By Chris Murphy, Globe Travel Staff

A love letter to Boston ... and Brookline, Newton, Wellesley, Natick, Framingham, Ashland, and Hopkinton.

Thank you for yesterday's gigantic exercise in good will. Starting with my running club, the Colonial Road Runners, which granted me a Marathon waiver, helped me train, and got me to the starting line.

Thank you to the extremely generous woman in Hopkinton who let me and my friends use the bathroom in her house as we schlepped to our corrals. To the runners I met from Dublin, Toronto, and Sao Paolo. To the bands, the drummers, and the guy who was playing the theme to "Jurassic Park" on his trumpet when I went by.

To the runners dressed as Batman and Robin, a giant cheeseburger (Go Big Sandwich!), cross-dressers, a British bobby, the man who ran in a tuxedo and black sneakers (did you propose to anyone?), and the runner with the inflatable Pesky Pole strapped to his head.

To the kids who blew bubbles, gave passing high fives, and offered Twizzlers, orange slices, Popsicles, and Kleenex. To my husband, John, who wrote Go Chris! on my shirt, and to everyone who thought the exclamation point was an "i" and yelled Go Chrisi - well, that was just sweet.

To the man who told me I better get going because his money was on me. To the baseball fans holding signs to inform runners that the Red Sox were ahead.

To the Wellesley College women with their screams and free kisses and the Boston College dudes slapping my hand, especially the one who told me to dig deep. To the two runners I saw who ran with prostheses, the brave man running with an oxygen tank on wheels behind him, and the two I saw running blindfolded (with guides) to raise money for the Perkins School for the Blind. 

To all the other charity runners.

To Santa Claus and the giant furry chicken who patted me on the back. To my friend Susan, who gave me a hug at Mile 15.

To the endless army of ever-gracious volunteers who must have been out there all day, you earned those jackets.

To the runners I saw supporting a woman who ran into trouble at Mile 25.

To my brother-in-law Matt who steadied me afterward and kept my legs moving around the Public Garden until my posse arrived with warm clothes.

To my boys, Rob and Ryan, who made me a lovely cheering sign.

To the police and State Troopers who kept the peace.

To the crews who are still cleaning up. To the friends, family, and co-workers who wished me well.

For every loud, messy, miserable, crazy, wonderful step of the way, it was a privilege.

Thank you.

What a day!!!

Personally, I could not have asked for better running weather. Not too cold, definitely not too hot. Just enough cloud cover to shield the sun, yet not completely block it out. All in all, the weather gods really set the tempo for a great race day.

I have to admit that after arriving in Hopkinton, I was a definitely chilly, which meant that I basically stayed bundled-up right up until I threw my gear bag in the bus. However, once the gun went off, I warmed right up.

While there was a slight headwind at times, I personally found this refreshing more than stifling. Additionally, the temperature throughout the race was such that when I passed by the water stations, I was grabbing Gatorade and water to hydrate, versus quench my thirst.

All of this meant that I was really able to focus on the run, versus my body, which in my opinion makes all the difference in world. What I mean here is that in my experience, my best races and times have always been the result of race day experiences where I’ve been able to successfully focus on what’s going on around me, versus what’s going on within me, mainly the physical discomfort of running 26.2 miles. Therefore instead of wondering where the next water station will be or how my knee is getting sore, I’m able to just soak up all that is great about the running the Boston Marathon. This includes, but is certainly not limited to, the cheers of everyone who lines the roads in Hopkinton, Ashland, Framingham, and Natick who are so key to setting the tone for those first 10 or so miles, the Wellesley College Scream Tunnel, everyone in Washington Square (particularly my mom, wife and son, who at 5 months old was watching his first marathon) and all the folks on the Kenmore Bridge, Comm Ave., and Boylston Street for that final push to the finish.

On a personal note, I have to thank the folks on the Kenmore Bridge, as I did start to really feel some pain just after mile 24 that I thought might just kill my race. The thought of getting over that last bridge was daunting, but hearing all that cheering just enabled me to block out the pain and really gave me what I needed for the final push to the finish line. Thank you!!!

I also had the good fortune of briefly running alongside Team Hoyt (Rick & Dick), which is always incredibly inspiring. I also saw at least two competitors with amputations who were easily running sub-seven minute splits…amazing! Seeing these kinds of scenes, as well as just being in the company of my fellow runners reminds me of how running, or even just watching, a marathon is inspiring on so many levels.

On a personal note, I had the good fortune of recording my best time since 2006 and in the process re-qualifying, which is always gratifying.

In closing, I just wanted to congratulate everyone on a great race and I hope to see you all again for the 114th running in 2010. Cheers!

Less that 24 hours!!! The anticipation is killing me.

If someone were to ask me right now, 'How do you feel?', I’d have to simply respond that I’m just plain anxious! By this point, I’ve picked up my number, been through the expo, put in an ungodly amount of time getting ready for Race Day, and am in the final moments of what I like to call my “idle” phase in which I stop running in the days leading up to race day. Therefore, I just want to get to the starting line in Hopkington and start running this race.

Ask anyone who’s run a marathon previously (or even if you’re a first time competitor), the days leading up to race day are filled with emotion. These feelings can range from fear to excitement depending on who you are and the journey you’ve taken to get to this point. Feeling emotional is completely understandable. Just take a moment to think about all that you’ve done to just simply get to this point. It’s been an incredible journey!

The thing about running a marathon is that it’s not something that you can do overnight. The actual race is one thing, but the journey you embark on to get there is another. We all have our own reasons for why we are here and taking on this challenge. As a result of all that we have endured, in these final days, the race itself becomes an event that just seems to loom larger than life itself.

