This is my account of what actually happened at the end of the race; ( warning: this is another long post)

I think it started around mile 20 as we were descending into downtown Boston. The winds kinda whipped up out of nowhere and within a matter of minutes the temperature must have fallen 20 degrees…. I was freezing! It was then that I started to feel a noticeable change in my breathing . My lungs were getting progressively tighter anyway because it had been more than 6 hours since Id had a neb treatment, but now I was starting to audibly wheeze, which I rarely do, even when I do marathons. I remember I was also air-trapping pretty bad, so I had to purse-lip non-stop for the rest of the race to prevent it from getting worse.

We had now been walking non-stop for nearly 7 hours and as we approached the last mile, I remember telling Mike that my inhaler just wasn’t cutting it anymore and that I would definitely need a neb treatment once we finished the race. No problem I thought, since I had my portable neb machine in my belongings bag, which Mikes crew were holding for me in the finish area. I knew that I was probably in for a long night of bad breathing, but I figured once I got a good deep neb treatment into my lungs, that it would at least take the edge off enough ,where Id be able to enjoy some the post race activities.

30 minutes later at 4:31 pm, we finally crossed the finish line. For a few brief moments I was in heaven. I couldn’t believe what I (we) had just done. We had just finished a race that most runners only dream of…. We finished the Boston Marathon! I was very short of breath and wheezy , but I had finished the race in under the time limit and I was very proud of myself.

Well, not even 10 seconds had passed since we crossed the finish and I was still in a daze on cloud nine, when one of the medical people intercepts me and says ..” You don’t look so good…buddy!”. I told him that we were the two lung impaired guys who did the marathon and that it was pretty normal for me to flare-up a little after a race. ( Mike and I both looked pretty trashed from the race and both of us were huffing and puffing, so I’m not exactly sure why they singled me out as the one who needed medical attention.) So, anyway, this person put his arm around my shoulder and insists that I take a few moments to rest in the medical tent and get checked out by one of the Nurses. I tried again to reassure this guy that it was no big deal and that I would be fine. The guy just wouldn’t take no for an answer. He whispered in my ear ( I’m not sure why) ..” I’m an asthmatic too” ” just let us check you out to make sure everything is OK”. Finally, but reluctantly, I agreed to go to the medical tent to get checked out. By this time, I was starving. I had been awake for 12 hours, and had just walked 26.2 miles with only water and a little Gatorade. All I wanted to do… was eat and take a breathing treatment . He then walks me to the tent , leaving Mike to wait outside.

The Tent

The scene inside the tent was pretty disturbing. There were runners sprawled out on cots everywhere, some with IVs going. There were people vomiting, others moaning and growing , some in ace bandages. It looked more like a MASH unit than a marathon medical tent. There was staff running all over the place , bumping into each other, shouting out medical stuff. They had Nurses, paramedics and even Firemen carrying people out on stretchers…It was really pretty gruesome.
The second I set foot there, they took down my personal info and then escorted me to a triage area where they took my vital signs, listened to my lungs and hooked me up to a couple of machines that measured my O2 sats and my exhaled CO2 levels. And that’s …..when the nightmare began!

All of a sudden the triage Nurse who’s taking my vitals, stands up and starts yelling for a doctor. (Apparently she was a little shocked at my numbers). My O2 sat was 85%, my Resp rate in the 30-40’s, My ETCO2 was 45 and I was wheezing up a storm. I tried to tell them , that this was just a minor flare-up, not a big deal, and that the numbers were not that bad for me and could I please just have a neb treatment and be on my way.
Well, from that point on, things just got worse. Before I knew it, a couple of big burly paramedics picked me up under the arms and put me in a wheel chair. They then wheeled me over to a section of tent that was set up like a mini emergency room. From there, they proceeded to CUT ( yes you read correctly…CUT) my shirt off. At this point, I had had enough of all this crazyness and told them, .PLEASE…. JUST LET ME GO..I”M OK! I’ll BE FINE!
Well, that only made things worse. “let us help you!” they kept saying. “Your very sick”. I told them again”This is no big deal! I always wheeze! ” A few minutes later the head doctor comes over and says, ” your numbers look terrible!”( meaning my vitals). And then she proceeds to ask me the dreaded intubation question….”Have you ever been intubated for your asthma? ” ( they always ask you that question if you appear too calm during an attack). I should have said no, but they would have eventually found out which would have made things worse in the long run. reluctantly I shook my head YES. Then, at about the same time as there trying to put an IV in me, one of the Nurses sees the medical ID bracelet on my left wrist , turns to the doctor and starts shouting…. “He’s had multiple intubations!! “He’s had Multiple Intubations !” The doctor then asks ..”How many times have you been intubated?” and finally she asked.. “When was the last time you were intubated?”
Well, that pretty much sealed my fate.

