Dana Farber Marathon Challenge Team knows that arriving in Hopkinton to meet up with your 550 teammates is a pretty amazing experience. I met up with my teammate Mike who lives in Tewksbury and whose wife would drive Steve, Andrew and I into Hopkinton. She would return to Tewksbury to get their kids and neighbor’s kids and would be waiting for Mike at the finish line. We were very grateful for Mike’s wife getting up early and driving us. It made for such an easy morning. (In retrospect, I am also pleased that while they were at the finish line, they were not physically harmed.)

Many of us arrive at the start feeling less prepared than we hoped because of the many challenges we faced during the season. However, we arrive anyway and are ready to go in spite of our doubts. We have the energy and inspiration of our 550 teammates and 26.2 miles of cheering fans who will carry us from Hopkinton to Boston. We wear the names of loved ones on our shirts which remind us that the 26.2 miles we have in front of us is not as challenging as what cancer patients and their families face each day. We tape up parts of our bodies that need the extra support. We take pictures as a team and then there is also the “living proof photo” which is a group of team members who are either cancer survivors or are currently being treated. Wow! We cheer for each other and get psyched. Together we are making great strides for a world without cancer. 

DFMC TEAM 2013 (9am 4/15/2013)

As Charity Runners we are in the third wave. This means we start about an hour after the first runners. Our start time was 10:40am. I will always remember the sounds of hovering helicopters and the energy that is felt when thousands of runners take to the street and are doing so in “honor of” or “support of” other people. It really renews my faith in humanity. In the midst of all the excitement and celebration, I had no idea just how much of our shared humanity I would experience in the hours ahead.

Slow and Steady

We started off with a group of Dana Farber Teammates. However, my running buddy Steve was not feeling well. In fact, he wrestled with whether or not he should even be running for the days that preceded the marathon. He had bronchitis bad and probably should not be running. I think if he were just running a marathon to run for himself, he would have opted for the sidelines. However, when you run for Dana Farber and in honor of someone like Matty Dubuc (the boy that Steve runs in honor of) it would take a lot more than bronchitis to keep Steve or any of my teammates from running. It was probably by mile 10 that Steve was really struggling. However, his commitment to keep at it was so admirable and inspiring. As a teammate and a friend, I told him we were in it together and it could take us as long as it needed. Later in the day, we would learn that Steve’s bronchitis and our slowed pace for the day was actually pretty lucky. 

Kerry and Steve somewhere in Wellseley, MA

We saw my mom and my dear friends Lauren, Jen, Barbie and Bill in Wellesley. My mom Lauren and Jenn would then make their way to greet us at the finish line. We said, “Take your time, we are going slowly” (not that we needed to tell anyone that). Next up was Linn and her family. We were truly experiencing the magical magnetic force of the crowds and support on the course that help pull you to Boston. We began to measure our steps not in miles but who we would see next. We saw Sheila and Johanna at Mile 17 and then Glen and Adam. Hugs would fuel us as we then made our way to see my brothers, Lisa, Moe, and my nieces and nephew. There were more hugs and we were on our way as we crested the final hill in Newton-Heart Break Hill. We met up with some other DFMC’ers and rather than feeling overwhelmed with the 5 miles or so we had left, we stopped for a picture and smiled and said “Go DFMC” or something like that then we were off again. 

One of our last smiles-Mile 21

Fear and Confusion

Everything changed at about mile 22. Police cars started to race by us on the course. At first we wondered if someone was hurt or maybe had a heart attack. Then the police cars kept coming. Some were marked cars and others were unmarked cars. The runners made their way to the right side of the road. It was then we met up with Shifter who has run with DFMC many years. In fact this year was his 20^th year. He told us that there had been an explosion at Marathon Sports. At this point it did not sink in. I quickly asked someone for a phone because I did not have one. I know my mom worries and I wanted her to know that I was fine. It went right to her voicemail but I said I was fine. 

It was a few minutes later that another runner told us that bombs had gone off at the finish line and there were bodies everywhere. It was at this point that it hit me. My mom, Lauren, Jen and Steve’s brother and friend Ken were at the finish line. That moment will forever be etched in my memory. In a split second I felt terror. “Oh my God,” I thought, “did I put them in harms way?” I wanted to scream but was stricken by the silent screaming in my head that repeated “no, please no.” With all of my might I was wishing that I could reverse time. I wanted to just get to them and know they were ok.  I was very aware that I could not reverse time. I could not undo whatever had been done.  I was not alone. Steve and I were with so many other runners and we were all experiencing the same fear. Many of us did not have cell phones. However, those that did were so very kind and shared with those of us who didn’t. I will always remember the moment that a group of us stopped still in the street. We did not know what horror awaited us. In that moment we all grabbed hands and began to walk together. I do not know if I will ever know the names of the people that we locked hands with, but I will forever be grateful for the camaraderie of strangers who were united by our fear and found strength by sharing the little comfort we could provide each other.

