Boston Marathon weekend, part 2 (Saturday)

Today I put on a surprising amount of mileage with all the walking that I was doing, getting between the different events i was planning on, given the back-and-forth from the expo (for panel discussions) to the Finish Line area.

I started out with the free breakfast at my hotel (because, hey, who can pass up the smell of those waffles?) despite the fact that I was going to be meeting up with a few people for an early (10am) brunch. Sure, 2nd breakfast that will merge right in with elevensies. :-) 

What did the heads think?

I was behind schedule for some of what I wanted to do -- see the 5k -- but not really. By the time I arrived, the men's race had just finished, but I had enough time to make it up to the north side of the finish line area to see the women finish.

Shortly thereafter, right as I was about to walk down Boylston to get to the mythical corner with Hereford (IYKYK), I bumped into a certain someone, who was gracious enough to take our selfie on my phone.

Deena Kastor is a very sweet lady, co-host of the Marathon Talk podcast, former professional marathoner (and held the American women's world record for years). We chatted for a minute or two (and I managed to slip in about my costumed record attempt for the marathon), before we went our separate ways.

On the way, I had to make a very quick stop to take my usual photo with Spike. Given how horrible I am with selfies, and there was no way I was getting both me and all of Spike in the photo, I easily decided against the selfie.

Finally, I made it down the several blocks to the corner to watch the masses continue in the 5k. I had no idea that it was as huge a field as it was, that it was still going over an hour after I had arrived at the corner. Cheering on the mass of runners, as always, is a fun time -- seeing different outfits, different reactions to making that final turn, the emotions ranging from relief to exhilaration as the participants see the finish line about .25 miles away. I had my eye out for a friend who I thought, but wasn't sure, was running -- the infamous Robert Wang. Somehow, I didn't manage it. (Sure, it's a sea of humanity. But he's rather noticeable when you know what to look for -- both by outfit and likely GoPro on a stick.) Nope, I never saw him. Oh well.

However, the thing that infuriated a few of us who were standing at that corner cheering was this one guy -- ostensibly a volunteer, though a few of us had our doubts about his legitimacy -- who decided he just HAD to get across to the other side. For anyone who has ever seen that corner, going from the INSIDE corner of that left-hand turn (where the mass of people are tightest) to the other side of Hereford just in front of the firehouse is nearly impossible to manage while the overwhelming masses of runners are still coming through. But this putz decided he just HAD to get to the other side and flaunted his supposed credentials to the other volunteer officially stationed there to prevent random people from doing exactly this. While it took him a couple of minutes of standing around looking for a possible hole (which never TRULY materialized), he did finally force his way through -- mercifully not causing anyone injury in the process. (Meanwhile, he could have done it much easier, safer, and quicker, had he gone on the other side of the fencing where I was standing and flowed WITH the runners taking the inside track by the photographer stationed at a car parked on the course, and could have gotten to the front of that car, and then darted across a much less congested area to the other side of Boylston. Sure, it would have added about 10-20 meters onto his travel. When you're a spectator at a race (I don't care what the distance is), do NOT be "that guy." Think about the people on course and the possibility that you might injure them (and, heck, yourself) in the process, and figure out a better, safer way to accomplish your objective.

There was a bit of time between when I left my cheering spot and the meet-up brunch, so I decided to meander a bit more on Newbury, try to find some of the pop-up stores I was planning on going into later. 

Even at that hour and with so many people running in the 5k, it was pretty busy on this cross street. I wound up going much further east on the street than intended (essentially just past where the finish line is), and noticed it was basically time to head off to Thornton's for the brunch. Wouldn't you know, after about two blocks of walking, I noticed Robert crossing the road, on the way to the brunch.En route, we wound up passing by the Copley Fairmont, and I noticed the doghouse, specifically because there was a Finish Line in front of it. (Alas, no dog inside.) 

We finally arrived, and met up with a few women who were also attending. Very quickly, we got seated. As usual, fun conversation, chatting about the weekend, our plans for race day, other races we've run, etc. It was a good group, though seated at a table that was barely large enough for the five of us, since it was really a table for four.

Especially when a few of us had orders that they wind up bringing out on two large plates. (The above photo was taken after many of the plates were already cleared.)

Mmm... so tasty. Huge portion, and a really good price. Alex's Crazy Two is definitely the way to go for breakfast, IMO.

Brunch went a little long, so I missed the early part of the BAA Invitational Mile. While cutting through the Prudential Center to get back to the Finish Line, I decided to try my luck at some BoA Plinko. Why not - pretty short line, and there are a couple of cute prizes up for grabs.

Wouldn't you know it, I actually managed to get the better of the two prizes. Though I didn't have anything that I could carry it in, having not brought a bag with me.

By the time I got to the Finish Line area, the men's field was kicking off. Perfect timing, if not quite ideal positioning. 

The video I took was them at the back end of the last lap.

Next up, I repositioned to the side (approximately where I met Deena Kastor earlier) to have a potentially better angle for the women's mile.

Clearly, based on conversation I was overhearing, I happened upon a spot where a few of the ladies cheering on the runners actually personally knew at least two or three of the women who were running. And they were thrilled at the finish.

The Invitational Mile series of races having concluded, I made my way back to the expo for some additional panels. I was early enough, I wound up catching part of the panel related to motherhood and marathoning, before the panel on accessibility - focused on spectators - kicked off.

