#flashbackfriday Crossing the Finish Line: A Moment of Redemption - A Realization of Power

I posted this picture on Facebook yesterday and received many wonderful comments so I decided to use it for today's blog.



We took our place at the mobility impaired start on the morning of 4/20/2009. Dave McGilivray gave us the voice command, runners take your mark, get set, go. I can still remember everything so clearly. I felt as though it was just like a regular training run. Going off at 9 am the crowds were sparse once we left the starting line behind us. I remember feeling there was a certain surreal quality about actually being out on the Boston Marathon course.



We had run every part of the course except the stretch from Hopkinton to Framingham. We passed through Ashland and as we got closer to Framingham, the crowds seemed to appear out of nowhere as if we were on a movie set. The waves of elite runners were passing us. I remember the thrill of seeing the likes of Ryan Hall and the Kenyans pass us. We joked that we were holding back, planning our surge once we got to the Newton Hills.

The Wellesley College scream tunnel can only be experienced not described.

As we ran through Wellesley Center, spectators could see that I was not your average runner. They cheered and screamed for me and Spaulding Rehab. The temperatures climbed to 70 degrees and we stripped off layers. My husband stopped and tossed his running pants. Yes he was wearing shorts underneath them. I was wearing Capris and would need them once the headwind hit us coming off of the Newton Hills.

Friends met us along the way and would run with us. I knew that I needed to keep a slow pace to avoid injury as we went through what seemed to be 3 different weather seasons that day. It was relatively easy for them to keep us with us.

We turned onto Beacon Street. How many times had we run this stretch of the road since our first and last training run and every run in between. I knew we were going to finish. My only hope was that we would finish before the finish line closed.

Kenmore Square. One mile to go.

When we turned onto Hereford Street, the tears began to flow but I knew I had to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. I could feel that I had a mother lode of a blood blister on my foot. My mouth felt as though I had cotton in it.

The turn onto Boylston Street seeing the lights and arc of the finish line in the distance. It's true what they say about the distance from that left onto Boylston Street to the finish line. It seems longer than the entire 26 mile course already run.

And then - the finish line! We crossed over the finish line to the volunteer area to have the chip removed from our shoes and receive our medal. I was, needless to say, very wobbly on my feet. I apologized to the volunteer for having difficulty finding my balance. He said, "You just ran 26.2 miles. There's nothing to apologize for!" He gave me his hand and arm for support as he took the chip off of my shoe and exchanged it with a medal around my neck.



While it was a moment of personal redemption as a survivor of paralytic polio and trauma, it was a moment far greater than myself. They say that the person who starts the race is not the same person who crosses the finish line of a marathon. I knew that my marathon run would be a story to be told and retold to inspire others. It was the beginning of a new starting line in my healing journey; an accomplishment that would stay in my heart, body and soul as I navigate the sometimes turbulent waters of my healing odyssey.

As a trauma survivor, I experienced what I call the energy of helplessness and lived with this uneasy sense of fear and uncertainty in my soul and in my body. During this morning's meditation I realized that I may have experienced a feeling of helplessness and been terrified out of my mind, BUT I never lost my power. It was there all along. To survive, I chose to not act on how strong I was or how powerful I was. It was there all along. Crossing the finish line of the 2009 Boston Marathon was a moment of redemption and a moment when I reclaimed just how powerful a woman I am; just how powerful any trauma survivor is and just how powerful we all are regardless of external circumstances. It is a power that comes from deep within the very essence of our souls. It is the power that fuels us in the marathon of life.



My memoir, "Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility" is now available on Amazon.

"Wait, I have one more goal," Mary McManus told her personal trainer in February of 2008 shortly after coming out of her toe up leg brace. "I want to run the Boston Marathon for Spaulding Rehab Hospital." Mary traded in her polio shoes for running shoes and embarked on the journey of a lifetime. Mary McManus was at the height of her career as a VA social worker when she was told by her team at Spaulding Rehabilitation Hospital’s International Rehab Center for Polio in December of 2006 that she needed to quit her job if she had any hope of preventing the progression of post polio syndrome, a progressive neuromuscular disease. In “Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility” Mary takes you on her seven year healing odyssey as a survivor of paralytic polio and trauma from her diagnosis, to taking a leap of faith to leave her award winning career at the VA to heal her life and follow her passion as a poet and writer. You’ll experience her trials, tribulations and triumphs as she trains for and crosses the finish line of the 2009 Boston Marathon and discovers the opportunity for healing in the wake of new trauma: the suicide of her nephew in 2011, and the aftermath of the 2013 Boston Marathon bombings. This is Mary's journey of coming home to her human form free from the influences of the ghastly ghostly invaders who had invaded her sacred earthly home. Her memoir includes journals and blog posts from her seven year healing odyssey. This is her journey of transformation and her message of healing, hope and possibility.

I donate 50% of royalty payments through on line sales to The One Fund to help Boston Marathon survivors and their families. Copies are also available at Brookline Marathon Sports. $5 of each book sold at Marathon Sports is donated to The One Fund.

Building Confidence - "The Secret Weapon" - Training for Tufts

I'm reading Kathrine Switzer's book, "Marathon Woman." She calls running her secret weapon and a part of her quest to bring equality to the sport of running was so that women could experience the secret weapon.

I was a late comer to the sport of running, taking my first steps as a runner at the age of 54. Something inside of me said that I needed to run; that I had to run and that I had to run the 2009 Boston Marathon.

Training for and running the 2009 Boston Marathon was a journey that helped me to move out of my perception of myself as disabled and unable to succeed in athletic endeavors. I honed my intellectual prowess in order to survive and to experience success in my life. It was a blessing and saved me but I paid a terrible price in not paying attention to my physical form.

It's been a journey full of highs and lows; triumphs and tribulations. Yes running is a wonderful metaphor for life and vice versa. In 2011, I stopped listening to that call and that need to run. But truth always prevails and last April I returned to the roads and to the open arms of the running community.

When I literally dropped to the ground after contracting paralytic polio at the age of 5, having confidence in my body was shaken to my core. Feeling my body's physical decline at the age of 53 was frightening. My ongoing challenge during this 7 and a half year healing odyssey has been to acknowledge and heal the feelings of helplessness and fear while building confidence in my strength and my a-bility in my body. There are times when I have to pause and allow my body to organize. When I am tired, it can be a challenge to go from sitting to standing. It takes time for my body to recover after a run and I have had to set limits on how/when/where I choose to expend my energy. I am truly blessed that my husband and daughter understand that in order for me to stem the tide of this neuromuscular condition that I need help with chores and can no longer do it all if I am going to be able to do the things that I enjoy doing.

When I first returned to the roads in April of 2013, I didn't feel the spark; that secret weapon; the feeling of empowerment and strength that comes when I'm out on the roads. Slowly the spark returned and yesterday while training on the Tufts 10K course, I was on fire.

I love the new course for the Tufts 10K:



We used to wind our way through the narrow streets of Beacon Hill and over the Longfellow Bridge. Since the bridge is under construction, we go out Beacon Street and over the Mass. Ave Bridge.

