It might be the greatest victory of this city and the world running community that the marathon bombings a decade ago had far from an overwhelming presence in Monday’s race. – New York Times
IF mementoes could talk…
Well, they do, don’t they?
I flew Jet Blue, one of the best flights of my life. Because it was one of the shortest.
Which is a good thing, because you don’t want to be stuck aboard Jet Blue at meal time.
For you non-mini-hard-salted-pretzel people, there’s the SIT ‘N’ RELAX CINNAMON MAPLE SEED + OAT THIN BAR.
I kept the wrapper.
100 CaloriesNut-Free Vegan Gluten-Free. Net Wt. 0.8 oz. (22g)
Ingredients: Oats, Pumpkin Seeds, Sunflower Seeds, Brown Rice Syrup, Maple Syrup, Ground Flax Seeds, Cinnamon, Sea Salt.
A dozen of these and bucket of cold water, you’d have yourself a real feed.
But a matched set of slender wafers, even when paired with a Pepsi Zero, which I didn’t know was a thing? Not so much.
The cabby was from Belarus and looked it. You know, like all the bad guys on BBC mysteries. Told him my destination, he looked disappointed. I could imagine him trying to snap my neck.
Safely delivered to the Moxy, where all the Death Metal fans typically stay, I tipped him excessively and then he LUNGED!!! and gave me a quick gentle hug.
Most definitely staying at the Copley Plaza next time. Hoping there’s a next time.
Sitting alone in a crowd at the Copley Plaza’s Oak Bar, I heard a voice to my left say, “Can I give you a free t-shirt?” Reminds me of the time Nelson Farris asked, “Do you like wildly-colored shoes?”
In the photo at top, I am wearing a Mizuno-branded 2023 OSAKA MARATHON shirt, size Large, because the lady at his side reminded – ‘Japanese sizing.’ Made in Thailand, it must be noted.
The color is perfect for dodging heavily-medicated seniors wearing cataract glasses, racing their souped-up golf carts because they’re late for the book burning.
But the slogan could be dangerous in these parts – MAKING A RAINBOW TOGETHER.
The location of the press room is always somewhere I can’t find it. This has to be intentional. Nobody who works at the Copley seems to know either. Unless they’ve specifically been told not to tell me.
Eventually. The lanyard and the outstanding adidas windbreaker almost made me cry. And then when I saw the price tag on the jacket, I thought, these people are trying to buy my affections and it’s working. Thank you, Chris Lotsbom, B.A.A. Director of Race Communications & Media.
The savvy press relations professional knows, when the going gets weird, the real pros keep going.
At the Rock Bottom – actual name – deep into my third post-race party, the bartender just seemed to think I needed a memento.
I no longer have my Samuel Adams “BOSTON MARATHON” bottle opener.
A couple years late for a house-warming and my buddy already had everything else. Figure if TSA will confiscate my water bottle, the Gatorade bottle and the container of that new Cinnabon-flavored Boost – an elderly man’s attempt to stay hydrated – they would surely snag a big metal souvenir kitchen utensil.
A charity runner already has a 2023 edition on eBay for $24.99. Look for it under “Breweriana.” The last item from her swag bag left to sell.
Back at the Oak Room, I bump into Patti Catalano Dillon and Dan Dillon. Like distant relatives who rarely ever get together. So, when we do, it’s so exciting. Dan buys beers, everybody talks too loud, mostly about our dogs and I say, that reminds me, I have to remember to get my wife a gift.
Think what reminded me, Patti asked, ‘Where’s your wife?’
Ha. I am finally old enough to travel by myself.
That might’ve been the same night the DeSantis administration decided to dial every Floridian’s cellphone at 4:45 a.m. My wife, startled awake, this is true, her first thought was, “Oh, my God, what has he gone and done now?”
Anyway, Mrs. Dillon suddenly pulls out a little white box (left hand in top photo): ‘Here, give her these.’
