Boston Marathon #13, Marathon #120

6 days ago
4 min read

Updated: 6 days ago

This was my first time going into Boston feeling like it was truly my first—full of nerves. Since the Shamrock Virginia Beach Marathon, where I was tripped, I hadn’t run more than three miles (and that was run/walk). My foot doctor had me on steroids and treatments to heal my Achilles. I had no pain going into race weekend, but I was nervous—I simply hadn’t trained. Even my Garmin was telling me I was “detraining,” which was not exactly helpful for my mindset.

I had the 5K on Saturday as my test run. I was hopeful—but unsure.

We headed to Boston Friday afternoon after I took a half day from work. We drove to Hopkinton to see the start line and soak it all in. The Chief of Police, Chief Bennett, took our photo—and Kim even offered him training advice!

From there, we went to our favorite restaurant, TJ’s Food & Spirit in Ashland, for cheeseburgers. The owner recognized us and surprised us with 26.2 glasses and Samuel Adams Boston Marathon bottle openers—it felt like Christmas. We stopped by the statue of Spencer, the beloved golden retriever who cheered on runners year after year, before heading into Boston.

The expo was surprisingly calm—no lines this year. We grabbed our bibs, headed to the finish line, and ran into our friend Sharon Rainer (we somehow see her everywhere—even at the Berlin Marathon!). We also caught the Legends ceremony with Bill Rodgers, Amby Burfoot, Bobbi Gibb, and Meb Keflezighi. I was lucky enough to have Meb sign my bib—it felt like a good omen.

We stayed in Newton Friday night and headed back into Boston Saturday morning for the 5K. I was a bundle of nerves—this would tell me everything about my Achilles. It was a chilly, damp April morning. We ducked into a Starbucks to warm up and ran into our friend Emily from Fleet Feet—and even met her family.

At the start, we also saw my dear friend Joyce Lee from San Francisco—famous for her running streak celebrated every December 31st with a Hello Kitty-themed 5K (I proudly participate virtually every year).

We got into the corral—and once again, ran into Emily. Then the race started, and she was gone! That girl is fast.

By mile 3, I could feel my Achilles. By the finish, I was limping again.

Sunday was low-key. We attended the Blessing of the Athletes, at the Old South Church—such a beautiful and powerful service. The choir, the bagpipes, the message—it’s something I would recommend to anyone running Boston.

That night, we ordered takeout from Eataly Boston to avoid the rain. Unfortunately, it wasn’t great—my plain margherita pizza came with bacon… not ideal pre-race fuel.

Monday—Race Day.

The weather was absolutely perfect for runners—cool, crisp, and ideal for the Boston Marathon. It was also Kim’s 18th Boston, which made the day feel even more special.

We started early at the Unicorn Club hospitality area. Kim had made name decals for our shirts, but we had forgotten them in the car. In the chaos, I didn’t say anything—until I sat down and saw everyone else’s names displayed. Somehow, Kim managed to retrieve them last minute and get them on. It made such a difference.

We took the buses—complete with a police motorcycle escort. At one point, Kim thought we missed the exit and started mapping our route, only for us to pull into a rest stop that looped us right to the start. Classic.

At the start, we ran into Dave Pillon volunteering in a yellow jacket and cowboy hat—definitely photo-worthy.

Then… we ran

I felt good until about mile 3, when my Achilles started to hurt again. I refused to let it take over. Every time Kim asked how I felt, I smiled and said, “This is great.”

The crowd support this year felt stronger than ever. Having our names on our shirts was incredible— “Go Jeanne! Go Kim!”—it carried me.

The course was filled with moments to look forward to:

Mile 4 – my cousin’s wife, Kathy
Mile 5 – Raphael at the Thirsty Irish Runner’s water stop
Mile 7 – Santa Hill (I’m convinced it’s the real Santa)
Mile 8 – Linda Malarkey
Mile 9 – our Fleet Feet crew
Mile 10-ish – Ken, our Virginia Beach pacer, painted red head to toe with gold across his eyes
Mile 12 – the scream tunnel at Wellesley College (louder than ever—my ears were ringing!)
Mile 13 – Barbara and Dee
Mile 16 – Steffan
Mile 20 – Christina from Fleet Feet
Mile 20.5 – Fernanda, Samantha, and Taylor Ann (I couldn’t stop—I knew I wouldn’t start again)
Mile 22 – Jonathan
Mile 23 – Marissa Gannon (my “running daughter”) and then Ed Sweeney
Mile 25 – Barbara and Dee again!
Mile 26 – Audrey
Mile 26.2 – Almi

I crossed the finish line and cried.

I don’t know how I pulled it off. There were moments of sharp, shooting pain where I thought I might have to stop. I treated them like contractions—telling myself, this will pass. And it did.

My quads were screaming too—like knives stabbing—thanks to the lack of training. But I never stopped smiling. I knew if I let negativity creep in, I’d be done.

I refused to give up.

I collected my medal and heat sheet and limped back to the hospitality area, filled with pride and gratitude. I still don’t know how I did it—but I did.

I am so grateful that I can run. I am so grateful for my running community—for every message, every cheer, every moment of support. And I am so grateful for Kim—who stayed by my side the entire race, even though he could have crushed it. Even when he was circling me and driving me a little crazy, I’ve never loved him more.

Here’s to Boston #14 in 2027.I’ll be ready.