Click here to catch up on the rest of my time in Boston:
Day 1: Friday
Day 2: Saturday
Day 3: Sunday
Day 4: Race Report
I got back to my Airbnb sometime around 2:30 to see my phone had blown up with messages from friends, family and students, which was nice. I took some time to take a selfie and post to social media, respond to a few messages, then I finally took a shower and lazed about more. I had planned to take a nap before heading out for the night, but I was too restless.
I also got a few messages from people back home concerned about a woman from my running group. She was in the white corral and had passed me at mile 19 looking fantastic, but then never registered a finishing time. I had just gotten dressed and was on my way out the door to check for her at the med tents when I got another text saying she had been found. She had indeed gone down just before the finish and ended up in a med tent for nearly two hours. It was just that kind of day.
Around 4:45 I left to meet up with Larry, also from my running group. Larry had been scheduled to stay at the Ritz Carlton but they overbooked their rooms and ended up putting him up in another hotel, but as a result they were incredibly apologetic all weekend, comping his dinner that night and his hotel room for next year's marathon.
We first hung out for an hour in the Ritz's penthouse clubhouse drinking champagne and eating the many hors d'oeuvres set out. The Ritz gave every guest a framed congratulatory note with blue and yellow balloons attached.
In my amazement to be experiencing how the other half lives for a night, I never actually got a picture of myself with Larry. Or any of the food. Or the three people we spent an hour talking to. I'm really a bad blogger.
At six o'clock Larry and I had to head downstairs for dinner at the hotel's restaurant where Larry was meeting clients. He was able to expense the meal on account of this, which became moot when the Ritz comped the whole meal due to bungling his room. They also sent out the head chef to shake our hands and be one more person to apologize to Larry. The life of a high roller, eh?
And so I found myself in a fancy hotel restaurant drinking beer and eating a $30 cheeseburger (the best one I've ever eaten, for the record, though any post marathon burger is bound to be amazing), and Larry chiding me for not ordering the $50 steak, talking financial mumbo jumbo with strangers, nodding sagely at words like "fiduciary" and finally chiming in when talk veered towards running again. At the end of the meal Larry was presented with a specially prepared cake in honor of his 100th marathon and his upcoming birthday.
I swear Larry really does exist and this isn't some elaborate ruse.
Around 8 o'clock, after dinner and Larry's clients had left, and after drinking beer and champagne for three hours, I figured it was a good time to head back to my Airbnb and finally get some sleep. So I said good night to Larry and headed out.
On my way back, though, I passed the Cheers bar. The last time I had been inside was when I was six years old on a trip to Boston with my family. I figured I should at least go inside and take a look. Maybe get a picture.
You know where this is heading.
Once inside, I thought, "well I'm here, may as well order a beer." So I got another Sam Adams 26.2 and settled in near the bar.
Not two minutes into my beer, though, when in comes Melissa and her mother, two of the three people Larry and I had hung out with in the penthouse at the Ritz a few hours earlier. We were super excited to see each other.
Welp... three hours later I was still there, laughing and sharing beers and stories with random runners as they came and went, including a guy who I'm pretty sure went by Ninja Tom. I shared my blog address with Melissa, so if you're reading this, great to meet you and congrats on your BQ for next year!
I have no idea who the guy in the above picture is, but he really wanted a picture with me.
Around midnight my new crew was still going strong and offered to buy my next round, but I finally decided to call it quits and get some sleep. Lots of hugs and back slaps ensued, and I left the bar.
Happier than I'd been in a long, long time, I stumbled home on a picture perfect Boston evening.
Day 1: Friday
Day 2: Saturday
Day 3: Sunday
Day 4: Race Report
I got back to my Airbnb sometime around 2:30 to see my phone had blown up with messages from friends, family and students, which was nice. I took some time to take a selfie and post to social media, respond to a few messages, then I finally took a shower and lazed about more. I had planned to take a nap before heading out for the night, but I was too restless.
I also got a few messages from people back home concerned about a woman from my running group. She was in the white corral and had passed me at mile 19 looking fantastic, but then never registered a finishing time. I had just gotten dressed and was on my way out the door to check for her at the med tents when I got another text saying she had been found. She had indeed gone down just before the finish and ended up in a med tent for nearly two hours. It was just that kind of day.
Around 4:45 I left to meet up with Larry, also from my running group. Larry had been scheduled to stay at the Ritz Carlton but they overbooked their rooms and ended up putting him up in another hotel, but as a result they were incredibly apologetic all weekend, comping his dinner that night and his hotel room for next year's marathon.
We first hung out for an hour in the Ritz's penthouse clubhouse drinking champagne and eating the many hors d'oeuvres set out. The Ritz gave every guest a framed congratulatory note with blue and yellow balloons attached.
In my amazement to be experiencing how the other half lives for a night, I never actually got a picture of myself with Larry. Or any of the food. Or the three people we spent an hour talking to. I'm really a bad blogger.
At six o'clock Larry and I had to head downstairs for dinner at the hotel's restaurant where Larry was meeting clients. He was able to expense the meal on account of this, which became moot when the Ritz comped the whole meal due to bungling his room. They also sent out the head chef to shake our hands and be one more person to apologize to Larry. The life of a high roller, eh?
And so I found myself in a fancy hotel restaurant drinking beer and eating a $30 cheeseburger (the best one I've ever eaten, for the record, though any post marathon burger is bound to be amazing), and Larry chiding me for not ordering the $50 steak, talking financial mumbo jumbo with strangers, nodding sagely at words like "fiduciary" and finally chiming in when talk veered towards running again. At the end of the meal Larry was presented with a specially prepared cake in honor of his 100th marathon and his upcoming birthday.
I swear Larry really does exist and this isn't some elaborate ruse.
Around 8 o'clock, after dinner and Larry's clients had left, and after drinking beer and champagne for three hours, I figured it was a good time to head back to my Airbnb and finally get some sleep. So I said good night to Larry and headed out.
On my way back, though, I passed the Cheers bar. The last time I had been inside was when I was six years old on a trip to Boston with my family. I figured I should at least go inside and take a look. Maybe get a picture.
You know where this is heading.
Once inside, I thought, "well I'm here, may as well order a beer." So I got another Sam Adams 26.2 and settled in near the bar.
Not two minutes into my beer, though, when in comes Melissa and her mother, two of the three people Larry and I had hung out with in the penthouse at the Ritz a few hours earlier. We were super excited to see each other.
Welp... three hours later I was still there, laughing and sharing beers and stories with random runners as they came and went, including a guy who I'm pretty sure went by Ninja Tom. I shared my blog address with Melissa, so if you're reading this, great to meet you and congrats on your BQ for next year!
 |
| Melissa, ?, Me, Ninja Tom |
I have no idea who the guy in the above picture is, but he really wanted a picture with me.
Around midnight my new crew was still going strong and offered to buy my next round, but I finally decided to call it quits and get some sleep. Lots of hugs and back slaps ensued, and I left the bar.
Happier than I'd been in a long, long time, I stumbled home on a picture perfect Boston evening.
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