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| Vicky King |
It just so happened I ran well enough to BQ (I needed to do it under 4:10:00 and my time was 4:04:24). A dream I’d never even had suddenly blossomed and I found myself strongly desiring to go to Boston and run the marathon! As a bonus, I also took first in my age group. What a wonderful and unbelievable surprise!
Getting the funds to travel and register for the 117th Boston Marathon was a huge obstacle, but as I prayed about it, I kept sensing this was something I should do. About a month after the Modesto marathon, I received a phone call from a race representative informing me I had won the drawing for $1000 to use toward Boston expenses. This confirmed my thoughts and so when September came around, I registered and was accepted! How exciting! I was going to run the Boston Marathon on April 15, 2013, something I had never even contemplated. Now my mind was flabbergasted at what lay before me. Getting this wonderful opportunity to travel back to our great country’s origins and participate in such an iconic event sent my spirit soaring high, and I was eager to start my training!
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| Anticipation at the finish line |
My sister from Washington State surprised me when she showed up at my hotel room Sunday morning. None of us had ever been to the New England coast, so we were very excited to take it all in. My family and I decided to make the most of our visit and enjoy all the wonderful richly historical culture in Boston; no pre-race resting for me. Wherever we went, people greeted us and asked if we were there to run the marathon. They were very happy we had come. Some would even share their stories of running or watching the marathon in previous years. This surprised me because I have never been to a place where so many people welcomed and embraced the runners so enthusiastically. There was an instant bonding and feeling of community and family.
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| Blessing of the athletes |
There was one point as I was coming up on mile 8, I could see the marker, where all of a sudden I had a really bad, ominous feeling hit me, enveloping me in a strong sense of fear! Because of my faith, I guessed I was experiencing a personal spiritual attack because I had been thanking, praising and giving glory to God for enabling me to continue to run the marathon in spite of my injury. So I rebuked the enemy (Satan to me) and told him he had no power over me; I would not let him cause me to be afraid or stop me from running that race. I prayed out loud, “Greater is He that is in me (God’s Holy Spirit) than he that is in the world!” and “God has not given me a spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind.” Immediately a scripture verse came to me I didn’t recall ever hearing or reading. It was Proverbs 18:10, “The name of the Lord is a strong tower. The Godly run to it and are safe.” I remember thinking, well that’s a strange verse but it does have running and God’s strength in it… Okay; so I prayed it out loud and the bad feeling left and I never had another negative thought or concern or fear about anything else until…
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| At Mile 25 point something |
I was jerked back into reality as a woman started yelling she was going to run across that finish line and I was thinking, “Do you see the officer’s face? I don’t think you want to go down there!” Another woman started panicking about her family being down at the finish line and even though I had no clue what was going on or why we were being turned back, I knew it was serious and we needed to comply with the officer’s orders! I wrapped my arm around the shoulders of the lady who was concerned about her family and tried to console her as we walked back down Hereford. Suddenly I felt the need to pray and I threw my arms in the air and shouted, “Father, God, You are above all; You are greater and more powerful than anyone or anything else, You are greater than whatever is going on down Boylston Street, and I ask for Your help right now in Jesus name. Jesus, we need You! Jesus! Jesus! Jesus help us! Amen!” And it was like I felt the protective presence of the Spirit of God come down over us.
Then I realized I had turned left onto Newbury Street and it was chaotic and people were coming out of cafes and businesses saying they heard explosions and some thought it was an exploded gas line in a restaurant. I was standing against a brick wall to get warm when a woman walked toward me. She was holding a cup of coins so I thought she might be a panhandler. She approached and asked if I was okay and we talked a bit about things going on when she noticed I was shivering; so she took off a hoodie she was wearing and told me to put it on. She had another one on underneath, so I accepted her kind offer. I asked her name; it was Cassie. She needed to leave so I started to give her jacket back, but she told me to keep it. The temp was in the 40s and I was afraid she would be cold, but she told me God would take care of her like He always has and He would take care of me, too. I was very grateful for the warmth. Cassie was one of many angels sent to me that day.
Next was Paola, who was from Argentina and was visiting her sister who attended Harvard. Paola was out shopping alone prior to the explosions, so she asked if she could stand with me. She actually became my human crutch to help me walk because after standing still for a while, my injured leg would not work. Paola was another angel. It was about 45 minutes later as she and I were standing at the corner of Mass Ave and Newbury when we found out about the bombs and I was reminded of my experience around mile 8.