Not sure where we are headed

We all frantically tried to get in touch with loved ones. Most of the people I was with had family and friends waiting for them at the finish line. I could not get through to my mom and I did not know Lauren or Jen’s numbers. When I was young I knew all my friends numbers. However, with cell phones I no longer know anyone’s number. Fortunately, I was able to also remember my dad’s home number and called him. He was then able to call my brother who had seen a Facebook post from my mom “bombs went off, but we are safe.” My dad called me back with the good news and while I did not know how we would reconnect, I knew my mom, Lauren and Jen were safe. At this point, I felt great relief but was also very aware that I was with almost 200 runners, many of whom were still frantically trying to get in touch with loved ones. It was very soon that Steve learned his brother and friend were also safe. We could breathe a bit easier but were worried about so many teammates and their families.  

For a while we walked back and forth on Beacon Street. We were not really sure where to go. There was talk that a bus would come get us and bring us to a safe place, but the buses were being used to move the National Guard around so it was not clear when. Many runners were starting to get cold and after running 24 miles it is pretty tricky to just stop without warm clothes and water. It is here we experienced the unbelievable kindness of so many volunteers, police officers and many spectators. I just remember being asked so many times “what do you need? Can I get you a phone to use? Do you need some water?” At this point all I needed was to be with loved ones, but having the knowledge that they were ok was enough. I would wait as long as it takes and would not complain about anything. I could only imagine what people were dealing with down at the finish line and throughout Boston. I was so grateful to be with Steve and a few other teammates and knew we would be ok.

A Synagogue on Boylston Street opened it doors to runners to get warm and to have a place to sit. I do not know the name of this Synagogue but will forever be grateful for their hospitality. I was reminded that regardless of faith we all share our humanity and this Synagogue certainly exemplified human kindness and compassion at its best. I was so taken by absolute strangers who once again were so concerned with making sure we had what we needed and if they could help. There were phones for us to use and computers to get updates to our friends and families because cell phones were not working for anything but text messaging. I am not sure how long we were there. As someone who does not spend a lot of time in churches or synagogues, I will say that I have never felt so welcome, so safe or in a place of such refuge. I remember thinking that this is what God’s house or place of worship (whoever you believe God to be) should feel like and not only in times of crisis.

It was at the Synagogue that I was able to post on Facebook that the buses would be taking us to the Boston Common. We had been told the city was on lock down and in particular the Copley area and figured that our families were likely stuck in the city too. I was not sure that my mom, Lauren, Jen, or Steve’s brother would get the message. However, I knew that we could try. It was then we were told the bus was outside. It was all so surreal. We piled onto a bus and were escorted by police. I do not know how to explain it other than it felt like we were at war. I guess we sort of were.  I looked at the faces of the people around me on the bus. Although I did not know anyone other than Steve, we shared this bond. We were all trying to make our way to loved ones. When the bus arrived the park was filled with swat teams and National Guard Troops. As I looked out the window I could also see my mom who had climbed up on a iron fence. I then saw Jen and Lauren. My eyes welled with tears. It was just a few hours ago that I did not know if I would see them and if I did, that they would be unharmed or alive. I caught my breath and stepped off the bus and just waved to them with a huge smile on my face. My worst nightmare had been averted. It was nothing more than luck that kept us safe but in that moment I just made my way to them and hugged them tightly. Steve’s brother and friend Ken were on their way and would be meeting us shortly. 

Getting off the bus

Swat teams and police fill the Boston Common

When Steve’s brother and Ken arrived, we learned that they were on Boylston Street between the two blasts. It was so surreal. Here we were standing in Boston on the day of the marathon and just feeling so grateful to be alive yet we remained so worried for the many family and friends of teammates and other runners that we knew would also have been in harms way. I am going to stop here. The story does not end here and I probably could go on for a long time retelling all that I remember. However, I wanted to choose to end with what I am taking away from this horrific event.

I will start with a great lesson that running always reminds me and that is we are stronger than we think we are. However, I will add to this that we often discover our strength through our connections to others. I am forever grateful to the runners, spectators and so many volunteers, police and first responders with whom I shared Monday’s horror. While I may never forget the fear I experienced, I am choosing to focus on the hands that grabbed mine to remind me I was never alone. I am choosing to remember the strangers that offered me their phones. I am choosing to remember those that continuously asked us if we needed anything at a time when they were probably also in need of something.

