Boston Athletic Association 5K - "A Run to Remember"

A Family Event

I got up early to run.  Simple slow little jaunt to the Boston Commons.  In the mid-morning the BAA 5K would begin.  I signed my family up for the race in January.  It would be a nice little run for all of them.  When each of them finished they’d receive a finisher’s medal. My Mom still runs well for her senior age and did a Personal Record (PR) 46min in August at the Elvis 5K.  My wife took a running forms class and was getting much more comfortable with running, skirting 50min in the 5K.  My Dad was a bit of a worry.  He just finished a kidney stone procedure and his advanced age was concerning.  However, Dad wanted to give it a go.

Happy Couple before the Race

I finished my short run and retrieved my wife to meet up with my parents at Boston Commons for the start.  I told Mom that we really couldn’t start in front and had to make our way to the slowest corral possible.   It took forever for our run to start.  In fact the race was already won by Ben True with an American Record Road Race 5K effort before we even got to starting line. 

I had told my family we should run together to make sure we all made it together.  However, once we crossed the starting line, the Delasalas women had other plans. 

Immediately, Grace took off on her pace.  I didn’t bother to catch her because my parents weren’t up to speed yet.  Heading out rounding Boylston & Arlington Street, my Mom revved up her engine and took off leaving me alone with Dad.  Dad, not to be out done, picked up his pace and started to run.  

He was rolling pretty well, and I was very impressed.  I’d ask him every other minute if he felt okay, and he responded with a thumbs-up.  Well, that is, until his wheels fell off at mile .5.  At ½ a mile into the race, pain started hitting his right knee.  We stopped for a moment for him to adjust his elastic knee brace.  He said it was alright and continued on.  But it kept bothering him and he readjusted at the ¾ mile mark.  When we reached the one mile marker, he stopped completely to rest.  I asked if he could make it.  He said, “One step at a time.”  “Sure Dad,” I said, and had him put his arm over my shoulder. 

Together

Going down Commonwealth Avenue, there’s a point where you see the other runners coming back and making their turn to Hereford Street.  It would be a perfect time to cut the course and head back.  It would be two more blocks for us to get to the CITGO sign for our turnaround.  I offered my Dad the opportunity to cut the course.  Without hesitation he emphatically proclaimed, “NO!”   I’ve always been proud of my Dad.  But when he wanted to continue and not take the easy short cut, it galvanized even more my sheer love for him as a man. 

Inching closer to the CITGO sign and the Kenmore Street turnaround, we had to go under the Massachusetts underpass.  I looked over my shoulder and saw a police car.  I asked Dad if he could continue and went to talk to the officer.  I asked the officer if there was a time limit.  He said not really and asked if my Dad wanted help back.  I told him Dad wanted to keep going. 

We rounded Kenmore and headed back to the Commons.  At this point, there were almost no other runners on the course - just a blind man with a guide and what appeared to be a person on crutches.  We took our right on Hereford and left onto Boylston.  On Monday, I would be going down this path for my marathon finish.

Struggling but Always Fighting

On Boylston is the Grandstand for Marathon Finishers.  Just coming off Hereford, its ¼ mile away but looks more like a hundred miles away.  The area was becoming void of runners as tourists started to flood the street.  My Dad asked if that would be our finish.  I told him, “Unfortunately, we have to go past that finish line and go all the way back to the Commons.” 

As we got to the 5K finish, people gave us thumbs-ups, yells of encouragement, even a few applauses.  There I was: a man with his Dad, lifting him through a 5K. 

We didn’t really talk much during the race.  I kept monitoring his status.  He was holding up.  However, in the back of my mind, I was recalling a time in high school when he lifted me up, when he never gave up on me even though I wanted to give up on life.  We went through that tough time together and he never wavered from seeing me graduate.  In fact, the moment my graduation ceremony was over, I went against the stream of people to find him, cry on his shoulder, and say, “We Did This!”

Today with this little 5K, in the sport I love most, was the same kind of opportunity to show “We’re going to do this!”

We passed under the Marathon Finish structure, past the old church, back to the entrance of Boston Common.  A policeman gave us a little pathway separating the tourist blocking the street.  The stretch to the finish was empty.  No one was there except my Mom and Grace. I took Dad’s arm off my shoulder and told him to muster enough to run ahead of me.  I watched him cross at 1h04m32s then took my few steps crossing at 1h04m34s.  Twenty minutes earlier, my Mom finished at blazing 42m05sec and Grace finished at respectable 46m37sec (both of them PR'd).  I was officially beat by my entire family.  It was the most rewarding last place in my life. 

Dad Crosses First

Crossing the Line

Best Time Ever