I thought that my Nike+ may have gone wonky since my time for the 6.11 miles was 7 minutes less than the week before with a time of 1:33:28; a pace of 15'18"/mile. My husband and daughter reassured me that the pace was accurate given how they felt keeping up with me. They are used to a much more relaxed pace when they support me during my training run. The weather conditions were perfect. The temperatures were cool and there was no humidity. We had a huge tailwind and the new course is relatively flat. The sky was a brilliant blue and the sun sparkling off of the Charles River was magnificent. I continued to run from the inside out paying keen attention to stopping at our "water stops." I didn't know what my pace was at one point, but I knew I was really pushing myself. I could tell that I needed to stop and then walk in order to allow my body to regroup.

But I didn't care about the time.

I cared about the way that I felt being out on the course. I experienced a flashback to how I felt running Tufts in October of 2008. I felt the sense of reckless abandon in my body; freedom and joy riding the waves of moving, pushing the edge of my envelope and a connection to the essence of who I am.

From my memoir and an article I wrote for Cape Healing Arts Magazine:

Running with God

Two years ago, in October of 2006, when I felt I could no longer live with fatigue, weakness and pain, God suggested that I Google post polio syndrome. I called Spaulding Rehab’s International Rehab Center for Polio and an angel, Anna Rubin, answered the phone. After a series of appointments at Spaulding, an MRI, an appointment with my primary care provider and seven tubes of blood later (to rule out any other possible causes for my symptoms), I was diagnosed with post polio syndrome – a progressive neurological disease. Mind, body and spirit were burned out from the external demands of a full time job in social work and caring for my family, and mind, body and spirit were crying out for growth and transformation.

On a cold dark day in February 2007, wearing a leg brace, using a cane and at times a wheelchair for mobility, I contemplated my future. I felt the urge to create: I sat down at my laptop and wrote the poem, Running the Race.
Running the Race - Feb, 2007
Early summer 1959 my kindergarten year
Everyone around me filled with nervous fear
Despite the Salk vaccine hope polio would disappear
The polio virus crept right up and knocked me in the rear.

Dancing all around the gym feeling free just like a bird
I dropped to the ground just like a stone and no one said a word.
The pain it was so searing-the diagnosis even worse
"It's polio" the doctor said...he was abrupt and terse.

Called one of the 'lucky ones' I had a 'mild case'
But with the other athletes I could never keep their pace.
Miss Holly physical therapist, curly hair and a warm, broad smile
It tempered the pain of being apart - to walk I'd take awhile.

I always wore those 'special' shoes the kids they poked and teased
With no support and much abuse with childhood I wasn't pleased.
But put nose to the grindstone and learned all that I could
I couldn't kick a ball but my grades were always good.

Years went by and no more thought to polio did I give
I accepted the limp and everything else
and decided my life I would live.
But symptoms of weakness and muscle pain did grow
I kept a stoic face hoping no one else would know.

Life no longer was my own I struggled through each day
Suffered in silence, isolated from friends-
trying to keep depression at bay.
And with the grace of glorious God my world it opened wide
I discovered there was a Post Polio team and they were on my side.

Using wheelchair to travel, set limits on what I could do,
Resulted in joy to realize I could live life anew.
Celebrated my body- creaks, groans and need for a brace
While in my mind I focused on winning a 10K race.

Sought out paths for healing and my spirit flew free
For the first time in life, I could truly be me.
The chains are gone and possibilities abound
I'm a tree with my roots planted firmly in ground.

I'm now off the sidelines, no need to sit and whine
So much gratitude fills my heart and love and beauty shine.
After all these years I can join the loving human race
I exceed all expectations and now I set the pace.

Carl Jung says that our unconscious prepares the future. I had no idea that on October 13, 2008, I would, in fact, run a 10K race with my daughter Ruth Anne.

Through intensive rehab at Spaulding Rehab, major lifestyle changes (quitting my full time job to follow my bliss of being a poet), nutritional changes, reconnecting with God, working with an angel personal trainer, Janine Hightower of Boston Home Bodies and Janice Wesley, a gifted physical therapist and energy healer, my mind, body and spirit healed in profound ways.

In February of 2008, I traded in my polio shoes for running shoes. And, at the Tufts 10K, my daughter and I finished the race with a time of 13:53 minute/mile pace. The actual time of course is irrelevant – it was a miracle that I was able to even lace up a pair of running shoes and contemplate running 6.2 miles. My daughter and I had set our goal pace at a 15 minute mile hoping to finish in an hour and a half.

We spent a lot of time together in prayerful preparation for race day. We ran 4.5 miles on Saturday at a 15 minute pace. We rested and nourished ourselves on Sunday. I did the alignment exercises prescribed by Janice and did pilates to strengthen my core. We took our time getting ready on race day, fueling with a healthy breakfast and while I was chomping at the bit to get to the race, Ruth Anne helped steady my nerves by talking about the need to conserve energy.

We became quiet and I meditated on the train ride to the race inviting God to shower me with energy, strength and love. I could run the distance – we were up to running 10 miles for long distance runs, but could I run it at a fast pace? I reflected on one of my spiritual experiences on one of our long distance runs. I had an image of my polio self and who I am today side by side in a huge bubble. As I ran, the distance lengthened between my polio self and who I am today until the bubble finally burst and I was free.

I felt God’s presence as a long forgotten childhood memory surfaced. Cries from my childhood of ‘easy out’, ‘we don’t want her on our team,’ ‘what’s wrong with her anyway?’ melted away. I remembered the day in gym when we were playing kickball and the entire outfield moved in as they always did when I was up. All of a sudden, I connected with the ball and ended up kicking a home run because there was no one in the outfield! I decided that today was a day for another surprise. I told God I wanted my daughter to be proud of me.

We were in perfect physical and spiritual harmony. Our feet moved in perfect rhythm; we ran hills as we had during hill training sessions and coached each other during down hills. God’s presence was palpable and my Spirit transcended my physical body allowing me to sustain a pace I had never run before. I felt the energy and cheers from the crowd along with the prayers from friends I knew were praying for me that day.

As my daughter and I crossed the finish line, the clock read: 1:29 – but that was gun time…our actual time was 1:26 – four minutes under what we visualized as our goal for that day and a good one minute less per mile than we were hoping for! The magic and miracle of October 13, 2008 shall forever be an imprint on my Spirit! I am so grateful to my beautiful daughter, the organizers of the Tufts 10K, the staff at Spaulding Rehab’s International Rehab Center for Polio and Spaulding Rehab Downtown Boston, Janine Hightower, Janice Wesley, and of course, God – our Loving Creator who guides my footsteps every moment of every day. – cha
By Mary McManus, Winter 2008

I am keenly aware of the challenges I live with every day. I know that I need the Aquatics Therapy program at Spaulding Rehab twice/week although occasionally I will trade off a Wednesday afternoon class for a Wednesday run. I cannot strength train on land without injury but I can safely strength train in the water. I cannot run in the evening. I have to choose my races wisely.