While all this is going on, Poor Mike didn’t have a clue what I got myself into . Finally , about 15 minutes into this ordeal, they agreed to let Mike come in to see me. As soon as he came in , they started asking him for my emergency contact phone numbers(mind you, I’m sitting right next to him, but they are convinced that I’m too short of breath to talk.) By this time, the exhaustion of the race was starting to catch up with me and all the drugs that they shooting me up with were actually making me feel worse.
The doctor comes back and tells me its too risky to release me, that I need to go to the Hospital . I tried to refuse treatment, but before I knew it, they had loaded me into the ambulance and I was already in route to Boston general. I could here the paramedics radioing in my condition to the hospital, which seemed to be much worse than I actually felt. It was like they were talking about another person and I was just there observing. Don’t get me wrong, the paramedics and were awesome, I just don’t think my condition warranted a code 3 trip to the ER.

The ER

So we arrive at Boston Mass General ER and they wheel me straight into a trauma resuscitation room, where once again, they proceed to try and cut off my clothes off! (What’s up with these scissor happy people?) I did not want my race shirt and Bib destroyed, so I grabbed the hand and told them to stop..”I’ll take my clothes off…thank you very much! “You don’t have to destroy them!”
It was like I was invisible or something. They didn’t listen to me at all. I think they assumed that because of my medical history ,that my symptoms were making me talk crazy. They were convinced that I would crash and burn.

It’s now been about an hour since this nightmare began , and I was pretty much resigned to the fact that they were not going to let me leave , so I basically gave up on trying to plea my case.
I figured Ok , your in an Emergency Room of a very busy hospital . No big deal, you’ve been though this a million times, don’t get overly stressed about it. Just let them do what they think is right.

During my 6 hours in the ER , I ended up getting 10 nebs treatments driven with Heliox ( why they just didn’t put me on a continuous neb, I don’t know), 2 epis, a couple bags of mag sulfate, 125mg Solumedrol and a short stint of Bipap, which I did not want. I hate BIPAP anyway, and for the short time I was on it, it made me feel worse.
I ended up ripping the mask off several times , which pissed off the Respiratory therapist. Obviously annoyed because I wouldn’t behave a like a good little asthmatic. She whispers to the ER resident ( right in front of me as if I wouldn’t hear her) …” can you give him something for anxiety, he keeps taking the mask off” Duh.. of course I’m anxious. You would be too if couldn’t breath and someone was trying to suffocate you with a Bipap mask! She should have known that you never place a tight asthmatic on a Bipap machine unless you bleed in continuous Albuterol at the same time. The airflow from the Bipap can cause turbulence in the airway leading to even more bronchospasm.

After a few more hours of back to back neb treatments, I could feel the exacerbation starting to break. I was breathing a little better now and I figured the worse part of the attack was over….but of course it was too late. They had already loaded me up with a ton of IV steroids and I knew from experience , that they would probably admit me to the hospital.The only question was, would it be to the Intensive Care Unit or a regular hospital room. After pleading my case to the admitting doctors, they reluctantly agreed to my request to the lessor of the two evils. They would send me to a regular medical floor for now, but I would have to remain NPO ( nothing by mouth), and if my symptoms flare-ed up again, Id have to go to ICU. They told me that I could start eating tomorrow if my breathing improved.

I then had to wait another 2 hours for a bed to become available, as the hospital was full ( probably from other marathoners…lol). As I waited to be transferred to my room, I remember feeling so alone and so depressed. I felt like I had been robbed of the post race glory. I walked my ass off to finish this marathon, I never had a chance to get my medal….. and now I’m in prison and Im starving to death. Later that night after complaining about being so hungry, they started a IV , assuring me that this would provide all the nutrition I would need.