All of a sudden tons of emergency vehicles drove by us with sirens blaring and I realized how bad the situation must be. That was the first moment I broke down and feared I might have lost my family who were waiting for me by the finish line. I prayed and told the Lord I needed them to be okay because I couldn’t go on without them, and that my husband needed to meet his granddaughter who was about to be born. That later felt like such a selfish prayer, but it was the cry of my heart right then. It was then I also realized had I not stopped to hug my sister during mile 25, I would have been further down Boylston and in the middle of this unbelievably horrific incident. I was humbled and deeply grateful at the same time, but still afraid for my family and others down Boylston.
I still did not know any details except bombs had been detonated. We stood there trying to determine what to do, and I thought about taking the T – Green line back to my hotel in Newton, just as the transportation police drove up and closed off the T station on Mass Ave. I had been trying to call my husband on other people’s cell phones because I did not carry mine with me during the race, but I had no luck getting through to him. People said they’d keep trying and if they got through what message should they give? I told them to tell him I would be at the corner of Newbury and Mass Ave. So Paola and I just stood there waiting. Paola did not have cell phone service but she sent an email to her sister at Harvard asking her to get a message to my daughter in California (the only phone # I could remember other than my husband’s, and he didn’t have a smart phone) and let her know I was okay and my whereabouts. We never received a response from Paola’s sister so we had no idea if she got the email or not.
It seemed as though no one was moving anywhere. I kept looking for my husband’s Disney Goofy hat he said he’d be wearing, but I never saw it. It finally looked like runners were moving north on Commonwealth, so I decided to walk down there and join them. The National Guard informed us runners were being redirected to a new family meeting area at Boston Commons where our families were waiting for us, so I headed in that direction with my newfound companion and wonderful crutch Paola. As we walked, people came out of their homes offering us clothes, snacks and water (more angels) and then we came upon a couple who was offering use of their cell phones. I told them my call would be long distance and they replied with a smile, “Most of them are – no problem!” So I tried calling my husband again but no connection: it would always just ring and ring and ring, and then disconnect. So then I tried calling my daughter in California and she answered. After an emotional cry, she told me she had received a call from a woman saying I was with her sister and we were okay, so my daughter had relayed that information to my husband and son and sister so they were aware I was okay, but they were prevented from getting to me due to the blocked areas. I was so relieved to hear they were alive and waiting at the family meeting area for me. This communication occurred about two hours after the explosions. Hope was restored!
Paola was also able to call her sister, who was coming to pick her up back at Mass Ave and Newbury, so I told Paola to head back, that I’d be fine walking on my own. I continued hobbling up Commonwealth. A race volunteer handed out Mylar blankets and told us to go to the buses and pick up our gear check bags before moving on to Boston Commons. There were a ton of buses (27,000 runners) and I finally found the one with my bib # and was waiting for the volunteer to find my bag when I heard someone yell behind me, “People, move off this street NOW! Move to the left and move NOW! I am serious – Move now, people!!!”
I started to head out when the volunteer literally dropped my bag out of the window into my arms. I made it to the Public Gardens, but I didn’t see any area that looked like a family meeting area nor did I see any runners going a certain direction. So I just stood on the sidewalk feeling so lost and confused. A group of college young men (more angels) approached and asked if I was okay and could they help me. They were unaware of any meeting area but one of them asked if I wanted to use his phone. So I tried again to call my husband and this time he answered. He said they were still at the original family meeting area, but when I told him where I was, he knew the spot because we had visited it a few days prior to the race. He told me to stay put and they’d be right there. To see my husband, son, and sister come running into that park was the most awesome sight ever! The HUGE hugs spoke a lot louder than any words ever could. They were surprised to see me with a hoodie because my husband had some post-race warm clothes for me. I put those clothes on and gave the Mylar blanket and hoodie to other runners standing close by who had nothing but their race clothes on. Cassie would be proud to know her hoodie helped more than one person that day! I had also had some hand warmers in my gear bag so I gave those out to waiting cold, runners.
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| Reunited with my family: Boston Public Gardens |
As my family and I exchanged stories, they asked how far I had run and I told them to the corner of Hereford and Boylston, and that my Garmin said I had run 26.06 miles. According to the race course I still had .4 mile to go, but as far as I was concerned, I had finished the race set before me; I had run as far as I was allowed and that was good enough for me. It wasn’t until later feelings of “unfinished business” haunted me. We were at the airport the next day when someone said the BAA might invite those of us who didn’t get to finish to return in 2014 to run again. I was asked if I would come back and run it, and my husband and I both responded, “In a heartbeat!”
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Vicky King
Salida, California
For more personal accounts of the 2013 Boston marathon, click here.
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