After yesterday's training run I realized it's not about the time or the races or what I can or cannot do. It's that feeling I experience when I am out running. I feel confidence and strength no matter the distance or the pace. After paralytic polio followed by 9 years of unrelenting violence, I can experience peace with all that is knowing that I am stronger and greater than anything that happened to me and have the ability to manage whatever may come my way...and a big part of experiencing that peace is because running is my secret weapon.


My memoir, "Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility" is now available on Amazon.

"Wait, I have one more goal," Mary McManus told her personal trainer in February of 2008 shortly after coming out of her toe up leg brace. "I want to run the Boston Marathon for Spaulding Rehab Hospital." Mary traded in her polio shoes for running shoes and embarked on the journey of a lifetime. Mary McManus was at the height of her career as a VA social worker when she was told by her team at Spaulding Rehabilitation Hospital’s International Rehab Center for Polio in December of 2006 that she needed to quit her job if she had any hope of preventing the progression of post polio syndrome, a progressive neuromuscular disease. In “Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility” Mary takes you on her seven year healing odyssey as a survivor of paralytic polio and trauma from her diagnosis, to taking a leap of faith to leave her award winning career at the VA to heal her life and follow her passion as a poet and writer. You’ll experience her trials, tribulations and triumphs as she trains for and crosses the finish line of the 2009 Boston Marathon and discovers the opportunity for healing in the wake of new trauma: the suicide of her nephew in 2011, and the aftermath of the 2013 Boston Marathon bombings. This is Mary's journey of coming home to her human form free from the influences of the ghastly ghostly invaders who had invaded her sacred earthly home. Her memoir includes journals and blog posts from her seven year healing odyssey. This is her journey of transformation and her message of healing, hope and possibility.

I donate 50% of royalty payments through on line sales to The One Fund to help Boston Marathon survivors and their families. Copies are also available at Brookline Marathon Sports. $5 of each book sold at Marathon Sports is donated to The One Fund.

#mondaymotivation Wilma Rudolph

"Do you know who Wilma Rudolph is?" my personal trainer asked me as I struggled through an early run training for the 2009 Boston Marathon.

"No," I said. "I never heard of her."

"Well google her when you get home. I want you to read her story," she told me in no uncertain terms.

From Wikipedia,

"Wilma Glodean Rudolph (June 23, 1940 – November 12, 1994) was an American athlete and an Olympic champion. Rudolph was considered the fastest woman in the world in the 1960s and competed in two Olympic Games, in 1956 and in 1960.

In the 1960 Summer Olympics in Rome Rudolph became the first American woman to win three gold medals in track and field during a single Olympic Games. A track and field champion, she elevated women's track to a major presence in the United States. As a member of the black community, she is also regarded as a civil rights and women's rights pioneer. Along with other 1960 Olympic athletes such as Cassius Clay, who later became Muhammad Ali, Rudolph became an international star due to the first international television coverage of the Olympics that year.

The powerful sprinter emerged from the 1960 Rome Olympics as "The Tornado, the fastest woman on earth".

Why did my trainer refer me to Wilma Rudolph for inspiration? Because when she was four years old she contracted paralytic polio. Her mother was told she would never walk again. Then she was told she would never walk without a leg brace. With the fierceness of a mother's love and surrounded by a loving, supportive family, Wilma Rudolph came out of her leg brace. She was on the high school basketball team and ran track as something to do in the off season.

While I did not have the love and support of my mother during my recovery from paralytic polio and had the added challenge of family violence from the age of 8 until the age of 17, I had my Spirit and I had earth angels who would support me throughout my life.

Miss Holly, my physical therapist, offered me the tender love and support that a mother would offer to her own child.

I had a french teacher, Miss Dupres, who nourished me in junior high and high school. After graduating high school, and following my father's suicide on 8/1/1971, she invited me into Manhattan to meet her for lunch before I began my freshman year at Boston University. She gave me a sewing kit. She told me that no matter what life may rend apart, I would always be able to put it back together again.

After being diagnosed with post polio syndrome, Allison Lamarre-Poole came into my life. She helped me to believe that I could and would get stronger. She had enough faith for both of us until I could believe that I could heal and was not destined for a future in a wheelchair.

Then I met Janine whose first words to me after asking her if she thought I could get a little stronger were a Henry Ford quote, "Whether you think you can or think you can't, you're right."

She could have walked away from me when I told her I wanted to run the 2009 Boston Marathon shortly after coming out of my leg brace and never having run a day in my life. But, like Wilma Rudolph's mother, she believed that I could move beyond the late effects of paralytic polio and achieve the dream that was in my heart.



It took a village to help me cross the finish line of the 2009 Boston Marathon and it takes a village to support me getting back on the roads.

"No matter what accomplishments you make somebody always helps you." Wilma Rudolph

I feel blessed and grateful for the people now in my life who help me to stem the tide of a progressive neuromuscular disease and to be able to live a full, vibrant life. And thank you to Wilma Rudolph for being my inspiration as I began my running journey on the road to the Boston Marathon and beyond.





My memoir, "Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility" is now available on Amazon.

"Wait, I have one more goal," Mary McManus told her personal trainer in February of 2008 shortly after coming out of her toe up leg brace. "I want to run the Boston Marathon for Spaulding Rehab Hospital." Mary traded in her polio shoes for running shoes and embarked on the journey of a lifetime. Mary McManus was at the height of her career as a VA social worker when she was told by her team at Spaulding Rehabilitation Hospital’s International Rehab Center for Polio in December of 2006 that she needed to quit her job if she had any hope of preventing the progression of post polio syndrome, a progressive neuromuscular disease. In “Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility” Mary takes you on her seven year healing odyssey as a survivor of paralytic polio and trauma from her diagnosis, to taking a leap of faith to leave her award winning career at the VA to heal her life and follow her passion as a poet and writer. You’ll experience her trials, tribulations and triumphs as she trains for and crosses the finish line of the 2009 Boston Marathon and discovers the opportunity for healing in the wake of new trauma: the suicide of her nephew in 2011, and the aftermath of the 2013 Boston Marathon bombings. This is Mary's journey of coming home to her human form free from the influences of the ghastly ghostly invaders who had invaded her sacred earthly home. Her memoir includes journals and blog posts from her seven year healing odyssey. This is her journey of transformation and her message of healing, hope and possibility.

I donate 50% of royalty payments through on line sales to The One Fund to help Boston Marathon survivors and their families. Copies are also available at Brookline Marathon Sports. $5 of each book sold at Marathon Sports is donated to The One Fund.

The Joy From The Other Side of the Line - Volunteering at the BAA 10K Kids Races - Part II

I've only been back on the roads since 4/15/13 after a two year running hiatus due to a relapse of post polio symptoms. It takes awhile to build back strength, endurance and speed and to learn what I need to do as an older runner living with a spinal cord injury and the after effects of severe trauma.

My first race volunteer experience was at the BAA Half with L Street in 2010. We stood in the Franklin Park Zoo directing runners to the trail that would take them ever closer to the finish line. It was an unseasonably hot day in October. We let runners know they were almost to the finish. I encouraged them to take in the majesty of the animals and to allow the sights and the sounds of the Zoo to carry them to finish strong.