Would you believe… designed by an erstwhile World Record holder, created by indigenous artisans, in a limited edition and presented with love? Yup. BAA colors, complete with unicorn. And, just like that, I was done shopping for my bride.
Would’ve kept them for myself, but my lifelong fear of drooping ear lobes continues unabated.
Eventually. Found the Ball Room where every working reporter in town seemed to have arrived much earlier. On assignment first time in years, writing for a foreign quarterly, I was surprised to discover NO open bar. Obviously, the suits in charge care nothing about art.
There was food. I’d have another memento but I ate it. Free cookies. The same chocolate chip cookies available in the Oak Room for only $14. “Pairs nicely with a chocolate martini. $19.” I just bet it does.
Everybody seems to be watching me suspiciously or completely unaware of my existence – I get this a lot. A misfit out of place.
So, when I see a familiar face, not nearly as hirsute as I remember, I saunter up to Coach Tom Derderian and say, ‘Boo.’ Words to that effect.
Tommy D. is the sage from whom the oldest old timers seek Boston marathon lore. I was standing right there when one wondering scribe burst through the crowd and asked Tom for some random arcane historical trivia.
“I don’t really have the book memorized,” he said. Yeah, well, Tom Derderian WROTE the book.
It was all I could do not to stare, so I stared anyway. Look at who penned forewords for this guy. My, goodness.
And Tom noticed. “Do you have this?”
I do now.
Tom said, when he signs a volume, he likes to ask about a reader’s interests, to get a sense of what to write. But he didn’t ask me. My book is inscribed, ‘For Jack D. – I know too much about you.’
Wasn’t the updated edition, barely over 800 pages, but it was the only copy the renowned Boston historian had with him. I am the man who will take your last copy.
Unless it really is.
Later, the runner/coach/author led me to Clery’s concrete-walled basement for a raucous Greater Boston Track Club post-race blow-out. Beer was consumed. Think I stayed longer than Tom did.
A neighborhood favourite located in the historic South End, Clerys is one of the most dynamic venues in the Back Bay.
OpenTable.com
I am in Boston to celebrate my Golden Anniversary, so I had to see what he’d written about the 1973 race. Ten whole pages. My Top 500 finish is not noted.
My actual Boston Marathon hero at the time was the defending women’s champion, the first official women’s winner, Nina Kuscsik. She’s got all the female explorer titles. First official woman finisher. First Course Record Holder.
Could’ve tripped Cosell in the high school gym, but I don’t remember being close enough to see the starting line in 1973. Tommy D. – no relation – tells what the scene looked like:
At the starting line of the second year of women-officially-in-the-marathon, the notorious Katherine Switzer moved to her position on the starting line. Celebrated sportscaster Howard Cosell worked from atop a large platform 100 feet in front of the runners. Spectators gazed up at him. Jock Semple focused his critical eye on Switzer. It had been agreed that one woman would start with her toe on the line and the others would file in behind her. The honor of being the woman to toe the line would go to last year’s winner, Nina Kuscsik. Semple approached Switzer. She wore a number. The cameramen were ready. She thought he was going to yell at her, to tell her to get back. He was yelling at everyone else, chasing the high-numbered runners away from the starting line. But instead of yelling at Switzer, he smiled and said, “Come on, lass, let’s get a wee bit o’ notoriety.” In front of the clicking cameras he gave her a giant kiss. With that symbolic act, women racers in the Boston Marathon were at last celebrated in spirit as well as in the letter of the law.
p. 354, ‘Kuscsik Back to Defend Title’, Boston Marathon, Tom Derderian.
I was going to tell you this long story all imagined about how I came to be in possession of an adidas aluminum blanket awarded to official race finishers.
My wife said, “Don’t.” She is way smarter than I am. Way.
A charity runner was overheard to say, “CHARITY RUNNERS ARE THE HEART OF THE BOSTON MARATHON.”
You’ll just have to guess the rest yourself.
