The 2024 Boston Marathon and the Making of an Ordinary Champion
Runners are delivered to Hopkinton riding the hardened bench seats of school buses. No one complains of the spartan conditions, though. In due time we would all be running in the Boston Marathon. What could be better?
Except this time, it was better. The bus was a comfortable Mercedes touring coach complete with air conditioning and a lavatory. And we weren’t destined for the sprawling Athlete’s Village where nearly 30,000 runners queue for porta potties or rest on the dew-dampened grass while waiting for their starting waves to be launched.
We were being taken to our VIP tent in the exclusive Hopkinton Common, the same staging area used by the elite racers.
One gentleman on the bus carried a large video camera. He was filming a documentary of visually-impaired runner Mark Rogerson in his pursuit of the Abbott World Marathon Majors Six Star Medal.
Mark is totally blind in one eye and has only partial sight in the other. He would be the second visually-impaired runner to earn a Six Star Medal. Anthony Butler was the first, having completed his six-star journey in London the year before.
Mark lives in the UK near Liverpool and his guide runner, Katie Garrity, lives in Chicago. Mark entered the Chicago Marathon in 2018 and needed a local guide that could match his pace. Katie fit the bill. They have run six marathons together spanning Europe, North America, and Japan. They train separately then get together a few days before the race.
I asked Katie about being a guide runner. I was curious how she managed to keep Mark safe amongst the hordes of other runners. She admitted that it was a challenge. They are tethered together and she must call out often to alert Mark of the potential hazards. But sighted runners know the drill and are mindful when they are in Mark’s vicinity.
I met Jeff Lampe while we were waiting in the VIP tent before the race. A motorcycle accident amputated Jeff’s left leg below the knee in 2011. Besides marathons he has competed in Ironman Triathlons and is a member of the US Para Skeleton team. Skeleton racing is like luge except the racer plummets down the icy track head first.
Jeff was fitted with one of those curved blade prosthetics as a stand-in for his ankle and foot. He removes it to swim. For cycling his prosthetic is fitted with a special attachment that allows him to clip onto his pedal.
In the VIP tent at the end of the race, I struck up a conversation with Francesco Magisano, another visually impaired runner. He’s been totally blind since he was 14 years old, the result of eye cancer he had as an infant. Over the years the cancer progressively stole his vision.
Francesco said that some years ago he was negotiating a supermarket with his cane and a fellow from Achilles International approached him. Achilles International’s charter is to empower individuals with disabilities to compete in athletic events.
The Achilles guy said to Francesco, “You are blind. You should run.”
With that, Francesco started running. Now he works for Achilles International full time as the Director of the New York City Metro Region and helped build TriAchilles, the triathlon program.
Like Jeff, Francesco is also an Ironman Triathlete. (Para Athletes don’t accept limits, it seems.) His guide runner was with him in the tent and was happy to answer my questions. For the bicycle portion of a triathlon, the athlete rides tandem with their guide. Swimming is more complicated. There is a bungee cord tethering the athlete to the guide. The guide’s job is to keep to a straight line. Tension from the bungee cord clues the athlete about stroke adjustments needed to stay alongside the guide.
I am barely scratching the surface. The runners on my bus and the VIP tents could have entertained me with their stories for days.
I surely did not belong with this crowd, yet, I was thrilled to be there.
How did this happen?
Indeed, having failed to qualify for the 2024 Boston Marathon and finding no success at obtaining a charity entry, I was resigned to be sitting it out this time thus ending my Boston streak at three races.
Then in December, Cristina Burbach, another runner with Parkinson’s disease posted on Facebook that the Boston Athletic Association (B.A.A.) added two new Para Athletic divisions this year. One of these divisions was for athletes with coordination impairment, which includes Parkinson’s disease (PD). There would be prize money for the top three male and female finishers. She was hoping to get more runners with PD to enter the race so as to help make this division a success.
The prize money was intriguing but I’m too slow to give it much attention. Irrespective, competing in this division required a classification as a Para Athlete and I did not have that. Indeed, with all of the exercise I get, mainly running, my PD symptoms are hardly noticeable. I suspected that any attempt to be classified as a Para Athlete would be met with derision. “Get out of here, poser!” they would say.
However, Cristina’s post reminded me that runners with PD could also enter the marathon as an “Adaptive Athlete”. I’ve long known this but have never tried entering Boston this way. Again, I figured that the Adaptive program was for people whose struggle with PD was more severe than mine.
I decided it was worth a try, though.
I emailed Taylor Wilson at the B.A.A. who, upon receiving the proper paperwork from my neurologist, immediately sent me registration materials for entering the race as an Adaptive Athlete. I was in!