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Try to put yourself in my position. Its 11 pm , 7 hours after I crossed the finish line. I’m in a dark dingy hospital room . Nobody knows where I am at , except Mike. I’m hesitant to call my partner, my friends or my doctors, cuz I don’t want to hear the…I -told-you-so’s . What started out as the happiest day of my life has turned into a nightmare. I just completed the most incredible race ever, I’m hungry, I don’t feel well, I have no clothes with me except for my shorts and a thin shirt, I have a hotel room that I need to check out of and a flight to catch tomorrow. All I want is to eat, to get my medal and go back to my hotel and to forget this ever happened. Yeah, I think this would tend to make anyone a little anxious.

The following morning a wonderful Social Service person by the name of Danielle, came into see me and helped me arrange my hotel check-out and the transport of my luggage over to the hospital. She also convinced American Airlines to waive the $150.00 change fee for my return flight back home. A little later that afternoon, I received a call from a Boston Globe reporter asking me if I ever got my medal. Word must have gotten out that I ended up in the hospital before receiving my medal, and this reporter wanted to know if that was true. He gave me some contact numbers for the BAA, which I had my Partner, Douglas follow -up on .
Within 2 hours, I had my medal. The BAA had it delivered it directly to my hospital room. Finally… things were looking up for me I thought. At least now, I would be returning home with my medal….(Thanks BAA )

Over the next 5 days ,my symptoms would wax and wane from mild to severe , and every morning when the interns , residents and attending physician would make their 5 second appearance, I would try to convince them that I was well enough to travel…only to be told ” No.. you’re not ready”. I tried to explain to them over and over again , that I was not your typical asthmatic and that I was breathing well enough to fly back to California, and that if I had any problems I would seek help at the other end when I arrived in San Francisco. They refused, telling me that not only would I be putting my own life at risk, but also those on the airplane if they had to divert in mid flight because of my asthma….Oh brother, make me feel guilty now. As a consolation though, they assured me that when the time was right, that I would be discharged in a manner that would coincide with a return flight of my earliest choice.

Finally, on the morning of Friday April 24th, they gave in and deemed that I was well enough to fly home. Their decision to discharge me seemed to be based solely on a single peak flow reading of 300 , that I blew for them that morning, but that was fine with me, I just wanted to get out of there. So, they gave me approval to book my flight home. Great I thought , this nightmare is finally going to end…….WRONG.

I immediately called American Airlines to reschedule my return flight and thanked them for waiving the change fee that they had agreed to earlier. The only problem was, the only flights they had leaving that day would cost me an additional $450.00 ,bringing the total cost of this one-way ticket to over $1,000. No way was I going to pay this, so I went online to United Airlines ( who I usually use) and managed to get a one way ticket for a $120.00 ,departing early the next morning. By using some of my United frequent flier miles , I was also able to upgrade the ticket to First Class. So, I end up throwing away a $500.00 ticket on American Airlines, but at least I’m going home .

2o clock that afternoon, a different, not so kind Social worker comes to my room and tells me that Ive been discharged from the Hospital and that I have to get out….pronto! What?? I was told, that I would not have to leave until just a few hours before my plane was scheduled to depart. I tried to explain the circumstances of the past 5 days, but she wouldn’t listen, or she wasn’t interested. I told her that earliest flight I could get was leaving at 6 am tomorrow morning and that, while I was feeling better, I was definitely too sick to be camping out an airport over night. She leaves and then 5 minutes later returns to my room and hands me a list soup Kitchens and Flop houses in the Boston area ! I said..” are you serious?” By this time of course, my blood is boiling and I’m demanding to see the physicians, the Nursing supervisor…anyone with authority. An hour goes by, when the head resident finally comes in and precedes to tell me that he (they), never guaranteed to discharge directly to the airport, but insisted that what he (they) actually meant, was that they would not discharge without a roof over my head. I told them ..” NO! that’s not what you told me” “You assured me I would be discharged at the time of my flight” . Since I wasn’t able to book a flight until you told me I could leave, how the hell did you expect me to get a flight out on just a couple hours notice”
Talk about using loose terms… The bottom line is they flat out LIED to me. They were in need of the bed and wanted me out of there.

