Joe, as you know, I was pleased you did not run given your situation, but very happy that you took the family and had such a wonderful time of it. Hope next year is a healthy one for you and that we get to meet one day. Spareribs

We're waiting....tapping foot impatiently....when is the next chapter coming?????

Well I can certainly relate to this report! Yes, watching is a very different experience than running. But, it was quite a lot of fun! Also, trying without much success to find particular runners as they come by is itself quite an interesting game.

Another great person I didn't get to meet and hope to soon. I have always loved your posts and this one didn't disappoint. I know it can't be easy to change plans after a fabulous PR and well done marathon at Hartford. I am relieved that you didn't injure yourself further at Boston and instead gave lots of others great inspiration. You ran with Holly who I adore and that made me so happy when she told me. I am planning to do the half at Hartford and maybe I'll catch a glimpse of you as you zoom by. Thanks for the great report. CNY/Karin The baked potato shuffle is more to the point and you can certainly use that!

It was so nice to meet you at last, PBJ.

it was great to meet you and your family PBJ - especially enjoyed my mini-conversation with long suffering as we walked to the dessert line, your darling daughters who enjoyed the cannoli's, and most definitely PBJ jr who asked as i was buttoning up his little jacket --- is this what you do all the time?? lol --- he sure is a cutie!!

Part Deux – Easy to Enter, but Tough to Leave You probably know by now that I had the pleasure of running Holly in to the finish line from the Boomer aid station at mile 20. She is a remarkable runner, with such a positive spirit and energy. (Her husband Jim is a real nice guy too). It felt good that I could at least do a little to help such a terrific person. Speaking of energy, three quick items about Holly that she was too modest to admit: 1) This was her second marathon in three weeks, and she’s going to run the flying pig in another two weeks – a true maniac! To attain maniac status, you’re supposed to run 3 marathons in 3 months. She’s doing it in half the time! 2) Holly was very diligent, doing her stretches after finishing the marathon. That’s dedication. I’m lazy. I stretch about as much as Willy Wonka flosses. 3) Her lastest mile was her fastest mile. She ran mile #26 in 8:15. Proof that she will do great at the pig. Thanks for giving me the honor of running with you (although I did feel a little guilty, getting cheers when I only ran six miles). Holly rocks! Now, the rest of the story... Holly and I said our goodbyes, and I was off to find the nearest geeen line T stop. The D line would take me right back to Newton, where I would reunite with Long-Suffering and the PBJsters. I asked a BAA volunteer, and they said go to Arlington – two blocks north. Two blocks took an eternity, as I salmoned my way through the crowd. I didn’t see the stop yet, so I asked a doorman for directions. “Oh, they closed Arlington for the race, you need to go to Copley Station.” So off I go again, fighting the masses by heading west – away from the finish line. As I passed the Marriott Copley Square, I think I saw Nate, but I was too frantic to say anything. I somehow ended up in a restricted area, where I asked the gate keeper for directions. “Just a minute,” he said, “I gotta let these vehicles through the gate.” So I waited while a bus and five minivans (the official timers) passed through the gate. Then it happened – once you open a gate at the Boston marathon, the crowds want to enter. It was mayhem, as the crowd surged into the area. Finally, the gate keeper got the gate closed, and he asked “What did you want again?” “How do I get to the green line from here?” Oh, the nearest stop is Prudential Center – just head towards the Prudential building. So I did. Once inside the station, I waited patiently as an elderly couple tried to figure out how to use the blasted ticket machine. Then as I was about to purchase my fare with a sweat soaked ten dollar bill, a transit authority lady said “Just walk in, marathon runners ride for free.” Feeling a little sheepish, I walked in (and set off the alarm). As I waited another eternity (that's two) for the outbound train, I ate the bagel and sipped the water that they gave to finishers. I started to worry that the PBJsters would be ravenous when I got back. It took 20 minutes before the train came, and it wasn’t the D train, it was the E train. “Well, I guess I’ll step in, and get off at the next stop,” I thought to myself (who else do you think to?). Once aboard, and studying the T line map, it finally dawned on me that I had used a station beyond where the lines split. I would have to get off at the next stop, hop on an inbound train, then get off at a station that serviced all the green lines – yikes. That’s when I struck up a conversation with a gentleman who reminded me a lot of Spareribs. I told him of my predicament, and he said that instead I should “take the E line to the Riverway Station, take a left exiting the train, take a right on Harvard Street, and after a ten minute walk, it intersects with Commonwealth. From that point there’s lots of busses to Newton.” I thanked Spareribs’s double profusely. I got off at Riverway, took a left, and started to run. I crossed quite a few streets, but Harvard wasn’t one of them. I ran for another ten minutes, but there was no Commonwealth either. I was lost, and I’m sure that Long-Suffering was fuming by now, and I couldn't even call her (no cell phone on me). Feeling defeated, I walked into a Dunkin Donuts (there are hundreds of them in Boston), and asked a policeman who was in there “How far is it to the corner of Commonwealth and Centre Street in Newton?” “You’re a long ways away,” was his response. Then, a miracle. A guy in line getting a coffee said “I’m going right there to pick up my car from the shop. I’ll give you a ride.” And he did. His name was Ira, and he’s a psychologist. He also let me use his cellphone to call Long-Suffering. He was my angel in distress. God bless you, Ira. The PBJsters had been waiting a long time, and all of them had sunburn (we were expecting an overcast day). It was going to be a very long, silent ride home until a suggestion was made by Long-Suffering. “The kids want to go to Cracker Barrel in Sturbridge.” So we did, and all was right in the PBJ world again, thanks to some timely macaroni and cheese, cornbread and biscuits. Thanks for reading. Post script - I just measured the distance from Riverway Station to where the PBJ minivan was parked, and it’s slightly more than six miles. It would have been much faster to just run the course backwards from the finish, salmoning the runners. Next time...