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Writer's pictureGordon Coates

Underneath the Citgo Sign

Going with the flow takes on a new meaning when watching one of the most historic races in the country. Tens of thousands of people flooding down the street charging through where I walk and live, chasing what we're all chasing; fulfillment, accomplishment, heartbreak, elation, and love.


I definitely did not run the Boston Marathon this year. I’m just a bit too slow, and I’m lacking the experience needed to qualify. Woah, its just like the job market for me. I live in Boston, so even without a qualifying time, I watched the end unfold and unravel underneath the Citgo sign.


My friends and I posted ourselves 24 miles away from the start line dripping with steamed milk and flakes of pastries.


Twenty four miles away from the start line. I wouldn’t go to a restaurant that was that far away, and these thousands of people are running their asses off, giving almost everything to go 2.2 miles further. I was astounded.


I saw heartbreak. A man collapsed a few steps past me. People walked, limped, ached, and yelled their way down mile 24 towards the Citgo sign and eventually Boylston St.


I saw focus. Professionals soaring over the land and expectations. Non elites, dreaming and pushing, for a PR and maybe a chance to make it something more than a hobby. Regular folks eating up the miles through pure will and determination.


I saw joy. A mustachioed man, with a bud light in his hand, and a smile on his face raising his can to cheers from the fans.


Maybe its because I stationed myself after the runners had gone over 95% of the way, but I got to see humanity in its purest form. I was surrounded by spectators and runners exuding excitement, support, grit, and community.


I did not run Boston, but it left its mark on me nonetheless, as did every one of my friends and fellow runners powering their way from Hopkinton. I am riding that energy all the way to April 2023.


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