Thank god I had a witness (s) to what they had originally told me. After arguing with the head resident for almost a half hour, I finally had him get on the phone where my partner read him the riot act. Doug had reminded him that he had received several calls from the other doctors, assuring us that I would be discharged directly to the airport at the time of my flight.
Anyway, long story short and without admitting that they had lied to me, they did a 360 , and agreed not to formally discharge me until 3 hours before my flight.

The following morning at 2am sharp, the night float came by and formally discharged me. After taking a shower and getting dressed, I was wheel chaired downstairs to the lobby and out the front door, where I caught a waiting cab to the airport.
8 hours later I was back in San Francisco. I loved Boston, but I was really glad to be home in familiar surroundings again.

Final thoughts

The physical stress of walking or running 26 miles , can do strange things to ones brain. It could very well have been that I was very sick and didn’t know it. In any event, I know that most of these people meant well and had my best interest at heart. They were obligated to take the actions that they did , but I understand my disease better than anyone, and after living with it for 54 years, I think I know when I require a lengthy hospital stay and when I don’t. Situations like this are very disruptive to my life and cause me a lot of unneeded stress.. not to mention the financial impact. I admit ….I’m the odd one, not them. I’m not your typical asthmatic who plays by the rules. In fact, I’m probably the most unusual asthmatic that most medical people will ever encounter.

Id like to thank the following people who helped me during this unfortunate turn of events:

The Boston Marathon medical volunteers Though I think it was a bit much….Thanks for taking care of me!
Chuck Our spotter during the race. He called me in the hospital to see how I was doing. He also took the time to send my Boston Jacket back to California.
Dani , the social worker who I leaned on constantly and who helped me get through this ordeal.
Veronica, one of the night shift Nurses , who took great care of me during the longgggg nights in the hospital.
Dennis Gaudet

, Respiratory Therapist ( yup same last name as mine) who took the time to come and see me and made sure I was well looked after. Thanks Dennis!
A person

at the BAA ( sorry I don’t know your name) who had my medal sent directly to my Hospital room. Thank You!
Mike isordil I can’t think of a better person to share this crazy marathon experience with. Thanks Mike!
Last , but not least, to my partner Douglas, who is always my strongest advocate when I’m hospitalized and always makes sure that I’m well taken care of.

If you get a chance, read Mike McBrides story over at COPD International, and what it took for him to make it the finish line at the Boston marathon. Pretty amazing stuff… but then again, he’s a pretty amazing person!

You can see more of Mikes Boston Marathon race photos on his Facebook page.

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Just a quick thank you to Rick of the Respiratory Therapy Cave for the nice article he wrote about me in his column over at Myasthmacentral.com entitled ” Hardluck Asthmatic”

Rick and I have a lot in common, in that we are both Respiratory Therapists and both of us have asthma. Fortunately, Rick has managed to keep his asthma under control and is able to work full time. Rick lives in the mid west and writes about what it’s like to work as an RT in a small community Hospital. Good stuff.

Thanks again Rick!download the music of cosmos mp3

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WARNING…This is a longgggg post. I apologize in advance for any typos. I whipped this post out in a hurry and will probably add to it as I start remembering more things.

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OK, so I didn’t PR. Actually, I set a new PW ( a personal worst) time of 7:31 . But hey, I made it to the TOP FINISHERS list..lol

Before I get into the details of the trip, first of all let me just say what an incredible experience this has been for me (and Im sure for the other 25,000 runners). All the hype that you hear about the Boston marathon is absolutely true. There is simply no other marathon like it on the planet. This was absolutely the best marathon experience Ive ever had! It’s the runners themselves, along with the fans and the people of the Boston area that make this event so special. It’s difficult to put into words the emotions you experience when you have a half million people rooting you on mile after mile, every step of the way… and I do mean EVERY STEP! From start to finish, the fans were there! Hard to sum up this marathon experience in one word, but if I had to, I’d choose the word… ” Overwhelming” , cuz thats what it was. Now I know why people want to do Boston. The encouragement and support from fellow runners and the fans is just plain freaky. My shoulder was tapped on so many times by passing runners telling me how awesome I was, that it was sore by the end of the race. My voice became horse from thanking literally thousands of fans along the course who took the time to acknowledge my presence in the race, and I think I was actually going deaf after the 7.5 hours of non -stop cheering.

