Don't Stop Smiling: A Tribute to Boston's Eternal Spirit

April 21, 2003: Patriot's Day in Boston, aka Boston Marathon Day. Before committing to run the marathon earlier that year, I had no idea that such a holiday even existed. And it wasn't one of those arbitrary holidays either, like Columbus Day, where everyone talks about it but no one actually has it off. No, Patriot's Day is fondly recognized by the city of Boston. On this day, the entire city essentially shuts down in order to allow its residents to enthusiastically observe or participate in the world's oldest modern marathon, spanning from Hopkinton to downtown Boston. 

Marathoners and me at the finish line the day before the race

I had only been training for the marathon for about six months and was, to put it bluntly, scared to death that I would never be able to make it through. Having never before run a race longer than five miles, I had not qualified for the marathon and was simply running with childhood friends, one of whom attended Boston University, to support Rosie's Place, a local charity that I admittedly knew little about at the time. On the morning of the race, the group of marathoners and I painted our names all over our bodies and across our shirts, ensuring that people would be able to cheer for us as we made our way through the seemingly endless 26.2 mile course.

Not being qualified runners, we had to start the race so far back that it took us a half hour after the gun went off just to cross the start line. With the sun beating down on our backs and fatigue already setting in, I remember that long trek to the starting line, wondering if it was even worth it to start or if I should just jump on the T and give up now. Blasting my specially prepared marathon mix on my Discman, Eminem's "Lose Yourself" carried me through those moments of hopelessness, which, compared to today's events, pale in comparison to what this year's marathoners had to endure.

However, as soon as I entered the marathon course, it was absolutely impossible not to lose myself. Bostonians and tourists alike lined the streets of the entire 26.2 mile course. At no point during the entire race was there a time when there wasn't a smiling face zealously cheering me on. Jovial strangers were continuously shouting my name with words of encouragement.

"Run, Gretchen, run!"

"Don't stop smiling, Gretchen!"

And I couldn't stop smiling. Though I'm sure the endorphins and my personal pride played a part in the grin plastered across my face, I have always attributed the majority of my ecstasy on that day to the contagious enthusiasm emanating from the residents of the city of Boston. For hours, I was showered in cheers and praises, given countless high fives, hugs, and even a few kisses. For the first (and perhaps only) time in my life, I had my own personal cheering section that never abandoned me, no matter how difficult the course got, and, with their support, I made it through. At that time in my life, no other event had had such a positive impact on me and I have carried that experience with me ever since.

As I awoke this morning on the other side of the world on the 10th anniversary of what was such a life-altering and empowering event for me, I was immediately bombarded by the news of the explosions that had taken place just hours before in Boston. My heart immediately sank. It seemed incomprehensible that someone would feel the need to cause such utter destruction on a day that has the potential to be filled with such joy and personal accomplishment. It saddens me that this group or individual will probably never feel such overwhelming support from anyone, much less an entire city that willingly opens its doors and supports throngs of strangers that pound its streets each and every year.

However, as I click through the images and news footage, I am heartened to see the amazing support provided by the city of Boston's emergency response personnel and its ever-devoted citizens. Though understandably dampened by today's events, Boston's spirit has not been destroyed. And now, it is my turn to lend my support and encouragement to the city that so willingly gave theirs to me when I so desperately needed it. Stay strong, Bostonians. Don't stop smiling.