Taylor also let me know that she would move me into the appropriate Para division if I get classified before the race. She was working on having classification available in Boston during marathon weekend and put me on the list of hopefuls.
Again, I had no expectation of meeting the conditions for classification as a Para Athlete but that didn’t matter. The Adaptive Program was fine by me; I was happy to once again be running in the world’s premier marathon.
My appointment was on Saturday afternoon with the race on the following Monday. I met with two classifiers, Denise Hutchins and Trisha Yurochko, from Move United, which is affiliated with the U.S. Olympic & Paralympic Committee.
We started with a conversation about my experience with PD that included my date of diagnosis, symptoms at the time of diagnosis, current symptoms, and general chit-chat. That discussion went on a long time — I think that I was their last appointment and so there was no time pressure.
Afterwards there was a physical exam. While I lay face up on an examination table, Denise manipulated my limbs and called out numbers ranging from zero to three for Trisha to record. I have no idea what scale Denise was working with nor do I remember many of the numbers but I do recall that during one manipulation, my right arm — the one with a slight tremor, was given a zero.
Then there was a series of movement tests: heel to toe walking, single-leg balances, sprints, skips, jumps, sideways cross-over steps, and several others. Upon testing to their satisfaction, Denise and Trisha asked me to wait outside the examination room while they discussed the results.
During testing, they mentioned that I performed some movements very well. I let them know that many of the tests were the same as some drills I do regularly during training. I suspected that my performance would indicate that I did not meet the minimum criteria for the impairment.
Upon calling me back into the examination room, Denise and Trisha gave me a briefing on the T35–38 classification, which describes a range of impairments. T35 athletes are moderately affected in the legs, trunk, and/or arms. T36 refers to movement and coordination impairments in all four limbs. With T37, the impairments are restricted to one side of the body. T38 meets the criteria for minimum impairment and that is where they classified me.
As PD is a progressive disorder, my classification could change over time. They told me that I would have to be re-classified in two years.
I was very happy with the result. Adaptive Athletes get nearly all the same perks as the Para Athletes: a comfortable bus ride to Hopkinton, VIP tents at the start and finish, proximity to elite racers in Hopkinton, and an early (10:00 am) start wave.
Para Athletes start even earlier — 9:50 am, just after the elite women. Every minute counts on a day that was expected to warm up to the 70's.
Also, though it may expire before the 2026 Boston Marathon, the classification should get me into the 2025 race.
The impact to me, however, goes well beyond entry into the marathon. This was a very thorough examination that benchmarked the state of my Parkinson’s. I like to believe that I have stopped PD’s progression with the exercise I do. I have no accounting for this belief, however. When I am reclassified in two years, I will have definitive proof, one way or the other.
Whenever possible, I like to meet up with runners and other friends when I travel to a major marathon.
Saturday morning, I had coffee with Carita Wegner. We first met while queueing for the 2021 Boston Marathon Expo and have stayed in touch since then, reconnecting when our marathon schedules coincide.
Like me, Carita uses exercise to overcome disease. She has lung sarcoidosis and asthma along with some mysterious ailments causing pain and stiffness in her neck and back that have stymied a host of doctors. She recently found a specialist for the neck issues who shows promise but in the meantime, a steady diet of marathons and ultra-marathons keeps her medical issues in check.
Carita ran well in Boston the year before thus qualifying her for this year’s race. I described how I got into the race this year and briefed her on my upcoming classification appointment. Of course, at the time I did not know if I would meet the classification criteria.
She was excited by this news. “You are going to win!” she said. I told her, “No, that was unlikely, there are many fast runners in the Para Divisions.”
At that time, I really did not know the odds. I have since determined that there were only 36 Para Athletes running in the seven Para divisions. With first, second, and third prizes for each gender of each division that worked out to a total of 42 prizes to be spread about the 36 athletes. This is a program in need of heavy recruitment.
Lunch on Saturday was with Craig and Sarah Revie for lunch. The Revies were traveling from Scotland. Craig was recently diagnosed with PD and I met him through social media. Both of them turned to fitness after Craig’s diagnosis. They each lost 3 stone (42 pounds) on their new regimen. Diet-conscious now, they were struggling a bit with finding their preferred foods in this country. I gave Craig a tip on where he might be able to find some beetroot juice — Life Alive Organic Cafe in Harvard Square. The advice was spot on.
Earlier in the year, I encouraged Craig to run Boston in the Adaptive Program and sent him the contact information he needed. We learned that the classification to be offered later that day was only available to U.S citizens. He’s hoping to get the job done sometime in Scotland before next year’s race.
