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A Boston run – by Chip Bearden

The iconic CITGO sign appeared ahead. Was I dreaming?
The rain had felt real enough before tapering off less than a mile into the run. That’s a good thing–I was wearing new shoes!
There were few vehicles–or runners, for that matter–on Comm Ave. this gloomy Sunday morning. The familiar right onto Hereford & left on Boylston delivered me to a nearly deserted downtown Boston. No marathon day crowds. No noise. No big blue banner ahead. I was surprised & disappointed. The only marker was the finish line painted across the otherwise unremarkable street at the Public Library. There were no signs of the carnage a few weeks earlier: no crime scene barricades; no wilting flowers or hand-written notes; & no blackened concrete or shattered storefronts or other violent signatures.
But maybe that’s the way it should be. To the average person, this new American killing zone might be a curiosity, like an Italian restaurant in New York’s Little Italy made famous by mobsters gunned down there by rivals.
But I suspect that to Boston Marathoners, marathoners in general, and runners of all stripes this will always be a special place.
I said a prayer, looped the Boston Common where I waited in the Nor’easter in 2007 for my first nervous, giddy bus ride to Hopkinton, & then headed back.
The rain resumed a few blocks before I made it to the hotel.

— at In Boston last weekend to bring Josie back from BC.


Photo Highlights

Photos on flickr

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