After 4/15/13, I instinctively knew that I needed to be fully involved in the running community again. Being a spectator is awesome but I've never been one to sit on the sidelines.

I became #supportcrew for Boston Marathon training long runs and volunteer opportunities seemed to just come to me. I had a wonderful time doing the packet stuffing for the Boston Marathon with the sweet reward of being able to take the field at Fenway the Sunday before the Marathon for a Boston Marathon tribute. I did a water stop at the Run to Remember and bib pick up at Runners World Heartbreak Hill Half Marathon and Festival.

When I received the email from the BAA asking if I would volunteer for the BAA 10K, I knew it was an invitation for more than just another volunteer experience. When I received the email asking if I would change my volunteer assignment to the Kids Races, I had a feeling it was important for me to say yes.

Kids and parents flocked to the registration table. We had parents complete waivers, explained what would be happening and shared our enthusiasm for what they were about to experience. Some were back for a 2nd year; most were first timers. There was a mix of pre race anxiety and eager anticipation to participate in this event. In the distance, we heard the National Anthem and saw the waves of runners cross the starting line. I'm usually there to cheer on my husband and daughter but this year, there was a joy of a different kind.

When a mom came up with a little girl in a sling and shared that she had been so excited about running but broke her collarbone, we checked with the race director to make sure it would be safe for her to walk. The race director's mom, Colleen, said to her that next year she'd be back better than ever and would even know the course so she'd be able to run it really fast.

The moment that the little girl with her walker, out of breath yet filled with joy and determination came down to the finish line, my breath caught and Colleen and I were both overwhelmed with emotion. I shared with Colleen that I am a survivor of paralytic polio. "Oh so you know," she said. She suggested that perhaps there should be a special event for children with mobility impairment. I gently suggested that it is so important to have an event like this that is geared to kids of all levels and all abilities. I shared with her how wonderful it was for me to experience the 2009 Boston Marathon as a mobility impaired runner and how grateful I am to Dave McGillivray for creating an atmosphere of inclusion. I recommended The Last Pick.

Tom and Ruth Anne found me after they crossed their finish line. They saw the kids with their bibs and medals and shared in the joy of those who had finished their races.

It was time to head over to the finish line for the older kids' event.

The only time I have been in the finish line chute was as a runner. We showed our volunteer credentials and a finish line volunteer moved the barricades to let us through the chute.

How amazing to stand just a little beyond the finisher's mat and cheer on those who were finishing up their 10K with grit and determination. One woman with a pair of Canadian Crutches crossed with her Guide. Colleen mentioned to me that she always wanted to a guide for a visually impaired runner but didn't know how to get connected to the Guide community. I referred her to Team With a Vision and the Mass. Association for the Blind. She was delighted that she could give back in this way. I told her the story of Randy Pierce and The Mighty Quinn.

As the kids sprinted down Boylston Street to experience the thrill of crossing the finish line of a BAA event, I felt joy and gladness overflow in my heart. To be able to hand them their medals and congratulate them is a moment that shall forever remain imprinted in my heart.

I hope they will feel the same way about that moment!

There is a thrill to feel the energy at the starting line of a race and a sense of exhilaration and accomplishment crossing that finish line as a runner. But there's another way to feel a runner's high and that is through the joy from the other side of the line.





My memoir, "Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility" is now available on Amazon.

"Wait, I have one more goal," Mary McManus told her personal trainer in February of 2008 shortly after coming out of her toe up leg brace. "I want to run the Boston Marathon for Spaulding Rehab Hospital." Mary traded in her polio shoes for running shoes and embarked on the journey of a lifetime. Mary McManus was at the height of her career as a VA social worker when she was told by her team at Spaulding Rehabilitation Hospital’s International Rehab Center for Polio in December of 2006 that she needed to quit her job if she had any hope of preventing the progression of post polio syndrome, a progressive neuromuscular disease. In “Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility” Mary takes you on her seven year healing odyssey as a survivor of paralytic polio and trauma from her diagnosis, to taking a leap of faith to leave her award winning career at the VA to heal her life and follow her passion as a poet and writer. You’ll experience her trials, tribulations and triumphs as she trains for and crosses the finish line of the 2009 Boston Marathon and discovers the opportunity for healing in the wake of new trauma: the suicide of her nephew in 2011, and the aftermath of the 2013 Boston Marathon bombings. This is Mary's journey of coming home to her human form free from the influences of the ghastly ghostly invaders who had invaded her sacred earthly home. Her memoir includes journals and blog posts from her seven year healing odyssey. This is her journey of transformation and her message of healing, hope and possibility.

I donate 50% of royalty payments through on line sales to The One Fund to help Boston Marathon survivors and their families. Copies are also available at Brookline Marathon Sports. $5 of each book sold at Marathon Sports is donated to The One Fund.

An Open Letter to Dave McGillivray - Book Review - The Last Pick - "Set Goals Not Limits"

"The guy who stands 5-foot-4 dares to stand apart. he challenges others to do the same in their lives, whatever their dreams may be." Barry Scanlon, the Lowell Sun, March 29, 2000 in "The Last Pick"


Dear Dave,

The first time I saw you, you seemed larger than life to me. I was seated among the charity runners for the 2009 Boston Marathon. You were telling us everything we needed to know and more about running the Boston Marathon. If only I had read "The Last Pick" before I heard you speak, my anxiety would not have reached an all time high about running Boston. You reassured us that you were the last person to cross the finish line, but all I could focus on was the course closed at 6 hours and a thousand other things we were being told that made me wonder if perhaps I was out of my league. In "Last Pick", I could feel your desire to give others a chance to achieve their goals. Your deep compassion that was borne out of your own experiences as being the last pick and told you can't or you weren't ... over and over again was palpable on the pages of your book.

After that meeting, I told my coach and personal trainer, Domenick D'Amico that I was really anxious about completing the course in 6 hours along with the toll that waiting for the start would take on me since I am a survivor of paralytic polio and live with post polio syndrome, the late effects of paralytic polio. He was surprised that I hadn't registered as a mobility impaired runner with an early start. All it took was a phone call to Barbara Sicuso and a letter from my physician to give me the chance I needed to ensure a memorable Boston Marathon experience.

The next time I saw you was at the mobility impaired start of the 2009 Boston Marathon. You gave us the oral command to begin, "Runners take your mark, get set, go." As I wrote about in my People Who Are Boston Stronger blog featuring you, I was starstruck to be standing next to the race director for the Boston Marathon and having him give us the start of our 2009 Boston Marathon run. It didn't matter that there was an entire race to orchestrate and command. He was totally focused and present in that moment. We were all that mattered to him.

And that's who Dave McGillivray is.

Seven hours and 49 minutes later, Team McManus crossed the finish line of the 113th Boston Marathon and we raised $10,535 for Spaulding Rehab Hospital where I took the first steps on my healing journey. Because of your dedication and commitment to helping others discover what is possible for themselves, I was able to leave behind my identity as "easy out Alper", the last pick; a woman confined, defined and limited by her identity as a survivor of paralytic polio and trauma on the 26.2 mile course of the Boston Marathon. When I crossed the finish line, I was a woman transformed.

