OPINION - DON'T RUN THE BOSTON MARATHON ROUTE TOMORROW
By David Monti, @d9monti
(c) 2020 Race Results Weekly, all rights reserved - Used with permission.

(19-Apr) -- In the summer of 1987 my girlfriend dumped me and I sought solace in my running. Knocking out the miles everyday brought me a sense of control and well-being as I worked through my feelings. Thirty-mile weeks became 40 and then 50. I started to feel OK again.

So, at 27 years old I decided to sign up for my first marathon. I chose the Marine Corps Marathon because it was only a short drive from where I lived in Virginia at the time, and I had heard it was a well-organized event.

I was a gymnast in high school and college with no running background, but I decided to shoot for what was (for me) a high goal, to break three hours. Remarkably, I did it. I clocked 2:58:43, got a medal and a salute from a U.S Marine, and qualified for the 1988 Boston Marathon. At the time, men under 40 had to break three hours to get into Boston and I wasn't sure if I'd ever do it again. Gleefully, I signed up and started training as soon as I could.

To be honest, my run at Boston the following April didn't go so well. Trying to run 2:52, I ran too fast in the first half (1:24 if I remember correctly), took off my thermal shirt too soon, then froze in the second half when the clouds thickened and the temperature dropped. I walked six times and shuffled to the finish in 3:06:35. It wasn't that the time was so bad, but I really messed up on my race plan. I was shivering, sore and disappointed, but knew I would be back to redeem myself. Maybe next year, or the year after that, I thought.

But it never happened. I never broke three hours again, and although I ran four more marathons (Austin, Big Sur, New York City, and Virginia Beach) I never qualified for Boston again. Instead, in 1994 I started to work in the running industry, and have worked at the Boston Marathon in various capacities every year since 1995. Over that time, my respect and admiration for the race has grown exponentially. Even though I'm from New York and worked 19 years for the TCS New York City Marathon, the Boston Marathon holds a very special place in my heart, and always will.

Tomorrow would have been the 124th edition of the world's oldest marathon, now postponed (God willing!) until September 14. Like most of you, tomorrow won't be the same without the race, and I will miss it terribly.  As Erin Strout wrote in Women's Running last week: "Without the Boston Marathon, how do we know it's spring? Up until now, the third Monday in April was always the most reliable day of celebration for fans and runners around the world." So true.

So for some, the temptation to show up in Hopkinton tomorrow and run the fabled course from Hopkinton Town Common to Boylston Street on their own or in small groups will just be too great. "I've done the training," the thinking goes, "and the streets are public. I can run if I want to."

But if you truly love and respect the Boston Marathon and what it means to runners everywhere, you won't run. That privilege is reserved for the 30,000 who were accepted into the race and earned the right to run so that they can receive not only the unrelenting cheers from the crowd, but the massive and selfless support of the people of Massachusetts who so graciously open their state to the runners and their families. There is no love like Boston Marathon love.

But the people of Massachusetts are busy right now fighting the COVID-19 pandemic. The doctors, nurses, firefighters, EMT's, ambulance drivers, police officers, firefighters, and town and city officials are literally killing themselves to bring the epidemic under control. Running that route tomorrow will disrespect every single one of those dedicated people, the same folks who will embrace and protect all of the runners on September 14.  That's the time to run and celebrate; not tomorrow.

I was lucky enough to have the privilege of running Boston just once, and it was truly magical. I would love to experience it again, but a not-so-fixable knee means I won't. If you want that same feeling, wait until race day, whether it's in 2020, 2021 or beyond. The race will be there for you, and it will generate memories which will last a lifetime. It's worth the wait.


PHOTO: The finish straight of the 2018 Boston Marathon just before Des Linden won the women's race (photo by Jane Monti for Race Results Weekly)