I started running because of a breakup. It was 2010, and because heartbreak is the capstone of adversity at 23, I decided to sign up to run a marathon.
That choice led me to running for Children’s Hospital of Boston, a place I had been a patient growing up. And through their patient partner program, I met a boy. His name was Will. He was 9 years old and in 4th grade. His mom told me he was passionate music and the Red Sox. She also told me he was born with a rare form of muscular dystrophy called Myotubular Myopathy. But mostly, he was just a kid who really loved the Red Sox.
Will helped me cross that first finish line of the New York City marathon. And then the second. And then the third. He was even there in 2013 when I ran the Boston Marathon and finished 44 seconds before the first bomb went off. Thankfully, we were all safe.
I tried to quit on running after that, and even a few more times since, but quitting isn’t exactly what Will or running taught me to do. In the book “Born to Run,” Christopher McDougall writes,
“There was some kind of connection between the capacity to love and the capacity to love ‘running.’ The engineering was certainly the same: both depended on loosening your grip on your own desires, putting aside what you wanted and appreciating what you've got.”
If I have to endure a few hours of side cramps and sore legs to help raise money for Children’s Hospital of Boston, children like Will and their amazing families who love and support them, then that’s what I’ll do. As a mom of two now, I feel this imitable gratitude whenever they are healthy. I know every parent feels the same.
Will passed away at the age of 20 in 2021. I still think about him every time I run. I’ll be thinking about him this fall when I attempt my tenth marathon. And even when the hills get too high or the road seems too long, I remember to tell myself his catchphrase, “Life is good.”
Please help me honor Will's legacy by donating to my fundraiser for Children's Hospital of Boston.
