Our Boston.

School was out early on Friday, at least for our kiddos.  I picked them up early so that we could start our trip north when Jeff was finished with teaching for the day.  Our goal was to be on the road by 2:00 pm, so that we could get into Gettysburg, PA (the first stop on our list) at a decent hour.  I think it was about 2:20 when we got on the freeway, so we were pretty close to our goal.

We arrived at the Civil War battle ground at dusk with fog and mist, and it was hauntingly beautiful.  

The following morning was chilly, but beautiful.  We stopped at the national cemetery before continuing on our journey and read the words of Abraham Lincoln's address: 

 "...we can not dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow this ground.  The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.It is for us the living, rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced.  It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us--that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion--that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain--that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom--and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth."

We saw the many markers of soldiers who had died fighting for our freedom, and I felt the somberness of the morning. 

I (Jeff here) had just finished reading two different books about Abraham Lincoln (Killing Lincoln, a short book about the assasination of our president and A. Lincoln,  a more complete work about his entire life).  From these books and visiting this hallowed landmark I feel that there wasn't a greater President that our country has had.  I will never be able to walk past a penny sitting on the ground again and not pick it up.

***

Western Pennsylvania is simply gorgeous.  Rolling hills, and wide open farm land.  Grace noticed the open spaces and said, "Oh, what a beautiful open field" and they were truly enchanting. 

Both Kathleen and I noted that this would be a perfect place to go for a long bike ride.  You seemed to see forever.  It was beautiful.

***

Then we got a little bit closer to New York City than we meant to (this was my fault).  The upside:  we were able to see the skyline.  The downside:  we dealt with tricky traffic, and decided that the navigation system on our phone was faulty. . . We ended up crossing the George Washington Bridge ($13 to go East), getting confusing instructions, taking the wrong exit, going over the George Washington Bridge (Free to go West), and then having to turn back around and take the same bridge going East AGAIN (yup, it was $13 to cross again).  We did get some helpful advice from the woman who took the toll, and made sure to follow it as we, quite frustrated, continued on our way ("Where are you trying to go to?" "Boston."  "And why are you trying to take that crazy route?  Just get on 95 and stay there").  

***

Every time we crossed into a new state (something that happened pretty quickly throughout the day) we could mentally check that one off my list of states we'd been in (One day Delaware,one day).

***

The rest of the trip to Boston went smoothly, and it was great to meet up with Bestefar at the hotel in.  

***

Sunday, we went into Boston to get Jeff's packet, number, and a race jacket.  THIS race has been something that Jeff has been working towards for several years.  He qualified in Richmond, but not quite fast enough to get to run Boston.  So, he chose a more rigorous training schedule, and qualified in Highpoint and was able to register, even though the qualifying times became more difficult.  He. worked. harder!  

The woman handing him his packet let him know that it was pretty impressive that he was in the first wave, and he got that look on his face, the one that means that he is flattered and impressed, but doesn't want to let on.  Love it. I could just see the magic and anticipation on his face and in his eyes. . . he was really doing this!  He made sure his shirt was the right fit, and then tried on THE jacket:  the one with the Boston Marathon logo on it.  Perfect. 

We figured our way out of the crowd, and wanted to see as much of the city as we could in our one site seeing day.  My brother, who served an LDS mission in Boston, suggested we see the Freedom trail, Bunker Hill, and maybe look for Mother Goose's grave. A friend who lived in Boston before moving here gave similar suggestions, so we figured we were in good hands.  

The monument on Bunker Hill has 294 steps the wind around inside it, not unlike a lighthouse.  We picked up our free tickets, and made our way up.  Beautiful view, and very nice people making sure we realized it would be a decent trek  and to take our time.  The way down had me feeling a bit of vertigo, but we all made it just fine, and decided to drive around a bit more to see:  USS Constitution, the Boston Massacre location, Paul Revere's house.  

We joined Melinda, Taylor, Jackson, Abby, and Bestemor for Sacrament Meeting.  Jeff's sister and her family live in Boston, and Bestemor and Bestefar wanted to be at this marathon to see Jeff run so it was great to meet up, see a great city, and spend time with family. 

Jeff and I took our kiddos and tried to see a few more things:  Paul Revere's grave, John Hancock's grave, Mother Goose's Grave (when my little sister Rebecca was little, she loved the Mother Goose stories, and we all watched the videos over and over so that she was happy . . . I can still quote them all if you ever would like to know one, and remember the songs, too. . . love you Rebecca!).  

Did you know she was a real person?  I don't think I did . . .  makes sense though.

We also drove by the waterfront, saw where the Boston Tea Party took place (more or less) and happened to cross paths with the "Cheers" bar.  

We noticed the Cheers when we were right next to it, so the picture is after we passed.  On the left there. 