In 2021, just before the Chicago Marathon, I met the Jones family at the Michael J. Fox Foundation Team Fox pre-race gathering. Eric was running the next day and his sister, Julia, and parents, Rick and Inga, all came along to support him. I found the show of solidarity for Eric so touching. In turn, they were amazed at my 2021 World Marathon Majors campaign while under the influence of Parkinson’s.
We have kept in touch since. Inga and Rick are both pharmacists and Julia recently got her doctorate of Pharmacology at UCSF. Eric went on to meet his eventual fiance Sybil Sha (also a doctor) while interning and now they both live in New York City. I met up with Eric again at the 2023 New York City Marathon where he introduced me to Sybil.
Eric would be running in Boston and Inga, Rick, and Sybil came to support him. We got together Sunday for breakfast. I was again touched by their show of support for Eric, and by extension, for me. It impressed me how easily we fell back into conversation when most of our interaction over the ensuing years was through social media.
Rick and Inga remarked on all I have accomplished since we last met. I was happy for the kind words but insisted that, really, I am just an ordinary guy reacting to his new reality. This is important and it is how I prefer to present myself to others newly-diagnosed with PD. People living with PD can thrive; adversity enhances the adventure.
I had received my classification as a Para Athlete the day before. That meant that Eric, a very fast runner, would start 10 minutes after me in the first wave of qualified runners. I estimated that he would pass by me at about the three mile mark and urged him to look for the pink socks and say hello as he flew by.
Adaptive and Para Athletes were instructed to arrive at the Sheraton Hotel near Copley Square in Boston by 5:30 am Monday for the trip to Hopkinton. While waiting for the buses to load, I chatted with some of the other Parkies entered in the marathon.
I already knew Rhonda Foulds and Renee Trent from Team Synapse. Team Synapse is comprised of runners who are all living with PD. We have done two long-distance relay races together to raise funds for Parkinson’s research. Rhonda and Renee were classified for the Para Division but, because she used a guide runner, Rhonda was relegated to the Adaptive Division. Craig Revie joined her in that group.
Also in the Para Division were Cristina Burbach and Sara Whittingham. Cristina, who was instrumental is raising awareness of this opportunity for us, is an accomplished runner who earlier in her career flirted with elite status. Life and PD conspired to put an end to that.
Sara is a doctor and triathlete. She competed in the 2023 Ironman World Championship in Kona last October. Her medical background presents opportunities to raise awareness of Parkinson’s and the benefit that exercise provides in slowing its progression.
I was anticipating a rough day. Last year the temperature was a perfect 48 degrees throughout the race and I ran my best Boston to date (3:57:47). This time the forecast was for temperature in the 70’s.
I don’t do well in such heat. It’s one of the many symptoms of PD — I have battled dehydration and painful muscle cramps in most of the marathons I have run. But over the years I have developed solutions. First, I take SaltStick Electrolyte tablets liberally throughout the race, about one every mile. This allows me to keep up with the sodium I lose in my sweat. I have found that when I take enough of these tablets, I don’t get cramps.
Second, on hot days I resign myself to a slow pace. I know that I can always complete a marathon despite the heat as long as I don’t insist upon some arbitrary finish time goal. Boston is always a thrill regardless of how well I run.
It was a nice setup in Hopkinton. Our VIP tent was outfitted with chairs, refreshments, yoga mats, foam rollers, and our own array of portable toilets.
One favorite part was getting a glimpse of the elite women. They were escorted to the starting line right alongside our tent and I caught sight of some famous names: Sara Hall, Edna Kiplagat, Emma Bates. When it was our turn to be escorted to the starting line, we took our place behind these pros and watched as they darted off to the sound of the starting gun.
Never have I ever imagined that I would get this close to marathon greatness in action. As is the case with countless other thrills I have experienced over the past six years, I have Parkinson’s disease to thank for this.
Then it was the Para Athletes turn with the starting gun and we had the whole course to ourselves. As mentioned earlier, we were a rather small group. With no other runners present, the spectators lining the streets cheered exclusively for us.
Our time in the spotlight was short-lived, however. Ten minutes after us, the first wave of qualified runners were sent off and I anticipated their crush at about the two mile mark.
It was a stampede. I moved over to the side of the road so as not to interfere with the hordes as they barreled through. Eric Jones and I did not manage to connect. From the post-race timing mat data I saw that he flew past me just after the three mile mark.
Some friends from Seattle passed me by later but stopped long enough to greet me. Mike Marshino, who runs Boston every year, cheered for me as he cruised past at mile 8. Peter Vosshal, another perennial Boston participant, slowed down to chat with me for a minute or so at about 19.5 miles before dashing off. Peter was definitely feeling the heat, as was I. Seattle is not the place to prepare for a hot weather race.
