Last month Jason and I descended upon Boston, Massachusetts for the first time ever. This trip had been planned since November 2010, when Jason ran the Seattle Marathon and qualified for Boston. A Boston qualifying time is good for two years and that was a good thing since we were on Semester at Sea for the 2011 Boston marathon.
The marathon was a personal milestone for Jason in more ways than one. A lifelong runner, he hadn’t done many road races in his 30’s due to increasing back pain. About 3 years ago he began the arduous process of getting to the root of the problem when his left leg started dragging any time after a short jog. When physical therapy and medication made little impact, a visit to the surgeon confirmed he needed back fusion surgery. After the surgery, weeks long recovery and 3 1/2 months in a back brace (which included two pneumonia spells from the constriction on his lungs from the brace), Jason’s back was healed. The surgeon assured him his back was practically injury proof and give him the green light to run again. He did, in a big way, running his first marathon just 5 months after getting his brace off! And the rest, as they say, is history…
A bit more background information is necessary before I launch into details of the trip. The night before we were supposed to leave (actually about 12 hours before driving to the airport), Jason got a call from his brother. His mom, Marguerite, had just received the results from an MRI that showed a significant brain tumor. Her family practioner, not the radiologist, relayed the news in an alarming manner, urging her to drive to Oregon Health Sciences University in Portland literally at that moment (he even told her not to take the time to go home and pack!), OHSU would admit her and probably perform surgery that night.
So Jason had to drive his mom, dad, and brother to the hospital that evening, not returning till 11:30 p.m. Those 5 1/2 hours were filled with chaos, worry, dread, and doubt. Should we cancel the trip? Spend the night at the hospital? Postpone our flight? Would Marguerite be okay?
The surgery didn’t happen Friday night (like her local doctor predicted.) Ultimately, we flew out as scheduled. Marguerite, in her unselfish and faithful way, insisted that Jason go. So we did, with heavy hearts. Jason’s sister Rebecca kept us informed and we were able to talk to Marguerite several times before the operation. The marathon was actually a positive diversion for her as she waited and waited. Her surgery was delayed twice and didn’t happen until after Jason finished the marathon on Monday.
Marguerite Nice, 3 weeks post brain surgery.
And the best part? The surgeons were able to remove every bit of the large strawberry-sized tumor. It was a slow growing tumor with no tentacles rooting into the brain, and most importantly, BENIGN. What a thrilling relief and incredible blessing after how the family practioner set us all up for the most miserable outcome.
All right. Despite a cloud of anxiousness hovering over us the first few days, we fell hard for Beantown! Arriving on Saturday afternoon after a nonstop flight (what a luxury!) we were looking forward to, well, everything. It was a sunshiny 70 degrees as we walked through a pedestrian park to our apartment. What a cinch taking the “T” (short for MBTA – Boston’s totally awesome public transit system) from the airport to the Back Bay subway station.
Braddock Park
Blossomy magnolia and dogwood trees lined Braddock Park, the lane where our rental was located. The European-style brick row houses oozed charm, and as we settled into our cozy 1 bedroom apartment, the realization that we lucked out with a terrific location sunk in.
As soon as Jason’s marathon registration was accepted last September we scrambled to find accomodations. The starting place was VRBO, and but no one replied to our emails. Somehow I stumbled on to the Boston Bed and Breakfast Association. I booked it on the spot, paying 50% of the total, as accomodations for the marathon fill up within a few days. Not having a clue about Boston’s geography, I had to trust the kind woman on the line that this place in the South End neighborhood was decent and somewhat close to the finish line.
Well, 19 Braddock Park could not have been more perfect. Original hardwood floors, crown moulding, full kitchen, and a beautifully updated bathroom made it our home away from home for four days. Once unpacked, we ventured up the block to find a corner super market, owned by friendly Ethiopians, a liquor store (like Philadelphia, and maybe other East coast cities, the grocery stores don’t sell any alcohol), and scoped out dinner possibilities.
Aside from the expected weariness and the emotional weight of Marguerite’s impending surgery, that familiar energy simmered in my core, warming me like it does every time I snag a “hit” from my drug of choice, Travel. Walking around the South End, carefree from children, work and the routine of Daily Life made me practically giddy. All that quaint red brick! Balmy spring sun! Three whole days to explore a new city! Enough already – you get the picture.
Boston’s ubiquitous red brick architecture.