I trained very hard for this race and for the most part , I think it paid off. If I would have pushed myself harder, I could have perhaps finished in under 7 hours, but frankly I was enjoying myself too much to shoot for a silly 7 hours PR. After 6.5 hours, who really cares…right? As far as the hospital thing, well that was just a fluke. The medical people had never encountered an athlete like me and got a little freaked out by my numbers and my medical history. But, at least you know by my experience, that if you ever need medical attention at this marathon , you’ll certainly get it ….. and then sum . lol

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I left the San Francisco early Friday morning with a scheduled stop-over in Denver. I had lucked out an got an upgrade to First class on United. Wow..what a difference to fly first class. FREE FOOD ! Anyways, As my plane landed in Denver, Mike called me up and we all met up at one of the airport coffee shops. Mike lives in Denver, and because it had begun to snow, his flight was delayed . This worked out great for both of us , because I had a few hours to kill before my next flight as well. By 1 pm , we both got on our connecting flights and though we were on different carriers, we both touched down in Boston within minutes of each other. From the airport I called the hotel and they sent a bus out to fetch me. I arrived at the Hyatt Harborside at sunset.
This is the view I encountered when I entered my hotel room.

My jaw dropped…. I spend at least 2 hours sitting on the rocks at waterfront, taking it all in.

Saturday morning I caught the water taxi from the dock at the hotel, and in 7 minutes I was in downtown Boston. From the there I caught the “T” subway train heading to the Expo. Boston has a fantastic public transport system ( too bad California can’t learn from them) Even though I was staying on the other side of the river, total trip time from my Hotel to the Expo was only about 30 minute. I spent most of the morning and part of the afternoon at the Expo. I collected my Bib and goodie bag .There was so much to see and do. While waiting in line for the registration office to open, I met up with two young ladies from Modena Italy. When they saw that I could speak Italian, we became instant friends. Turns out that they had both done the Rome marathon . After picking up my Bib, I headed over to this little mini theater they had set up where they were doing a virtual video tour of the course. I watched that thing from start to Finish. OMG…. just watching the video was giving me second thoughts about doing this race.

As promised, friend and fellow running bloggerFrancis

called me up and we hooked up out in front of the Expo center. Francis qualifying time for this race was something like 3:10. He’s worked so hard over the past 2 years to get to Boston, I was really happy for him. Francis had heard that Ryan Hall was signing autographs , so we went back inside and got in a line that seemed to wrap around the entire Expo floor. Hall was only signing autographs until noon and the line was so long, I thought for sure we wouldn’t make it. But, after an hour of inching our way forward , we made it to the front got out posters signed! This may sound crazy, but I didn’t really know who Ryan Hall was until I read about him later that evening. I know Francis was a huge fan, so Im happy he got to meet him.
In addition to seeing Ryan , I also got to talk to and meet with the Hoyts . These guys are amazing .

By 2 pm the Expo was so crowed, I was getting claustrophobic and decided I’d had enough . From the Expo I set off on foot do some sightseeing in the area. I wish I had spend more time checking out downtown Boston. There’s so much to see. Next time I will for sure.

Here are some pictures taken in and around the Expo as well as the Downtown Boston area.

Sunday at 5 am, Mike , myself and his crew all met in front of the Hotel for the drive out to Hopkinton ( the town the race actually starts in). The Oxygen company that was helping sponsor Mike for this marathon, actually flew a couple of there people out to Boston and provided us with a cozy van that took us out to the starting village. The ride from Boston to Hopkinton only took about 60 minutes, compared to 2 hours it would have taken on the jammed packed buses that were hauling most of the runners.

We arrived in Hopkinton at about 7 am and were allowed to hangout at a special gym across the street from the starting Village where all the wheelchair athletes were warming up. They provided us with foam pads to lay on and free hot and cold beverages to hydrate. After Mike put the finishing touches on his O2 cart, we wandered outside to watch all the pre-race stuff.
There were tons of Satellite TV trucks and News Vans parked out front. We were interviewed by several News organization ,but I cant really remember which ones ( it was all happening so fast.) I remember speaking with a couple Boston Globe Reporters , but there were others. Everyone was waving microphones and cameras in our faces, trying to find out what our story was.