In fact, there were runners in distress throughout the latter miles. I came upon a woman who shuffled to a stop, looked up at the sky, and slowly, twisting, began to topple over. I managed to catch her while she was still upright and loudly asked her if she was OK. She just silently stared up at me before some other, more savvy, runners took her to get medical assistance.
Against the odds, MarathonFoto managed to capture me at the Wellesley Scream Tunnel in a picture looking much better than I felt (below).
The night before the race, I attended the pre-race dinner with Team Fox of the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research. They invite me to their events whether or not I am actually running for them. Their cheer station was set up just before Heartbreak Hill and they screamed mightily and gave me high fives as I ran past.
Darien Wood is a friend of mine from college who lives in Brookline near the course. He always stands ready at Coolidge Corner (~24 miles) to exhort me on while holding the same hand-written sign he has displayed at every one of my Boston Marathons. This year his son, Max, joined him. Yet, I always have difficulty remembering the location of his preferred cheer spot. Beginning at the top of Heartbreak, I scanned the sidelines hoping for them to appear and when they finally did I stopped to give them a sweaty hug. I told Darien and Max that I was very happy to see them. It meant that I only had about two more miles of torture left.
I didn’t expect any more targeted cheering the rest of the way. Then in Kenmore Square, with about a mile to go, I heard my name being yelled loudly and enthusiastically.
It was Chuck Kistler, who I met in North Carolina at our first Team Synapse relay in 2022. Chuck owns a pub in North Carolina and donates a portion of his profits to the Fox Foundation. I knew that he was in town but did not expect to see him. I stopped to give him a hug and to let him know that I was dying. He told me I looked great and to get on with it. “You are almost there,” he said.
There was more carnage on Boylston Street approaching the finish. I saw several collapsed runners on stretchers getting assistance. My finish time was 4:32:44, 35 minutes slower than the previous year when the temperature was ideal. Running in this heat is no joke.
After finishing, I went looking for the VIP tent at 500 Boylston. I wanted to sit down a bit and get something to drink. My bib number indicated my status as a Para Athlete, hence, volunteers directed me to our finisher’s chute separate from all the othe runners.
Another nice perk of the Para Division was that all of our gear that we took to Hopkinton was brought back to the finish for us. Other runners didn’t get this treatment. They have to either carry what they brought to the start with them or discard it in Hopkinton.
I entered the first tent I came to in search of my gear. The volunteers there asked if I was OK, how I was feeling, what I needed from them, and would I like to sit down. I just wanted my bag of stuff. And, yes, I wanted to sit down.
Unknowingly, I had walked into a medical tent. Because of the heat, the volunteers there were on high alert to get medical attention to the runners who came by. One of them figured out my confusion and told me where the VIP tent was and I stumbled in that direction and was given my Finisher’s medal on the way.
In the VIP tent, I had my conversation with Francesco Magisano and his guide. The subject of whether or not Francesco placed in his division came up. Curious, I decided to check my results and saw the following on the tracking app:
I finished in First Place in my division!
Oh, wait . . . I was the only one running in my division.
Ah, well. Sometimes all it takes to receive good fortune is to show up.
The B.A.A. sent me a congratulatory email with instructions for collecting my prize at the Fairmont Hotel. Sheepishly, I headed off to Fairmont feeling a bit undeserved.
But the B.A.A. folks at the Fairmont, which included Taylor Wilson, did not act as if this award was in any way cheapened by being unopposed. One of them, Taylor I think, told me that I was the Inaugural Champion of this division and treated me like one. They handed me my trophy with the division engraved on it, had me wear a laurel wreath, and snapped photos (below).
Me? A Boston Marathon Champion? Surreal doesn’t begin to describe it.
However odd the circumstances, it was the experience of a lifetime and I am grateful to the B.A.A. for making it available and for Denise Hutchins and Trisha Yurochko for going out of their way to provide the Para Athlete classification.
The B.A.A. even posted a photo of me on Facebook and Instagram (the one at Wellesley) along with all the other Champions of the seven Para Divisions. Cristina championed the Female T35–38 division. Sara was runner-up and Renee came in third.
To be clear, all the Parkies in the T35–38 Division I mentioned above came home with hardware and prize money. There were no other competitors in T35–38. I will be donating my cash prize of $2500 to the Fox Foundation.
All of us are now motivated to spread the word about this division. We want it to be successful and lasting. That means that until next April, I will be recruiting the runner who will inherit my laurel wreath at the 2025 Boston Marathon.
