Lots to say, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to put it all in a post right now.  A few highlights with more to come from one runners perspective

1. Somewhere between 1/2 million and million cheering people along the way and two stood out
     18.5 miles: My mom – it is the voice that you hear no matter what (I think).  As soon as I heard it I turned to see my mom and dad cheering wildly and couldn’t help but get a huge smile.  My dad took off (bad knee and all) to run along side for a few strides and hand me gummy bears.  A memory I will have forever.  Only a few moments, but just awesome (the best I can do to describe right now).
    19.1 miles: “Daddy!”  “Daddy!” (Savannah) – my dad had told me Christina, the kids, and Aunt Joanie were a half mile ahead, so I started the search.  When I heard Savannah I turned to see them jumping up and down wildly – I was indescriably touched.  I immediately realized the joy they all had in seeing me, and if it was even half the thrill I had in seeing them then how awesome.  I wanted to turn around and just jump up and down with them, but I would have been plowed over on this narrow part of the road.  All I could do by that point was yell ”I love you,” pump a fist and say “race you to Boston.”  One other thought – I know the moments where I can be a “hero” to my children will become increasingly fleeting, but for this moment I was the fastest (bestest) runner in all of Boston.  I will never, ever, ever forget that look.  Between that and the smile all on Christina’s face as she implored me to “keep going baby” or Joanie pumping her fist while she “vicariously” ran Boston I can say without hesitation that made all the winter miles well worth it.  The whole moment was magical.

Mile 15, coming into Newton on a great pace and suddenly feeling an overwhelming warmth on my face.  The sun was out all day, but this was different.  So I looked up into the sky and said a quick prayer of gratitude – HE was with me, no doubt

Other highlights to spend sometime on at some point-

Crossing the timing belts every 5K and knowing that people who mean a lot to me were watching via the web, then getting phone calls on the way home confirming it (plus a bunch of emails).  There were three things that carried me the last 4 miles (the most difficult).  The most important was knowing that the timing belts meant a message to anyone watching – you are inspiring me right now, thank you.  Between that, the crowds, and stubborness it kept the feet moving.

The little girl who handed me an orange and when I dropped it in the pass off yelled “Mr. you dropped the orange” with such urgency that it was clear I wasn’t going to finish the run without it.  I turned around and saw her coming with another orange slice so I headed back and said “thank you – now I’ll be able to make it the rest of the way”  She looked so proud like “yep saved another.”  Having given this run to God I’m certain that there is a reason I had plenty of space to slow and turn back for a second at this point.

Slapping hands with all the kids who lined up along the road, just to cool!

Running next to Lance Armstrong for somewhere between 3 and 7 miles (I didn’t know where exactly he was, but based on the crowd yelling “Lance” I knew he was close by.  Then I was running right next to him for a couple miles.

Watching the blind runner and his guide – that is trust.  Lining up in Hopkinton I had faith that I would finish the race, those runners had faith they could finish and TRUST that someone would keep them on their way.  Awesome.

The crowds, screaming till they lost their voices.  What a lift.

The volunteers handing out water and Gatorade frantically as thousands of runners dashed by

Heartbreak Hill – as a New Hampshire runner who runs on all hills I can honestly say “you call that a hill?”  Now, I will also say that the down hill running that pounds your Quads into submission is something that made me think about joining the cheering crowds more then once.

The finish line and the guy who ran off my right shoulder pushing me that last quarter mile

So much to tell, what a day