Thursday, April 11, 2019

Boston Marathon 2013 - Memories

I wrote this on my way home from the Boston Marathon in 2013. I was working my way around the block to the reunion area when I heard the two explosions. Every year, Boston brings back the memories. Many are happy memories. This one, not so much. But...Marathon Runners. Just wanted to share. From April 16, 2013. 

Monday afternoon, I stood at the 26 mile mark of the Boston Marathon, and with great pride watched as Francine Robinson ran by me on her way to a sub-4 hour, personal best Boston Marathon. I ran down the sidewalk toward the finish, then walked, then was stopped by the wall of spectators. I cut through a store and out the other side, and as I walked around the block to get past where the finish line was on Boylston Street the text message came over my phone telling that she had finished in 3:59:23. I was proud, excited. Seconds later a loud explosion happened. I thought maybe it was a construction site or something, then a few seconds after a second explosion happened. A Boston cop hurried by and was on his radio. "Two bombs by the finish line" is all I heard him say. I was on the phone, trying to locate Francine, she didn't answer. She had just finished within a minute or two of the blast. I left a message, sent a text, and tried to find my way around the block.

Immediately, cell phones were in action everywhere, and getting calls in and out was next to impossible. TJ Suchocki managed to reach me and became my relay person for messages and information. After repeated attempts at text and calls, Francine and I reached each other at the family reunion area. 

The City of Boston reacted in the most remarkable fashion on Monday. As soon as the blasts went off everyone took action. Runners who were stopped before turning onto Boylston were immediately met by Bostonians pouring out of their houses, offering help, drinks, their houses and their bathrooms to confused sweaty-and-getting-cold runners. Boston police, FBI, National Guard, and what seemed like every ambulance in New England were on the scene immediately. Businesses that were open welcomed displaced runners and spectators in out of the cold. 

Our rental car was stuck under the Prudential Center, which was part of the locked down portion of the city. As we walked around a few blocks looking for a place to get in out of the cold a young Black girl saw Francine's medal and said, "God bless you, I'm glad you're safe," as we passed each other on the street. We found refuge at the Cheesecake Factory and stayed for quite a while, eating and drinking and hanging out with other runners. Everyone was on Facebook and checking up on each other via text messages. Phone service was spotty, with all the bandwidth jammed, but the occasional call we could get out was relayed to family and friends. 

People pull together in the face of these events. Our friends, Carol Neckel and Nancy Wooley invited us to spend the night with them at their hotel. On the way there, a woman who was helping us with directions saw that Francine looked cold and offered to give her the sweater she was wearing. Farther down the street a group of guys saw us walking and stopped us just to make sure that we were OK and that we didn't need anything. 

The event was tragic, yes. But it's times like these that remind us that there's more good in the world than bad, and that Americans will come together when we're met with adversity. Boston Marathon Monday was filled with tears of joy and with tears of sorrow. With confusion, with resolve, with strength.

One of my favorite quotes of the the day is this: If you're trying to defeat the human spirit, MARATHON RUNNERS are the wrong group to target. 

Thank you to all my friends and family who have expressed their love and concern. I treasure you all.

Thursday, January 10, 2019

What the Heck is a CryoSauna?

Hey--this is something I wrote 3 years ago. I'm posting it here as an intro to one of our new sponsors: Xtreme Cryo.

(Look up Dr. Bill Higgenbotham on Facebook and you can see what I'm talking about here.) 

Here's what happens: You stand inside a chamber with your head sticking out the top. Then instead of heat or hot steam, you get COLD steam, a product of liquid nitrogen. Negative 252 degrees F. worth of cold. Your body does what it's designed to do, pulling blood to your core and allowing your extremities to get very cold. Inflammation in your legs goes away. Blood circulating closer to your heart and lungs gets oxygenated faster because it doesn't go to your hands and feet as fast. The whole process takes only 3 minutes, but when I got out, my legs felt noticeably better!

"You got another ten minutes?" Bill asked me. My flight wasn't for a couple hours, so what the heck. He took me in the other room and put some legging things on me (kinda like having a blood pressure cuff running from your toes to your thighs) as I sat in a massage chair. As air pumped into and out of the sleeves around my legs, the chair massaged my back. 

"Let me show you a few more things," and he proceeded to work on stretches and using some thick rubber tape straps that he wraps around and around my leg, squeezing out the blood, then stretching and working those muscles, then unwrapping them rapidly, allowing warm blood back in. 

OK, I know I'm a fairly slow marathoner, so maybe everybody went home already, but I was trying to figure out why everyone who had run the Zydeco Marathon wasn't in Bill's office right then. It was an awesome experience.

I walked out of Bill Higginbotham's Rapid Recovery Center feeling like I hadn't even run a marathon that day. I don't think I could have been any more recovered it I had gone to an upholstery shop.

So I'm trying to figure out how to get someone to bring a cryosauna to Grand Rapids. Or maybe someone has one already? Anyway, it's a kick-ass post-marathon thing.