Where to begin? Let’s begin with my mother. The day before the race Mom sends me an e-mail.

I’ll be thinking of you tomorrow!!!! Lots of love and support!!!
Sent from iPatti

Her iPad turned iPatti is always spewing out love and support. So I sent in return…

Thanks. This is a walk in the park compared to what you endured. Thanks for the motivation!
Sent from my iPhone

Mom just found out she is Cancer free for another year. Phew! So in my mind the goal was to finish because no matter the hardship endured on this blistering Boston afternoon surely could not compare to the countless Radiation and Chemo sessions while fighting to “kick Cancer in the Nuts.” as my friend Tom Patania so eloquently states.

Arrived in Boston Sunday. Saw some friends at the airport. In fact I was able to get on the earlier flight with my roomy Tom and bumped into a few other folks I know like Mark Ippolito (below). Then I sat on the plane next to Tim Rhodes, race director of the Charlotte ThunderRoad Marathon, and owner of the Run For Your Life stores.

Super Smart neurologist Mark Ippolito

The expo was fun and we saw Desi and a few others including the infamous EX-Charlottean gone fast guy… Jay Holder with his bride Lauren. But, No photo If you have a moment.. read that guys recap as it is clearly from a guy that paid attention in English class and ran a brilliant race. As for me and this post, I was one of the strongest PE students in my graduating class.

This is my "pretending to be excited about the weather forecast" pose.

Back to the Hotel with Tom and then out for a bite that evening with none other than K-Ballz, Kevin Ballantine.

Kevin calling ambulance

We, or I, ate while Kevin watched at the Atlantic Fish Company in order to keep the streak alive. I have eaten there in all of my past Boston Marathons and even got the same dish each time. The Sesame Tuna steak rare sub white rice and bring on the Boc Choy! Sunday night in Boston tradition has been firmly established with a hat trick on this plato del dia. We then headed out to the finish line to practice some finishing photos Ninja Kick Style. Then back to the hotel and in bed by 9:30pm.

Weather or not you care…

I like to run marathons with a temperature between 40-50 degrees… Normally I can go back thru a race and see from the splits on my watch exactly where the temperature rose to 10-15 degrees.

Soooooo, going into this 116th Boston Marathon, my 3rd, it was something of a big fat question mark because the starting temperature was set to be in the mid 70’s and climbing to the 80’s. The stage was set for a heart wrenching, thirst quenching, journey to Boston, hopefully.

In fact the BAA sent two e-mails that would make anyone second guess their intention of appearing in the Boston Globe as a finisher the next day because they could very well end up in the Boston Globe under the obituaries column instead. Here is some language from their final email wishing us all good luck and sweet dreams on Sunday afternoon.

Remember unless you are acclimated to weather condition forecasts for Monday, you should not run.

And it went on to say that unless you can see the Egyptian Pyramids from your back porch or you had any part in building the Panama Canal then you should most likely defer your race registration. However, the only catch was that in order to qualify for the deferment you had to pick up your race packet then NOT run. So basically, fly to Boston and get a hotel then go to the Red Sox game instead of torturing yourself for 26.2 miles in the inferno of an April afternoon.

My mind was made up before the start. One goal = Finish. You see, I cannot get a hall pass from my wife (while leaving two kids behind) then travel to Boston for a race and not come home with any bling. Does this sound Ludacris? Well, I had done it before and this time it was just going to be about the finish.

So after a night of ninja kicks from the start line we awoke and were ready to make our way to the buses for the 6am departure. Luckily, my traveling partner and legal counsel Tom Ricks and I met up with Kevin “K-Ballz” Ballantine & Justin “TrySports Bredaddy” Breland in the bus line.

The bus ride was not your typical 26+ mile drive to the start line. The theme of the trip for me was Over Excited and Under Trained.. as we had a girl next to us break up our party and ask if we were still drunk from last night as we seemed to be acting like a bunch of grade school kids in a school bus?!?!

Here is the exclusive video footage from the bus of the one on one interview with Justin Breland giving a final rundown on the epic duel between the guy that stole his name Justin vs Justin in Boston 2012. In case you are unaware of the rivalvry, you might want to see this video first.

As for the girl next to us she was intent on showing of her Kentucky sarcasm so we had some nice back and forth jabs unitl finally I shut her up with a “I’m sorry is that your bib number or your zipcode on your race bag” because she had a 5 digit bib number..

Typical schoolyard banter. If you look closely you will see a guy next to her on the left…

This guy who happens to be from Peru, Paulo, and lives in California but we pretended he didn’t speak any English and this was very funny to watch Justin speak Spanish to him while he played along. Hola, Me gusta correr…

We finally arrived in the mildly warm/cool Hopkinton at approx 730am with nearly 2.5 hours until the GUN.

The regular Miagi style Ninja kicks became somewhat boring so Kevin and I tried to mix it up pre-race and throw in some roundhouse kicks but the photographer is obviously a bit unpracticed in the Dojo Photo business.

In the process of looking for the bagdrop I began randomly propostioning the volunteers for their hat. I left no less than 15 hats in my car and now you could already feel the sun beating down and we hadn’t even began to run. I was getting anxious. My neck was getting hot, this was going to be ugly.

The volunteers laughed at my proposal of $20 for their hat and so I began upping the anty and randomly said aloud, $40 for your hat, who can sell me their hat?

When out of nowhere a bald guy of all people that was just a spectator but definitely a runner said “hey man here you go.. “no need to pay me.” Was he for real? I could have kissed his bald head and jumped into his tall 6’2” frame for a bear hug but instead I just gave an incredibly over extended gtratuitous smile and quickly got back on task to finding the bagdrop for my bib number which was 684 if I hadnt mentioned before.. Eh hum.. cough.  made my way on the .7 mile walk to start line.

