Day 3, September 23, 2007, in which legs seem unable to go another step:
This is the hardest leg of the trip for me to recap. It’s a morning that I remember in snapshots. Please forgive me if this seems disjointed.
I awoke early on Sunday morning. The Big Day. I dressed, preened, sprayed, decorated myself into this:
Not the most flattering picture, ever, but all the necessary items: pink hair, pink Mardi Gras beads, race bib, name button, pink bracelets and cheering pom-pom. I was ready to go. I was ready to have fun, run/walk a race, and revel in realizing the work of months and months by many people. This was to be the pinnacle of the entire trip. Indeed, it was, but it was so much more than I ever expected.
As I said, I remember that morning in snapshots. I remember thinking, upon walking into the race compound, that I was no longer in my small town. There were tons of people milling about, teams, coordinators, survivors. The men and women in blue and pink shirts – the Survivors. This is the snapshot that keeps coming back to me, my impressions of the Survivors. They were people of all ages, shapes and colors. I was shocked to see so many women that appeared to be near my age. I was simultaneously saddened and uplifted by the survivors with small children in tow, the man pushing a loved survivor in a wheelchair. (Later, I’d be passed by little old lady survivors, running much faster than I could!) I was amazed by the survivor who had participated in 170-odd races, nationwide. I realized that my incredibly simple mind had yet to really comprehend the true impact of such a grass-roots organization like Susan G. Komen for the Cure.
Here are a few actual snapshots:
These are the names of my loved ones and those of my sponsors who have been affected by cancer, in some way. One column is In Honor Of those who have or have survived cancer. The other is In Memory Of those who lost the battle with their illness. As a teammate pinned these names to my shirt, it hit me again that this cause is so important. I can only hope for a race where there are no new names to wear.
This is the survivor parade coming toward us. I was standing next to a dear teammate whose mother is currently undergoing treatment for breast cancer. This teammate is a strong young lady that I admire a lot. One look at her, with just a few tears in her eyes during this incredibly moving moment, and I was an internal mess.
After an emotional few moments, runners were called to the starting line and the rest of us lined up behind them. Once the race began, it took a while for the crush of people to cross the starting line, then we were off. My lovely teammates MB and Loyal were by my side through the entire first mile. We’d get a burst of energy and run a few yards. A little after the first water stop, I snapped a quick picture and decided to take off. There wasn’t much running, but I was inspired and ran on and off for the rest of the race. I was able to snap this lovely picture of the Back Bay:
I finished the race in a time I can live with, 48 minutes (adjusted for the lengthy trip to the starting line). Our team was honored for our fundraising and I think everyone left the race compound with a heart that was a bit more uplifted than normal. I felt a sense of accomplishment, of pride, and of increased understanding. It was wonderful.
Day 3, September 23, 2007, in which Lydia sees the “other” parts of Boston:
After departing the hotel, having said goodbye to my newly visible friends, the lovely MzH and I navigated the T, with my ultimate destination being the Porter Square terminal, to meet my lovely cousin E. She, in her ever-thoughtful way, suggested that we drive (thank God, not walk) out to Concord and to Walden Pond. It was lovely, despite the popularity of the spot on such a nice September Sunday. I could easily imagine the peace and serenity Thoreau found in the area.
Thoreau’s Cabin
Me and my little buddy, Hank. Can you believe how small he was? This is, evidently, a true-to-life representation.
Walden Pond, where people actually go for the small beach!
After our catch-up-on-life session at Walden Pond, E and I headed to Concord. It is such a cute little town. We had some fabulous ice cream and headed back to Somerville to her and W’gang’s apartment. If all apartments are as nice (despite the ten cats! who are lovingly cared for by E & W) as theirs, maybe I could get down with living in Boston!
E and I napped, as those in our family are wont to do. Then, she and W and I headed out on the town, thankfully (again!) not on our feet. They showed me their adorable former neighborhoods, the Harvard Divinity School, Hah-vahd Yahd and different parts of Cambridge. There are some the most beautiful older homes, there. I’d love to know the history of them all. As we walked around the Harvard campus and surrounding areas (while I was totally talking too much to take pictures of), I pretended that every bar was the one from Good Will Hunting and that Matt Damon was lurking around each corner. Sadly, it wasn’t so. We capped off a great day with drinks at a lovely bar, great conversation, and a dinner at a cute little Asian fusion restaurant (with odd music – country? in Boston? in an Asian restaurant?).
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Besides recapping the trip to the airport on Monday, that’s my trip to Boston, not really in a nutshell. I had a lovely time and enjoyed meeting new friends and seeing family. Admittedly, I was extremely happy to get home on Monday afternoon. I intended to sleep a lot, but did something better, drank good beer with excellent company.
Next year? I’m running it. The whole thing.