On Sunday morning, Jason invited me to join him for a pre-race tune up. We hardly ever run together any more because of schedules and well, I’m too slow and have only a fraction of the endurance he does! What a fun run and terrific way to grasp the layout of Beantown. It reminded me of our Semester at Sea running club jaunts in all those foreign cities. Boston is really compact, one reason it’s considered America’s walking city. We only had to ask for directions once and the kindly local wanted to send us along the most scenic route. We jogged through the botanical garden, Boston Common, and Copley Square.
Botanical garden, America’s first!
Next up was making our way to the Convention Center so Jason could pick up his packet at the marathon expo. We got a bit confused transferring from the subway to the bus but made it okay, thanks to a helpful bus driver. The expo was jammed with the fittest looking people I’ve ever seen in my life. Marathoners have a very distinct look – super lean, alert, and thin faces.
Packet pick-up for bib #3832!
Jason doesn’t love crowds so we didn’t hang around long after we bought him a decent pair of sunglasses. He was obsessive about checking the weather forecast on my phone; marathon day was predicted to be in the high 80’s – yikes!
Now that’s a swag bag!
We didn’t have a huge agenda after the packet pick up and soon found ourselves resting on a bench in Boston Common. Boston Common is the oldest public park in America, founded in 1634. Ralph Waldo Emerson herded his cows here on the way to school! The British Redcoats camped and drilled there for 8 years during the time of the Revolution.
Boston Common, America’s first public park.
Today it’s a 44 acre swath of tree-lined walks, lots of lawn, and pretty much a giant backyard for locals and tourists of all ages. Boston Common doesn’t have the manicured beauty of the botanical garden right across the street, and that’s just as well. That down-to-earth, come-as-you-are and just hang out vibe worked for us. We witnessed a public tea party rally at the gazebo along with an anti-tea party protest marching close enough to distract but keeping it legal, along the line of law enforcement.
Boston Common – can you see the gazebo?
Once we realized Cheers was in the same block we pried ourselves off our comfy bench. Jason passed on the $8 beer in light of the dehydrating 26.2 miles awaiting him the following morning, so I sat at the bar (the same one used on the TV set) and pretended that everybody knew my name.
Here’s some useful trivia for you: the creators of Cheers (Glen and Les Charles) went to the University of Redlands, my alma mater. The inspiration for Cheers was Gay 90’s pizza parlor, the popular watering hole in Redlands. The original Gay 90’s ramshackle building lasted just through my freshman year, then it moved to a more respectable place downtown – but it was never quite the same. And I think it’s closed now. Ah, the memories! And that’s my brush with fame…
A Boston Duck -named for the DUKW – amphibious vehicles used in WWII.
Now we had to make some crucial decisions. With about half a day left, we (I) wanted to maximize our time. Jason didn’t want to do much walking, understandably. We (I) decided to take the famous Duck tour, a 90 minute city and water tour on an “amphibious” vehicle. After a quick call we knew there were openings on the 5:00 tour so we hoofed it over to the Prudential Center. Except it was about a 40 minute walk instead of 20 minutes. Ooops. Time for a snack and then wait in line for the 6:00 tour. Hey, we got terrific seats!
Eddie “Air Time” cruised us around town and taught us how to “harness the power of the quack.” Yes, we collectively quacked more than once at unsuspecting pedestrians. He was completely hilarious, skillfully weaving entertaining anecdotes into a really informative presentation.
Our Duck tour guide, Eddie “Air Time.”
We learned how Boston is a city of firsts – 1st public school, 1st botanical garden, 1st public library, 1st public park, and (my favorite) 1st chocolate factory. Another fun fact: 40% of Boston is landfill…it took 35 years of shoveling dirt 24 hours/day, 6 days aweek to create Back Bay (which is obviously not water anymore, but the area of the Botanical Garden and Copley Square.) This shovel brigade increased Boston from a mere 1 1/2 mile peninsula to 44 square miles!
Massachusetts State House
When the Duck skimmed into the Charles River (coffee brown not from pollution but from the tannins in the tree leaves) I snapped a photo of Eddie. At which point he selected me as the first volunteer driver! When Eddie learned I was from Oregon he quipped, “See that orb in the sky? Do you know what that is?” Somehow I managed to maneuver the Duck despite the evening sunlight practically blinding my Pacific Northwest eyes!
Driving the Duck on the Charles River!
We capped off the day with a carbo-loading dinner for Jason at Maggiano’s, a big, animated Italian restaurant buzzing with marathoners. Jason’s quiet pensiveness contrasted the bustling atmosphere, his thoughts on his mom, the race, the scorching forecasted temperatures, and his tired legs from all the walking we’d inadvertently done that day.
My determination to keep this post short and sweet clearly did not match the outcome. Stay tuned for the marathon story and the Freedom Trail….coming soon!
Experiential Passage 