I awoke Tuesday morning to an empty room. It was 8:00AM and the girls had left and I didn't even hear them! I guess I was tired. I really wanted to say good-bye, I thought for sure I'd wake up, but I guess I needed to sleep. When I woke up I couldn't go back to sleep. If you know me, you know I have a talent for sleeping. Only 5 hours of sleep after a marathon and the day I had? Not right, just not right. I woke up and was ready to shower and get on with the day. A few quick texts later and I met Lowell and Terry at breakfast. Smooth and her family came down to say good-bye shortly after as well. They were taking the T to Eric's car then driving back to Ohio where Eric lives. It was hard to say good-bye after the day before, but it was soon done and they were on their way. After a nice, big breakfast fit for a glutton I went back up to the room and packed up. Lowell and Terry were going to drag me around town on the freedom trail...my choice. I dropped stuff in their room and we took off exploring Bunker Hill, but the monument was closed. Stink. I couldn't do the traditional climb of Bunker Hill the day after the marathon. Another plan foiled by a little stinker! We then headed over to the USS Constitution and I had a great time there at the museum, but surprise, surprise...it was closed too. Terry took my picture in front of the USS Constitution with the flag at half mast. Oh, how I'll always remember that. 
Every where you went (wearing marathon stuff, of course!) you could strike up a conversation with anyone. "Did you get to finish?" was always the first question. You'd exchange stories of where you were, what went through your head, what this meant for the running world. You never had to explain your emotions. Everyone felt what you felt. It was a somber/sullen mood around the city, but supportive. It was like a HUGE group therapy session. I could shake an officer's hand and look him in the eye and say "Thank You!" and he didn't question why, he just looked back and would smile or nod knowing my heartfelt gratitude. Their presence was very large, every corner and major intersection. I felt safe. I felt supported and knew everyone had my back. We'd bonded together, this city and I. My heart, at least my running heart, still lingers there. After seeing old Ironsides we took off toward the North Church, the one Paul Revere made famous with the lanterns "one if by land, two if by sea." It is simply amazing to see SO much history in this city. To live it and feel it. To know that these are heroes you spent years studying about. They didn't back down. The world has never known truer patriots. It was neat to honor them on a day I needed a little courage myself.  A man we met on our way into the church said I wasn't walking like I'd just run a marathon. I said "I hope not, I've got another on Saturday!" The dismay in his face was priceless :) I know many people do it...and more, but this would be my first double. I was excited to get out and run again, despite the fatigue in my legs.  As we entered the church they were giving a speech about the church and its heritage and significance. The thing that caught my eye? A memorial to those involved in Monday's tragedy. 
It was touching. Again, I felt the support of the city behind me. I didn't have to explain anything. The jacket said it all. I was proud to be there. I was suffering along with the city. I was sorry that I had been there to run the marathon so that the perpetrators would have an event to destroy. I'm sorry I coveted the event so much that it could make such an impact. I'm sorry it was the spectators and not the runners that were hurt. They made the race for me! Those that were cheering for me just moments before and for just some ol' stranger named Rachel were suffering. My heart hurt, but the city and the people there understood. No explanation needed. I really felt at home and at peace there with the city that held my running heart! Next we continued along the freedom trail to the Holocaust memorial. When Lowell suggested this I first said no. I told him my heart was hurting enough and I didn't think it could take any more. But, he told me it would be one of the most amazing experiences. Well, as usual...he was right! Yes, it broke my heart more, but it gave me strength. Strength to resolve to live life. To LOVE life and to not be afraid in the face of darkness and terror. To speak out and to love those that I care about more deeply. To share what I have and to not take it for granted. As bleak as life seemed at the moment, it could've been worse. I had my friends and my family and we were all safe. What more could I have asked for? Here is one of my favorite quotes on the memorial, one you've heard before I'm sure, but it bears repeating. If you haven't been there in Boston, make a stop next time you're there.  Across from the Holocaust memorial was The Bells Inn. The oldest tavern in America. Had to get that photo op! Almost went in and bought someone a beer. Would've been the first alcoholic beverage I'd ever bought. Figured if I was going to do it, might as well be there :) 
From there we headed down to Faneuil Hall, the cradle of Liberty. Again, the historical significance is just overwhelming! Amazing to see and be apart of SO much history. 
