Do Work: Boston Lore

The only other time I’d been to Boston was when I visited for five hours on a day trip with family. We stumbled upon a weed festival, I drank a cold Sam Adams while looking at the grave of Sam Adams, and I marveled at the city’s importance in American history.

In the last year, I’ve been fortunate to travel to both the other major American marathons, but this was my first time attending the most historic and elite of the trio. I can testify that the history, tradition, and enthusiasm for running is alive and well in the city. On Newbury Street, brands pop up, shake out, and show off their latest shoes and developments. A lot of my job is watching videos of people online, reading their reviews, and interacting with them as media outlets. It’s during these major marathon moments that all the folks I follow, email, and seed are located within a one-mile radius, and over 72 hours, I try to meet with them in person. If it sounds a bit overwhelming, it’s because it is.

However, I do love the social connection. It’s one of my favorite parts of the job. There’s definitely something to a real handshake, meeting a reporter’s family member who’s tagged along with them, and talking about races they’ve run and shoes they’ve liked. If it sounds like a lot of fun, it’s because it is.

Over four days at the On Labs Boston, I welcomed familiar faces and befriended new ones. I talked non-stop about Lightspray, Hellen Obiri, and the latest trends in running. People always want to talk to me about the Kings, a pain point currently. I met up for some group runs and some smaller ones. I saw Des Linden, Clayton Young, and Believe in the Run people getting miles along the beautiful Charles River. Seeing professionals running on the same path as you is inspiring, though they’re moving much faster—all of these moments built excitement for the race itself. When you’re running around at a race with responsibilities and people to see, you can sometimes forget why you’re actually there. But on Patriots’ Day, everyone in New England knew what the most crucial event was the 26.2 miles to come.

Our cheer section was near mile 25, and quite a few things surprised me about the race. 

• How happy people looked that late in the race.
• How fast my friends Gabe Loader and Eric Ghelfi ran (2:23 and 2:32, respectively!!!)
• How secure the area was with police presence and bag searches as you got closer to the course.
• How time flies when you’re tracking loved ones, influencers and pros. What starts as an early morning turns into a late afternoon before you know it.

Visiting a city for a major marathon is seeing it at its best. The streets are cleaned, restaurants are fully staffed, and the buzz in the area is palpable. I visited the hallowed grounds of Fenway Park for a Red Sox game, got a free tattoo the night of the Marathon, and everyone was talking about the Celtics going for another championship. Yes, Boston was on its best behavior, and I really should see it in the harsh winters that Massholes tout as character-building.

But as far as running cities go, Boston is up there with some of the best I’ve visited.

***

Whenever you’re in a new city for a running event, you find the nearest river and run around it. It’s just what you do. On this Boston trip, I couldn’t stop thinking about the words of Haruki Murakami as I ran around the on the Charles River.

“When I saw the Charles River again, a desire to run swept over me. Generally, unless some great change takes place, rivers always look about the same, and the Charles River in particular looked totally unchanged. Time had passed, students had come and gone, I’d aged ten years, and there’d literally been a lot of water under the bridge. But the river has remained unaltered. The water still flows swiftly, and silently, toward Boston Harbor. The water soaks the shoreline, making the summer grasses grow thick, which help feed the waterfowl, and it flows languidly, ceaselessly, under the old bridges, reflecting clouds in summer and bobbing with floes in winter—and silently heads toward the ocean.”