Just in case you didn't notice my bib number

I also was glad to see the renown Allen Strickland before the race as he was waiting in a very long line to get a photo at the famous Hopkinton sign.. “It all starts here.. For an epic story of determination, grit, and raw courage.. Check out his recap here. He tempted fate by naming his blog about this day which had presented something to write about for sure!

I stumbled upon fellow WhyMarathon Ambassador team members Tim & Katie in the process. Tim pretended he was going to take it easy and ended up running a gritty race!!!

Then meandering thru the maze of buses as the clock was nearing 9:30am and only 30 minutes to GUN TIME, I had lost my traveling bus companions and happened upon Adam Mayes, Kathy Rink and Clint from the DART run club.

Then made my way on the walk to start line. Chatting with Kathy and Adam along with Clint about how over excited and under trained we were for the race, well I guess I can speak for myself in this regard.

Upon our arrival at the starting corrals and after a stop along the way to lather up on sunscreen provided by the neighbors of Hopkinton from their front porch.. I spotted “Claydaddy” Clayton Venhuizen and we chatted goal times and temperatures and clearly lied to each other while still in denial of both..

I stopped at a TV camera and began my commentary as if I was BoB Costas reporting from the booth on the hot day and 30th annivaersary of the famed Duel in The Sun .. the neews anchor returned from the bathroom and asked “hey man are you trying to steal my job?” but clearly he was joking, just as I was joking about running this race..

Spotted Ricks on my to the corral like a giraffe at the zoo as his head was popping out of the 2nd corral about 6 inches above the competition. Finally in the 1st corral I used my empty water bottle to relieve myself of my overhydration panic from the previous 2 hours in the athletes village.. I saw Nathan Stanford repping the WhyMarathon singlet and looking dialed in and focused..

Me, Nathan, Derrick, Kevin

Then by chance some guy came up to me and asked where I got my hat.. it was from his running club in Canada.. I told him the story and he said, Oh thats John Von Anchor, he is a great guy.. and so i told him to relay the thank you and I would surely find him on FB and send him the hat back with another perhaps..  It’s a small world especially in the marathoning community…

But then I got nervous… The rockets red glare and my stomach was bursting with despair. I was at the start of the race in the very front and I had about 20000+ runners behind me that could clearly trample me especially since my goal time this year was indicative of the 6th or 7th corral.. what was I doing in the 1st corral.. What was I doing in the 1st Wave for that matter.. As my training had been well, slightly interrupted.. I think I just wanted to feel it. Breathe it. Live it. and dance among the fastest in the world for a moment.. I had been in the 3rd corral my first Boston and the 2nd corral on my second Boston.. I was jealous of friends that could actually see the elite athletes depart from the Church and toe the line 10 minutes before GUN. So I pee’d with them and then quickly retreated to the back of the 2nd corral for a buffer on the stampede that might run me down or even worse.. coerse me into running outside of my current fitness level for the 1st few miles..

And we are off.. watch says 6:50 per mile shit.. I pulled back and was content with 7:15 for the first few miles.. GETTING PASSED by the masses.. over – under -around – between – and through – they were keeping me cool with the breeze created from the vroooom as they passed.. I picked my head up at Mile 3 before the 5K mark and there was a guy filming with a video camera whle he was running. I quickly turned into a news anchor and began giving him the play by play.. then I helped video him for his race… while being filmed he said something to the effect of, “Well, here we are at mile 3 and I am feeling good, it’s hot but I think we are going to be ok.” Of course, I then pulled the camera in for a headshot of me saying, “Clearly the heat has already begun to take affect and he has become delusional.” Cut.

Then I pretty much hovered between 7:15 and 7:30 PER MILE for the next 10K or so… Occasionally I would get swept up in a cheering crowd or splashing fire hydrine resulting in a low 7 minute pace but I tried my best to keep it honest while lying to myself.

Mile 11 was when I realized I was not going to set any records this day.. Well, I guess I did set a record for Personal Worst Marathon but the site of a man being carted off by EMS made me rethink the entire race in terms of – What am I trying to prove? & How much do I love my family? I began a routine of walking at every mile.. then I began walking at the water stops as well. It turns out I am a very fast walker. I walked the entire 19th mile at 13:49 per mile pace before the college students began to yell at me so loud I am became frightened for my safety and returned running.

BAA set up water tunnels like this

It was hot. I was unfit. The combination made my fat hurt. Really, at one point I felt the extra 15 lbs in my gut actually hurt while running?!?!? I’m not sure how to process this information but I think I will take it as a sign to back off of the Chicken Wings that I have become so accustomed to as of late. :p

The rest is history.. Run, Walk, Run.. thru countless water hoses, sprinklers, and screaming fans as they handed out ice, oranges, and popsicles along the way.. I was done.

Mile 25 comes to mind because I saw this building. This would be the Prudential Center… from Mile 25 it looks like it is nearly a dozen miles away. It was a cruel joke really because for a second you think you are done but as least it was the final mile.

Finally I was able to muster up enough energy to jog it home on Boylston because I was not going to be barked at anymore my the cheering Boston crowd for taking walk breaks in the heat. Gratefull to have enough “kick” at the end to make my Dojo proud.

Hats off to the 4,5,6 hour+ marathoners. I feel like I got my money’s worth on this one. Perhaps I am doing it all wrong, in terms of paying for a 90 minute massage as opposed to a 60 minute massage.. Why am I in such a hurry to finish? At $150 per registration, I got about 37 dollars an hour worth of screaming fans and moments that I will never forget as much as I may try.

And then I finished.. 4:02  Great race! To finish is to win on this day in Boston. Never thought I would be so proud of a 4 hour marathon.