Paul's House Diary

Wikipedia says Patriots Day commemorates the battles of Lexington and Concord, in memoriam of the “shot heard round the world.” In current times, it’s shots-all-around for anyone not running the 27 miles  from Hopkington to Copley Square. It’s Marathon Monday, and we all got the day off specifically to go outside, day drink and root on the amazing athletes most of us could never even dream of stacking up to.

I took my camera, my bike, and some sassy diva’s from the most bitchin’ bike gang in Beantown, Wet Dream, and together we stormed the race. Marathon Monday was really designed for bikers, not runners, as almost every wide, beautifully paved street in the Back Bay is off limits to cars. Even my decrepit mountain bike was a cruiser riding the circumference of Copley Square with no interference from back-talking drivers. In general, even pedestrians, normally a bikers arch-nemesis, were welcoming! Bostonians should day-drink together more often.

We got as close to the action as possible. We even snagged a chat with one of the champions, who got a time of 2 hours and 20 minutes and could still form complete sentences while standing without aid. Incredible. Half of the (drunk) audience was incapable of this feat, and he just ran a Marathon.

Here are a handful of pictures I collected in my travels. It’s always been a dream of mine to either work in one of the offices along the route or have a room at the Lenox so I can hang out the window over the finish line. After this year’s race, I learned the action is on the ground floor. If I was actually in a good spot to see the runner’s coming, I never would’ve met the great people I did, like Caroline, the princess in gold sequin’s pictured below. Can’t wait to not run the Marathon next year!

Update: Soundslides from Marathon