I had seen Katie Lynch's Boston Marathon run. As you so eloquently and compassionately explain it, for Katie to run 26.2 feet required the same amount of energy and effort that it takes an able bodied athlete to run 26.2 miles. You arranged for Katie to experience the thrill of a Boston Marathon run complete with a laurel wreath and medal. The love story between the two of you brought me to tears.

Although I certainly don't have anywhere near the level of challenges that Katie had, after reading, "The Last Pick," I am able to fuel compassion for myself for the effort I have to put forth when I run and honor and celebrate myself as an athlete.

I loved how you made sure that the men's marathon Olympian, who struggled through his race, experienced the thrill of breaking the tape as though he were the winner, defying the order to reroute the runners out of the Stadium in order to prepare for the closing ceremonies.

"I just didn't think it was in the true spirit of the Games to redirect this poor guy away from the Olympic Stadium and onto a grass field where about 10 people and 3 pigeons would be waiting for him. He was after all, an Olympian representing his country."

I got on the two way radio and instructed my team to ignore the order from above. We were going to send this guy into the stadium no matter what. I ran down the track and begged the band practicing for closing ceremonies instead to play a tune for this last lonely runner. They were happy to do it. Laborers were covering the track with tarp, and we asked them to rip up a section so the runner could go down one lane. I immediately looked around for a break tape and ripped up some white duct tape that was holding down TV cables. I asked a medical person for a black marker and hurriedly wrote "Atanta '96" on the tape. (Yes I misspelled Atlanta in my rush.) ... Without even the slightest hesitancy, we moved the Olympic road cones and redirected the last runner right past security and into the tunnel. He completed one lap and crossed the finish, breaking the tape I was holding. He collapsed in tears, as did all of us."

That Afghan runner gave all of us an opportunity to experience a true test of courage and athletic spirit. He finished, and I hope he felt a sense of accomplishment, no matter what the time clock said."

I laughed, I cried and was spellbound by your journey in life and on the roads.

There was an eerie foreshadowing about you being physically and mentally prepared for a catastrophic event. You were well prepared to meet the events of 4/15/13 with all of the conditions you created in your life as the book ends and you were looking ahead to the next 50 years of your life.

I had no idea how you felt about autographs until I read your book yet you graciously signed my copy of "The Last Pick" when you spoke at our pre race 2014 Boston Marathon meeting at L Street:

"I ran the 2009 Boston Marathon as a mobility impaired runner," I quietly said to you.

"You did? Good for you," was your reply and then you signed my book, "Set goals, not limits."

Your honesty, integrity, generosity and humility are rare qualities to find in a man who has achieved as much as you have achieved. You talk about the importance of having an ego in the chapter, "Ego Is Not a Four Letter Word". ""Ego" is simply my belief in my own abilities;its my level of confidence," you explain. Yet everything you do is to benefit others. You are deeply committed to offering an experience for everyone to achieve their personal best through DMSE events.

You mentioned how one of your favorite races is the Feaster Five. Mine too! At a 16 minute/mile pace, I was in the middle of the pack.

Out of your childhood angst of being the last pick, you have blessed so many lives through your charitable work and through your philosophy of putting on events.

The Last Pick is a treasure that captures the essence of who you are with all of your strengths and vulnerabilities. Reading about your journey fans the flames of my desire to set goals not limits while honoring and cherishing my own journey paved in part because of who you are and what you do.



I'm really excited to see how the next chapters of your life are written.

As you poignantly say as you end your book,

"If you run a race correctly, then you planned wisely and gave it everything, so that by the time you finish, you've given your all. At the end of my life, I'd like to think I gave everything I had and then some, right up until I simply run out of time."

With gratitude,
Mary




My memoir, "Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility" is now available on Amazon.

"Wait, I have one more goal," Mary McManus told her personal trainer in February of 2008 shortly after coming out of her toe up leg brace. "I want to run the Boston Marathon for Spaulding Rehab Hospital." Mary traded in her polio shoes for running shoes and embarked on the journey of a lifetime. Mary McManus was at the height of her career as a VA social worker when she was told by her team at Spaulding Rehabilitation Hospital’s International Rehab Center for Polio in December of 2006 that she needed to quit her job if she had any hope of preventing the progression of post polio syndrome, a progressive neuromuscular disease. In “Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility” Mary takes you on her seven year healing odyssey as a survivor of paralytic polio and trauma from her diagnosis, to taking a leap of faith to leave her award winning career at the VA to heal her life and follow her passion as a poet and writer. You’ll experience her trials, tribulations and triumphs as she trains for and crosses the finish line of the 2009 Boston Marathon and discovers the opportunity for healing in the wake of new trauma: the suicide of her nephew in 2011, and the aftermath of the 2013 Boston Marathon bombings. This is Mary's journey of coming home to her human form free from the influences of the ghastly ghostly invaders who had invaded her sacred earthly home. Her memoir includes journals and blog posts from her seven year healing odyssey. This is her journey of transformation and her message of healing, hope and possibility.

I donate 50% of royalty payments through on line sales to The One Fund to help Boston Marathon survivors and their families. Copies are also available at Brookline Marathon Sports. $5 of each book sold at Marathon Sports is donated to The One Fund.

#tbt Brookline Marathon Sports: My First Pair of Running Shoes & Celebrating National Running Day #thankfulthursday

After I told my personal trainer in February of 2008 that I wanted to run the 2009 Boston Marathon for Spaulding Rehab, she told me that I needed to get a pair of running shoes. She referred me to the Marathon Sports Brookline store about a mile from where we live. I had no idea what to expect. As a survivor of paralytic polio, buying shoes had always been somewhat traumatic for me. I had a completely different experience in buying my first pair of running shoes.

From my memoir, "Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility (I donate 50% of royalty payments through on line sales to The One Fund to help Boston Marathon survivors and their families. Copies are also available at Brookline Marathon Sports. $5 of each book sold at Marathon Sports is donated to The One Fund):

“What are you in now?” Spencer Aston asked me when I walked into Marathon Sports in February of 2008.

“Well, truth be told, I’m in ‘polio shoes.’ I borrowed these running shoes from my daughter. Let me give you the twitter version of my story.”

I told Spencer about my history of paralytic polio, my ‘remarkable recovery’ as was Spaulding’s tag line when I was a patient and how I was planning to run the Boston Marathon. He took so much time and care doing a gait assessment and working with me to find the perfect running shoes. We figured out that I needed an insert at my heel to ensure comfort.

Spencer spent at least 45 minutes with me trying on different shoes and figuring out what I needed to begin my running career.

My first pair of running shoes ever at the age of 53 years old were Nike Vomeros. They got me through months of grueling training through the New England winter of 2008/2009 and to the finish line of the Boston Marathon:



Fast forward to National Running Day 2014. I now wear Altra Intuition:



Tom and I briefly gathered at Brookline Marathon Sports Brookline-Run Group and headed out for our early start.

It was deceptively humid although there was a chill in the air. Tom and I treasured our time together to talk, to vent, to enjoy being outside and for me to train.