As our starting time was growing closer, I was starting to get a little concerned about the weather. I had heard forecasts that were calling for a slight chance of rain in the late afternoon, but that it would be light. My biggest weather concern was the temperature. When we arrived in Hopkinton it was a freezing 33 degrees and foggy. I was debating whether or not I should wear a jacket during the race. Luckily, just minutes before the race started, the temperature had already risen to 47 degrees and the fog was starting to lift.
Here’s some pictures of the starting area:

About 30 minutes before the start we met up with our spotter and guide, Chuck. All I can say is ..thank god for Chuck! This guy had the tedious job of tailing us on his bike for 7.5 hours. Chuck was there to monitor us and be there in case we had any medical issues or if Mike had any equipment problems. I can’t tell you how reassuring it was to have someone right there on the course, encouraging you, assisting you , and making sure you had everything you needed.
One of the coolest things about having Chuck along, was that if I had to use the bathroom ( which happens a lot) I would let Chuck know ,and he would ride out ahead of us and scout out toilet locations.Then he would reserve a spot so that I wouldn’t have to wait in line when I got there. Now, thats what I call the Royal treatment!
Unbelievably , Mike did not one stop one single time to use a john. How he did it , I’ll never know .

At 5 minutes to 9 they had all the MI ( mobility impaired ) athletes line up at the starting line. I think there were a total of 18 of us.
At that time, they had us walk back and forth across the timing mats to make sure our chips were registering. After that, Dave McGillivray, Race Director of the B.A.A. shook our hands and then simply said……..READY, GET SET….GO! And so began our 7 and a half hour journey !

For the first mile or so, there were only 18 of us on the course. And except for the helicopters flying above us and the camera trucks in front of us, it was eerily quiet. There were only a handful of spectators, mostly people sitting in their front lawns. I thought to myself…this isnt so bad. Where are all the fans? I quickly got ahead of Mike , in fact , except for 2 runners, I was head of all of them. The problem was, that in order for me to maintain that lead, I would have to continue to jog , which my lungs were not liking. Looking back behind me, I could see that Mike was starting to settle in a comfortable, but slow pace of about 17/min.

As we crested the top of the first hill ( mile 2) , you could hear the faint cheers of spectators carrying on, but as we descended and rounded the first bend…Whamm! All of a sudden it was like we were the featured guests at a home coming festival. Both sides of the narrow 2 lane road were lined with screaming spectators for as far as the eye could see. I have never witnessed anything like this in my life. There was the men and women of the National Guard posted at ever corner, waving us on. There were tons children’s group, special organizations and just regular people, high fiving us, wishing us well, trying to shake our hands. Offering us food..you name it. The adulation was overwhelming and non-stop. At one point the fans got so aggressive trying to touch us, that our spotter and the motorcycle cops moved us to the center of street where we remained throughout the rest of the race.

About every 30 minutes or so, another wave of runners would pass us by. We would pull over the side of the road and let them pass. First it was the wheel chairs, then the Womens Elite and then the Mens Elite.
Here’s a pic that Mikes partner Cameron , captured as the Hoyts streaked by us:

About 3 hours into the race, The 25,000 other regular runners caught up with us and from then on it was pure pandemonium. It was like a huge rolling block party/running parade. It was as if everyone was high from the experience. People seemed less concerned about running fast and more concerned about having a good time.
Never had I experienced just comradery among runners in a single race. We were cheered on as much by our fellow runners as we were by the fans.

The course traverses through 8 small towns, but it seems like a lot more than that. Just Imagine that every time you would enter a new town, there would be another huge celebration going on, and that you were the subject of that celebration! That’s what it was like.
Here are some photos that either I took with my phone along the way, or that Mikes Pit crew took while they were waiting for us to pass certain areas so that they could change out Mikes tanks.

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OK, Fast forward to mile 18.

As promised, Heartbreak hill was brutal. Not exactly the way I had pictured it in my head, but nevertheless a tough climb. For some reason I had pictured this portion of the course as a steep climb up a narrow baron road. It wasn’t like that at all. It’s actually a series hills along a wide tree lined beautiful section of road, which gradually ascends it’s way up through what appeared to be very affluent neighborhood. It was at this point though , where you could see people pooping out. Some were literally falling down , and the people that remained upright were walking…not running!
This pic was taking at the crest of the final hill. You see me and mike at the 21 mile marker. From here on it was all downhill.

I think I faired better than most, because I live and train in a very hilly city. It’s not so much the steep steep steady climb of those last few hills, it’s their position along the course that makes them so tough. They occurred at appx miles 18-19-20 , not exactly the best place to have hills in a race, but I guess that’s what makes this marathon so challenging.