I will always remember the images of those who were injured or lost their life and their families. My heart will forever ache for the ways this hateful act has forever changed their lives. It could have been any of our families and in many ways they are our families. As runners, as a community, as a city and as a country we must do all we can to honor those whose lives were taken and support those who will have a long road to recovery. “Boston Strong” does not end as the news cycle fades. We must make a commitment to see that all those who are wounded or lost loved ones and their families “have what they need” not just today but also tomorrow and the next day and the next.

I will always remember that light always emerges in spite of darkness. There will always be bad people who do horrible things. I am not sure that we can ever rid this world of evil. However, the events of Monday and those that followed this past week have reminded me that goodness always wins over evil. Etched in my memory are the many first responders, police officers, volunteers and spectators that did what they could to save a life, to comfort a stranger, and help people connect with their loved ones. Through the many acts of courage and kindness the best of humanity emerged in the midst of such tragedy.

I will always remember what it felt like to be told someone I love could be in harms way and how helpless I felt. I will also remember the compassion I experienced from so many in the midst of my fear and how that brought comfort. While it was a different experience, I would imagine that families with loved ones fighting cancer may feel that same terror and helplessness when confronted with the unimaginable. I will continue to do my part so one day they will not have to feel that way.

I will return to run the Boston Marathon in 2014 as a member of the Dana Farber Marathon Challenge Team, not because I need to finish the 26.2 miles or because I want a medal but because I believe that goodness always wins over evil and this is how we do it. As the week went on I realized how very lucky I was. I will honor those who were not as lucky by letting this experience soften my heart rather than harden it. I will move from the feeling of being touched by terror to the memory of being touched by tenderness by so many who with courage and compassion showed the best of our humanity. I too will work to show the best of humanity in all that I do.

Steve's entry going forward:

 

I have to reiterate what Kerry said about knowing that Jeff and Ken and Kerry's mom and friends were waiting for us on Boylston Street, and hearing of the carnage down there, and not knowing if they were hurt or ok, was the worst feeling I've ever had to experience. It was then and there that I understood what the friends and relatives of 9/11 experienced when they knew loved ones were unaccounted for. Even when I think about it now, it sickens me. Luckily, by chance, they were able to walk away, and for that I am truly grateful. My thoughts and prayers go to each and everyone affected by the horrific events of that day, especially of the four people that lost their lives that day.

 

 

I too plan on participating in the 2014 Boston Marathon on Monday, April 21st. I think it's important to keep forging ahead because so many people depend on us to do so.

 

I also wanted to take this opportunity to let everyone know that as of this writing, we have raised over $8,700 this time around. And collectively, in the 5 year's that we have raised money for Dana-Farber, we have surpassed $31,000. So again, thank you so much for your continued support and generosity. Donations are still being accepted, if anyone would still like to donate.

 

I also want to send a special thank you to the Dubuc's; Johnny, Sandy, Chris and Zach for attending the pasta party the night before the marathon. I know how difficult it is for them to attend it knowing Matty's picture will be shown during the "In Memory" portion of the program. My heart goes out to them and I will always appreciate their continued support.

 

 

I also want to thank them for waiting for us at mile 25, even though Kerry and I only made it to mile 24 because of the events of the day. We really tried to make to them, but it just wasn't going to happen this year. I felt especially bad because I had asked Chris to jump in at mile 25 and run to the finish with me. I hope to be able to make it up to him some time.

 

Finally, I wish to thank all of you that reached out to my brother, Kerry and I, and everyone else that was there that day, wanting to make sure that we were all ok and safe. I was overwhelmed by the text message, Facebook posts and phone calls I received that day. It will never forget your acts of kindness!

 

 

 

 

With gratitude and appreciation.

 

Steve

 

Marathon Day Has Arrived

I just returned from the pasta party that Dana-Farber holds the night before the marathon. It is held in two ballrooms at the Copley Marriott in Boston. There were roughly 1,500 people in attendance, from the founder of the Barr program, Delores Weaver, to some of the physicians and scientists at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute.  Then of course, their are the runners and their family and friends, volunteers and, most especially the patient partners that several of the runners will be running in honor of. I can't think of a better way of inspiring the DFMC runners than with this gathering. It truly amazes me and I am reminded each time I attend the pasta party of just how much of an impact the DFMC program is and what it has meant to so many people.