We were being true tourists, but you know what, I didn't feel like Boston minded at all. (As we drove around, I found myself wishing we didn't have a car, or that Kathleen and I could just go exploring together.  It was such an easily walk-able city...)

***

Melinda and Bestemor made a delicious pasta dinner to help Jeffery carb-load, and we enjoyed a nice evening together. We decided that we would NOT try and see Jeff at the finish line.  The crowds would be too thick for good viewing, and harder to get out of when it was time to leave.  The plan: find one good spot, and then walk to the finish to meet up with Jeff after he was done.  Our spot:  somewhere after mile 24.

***

I don't think Jeff slept a whole lot, but we made sure he was at the starting line before the roads closed on us at 7:30 am.  This left him to hang out in the Athlete's village until 10:00 am or so, when his wave began, and gave us time to get checked out of the hotel before heading into the city.  (I was amazed at the sheer number of athletes there.  The lawn was packed, every square inch of space was taken.  People laying down, wrapped in blankets and tarps, listening to music, having pictures taken.  It was a little daunting to see that many people all in one spot).

***

By 11:15 am, we were all sitting along the route, just in time to see the Elite runners racing past.  

They were a.ma.zing!  Seriously!  I kept tearing up, {the amount of work that goes into that kind of speed and distance!} and felt like it was going to be a very long morning if I had to try and hide my tears every time a runner came by, because there were going to be a LOT of runners, but thankfully as the bulk of the runners came by, my emotions calmed down a bit.  Immediately, the children wanted to see Jeff.  

We just had to explain that he would be a little ways back, probably not for a while. (I left the starting gate somewhere between 10 and 10:20 am.  I was next to a few Brazilian runners, so we had the opportunity to talk for a little bit.  I had prepped to have my phone play music for me, but by mile 7 or so it stopped working.  I decided to not try to wrestle with it, and just took out the headphones.  The first thing that I heard was the thunderous sound of thousands of feet hitting the pavement in rapid succession. It kind of shocked me.  All of the people cheering for the runners was really amazing to hear as well. There were some really cool parts of the race.  Seeing all of the military individuals hiking with full packs was quite touching.  I saw the missionaries cheering at one point and I ran over and gave them all high fives.  There was also all the young ladies of Wesleyan College calling for kisses.  I did NOT oblige.)

***

Kara, our dear friend, started texting me letting me know where he was, and that she was proud of him.  I hadn't even thought about the fact we could be tracking him!?!  She did though, and would update me from time to time. After 1:10 pm, I knew it could be any time, and really started to watch the faces.  Bestemor kept saying I should let them know as soon as I saw him. Sure enough, he came up the hill, looking like he was hurting a bit, but visibly lifted by our cheers and smiles.

(I had been looking for them for a while. I really needed to see my family cheering for me, and every turn I scanned the crowd to try to find them.  While I appreciated all the calls for "Duke", I wanted to see my Wife, my Children, my Sister and my Parents.  It had been a pretty difficult run. Around mile 9 my ACL repaired knee started pulling funny.  I joke sometimes that since I didn't start running until after my heart and knee surgeries that I always run with pain.  This was really bothering more than usual. Probably due to my attempt to compensate for the knee pain I started to have pain in my right quad as well, and ultimately my back.  In the end, I tried to sprint the last mile or so, something that I have always been able to do, but as soon as I tried my hamstring pulled and I just had to keep my same pace into the finish line. Seeing my family at 24 miles was wonderful for me.  It was great to see their faces.) 

As soon as he passed, I just really wanted to get to the finish line and bring him back.  We took a few pictures, and Bestemor and Taylor were designated to take the kiddos (including Olivia, who originally I was going to carry with me) back to the apartment.  Melinda, Bestefar and I left to find Jeff, and the others made their way back to the apartment.  

We walked along the race route, feeling the energy of the crowd and the runners so close to the finish line.  Jeff finished just after 1:30 pm (3 hours and 31 minutes or so for his race) not his fastest, but not his slowest either (As I finished the race they walked us through to get our medals, get a space blanket and get some food and water into us.  I talked with my new Brazilian friends again and congratulated them.  I was having a hard time walking at this point.  They moved us to a waiting area, and as I got to the area, my legs all cramped up and I couldn't walk another step.  This happened right in front of some medical reps, they had me eat a banana.).  As we got closer and closer to Boylston street, the crowd got incredibly thick.  When we finally made it to Boylston, we were going to continue along the race route, but decided it was just too thick, and to  detour around buildings, hoping to get around the crowds. 