From here the last 5 miles are mostly downhill and I could have easily shaved 20 minutes from my time by jogging, but I decided that I would stay in pace with Mike and finish with him.
By mile 22 , I could feel my calf and thigh muscles starting to cramp and I was also getting nauseated. For the next few miles I would run out ahead of Mike , so that I could stretch out my legs against a tree or curb to prevent an all out cramp and look for a private place to puke if I needed to, then I would catch up with him. I would repeat this scenario every half mile for the remainder of the race.

Mile 23, the city of Boston was finally in site and you could actually see the finish area. It was at this point I knew I would finish the race within the time limit. The problem now, was that weather had gone from a pleasant 53 degrees to about 40 degrees in a matter of moments. In addition, the wind was picking up ,making it feel even colder. For the last 3 miles, I thought I was going to freeze to death. To make things worse, the constant headwind was aggravating my lungs, making me wheeze. By mile 25 , I was definitely feeling like I had done a marathon.

At mile 26, we made the first actual turn of the course where you head into the finish plaza. At this point our spotter, Chuck was not allowed to follow us anymore and we made arrangements to meet up in the VIP tent on the other side of the finish line.

As we entered the final 1/4 mile stretch to the finish line, it was starting to get dark outside and I could tell that we were probably going to be the last 2 people to finish the race. But, believe it or not, even at this late hour, there were huge crowds of people lining the streets that waited to see us finish.

Then in the last 100 yards or so, my emotions hit me like a tons of bricks. It finally dawned on me of what I had just accomplished. In the span of just 3 years, I had gone from an old out-of -shape COPDer who could barely walk a city block, and who was basically written off by the medical establishment, to achieving what many people said was silly, crazy and impossible. I was about to finish the Boston marathon!
As I set foot on the finish mat, I couldn’t control it any longer….. and the tears just gushed out. (I hope no one saw.)
I did it ! Me…..I did it !

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I will deliberately end the story here , because I don’t want the wonderful memory of this most extraordinary experience to be tainted by what followed shortly after crossing the finish line. Instead, I will write a separate post regarding my little stint at Boston General.

For now I want to congratulate my partner in Crime, Mike Mc Bride on his incredible endurance and will power in this race. He is still an inspiration to me and was by far , one of the favorites of the fans that lined the course.

Let me end by saying, that I’m grateful for being given an opportunity to take part in this race. It was truely a dream come true and an experience I will never forget. I hope that other people with lung disease , will see by my example, that anything is possible if you try hard enough.

And Finally, to the BAA, the people of Boston , the nearby communities and to all the fans and runners who made us feel special.
Thanks from the bottom of my heart!

Ohhh…….and I qualified for next years race!

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Sorry about the delay on the race report, but Ive basically been in a vacuum for the past 5 days and am now just getting caught up on what on what the heck transpired while I was in lock up. Give me a few days to catch my breath and get that report up.

I was released from the Boston Mass General Hospital on Saturday morning and arrived back in California on Saturday afternoon. My experience with this Hospital was not a good one and you can bet that I will be writing all about it when I’m feeling better. For the time being, I’m still very short of breath and totally roided out ( lung lingo meaning …strung out on prednisone) . My only priority now, is to avoid a re-lapse and a re-admission. If I can get through the next couple of days …..I’ll be good to go!

I want to thank everyone for your support and words of encouragement. I can’t tell you how much it means to me. The response to the Boston adventure has been overwhelming, but I promise I will answer all your emails.

Oh..Almost forgot to mention…..Just hours before the Boston Globe reported that I hadn’t received my medal, I actually had. The BAA had couriered it over to the Hospital Tuesday evening before the Boston Globe article was published. Thank You BAA !!

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I’m still in a Boston, but unfortunately in Hospital. I’m doing well enough to be discharged tomorrow or at least transferred to my local prison.

Some friends turned me on to these media clips.

Boston.com
Boston Globe

BTW…I got my medal ! ( they actually delivered it to the hospital)how cool is that!

It’s gonna take me some time to recuperate, but I hope to have a race report up within the next week.

Again, thanks for all the comments and well wishes..it’s means a lot to me. Boston was awesome! discontinuing of effexor symptoms xr