Since its inception 24 years ago, the Barr Program in basic cancer research has raised over $56 million dollars. The first year there was just 19 runners on the team, this year there are roughly 550 runners. Through the efforts of the runners, donors, doctors and scientists and volunteers, we have given hope to so many cancer patients and their families. We were reminded that tomorrow is a time to celebrate and to reflect on all the accomplishments directly related to the Barr Program. Delores Weaver gave a speech and graciously thanked everyone in the room for being an integral part of something that was just a dream 24 years ago. She also told the runners that she would be on the marathon course at mile 7 and mile 17 tomorrow and told us to stop by her for a "high five" or a hug.

While it is true that each member of the team is running for specific people, there are those of us who are running for children, either those that are currently battling cancer, those that battled cancer and are in remission, and the children that lost their battles to cancer. This is a very powerful, moving and often sad time during the pasta party. The "In Memory" part of the program is first and it is where each child's picture is shown on the screen. 27 smiling faces were shown this year. I know how difficult it is for the Dubuc family to see Matty's beautiful and smiling face on the screen. My heart goes out to them and I really appreciate the fact that they choose to attend the pasta party knowing that this is part of the program. The Dubuc's, my running partner Kerry & I all wore our Don't Stop Believing shirts, in honor of Matty. As many of you have come to know, Matty continues to touch so many lives. I can't say enough about the admiration I have for the Dubuc's.

This is the picture of Matty that was shown.

Johnny, Sandy, Chris & Zach, along with my running partner Kerry!

Next is the Patient Partner program which recognizes and honors those children currently in treatment or those children who are in remission, and the runners they are paired up with. The name of the child and the runner are announced and they proceed to the stage. When all was said and done, there were 51 children and 51 runners on the stage. What a beautiful sight to see and a standing ovation was given to honor each and every one of them.

Many runners were recognized for their excellence in fundraising while other runners where recognized for milestone years being on the team, 5, 10, 15 & 20. This is my 5th year running for Dana-Farber. Thank you Sandy for taking this one of me.

Me and the rest of the team hitting the 5 year milestone

 

 

I could go on and on about how inspirational the pasta party is. In the 5 years that I have been on the team (plus the 2 years that I was a volunteer), I have met some of the most amazing individuals, all of whom have been touched by cancer. It truly has been an honor to be part of the DFMC family and I am a better person because of it. I couldn't help tonight but to think that back in 2007, when I attended my first pasta party, I really had no idea how much being on this team would impact my life. It most definitely has been one of the best decisions I've ever made. I also want to thank my brother Jeff and our friend Ken for attending the party. My brother Jeff has been to each event and has been waiting for me close to the finish line each year. I love you Jeff! 

 

Below is the team singlet that I will be wearing tomorrow. As promised, I have listed the names of each person that I was asked to honor this year.

 

Front

 

 







Back

Fundraising Update:  I am humbled by the fact that since my last blog entry just two short weeks ago, we have increased our fundraising total by $1,962 bringing the total to date to $8,352.00. If you will recall, my original goal was $7,000. How amazing is this? I cannot even begin to express how grateful I am to each and every one of you that have made a donation thus far. Keep those donations coming.

For anyone interested in following my progress along the course tomorrow, please do the following.

Text RUNNER to the number 345678.
When you get a response back, type in my bib # 23071.
Then you should get a text back showing my name.

You will get text messages when I cross the 6.2 mile marker (10K), 13.1 mile marker (half marathon), 18.6 mile marker (30k) and when I finish.

Lastly, I have done everything within my control to prepare for tomorrow's marathon, but, as luck would have it, last week I came down with bronchitis. I am still feeling the effects of it tonight, but not nearly as bad as I was a week ago. I have been doing everything the doctor said I should do this week to combat it and have been told that I can run but not to overdo it. I'm not quite sure how one goes about not overdoing it while running a marathon. As it stand now, I'm am going on the premise that I will run tomorrow. I have no idea if I am going to be able to finish, but I am going to give it everything I've got. I will line up behind the starting line in the morning and hope and pray that with 7 marathons under my belt and listening to my body, I will be able to see this one to the finish line.  I have enough inspiration from all the people I'm running for and the support of my friends, family and the half a million people that will be cheering all the way from Hopkinton to Boston. I also am motivated because I asked Chris, Matty's brother, to join me at mile 25 and run to the finish with me.

Please keep me and all the runners in your thoughts tomorrow. I promise you'll all know the outcome by the end of the day tomorrow, if not sooner.

It is still not too late to donate, so, if you haven't done so yet, please visit the link below to donate.
www.rundfmc.org/2013/stevep.

Off to Hopkinton in the morning.

With gratitude and so much appreciation.