The Boston Marathon: What's the Big Deal?

The Boston Marathon: What's the Big Deal?

Boston.  That one word to any aspiring runner is all that is needed to get their attention. For many reasons, this race has captured the world’s attention. So much so that even non-runners know it’s a big deal — but why?

I was asking myself this question as I headed to my first Boston Marathon in 2010. I had qualified, which I realize is a bucket list goal for many so I don’t take that lightly. But I headed there with some skepticism to see what the hoopla was all about. What I found was an experience like no other that’s brought me back a total of six times.  This past Monday, I was lucky enough to run this epic race once more and I found myself reflecting on the special moments that define this race while I was running it.  It’s the people. Those in the race and those supporting it.

The start line is a buzz of energy and nervous anticipation. With 134 countries and 50 states represented, it’s a melting pot of world aspirations.  Seconds before my corral was released to begin the march towards Boston, I was surrounded by runners from China, Ireland, and Japan. A quick good-luck fist-bump to each was the only language we needed.

History is part of the charm. It’s the world’s oldest annual marathon with the first race dating back to 1897. The locals are very proud of that and they should be. Marathon Monday is a state holiday in Massachusetts so kids are out of school and parents stay home from work. Many of them set up small parties along the route to witness and support those fulfilling their Boston Marathon dreams. You can feel their joy as you run past.

You see the history all along the course, which starts in the small, rural New England town of Hopkinton and passes through other small communities like Ashland, Framingham, and Natick as you make your way towards the big city of Boston, mile by mile. All along the course I saw red brick fire houses, small town churches, and people…so many people! Kids holding out their hands for a high-five while others gave out orange slices.

The signs people make are next level. Along with the supportive “You Got This” signage are the ones that make you laugh and take your mind off the grind. These are the ones you remember. Those that stood out to me were “Due to inflation, you will be running 27 miles today”, and “Run like her Dad just walked in”. My favorite was from a guy that appeared to be naked, standing on a bridge pillar, with a sign over his midsection that said, “Run faster or I’ll drop the sign”. I sped up.

Wellesley College is famous for the girls “Scream Tunnel” and their “Kiss Me” signs. Later, it’s the kids from Boston College that are going nuts as you pass by. As I witnessed both of these crazy environments I realized that my 20 second experience while passing them comes and goes, but these kids are screaming for hours like they are at the National Championship football game.

For 26.2 miles, people are providing encouragement.  Some are waiting for a loved one to pass by, but they are cheering on strangers they don’t know for hours. Others are just there to offer support and witness the human spirit and the struggle to complete a major challenge. As I watched this incredible showing of kindness play out, I wondered — what makes watching a marathon so interesting? We cheer each other on without knowing religious beliefs, political affiliations, or back stories. We offer this encouragement expecting nothing in return.

I believe we are drawn to the story of struggle, now more than ever. The marathon is real. The struggle is real. There are no hacks, shortcuts, or AI assistance when you are facing adversity. There is only one way through the marathon: putting…in…the…work. Those that come to watch come to celebrate and witness this inner strength on display.

Heartbreak Hill is notorious as the place where marathon dreams live or die. It’s actually a culmination of four rolling hills that is the crux of the race. This is the symbol of the marathon, with spectators cheering on those struggling to keep going, hoping their support can somehow will that runner over the crest of the last hill. At the same time, I saw runners supporting each other, with words of encouragement as they know their running mates are battling the same internal dialogue suggesting they should give in.

When you hit the big city of Boston, it’s pure chaos. The last few miles are a big blur of cheering unlike anything I’ve seen — and the crowds have been at it for hours. The final two turns famously known as “Right on Hereford, left on Boylston” make you feel like you are sprinting to the finish line at the Olympic Games.  It’s this support that sees many runners finish faster than they started, somehow fueled by the epic scene that is resonating throughout their bodies.

After I crossed the finish line, I was one of many who were delirious and staggering as they felt the relief of being done.  A fellow runner yelled “We did it!” and gave me a bear hug. I didn’t know him and never saw him again after that, but I shared the feeling of joy and wanting to celebrate this experience with others. It’s here where Boston shines yet again. Volunteers line the street to support those struggling to find their balance while congratulating everyone that passes by. They genuinely care about those they are there to help.

And that’s the beauty of this race and the gift of encouragement. To those giving it, it costs nothing. To those receiving it, it means everything.  It’s the human spirit on display for those on the course and those lining the streets. It’s the people. That’s Boston.