I printed out The Best Race Week 5K Workout from Active and plan to begin more formal speed work. Last night, I continued to race with imaginary competitors on our run as we had at Jamaica Pond on Memorial Day. It's my own version of Fartleks.

As we came down Beacon Street, members of the Run Club passed us. I tried to pace with a few of them and discovered that I am able to run without feeling pain in my right knee. Tom had to remind me to be mindful and not get swept away by the energy and excitement of running with the pack. The fartleks and pacing with other runners resulted in a -1.20 minute split on my last mile.



We socialized back at the store after the run. I was feeling the runner's high, the joy of being with the running community and a heart filled with gratitude. I paused for a moment to consider that I've come a long way from when I bought my first pair of running shoes at the store. The journey has been filled with uphills, downhills, forks in the road and twists and turns. But last night, I had the clear realization that I have transformed from a survivor of paralytic polio to being a runner. What a wonderful way to celebrate National Running Day - the place where my journey as a runner began.

Happy National Running Day!

Today I celebrate National Running Day! I woke up this morning to tweets and facebook posts feeling the joy and celebration that runs deep in the fiber of the running community.

Everyone runs for different reasons. Everyone has their own journey.

Mine began with the writing of a poem, "Running the Race." In December of 2006 I was diagnosed with post polio syndrome, a progressive neuromuscular disease. At that time, and in that poem, running became a metaphor for my life. Although I was in a leg brace and used a wheelchair at times for mobility facing a rather grim and uncertain future by all appearances, in my mind's eye I focused on winning a 10K race. I talked about being off of the sidelines and joining the human race having felt like an outcast because I was a survivor of paralytic polio and trauma. I imagined myself exceeding all expectations and that I now set the pace. Gratitude filled my heart even though I was told that I had to quit my job, adapt my home and prepare for a future in a wheelchair.

A shift happened within me from just thinking about and imagining myself running.

In February of 2008, my personal trainer asked me what my next goals were for my health and fitness journey. Oh I want to go outside and walk, I want to dance, I want to feel free in my body.

From my memoir, "Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility" (now available on Amazon with 50% of royalty payment proceeds being donated to The One Fund)

“Wait. I have one more goal.”

Janine stopped and turned around.

“I want to run the Boston Marathon for Spaulding Rehab Hospital. I know they have a Race for Rehab team and I want to do it next year.”

Janine was non-plussed. I don’t know what kept her from turning tail and getting as far away from me as she could. She came back into my house and put down her things. She said that the first thing I would need is a pair of running shoes. She told me that Marathon Sports on Beacon Street would be able to help me. She laid out a cursory training plan and said that we would begin indoors to build up my cardio endurance. As soon as the weather got a little warmer, we’d go outdoors and I would learn how to run.

While training for the 2009 Boston Marathon, I watched the 2008 Summer Olympics with a keen eye on the marathon event.

I wrote poetry to harness the power of visualization and to affirm my commitment to crossing the finish line.

I had one image that is still with me today from "Running with God" an article I wrote for Cape Healing Arts after running the 2008 Tufts 10K:

I had an image of my polio self and who I am today side by side in a huge bubble. As I ran, the distance lengthened between my polio self and who I am today until the bubble finally burst and I was free.

And speaking of God ....

When I run, I am grounded, strong and connected to the energy of the Earth. I also feel a connection to something far greater than me. I feel an expansiveness in my heart and in my soul. The Divine Energy of light, of love, of creation is palpable when I run. I feel a sense of joy even in the most challenging of runs. I find myself. Every time I go out on a run, I feel I find my way home to the essence of who I am. In "Running the Race" I wrote, "for the first time in life, I could truly be me."

Perhaps Dr. George Sheehan said it best when he wrote:

"The true runner is a very fortunate person. He has found something in him that is just perfect."

Happy National Running Day everyone!

Boylston Street

Right on Hereford, Left on Boylston Street - the holy grail of the Boston Marathon. You know you've arrived.

I remember the thrill of arriving at Hereford Street. I was cold, tired and knew I had a whopping blood blister on my foot but I didn't care. I knew that in just a few minutes, we'd be crossing the finish line of the 113th Boston Marathon.

Here's a photo of Team McManus coming down Boylston Street on 4/20/2009:



Our personal trainer, Janine Hightower is sporting the blue Spaulding Rehab t shirt. She ran us in from Heartbreak Hill and then would not cross the finish line with us saying "This is all yours."

Last year at 2:50pm there was no right on Hereford, left on Boylston Street for thousands of Boston Marathon runners.

Boylston St. was a place that I wanted to avoid but on 5/24th, as I scrolled through Facebook, I saw that there was going to be a #onerun.

From my memoir, "Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility."

“Oh look they are doing a #onerun tomorrow,” Tom said.

“I am terrified to be a part of that,” I answered.

“Then we have to register,” Tom said.
...

And then we were off crossing the one mile to go marker in Kenmore Square where four years ago, Tom, our daughter Ruth Anne and I ran toward the finish line. I ran the 2009 Boston Marathon for those who couldn't and for those who were told they shouldn't run or would never be able to run again. Back then I was delivering a message of healing, hope and possibility. Yesterday, I was one with the survivors knowing they have a long road ahead for them but knowing that they, like me, would be able to go the distance.

We got to Hereford Street and I took a deep breath, as I knew we were going back to the Mandarin Oriental Hotel and passing The Forum where the second bomb exploded. As we passed in front of the Mandarin, we stopped for a brief moment to give our thanks to the staff who ensured our safety. The two doormen who had been there on Marathon Monday while we watched the race before going upstairs to join the Spaulding Rehab party were there. How healing and wonderful to see them, express our gratitude and be back on a part of Boylston Street I was afraid to visit.

I told Tom I was ready to sprint to the finish line. I said a prayer as we ran by The Forum. I sobbed as the crowds were cheering and we were surrounded by runners with their bib numbers from Marathon Monday and thousands of people who had been touched by the tragic events of April 15. At the finish line we shared stories with one another. We hugged. We cried. We healed.



On the 11 month anniversary of the bombings, Tom and I returned to Boylston Street. We had lunch at the Mandarin.



We took a photo of the finish line and said we will come back before the marathon to take a photo of the freshly painted finish line.



Today I am going back to Boylston Street. I am going to the Boston Marathon Memorial Exhibit at the Boston Public Library. Tom and I are going to meet for dinner at Stephanie's on Newbury Street. We met the operations manager at the Marathon Sports Cambridge 5 Miler/3 Mile City Walk. He was four feet away from the first bomb and carried his girlfriend to his car parked behind Stephanie's and brought her to the hospital. They were able to save her leg.

On Saturday, Sports Illustrated has invited Bostonians to come out for a photo shoot to demonstrate the true meaning of Boston Strong.

"Boston Strong is a story about people, ordinary people doing extraordinary things, ordinary people doing ordinary things. SI's creative director, Chris Hercik, believed the best way to tell this story a year later was to bring all those people, or as many as possible, into a single photo at the finish line. If you look at last year's cover photo, you see all that empty space all the way down Boylston Street filled by smoke and that backdrop of chaos and destruction. This year's photo fills those spaces with the Bostonians who wrote the Boston Strong story."

