Groovy Girls Go………..All Eyes on the Prize
The world’s eyes are on Boston. No matter if you’ve ever been there or not, after the 2013 Marathon, everyone knows Boylston Street.
I know it well. I’ve walked the street, I’ve ran the street, I’ve shed tears on that street, I’ve smiled and hugged on that street, and now I go back to that street…….in my own way I have unfinished business on that street and so I return having All Roads Leading to Boylston.
In High School we used Friday practice to run up to the bridge and back to the school. We would stretch and do a couple drills then we all made our way to the auditorium. This is where we would get as comfortable as we could in the only chairs with cush and one of the coaches would lead us through visualization.
I’m not sure why its taken me so many years to remember this weekly ritual?
During a crappy, snow packed, snow still falling, cold as all get out, Worst winter EvEr, run with a guy who was keeping me honest, the topic came up.
My eyes were opened.
Twenty years after High School I think I finally realize the power of MY mind to create MY reality. The power of my mind and its role in making my life what I want it to be and its role in the DrEaMs I’ve set for myself ~ getting out of my head and into my life.
I see it. I see myself laying on the grass, ear buds in, desperate to dance, watching the people, reliving the story that is my journey to Marathon day. I see myself leaving Athletes village, walking with the masses. Eager, but calm. This isn’t my first rodeo.
I see myself smiling and loving the roads that have allowed me to find my Tulley Toes on this road. I’m going to get into my right corral this year. I see myself hearing the Star Spangled Banner and the man on the podium speaking to the crowd. I see the volunteers who are reflecting the excitement of the crowd they support. I close my eyes and feel the day, just this moment, the work is about to begin and its a long shift, but I’ve done the do and in a moment we all go. Everyone getting into their own mind because at the end of the day, its only me who’ll get these toes from Hopkinton to Boylston…………….and go we will.
I see myself crossing each mat, kissing up to the sky, trying to remember which mile I’m on and to whom the intention belongs. The bikers to my left will really make me smile this year after my run with Matt and passing the Iron Maidens on that Wickedly Cold Tuesday South Side of Detroit. I know to take my ear buds off a mile out from the Welsley Girls because those sisters can scream.
There’s a lul in the crowd where the train usually passes by and the windows are filled with family and fans waving wildly.
There’s a guy with a chalkboard near the corner of a rikety bridge who writes and wipes and rewrites the score to the baseball game. There are kids and families galore with signs loving their people.
There’s a stretch of shops I always think to myself I should get back to.
There are kleenexes and oranges from kids and strangers that I LOVE!
Kids bounce on trampolines in yards that are set up to entertain not only the runners a bit but the kids entertaining the runners a bit.
I’ve seen my friends at the base of the Hills. They were jumping up and down, new baby in tow. I don’t rember what they said because it was time. Time to billy goat up these hills that fall along the way to the city – recover – and get one more up. It’s a crappy place to place a hill, but I’m told God doesn’t make mistakes so its part of the intended journey. There’ll be no heartbreak on heartbreak this year!
On a bend I’ve seen friends and Eric pushing their way through the crowd after they heard, Montana. I remember feeling a rush of happy flow through me. In a crowd like this I had been seen. Isn’t that what we all want? To have people in our life see us?
I’ve missed it most years, but there’s the Citco sign that lets us know we’re getting close. It’s time to find that final chase-the-fast-boys gear. Not too much to be too much, but just enough. The baracades come up at this point and the crowd wants nothing more that to lift you with their cheers. It’s close and this is where a lot of us are digging pretty damn deep. I’ve usually cried at least twice by this point.
I’ve had Eric and K-lo getting a pretzel on the final corner and look up just in time to catch me. Again, in the crowd, if we fall, isn’t that what we want, to be caught?
And then there’s the last tunnel, we go down and then up and out of the dark. One final climb. One final gear. There’s the left hand turn and 800 more yards of Boylston to eye it all.
All Roads Lead to these last Moments and its here that I do the opposite of what I’ve done all day. I stop. I don’t rush. I eye it good. I give myself a moment to just be……………………..because All Roads Have Lead to Boylston Baby!