After a short trip through some of the stores there, we caught a taxi back to the hotel. It was time for me to leave. Oh, it was hard to believe it was all over...already over. It had come and gone SO quickly, too quickly. I needed a couple more days. I needed my support group :) I did also want to get home and just hold my babies though. When you are hurting and confused it is hard to be without family! My running family was a wonderful stand in, but Smooth doesn't cuddle quite like my baby boy does :) At the airport I ran into a couple friends from SLC also taking the non-stop home. We grabbed lunch at Fudruckers, but I talked too much and so I stayed at the tables while they went back to the gate. Lucky for me my sister QP called and I got a nice long chat with her. I love to be the last person on the plane. You're sitting long enough, why sit an extra 30 minutes by boarding the plane early?!? Well, I talked a little too long. As I headed back to the gate saying my good-byes I heard them call my name as a last call for boarding! YIKES! Okay, okay, I'm on my way. I still had to wait in a line on the jetway and on the plane before I got to my seat. Someone had 'mis-read' A window seat for F window seat. I think it was the 8 year old in the middle seat that caused this lapse of ability to read and reason. But, I didn't mind, so I took the F and let the stubborn goat sit in A. I pick my window seats very carefully. I like to see my house when I fly home and I know where I need to sit to see it. But, the ride next to Miss Tessa made it all worth it! I recognized "Team Poppe" shirts from the sidelines at the marathon and I had a splendid time sitting next to Tessa. Coloring with her, talking her through choices, laughing with her. Made my flight! I did sleep a little and chat with her mom and dad too, but she was such a pleasant girl! Only catch was that I'd committed to reading "Life of Pi" on the vacation so that I could watch it with hubby soon. I was NOT happy when the preview for the feature film came on and it was "Life of Pi." Gave me an excuse to read and not watch the movie :) It was hard to keep my eyes off the screen, but I want the book to be read with MY pictures in my head...not the movie pictures. So, I just pushed my nose in my book and read. While on the flight I thought a lot about what had happened and how running life was going to be from here on out. I'd heard about multiple tributes for Boston...26 days of running, run 2.6 miles, exercise 26 minutes for 26 days....nothing spoke to me about really being a tribute to Boston. Then, it hit me. Like a ton of bricks. I was slated to pace 3:55 with Paul in SLC, but I knew it needed to be different. I knew I needed to pace 4:10 and be there at the finish line at that horrible 4:09:43 when the bomb went off. I wanted to show the world we weren't afraid. Runners would run again and spectators would cheer again and we weren't afraid of that time! We would do it for those who couldn't do it. We would do it to honor memories and to stand as a running community of one. We would be Boston Strong together. One of my first texts (after to hubby of course) on the ground was to Jonathan to have him switch us around as pacers. This had to happen. I texted Paul and got him on board...yup, this was going to happen! I was the last person off the plane and since sweet Miss Tessa had fallen asleep the last hour I really needed to pee! So, I stopped at the bathroom. My poor family and hubby were rather anxious to see me and I was just taking my sweet time. All the other Boston Jackets came and went and they were still waiting. It just made it that much sweeter, right? :) But, I have to say it was hard coming home. Looking at faces that didn't have that support in them. They looked at you with pity. You were there. Should they say anything? What should they say? Congrats? Sorry? Almost like you'd personally suffered a tragedy of losing a loved one and they just didn't know what to say to you. My support group of Boston citizens was gone, and it was palpable. Holding my little ones again was fantastic! I didn't want to let them go. Just to feel all wrapped up in that warm, unconditional, innocent love again was just what I needed. Having my mom and hubby there made all the difference in the world. I was loved. These people were all I needed to make it through. It was Tuesday night. I headed home with my family and fell asleep in a familiar place, in familiar arms. Home. Wednesday morning I took to the gym when I got up and saw friends and chatted too much about Boston. Talking about it was therapeutic! Especially with friends that understood. But, again my Boston support group was better. I didn't really have the vocabulary to express how I was feeling. I don't know if such a vocabulary exists. I didn't have to try to explain it in Boston, we all just felt it. I couldn't explain it here and it felt awkward trying to do so. After a few feeble attempts I decided I just didn't want to anymore. I would speak of the good, but leave the rest alone. I walked a lot...a few miles and it sure felt good. I don't know if it was the company or the walking, but my legs were getting ready to run again. When I got home I had an email from the SLC marathon. I'd made a comment on their post that 2 Boston Marathon finishers would be pacing Saturday and we'd love people to join us. I guess they'd been looking for runners from Boston to do stories on for the paper...of course I volunteered :) I also explained to the marathon people what I was trying to do with the finish time. They were SO supportive and simply said "oh yeah, this is going to happen. We'll make this happen." My tribute was coming alive. I could feel it growing in the hearts of others too. It wasn't just me. It was catching fire! A writer from Des News, Whitney Evans who I had worked with at Cottonwood Heights ages ago, came out to the house and did an interview with me. She overstayed her time and simply said "you're such a good story teller, I was just drawn in!" Yup, sleeping and talking/telling stories....my two best talents :) I had also given her Paul's info so that she could get his side. He says things much more eloquently than I do and with greater perspective. He needed a voice in this too. It was our tribute! Little did I know how much this would catch fire until the next day..... (Now I'm off for the weekend to Ragnar Trail and so you'll have to sit on pins and needles to see how the rest of the tribute turns out...or just pull up a few clips/stories/pictures...whatever :) )
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