My 2009 Boston Marathon Run: Domenick D'Amico

As I begin to plan my book launching party for "Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility" later this Spring



with Marathon Sports Brookline store manager, Ellen Gabriel, we decided it would be wonderful to plan it to coincide with the visit of my beloved coach and trainer, Domenick D'Amico. He made a promise at our first meeting of Spaulding Rehab's Race for Rehab team that he would get us to the starting line healthy and to the finish line with a smile.

He was true to his word.

Domenick planned out our long training runs complete with pit stops and water stops. He called the Wellesley Marathon Sports store to let them know we would be stopping there on our long run and to provide us with anything we needed. He was my champion letting me know that I would be able to finish the Boston Marathon.

Here he is sending us off on our last training run from the Marathon Sports Brookline store before Marathon Monday:



The Race for Rehab Team in Hopkinton:



and here I am at the finish line - smiling through tears of unbridled joy:



There is one story that I did not include in my memoir that I did share in my blog post, Getting a Head Start. We were at a fund raiser for Alison Eno-Ballbach who was the manager of Marathon Sports Brookline in 2009 and a champion of Team McManus. I call her my mother hen on the road to the Boston Marathon. I shared with Domenick that I was feeling really anxious about being able to finish before the finish line closed. He asked me, "Aren't you getting an early start?" I told him that we had thought about it but then thought that I did not meet the requirements of being a mobility impaired runner. He told me I did. The next day he called his contact at the BAA and told me that all I needed was a letter from my post polio doc to submit to the BAA to get an early start with the mobility impaired runners.

What relief I felt knowing that I would not have to wait for 2 1/2 hours in Hopkinton and that I would be able to enjoy my marathon day knowing I would make it to the finish line before it closed.

And on Marathon Monday he waited for us on Heartbreak Hill. As I said in my Acknowledgements:

Domenick D’Amico, beloved coach and trainer with the Race for Rehab Team, you promised to get us to the starting line healthy and to the finish line with a smile. You kept your promise. Thank you for mapping out our training runs every week and for standing on Heartbreak Hill waiting for us. The hug you gave me as you said, “Go get your medal” is forever imprinted on my heart.

Domenick was also a part of my Poetry in Motion celebration at Marathon Sports Brookline.

I feel so blessed and incredibly grateful that I will be able to celebrate the release of my memoir with Domenick by my side. Even though he lives in Colorado, his Spirit lives on in Boston. I often overhear conversations in Marathon Sports of people reminiscing about the Run Club when Domenick was in Boston. He was back in Boston for the 2010 Boston Marathon. We met on Heartbreak Hill that year. He told me that he struck up a conversation with a woman who told him she could never run a marathon. He told her my story beaming as he recalled how he got us to the starting line healthy and to the finish line with a smile.

He has been my beloved coach and trainer throughout these 5 years supporting me as I was on and off the roads letting me know that wherever I was was exactly where I needed to be.

In honor of National Poetry Month, I will be featuring poems I wrote on my road to the Boston Marathon which are included in A Celebration of Life.

Marathon Metamorphosis - May 7, 2008
Pounding pavement, feeling strength the journey now begun
training for the race of my life a 26.2 mile run.
Feeling God in every step in every beat of my heart
I undertake this challenge as a new chapter of my life I start.
I ran around in circles carrying baggage by the ton,
destination was survival hardened shell let in no one.
Fear and worry doubts prevailed, adrenaline in my veins
a headless horseman running wild no one to take the reins.
Stopping in my tracks I froze no longer could I move -
clawing, fighting had to cease there was nothing more to prove.
God's grace touched like a magic wand, a softness and a glow
emerging from a troubled past my blood began to flow.
Loving teachers lit the way their love a healing balm -
focusing on who I am now brings a sense of calm.
Stretching every muscle feeling God in every cell
wholeness now a blessing out of prison - no more hell.
The race is still a year away each day my dream I see
mind, body, spirit tuning turning toward the Voice of Thee.
Flexing what had once been stiff to brace against the pain
old habits die and I'm reborn to write a new refrain.

"Easy Out"

On Facebook yesterday, the inspirational John Young posted this:

Thinking back to elementary school I was trying to remember those "playground pick-em" games. Was I usually one of the last people picked? Of course I was. You know what though, I often remember the person who was 2nd last was usually more bummed than I was. Was being picked last a bad thing? Nope!! It taught me, you shouldn't get picked by who your friend is, you get picked on your merit. If speed and skill was important, I was down the list. It was a FACT. If people picked me because they felt sorry for me, what would that teach me? The important thing was to rotate who got to do the picking. And that's what I remember. I got to be the picker lots of times. And you know who I chose first? THE FASTEST KID! Thinking to today though, would I still be picked last where speed was concerned? You bet I would be. Would I be picked last where ENDURANCE is concerned? HECK NO!!

A powerful Facebook discussion followed about how so many of us internalized the experience of being chosen last for team sports. In my memoir, "Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility," I share the emotional and physical toll that contracting paralytic polio at age 5 had on my life. Those experiences along with 9 years of unrelenting physical, sexual and emotional abuse at the hands of family members could have broken me and it almost did over 7 years ago now.

But something inside of me called me to break out of those beliefs. Training for and running the 2009 Boston Marathon helped me move beyond the taunts and jeers of my youth. It helped me to connect with the Truth of who I am.

From my memoir, the article "Running with God" which appeared in Cape Healing Arts Magazine:

I felt God’s presence as a long forgotten childhood memory surfaced. Cries from my childhood of ‘easy out’, ‘we don’t want her on our
team,’ ‘what’s wrong with her anyway?’ melted away. I remembered the day in gym when we were playing kickball and the entire outfield moved in as they always did when I was up. All of a sudden, I connected with the ball and ended up kicking a home run because there was no one in the outfield! I decided that today was a day for another surprise. I told God I wanted my daughter to be proud of me.

We were in perfect physical and spiritual harmony. Our feet moved in perfect rhythm; we ran hills as we had during hill training sessions and coached each other during down hills. God’s presence was palpable and my Spirit transcended my physical body allowing me to sustain a pace I had never run before. I felt the energy and cheers from the crowd along with the prayers from friends I knew were praying for me that day.

As my daughter and I crossed the finish line, the clock read: 1:29 – but that was gun time…our actual time was 1:26 – four minutes under what we visualized as our goal for that day and a good one minute less per mile than we were hoping for! The magic and miracle of October 13, 2008 shall forever be an imprint on my Spirit!

We can either allow the beliefs instilled in us by others to rule our lives and pummel us until we lose faith and confidence in ourselves. Or we can take a good, hard look at those beliefs in the light of day and pummel them into extinction.

Some Thoughts on Courage

“You have plenty of courage, I am sure," answered Oz. "All you need is confidence in yourself. There is no living thing that is not afraid when it faces danger. The true courage is in facing danger when you are afraid, and that kind of courage you have in plenty.”
― L. Frank Baum, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz



The courage definition is traced back to the Latin "coraticum," meaning "heart." The heart is the core of the courage definition because it is the source from which the characteristics of courage emanate. Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/1534125



It's been almost 11 months since the Boston Marathon Bombings. The anniversary of 4/15/13 and then the 2014 Boston Marathon are right around the corner. I toyed with the idea of running this year's Boston for Spaulding Rehab for about a minute realizing that it would not be a good choice for me to train for another Boston Marathon but I knew I needed to do something to heal my broken heart from this event that shook us to the core.

