Flashback to Boston

Medal Monday.

In October 2021, I ran the Boston Marathon for the first time. Three months later, Jeff was diagnosed with a recurrence of testicular cancer. I believe that my marathon training and crossing the finish line was preparing me for the challenges my family and I would face next.

I'm grateful to be a marathoner, as it equipped me with the endurance I would need to care for my family during this difficult time.

Today I reflect on this race and all my family and I have endured these last two years. I’m confident that whatever lies ahead we will be okay. God is with us.

This story is a piece from Staring Down a Dream: A Mom, a Marathoner, a Mission: as we celebrate the 128th Boston Marathon today!

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I turned onto Boylston Street. I ran head-on into a wall of cheers, shouts, people jumping up and down, signs, and the ringing of cowbells. The hair on my arms standing on end. I kept my eyes ahead. I saw the finish line in the distance. I was overcome with joy. I whispered through misty eyes, I made it. I’m going to cross the finish.

I pushed through the burning and fatigue in my muscles as I kept my eyes on the finish line now blurry from my tears. I was almost there. I glanced over to the right every couple of strides in hopes of seeing my family standing there. The sound of my breathing was muffled by the cowbells ringing, the announcer over the loudspeaker, and the tremendous cheers from both sides of the street.

WOW! The feeling of awe consumed me with goosebumps to prove it. I felt this warm fuzzy sensation all over my body. What was this? This was joy, happiness, and accomplishment. This was how it showed up for me and I was noticing it. I was grateful. What a wonderful feeling as I coasted closer to the finish line.

I scanned the crowd and still didn't see anyone. I brought my attention back to the finish line and saw a runner 100 feet ahead collapse. Oh my gosh, I need to help him. But then I hear “JULIE! JULIE!” My eyes darted to the right to find Jeff shouting my name and waving. I noticed three other runners carrying the runner who fell to the finish. My mom, children, Aunt Colleen, and Uncle Tim were all there with Jeff cheering for me. I found them. My grin was as wide as the street as I gave them a wave. My children’s faces lit up as they jumped up and down with their signs.

They were hanging over the guardrails shouting “GO, MAMA!” A surge of energy from the sound of their voices took over my legs as I picked up the pace. My arms were raised in celebration as I crossed the thick yellow paint on the road with the blue letters reading “FINISHER.” I had raced and finished the 125th Boston Marathon.

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Have a marvelous Monday!

Thank you for being here with me,

Julie

P.S. You’re invited to our Virtual Book Launch! Click here for the details and to register.