Jeff let me know he was sitting under the letter T after the finish line (They had us wait for our families in alphabetical designated areas where runners and family could mingle.  This was the first place that family could meet their athletes. Those who didn't run the race were not allowed in the athletes area, and I saw a few people who were trying to get in and were turned away by volunteers.) , waiting for us to find him.  We made it to him at 3:30 pm, and he looked exhausted, and sore, but it was so good to see him, and know that he had accomplished his goal!  He had run the Boston Marathon!  After helping him back to his feet, we began our much-slower-than-before walking back toward the race route to figure out where we could meet up with Taylor to get back to the apartment.  (I was so cold.  Even with the space blanket I was shivering like crazy.  Dad offered me his jacket and I gladly accepted it.) Again, we tried to bypass the thick crowds wherever possible. 

We were coming up Dalton Avenue, almost to Boylston (0.3 miles from were the first bomb exploded), when we saw and smelled smoke, saw people running, and had emergency personnel jumping into vehicles and turning on sirens.  One person said, "Didn't you hear the pops?" We were wondering what was going on.  I said, "I bet Kara knows what's going on," and looked at my phone to see that my Dad had tried to call me.  I called him back and he was making sure we were all right, and let me know that there were two bombs that had gone off.  Or "explosions" as they were being termed then.  My brother called through next, followed by many texts. We knew family and friends would worry, so posted our safety as soon as possible.  

All this time, we continued to move away from the finish line, close to the racers, in hopes of meeting up with Taylor, while much of the crowd and runners had no idea anything had happened.  They were focused on finishing 26.2 miles, almost there . . . 

After a few wrong turns, we met up with Taylor (at Fenway Park) (very relieved to finally meet up!), and back to the apartment to see everyone safe and well.  We felt the need to make our way home, it was time.  

We started saying our goodbyes, and went to get on the elevator to head to the van:  All six of us in our family, and Bestefar in one elevator (and the green suitcase), Melinda telling us she'd meet us in a minute.  We got on, doors closed, pushed the button, and then waited . . . and waited for the door to open . . . but it didn't.  The 3 foot by 4 foot elevator was stuck, and wouldn't let us out.  Melinda let us know we were on the first floor, and no longer on the 5th floor, so that was a bit comforting, but it was still a very tight, enclosed space and we just wanted to get home.  Benjamin was not enjoying the tight space, and poor Goosey had a racing heart, and was close to passing out.  But, really, it was a very unique experience.  We called the emergency button, and had someone talking to us right away.  They said they would have someone over as soon as they could.  Then called back to let us know that help was stuck in the traffic from the events of the day. 

 Jeff got the kids playing, "I'm going to the moon, and I'm taking with me . . . " we sang some songs, Olivia had a good stinky diaper, some water was spilled and cleaned up, and just as we were on the last verse of "Love is Spoken Here" the doors opened and we were free!!!!  Spent an hour in the elevator, but at least our little family was all together.  

When we got out on the road, the traffic was gone. When paying one of the tolls, the woman noticed Jeff's jacket and said, "Nice jacket sweety" and we continued on for three hours before feeling the need to stop and sleep.  Every time we stopped, we ran into marathoners on their way home (we ran into a family who were supposed to fly to Pittsburgh and since all the flights were cancelled decided to drive home.  Just outside of Richmond we met another woman who also had run the race.  With each person we met it was like talking to family, "Where were you when it happened?"  "Did you get to finish?"  "Was everything ok?").  

Yesterday as we were driving the last 11 hours or so home, Jeff started to look at some of the news and images that were captured during the cowardly actions that happened Monday.  He looked visibly shaken.  I was focused on driving, and getting us home.  I just wanted to be home.  On the radio came the song, "Home" by Phillip Phillips:

"Hold on, to me as we go

As we roll down this unfamiliar road

And although this wave is stringing us along

Just know you're not alone

Cause I'm going to make this place your home.

Settle down, it'll all be clear

Don't pay no mind to the demons 

They fill you with fear

The trouble it might drag you down

If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you're not alone

Cause I"m going to make this place your home"

Again, I felt a bit emotional.  We bypassed all large metro areas, and took in upstate New York, much of rolling Pennsylvania, and the Shenandoah valley.  Beautiful country.  Passing by George Washington's childhood home as well.  

Last night, after beginning the trip-clean-up-process, I took some time to look at the media coverage.  We had listened to accounts on the way home off and on, but I had not SEEN anything yet.  So terrible, senseless, and awful.  All against highly motivated, and active people. . . 

I am grateful that my family is home, together, safe and sound.  I feel horrible for those whose lives have been forever altered because of someone's hateful, cowardly act. This morning, I went for a run, and again felt emotion at my door.  My breath didn't come as easily as normal, but I ran.  Because I can still run, for others might not. . .  (I feel the same way.  I was disappointed in my run.  I felt I could have done better.  Those feelings all evaporated 40 minutes after my run.  We were safe, we were not close when the bombs went off.  Our children were not on the street, they were safe in my sister apartment. I may not have run my best race, but I will be able to run tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that. All of the little things of that day, slower running time, not able to get home quickly, stuck in the elevator and unable to drive as far as we wanted to seem petty now.)