It's definitely an interesting conversation that isn't had all that much, I think.  Tom Smith (who started his own charity) and Jake Thibeault (in the wheelchair) discussed how certain modifications to the surrounding area -- which don't impact the race itself -- better enable people in wheelchairs to be able to view and cheer on the runners (whether friends/family or strangers), and that BAA had started making those changes. Ethan Michaud (from the Flutie Foundation) and Laura Amico (whose child benefited from the changes) discussed what could be done for the autistic, especially those who have sensory issues and, generally speaking, would need to avoid something as overwhelming on the senses as the Boston Marathon. Somehow, BAA created a "quiet zone" around Mile 13 where people could enjoy the race but not have to deal with the very loud crowds. (And this is right near the Scream Tunnel, too, ironically enough.) I didn't wind up noticing the zone while running, but hopefully it all worked out well.

Next up, it was back, yet again, to the Finish Line area.

Having arrived a drop early for the appearances by the pros that were going to happen, I took some obligatory photos of the various logos, etc., that adorned the finish line area.

They brought out the U.S. marathon Olympians from this past summer, prior to the panel that was going to be held - you guessed it - back in the expo.

This was followed up by a panel of last year's Boston Marathon champions.

I was getting tired from all the back and forth, and hungry (having not had another meal after the early brunch), so I wound up getting a scrumptious dinner at Legal Sea Foods, seated outdoors on a truly lovely late afternoon.

                                     

I decided to take a quick detour on my way back home, since the T stop for Mike's Pastry is shortly before the T stop for Assembly. So, why not.

And as I was getting my bearings, I noticed the there was a Holocaust Memorial only a couple of blocks away. So, I took the opportunity to go by that before getting my pastries.

When you look up close, you actually see that there are numbers written on the outer walls of this memorial. All of the serial/inmate numbers that were tattooed on the victims.

Given the lighting, it was very difficult to read the text written on the inner walls. Here's what they say (when magnified enough to read.)

"I was chosen to work as a barber / outside the gas chamber. / The Nazis needed the women's hair / They told us / make those women think that / they are just getting a haircut. // We already knew it was the last place / they went in alive."

"In one transport, people refused / to be taken to the gas chambers. / They destroyed everything in sight and / broke the crates filled with gold / taken from the prisoners. // They grabbed sticks and anything / they could get their hands on to fight. // But the guards' bullets cut them down. / When morning came / the yard was still full of the dead."

"I was assigned to work outside digging ditches. / We dug in the freezing cold and rain, / wearing only the thin, / striped dresses issued to us. / The ditches weren't to be used / for any particular purposes. // The Nazis were merely trying to work / us to death. And many did die / of sickness, / cold, exhaustion, / and starvation."

"Ilse, a childhood friend of mine, / once found a raspberry in the camp / and carried it in her pocket all day / to present to me that night on a leaf. // Imagine a world in which / your entire possession is / one raspberry and / you give it to your friend."

"My younger sister went up to a / Nazi soldier with one of her friends. / Standing naked, / embracing each other, / she asked to be spared. / He looked into her eyes and / shot the two of them. // They fell together in their embrace / my sister and her young friend.,"

"From our barracks we could see / the gas chambers. / a heart-rending cry of women and / children reached us there. / We were overcome / by a feeling of helplessness. / There we were, watching and / unable to do anything. // We had already worked out / a plan of escape. / But at that moment I decided / we must not simply escape. / We must destroy the fascists / and the camp."

"Some Catholics, including Father Arnyot, / invited me to join them in prayer. / Seven or eight of us gathered, / secretly of course, / in the shed used as a lavatory. // In prayer we laid before God / our suffering, / our rags, our filth, our fatigue, / our exposure, our hunger / and our misery.'

"When my parents were sent off to the camp, / I gave my good shoes to my fateher / because I thought he's need them / if he did physical labor. / When I saw my mother for the last time, I hugged her and said I hoped / she didn't have to work too hard. // I never dreamed they'd be dead within such / a short time of them departing."

"Nothing belongs to us anymore. / They have taken away our clothes, / our shoes, even our hair. / If we speak, they will not listen to us. / And it they listen, they will not understand. / They have even taken away our names. // My number is 174517. I will carry the tattoo / on my left arm until I die. "

"Transport arrived every day, / mainly from Poland, but also from / other European countries - / Germany, Austria, / Czechoslovakia, and others. / In one transport there was / a Ukrainian woman. / She possessed documents / that proved she was a genuine Aryan, / and yet she went to the gas chamber. // Once you crossed the gate to the camp / there was no chance / to get out of there alive."

"I remember stooping down and picking up / a piece of something black near the / crematorium. I realized it was a bone. / I was going to throw it down again / and I thought / my God, this may be all that's left of someone. // So I wrapped it up and carried it with me. / A couple of days later I hid it in / my pocket and buried it."

"At first the bodies weren't burned, they were buried. In January 1944, we were forced to dig up the bodies so they could be burned. // When the last mass grave was opened / I recognized my whole family / my mother, my sisters, and their kids. / They were all in there."

These grates were on the floors between the respective glass walls that had the inscriptions. Not visible in this photo is the steam that was emanating from the grates, reminiscent of the smoke that must have come from the gas chambers or crematoria.

After this rather somber detour, I continued with the original mission of securing my dessert for the night as well as for Sunday and Monday nights:

How is it that I made it 53 years without ever having a whoopee pie before? Mmm... this was great.