I've been a part of support crew for L Street Running Club:





Co hosted Singing Boston Strong: Karis' Karaoke for a Kause:

There's Greg and me dedicating Born to Run to Karis' Boston Marathon run.

And I've helped to organize Greg Gordon's Boston Marathon Fund Raiser: Singing Boston Strong: An Evening of A Cappella to Benefit Spaulding Rehab happening on April 4:

On April 13th, we are volunteering to do packet stuffing for the B.A.A.

I know how blessed I was to not witness the carnage first hand and to be able to safely evacuate from the Mandarin Oriental Hotel. My heart is forever filled with gratitude for the courageous staff at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel who calmly led us through an evacuation route to the back of the hotel away from the explosions on Boylston Street.

Still the effects of the bombing are with me especially as we approach the anniversary and I prepare for Marathon Monday. Truth be told, the thought of going back to the Mandarin Oriental Hotel terrifies me. I have offered to help Spaulding Rehab on Marathon Monday because several members of their Development Office are running this year. There are 100 members of the Race for Rehab team and they will need all hands on deck at the reception.

I'm honored that I am a Spaulding Rehab Alum having run the 2009 Boston Marathon for Spaulding:

and that I am healthy and strong and able bodied to be able to volunteer on Marathon Monday.

But I'm still terrified and so I decided that what I need to do is go back to the Mandarin before Marathon Monday. I need to walk up the stairs where I once hobbled after running the 2009 Boston Marathon and where I walked with such excitement and joy for the first time since my Boston Marathon run last 4/15/13.

I need to walk into the suite where time stood still at 2:50pm and look out onto Boylston Street.

And I need to allow all of the emotions and sensations to wash over me as I along with hundreds of thousands of people prepare, with open and full hearts, to join together on 4/21/14 for the 118th running of the Boston Marathon.

The Joy of Running

Three years ago, if you would have told me that I'd be writing a blog today about the joy of running, I would have thought you were crazy! My running career began at the age of 53 and I thought it was a short lived running career because of the late effects of paralytic polio. On my seven year healing odyssey, I realized that it was not just the late effects of paralytic polio that took a toll on me mind, body and spirit, but 9 years of unrelenting trauma.

I moved mountains with a mustard seed of faith and trained for and ran the 2009 Boston Marathon as a mobility impaired runner.


I had a "relapse". I went back into outpatient rehab and returned to the roads with a vengeance in 2010. By 2011, and in the wake of my nephew's suicide on 3/4/11, I crashed again.

On 4/15/13, we had to evacuate from the Mandarin Oriental Hotel where we were watching the 2013 Boston Marathon with Spaulding Rehab's Race for Rehab team and get to our car about 3 miles from the Hotel.

Tom and I went on to do the #onerun on 5/25th and I realized that it was time for me to return to running and the running community. I learned that once you are a member of the running community, you are always a member of the running community even if you are not able to be out there running.

It was hard work to begin again and train for the Brookline Symphony Orchestra 5K on 9/29.


Seven months later, I am feeling the joy of running a 5K distance. I'm planning to run the Tufts 10K in October and 5-7 miles challenges me but doesn't overwhelm me. As I said in "Find Your Distance", find and celebrate your distance.

By not putting any pressure on myself to run beyond a 10K distance, and by signing up for mostly 5K races, I can feel the joy and magic of running. I enjoy being outdoors again and feeling the joy of moving with relative ease in my body yet I can also experience the joy that comes with a challenge like running on Heartbreak Hill, increasing my distance up to a 10K and working on my time. As the days get warmer and the earth comes back to life after a long, brutal New England winter, I feel the joy of Spring returning. I know how blessed I am to once again be able to experience the joy of running!

44 Days Until Boston

From my soon to be released memoir, "Coming Home: A Memoir of Healing, Hope and Possibility":

We woke up early on April 15, 2013. You would have thought we were running the Boston Marathon again. Tom and I had a ‘perfect’ morning together enjoying the coverage on WBZ TV and leisurely making our way to the Mandarin Oriental Hotel for a reunion with some of our Race for Rehab team members. Although I grew up in New York, I called Boston home since 1971 when I began my freshman year at Boston University. Following numerous orthopedic surgeries when I hobbled around on crutches, I would often joke, “No I’m not going to run the marathon this year, maybe next year.” Be careful what you say out loud to the Universe.

Through the years, Tom and I would stand on Hearbreak Hill cheering runners and we knew about the Boston Marathon legends. Did I ever in my wildest imaginings believe that one day I would cross the finish line of the Boston Marathon and at the age of 55 years old? I think not but on April 20, 2009, I did just that as a mobility impaired runner.





After my nephew's suicide in March of 2011 and Tom's 2011 Boston Marathon run, I distanced myself from the running community. I did not feel well enough to run again and I thought my running days were over. We watched the 2012 Marathon from Cleveland Circle in the searing heat waiting for friends but I had lost my emotional connection to the race and to the part of myself that ran Boston. It was a metaphor for what was happening inside of me as the years of unrelenting trauma and residuals from paralytic polio were taking a toll.

But last year I was ready to rejoin my Race for Rehab teammates at the Mandarin Oriental last year.

The fabric of the running community has never been stronger. I am blessed to be a part of the Spaulding Rehab "family" and to call myself a Race for Rehab alumni.

Last night I attended the Feeney Sisters Run Boston Fundraiser at Doyle's in Jamaica Plain. I 'met' Margo and Julie through the Race for Rehab team on Facebook and when I saw their fund raising page, I just knew Tom and I were meant to be at their fund raiser. They really do put the fun in fun(d) raiser. They had a Heartbreak Hill pinata and this beautiful cake:



They asked me if I would say a few words about what Spaulding has meant to me. As I shared how 7 years ago I was in a wheelchair, and went on to run Boston for Spaulding in 2009, I could see one woman's jaw literally drop open. She also held onto her partner standing next to her as I shared the "twitter version" of my journey. I shared how I did not have another marathon in me and I am so grateful to the Feeney Sisters for running Boston this year. I said that we would be there to welcome them back to the Mandarin after they cross the finish line. I also gave them a tip of the hat for training through this grueling cold New England winter.

Ever since I came to Boston in 1971, the Boston Marathon has, in one way or another, been a huge part of my life but has never been more a part of my life than this past year. In reading Bill Rodgers book, "Marathon Man"



I have an even deeper appreciation and understanding of the history of the Boston Marathon.

There is a sense of anticipation, nervousness, excitement, fierce determination and a community filled with love as we countdown the days to Boston. The sun is getting warmer, The days have more daylight. The birds are singing louder and stronger. The runs are getting longer for those training and I delight in being support crew. A little over a month until the anniversary of 4/15/13 but only 44 days to go until we take back this City and show how we ARE Boston Strong!