While race day is the pinnacle of the marathon experience, it’s also a day unlike any other. No matter how hard you’ve trained or what you’ve endured to get to Boston, nothing can compare to what you’ll actually experience and how you will feel the moment the gun goes off. While training ensures that we’re all ready for this moment, what happens and how you feel once you are out on the course is a completely different and unique experience.

In the end, if someone were to ask me, why do you keep running marathons and putting yourself through all of this, sure I have a variety of answers and reasons, but it really boils down to the feeling and emotions associated with the race day experience. It’s why I keep coming back and ultimately can explain why I’ve been bitten by the marathon bug.

It all goes back to my very first marathon, Chicago 2000.

I had been an avid runner up to this point, running 6-7 miles daily to keep in shape, but had never run longer distances. However in the summer of 2000 I made my first visit to Chicago in over two years (I grew up there) to see some old friends and had a really good time. As a result, I vowed that I would make an effort to return to Chicago more often so as to ensure I did not lose touch with my roots as well as some of my oldest and dearest friends. Therefore, in order to ensure I stayed true to this vow, I decided that the following October I would run the Chicago Marathon.

Having never run a marathon before, I was a little unsure of how to approach training, and instead of buying a book or joining a team I just decided to construct my own training program. On top of this, I decided that I would not actually register for the race until I knew that it was something I was definitively committed to doing, in that I had hit certain training and distance goals. Fortunately, I stuck to my guns and in early September I signed up and was now fully committed to running my first marathon. (On a side note, this just goes to show how popular marathons have become, seeing that in 2000, you could still register less than a month before the actual race).

Before I knew it, I was in Chicago and I was sitting at dinner with my father having my “last supper” on the eve of race day. I remember him asking me if I felt I was ready, which I certainly felt I was. I also remember him asking me what I had hoped for in terms of a time. I said that I was not really sure, but a few of my friends who had run marathons previously had done so in around four hours, so I thought that if I could match that, I would certainly be happy. He then asked me about the Boston Marathon, and I remember telling him that it would be great to run it one day, but it was a race you had to qualify for and I felt that there was no way I would be able to do that.

Sure I had trained and felt that I had a good shot in completing the race in about four hours, but qualifying for Boston…no way. To be honest, getting a Boston qualifying time was not why I was running the race. I had made a commitment to return back home and I honestly just wanted to prove to myself that I could run a marathon. Being able to run Boston would be great, but I really did not give it much thought as I did not really have plans to run any more marathons beyond this one and the time needed to qualify for Boston just seemed way out of reach.

All of this was based on the fact that that this was my first marathon, and the only experience I was drawing on was training and a few 5K races I’d run in previous years. The one thing I did not count on or understand was the power and energy that comes with race day.

Sunday, October 22nd -- Race Day.

As I got to the start, I decided that I would be a bit ambitious and run with the 7-minute mile pace group. Could I really keep-up this kind of pace throughout the race? To be honest, I was not 100% sure, but based on how I was feeling at the moment it seemed like the right choice. As I looked around at all my fellow runners who were most likely feeling something similar, while it’s hard to explain, I just felt a real sense of energy…and the race had not even begun. Surrounded by all of these fellow athletes just got my adrenaline pumping.

Then the gun went off!

Since I’d positioned myself towards the front of the start, I was able to hit my stride pretty quickly, and I remember hitting my first mile in under 7 minutes…way too fast I thought. Therefore, I decided to try and slow down a bit, but something about the energy of my fellow runners and the people lining the streets just kept me going. As much as I tried to hold myself back, I found myself just pushing harder and feeling great.

Soon at mile 10, I remember someone calling out what approximate place you were in and I remember hearing as I passed by…1,000. Upon hearing this I was in a slight state of disbelief…I was in approximately 1,000th place in a race with over 27,000 runners, in my first marathon. However, I was just feeding off the energy.

I then remember hitting the halfway point in around 1:28:00, and suddenly it hit me, that I was running at a pace that was way, way beyond anything I could have ever imagined. But, I still had 13.1 miles to go and a lot can happen between the halfway point and the finish line. However, it was suddenly at this point that I realized that maybe qualifying for Boston could be a reality, and suddenly I had a new goal in mind.

With thoughts of Boston suddenly filling my mind, I somehow found the strength and will to keep-up my pace. Again, the Race Day energy was all consuming and the thoughts of potentially running Boston began to overtake any feelings of pain and discomfort that come with the final miles of running a marathon. By mile 26, my pace was such that I even briefly flirted with the idea that maybe I’d break three hours, but that was not to be.

As I crossed the finish line, I did so in 3:01:27 and much to my disbelief I found out that I had indeed qualified for Boston!

This to date stands as my second best time on record, but in my annals of marathon running my most important time. The reason being is that it demonstrated to me how powerful the actual Race Day experience really is and how it can bring out the best both physically and mentally within any of us. Race day had brought out something within me that was completely unexpected. Sure it was there, but I guess I did not know how to unleash it. Race day brought it out and as a result it made me realize that things that I did not think were possible were actually achievable.

While it’s been almost 9 years and 15 marathons since that October day (tomorrow will be by 16th marathon, 8th Boston), I have to attribute much of why I continue to run marathons to this particular day and experience. While every race is different, and surely Race day in Boston is unlike any other, it was a true testament to the power of the entire marathon experience, especially race day.

In the end, Race day is where you transform from trainee to marathoner, and in the process of this metamorphosis you undoubtedly learn a lot about yourself and ultimately why running a marathon is really so much more than just a 26.2 mile race.

The Red Snakes are coming. (Photo courtesy of Kaji Aso Studio)

The following was submitted by Joe McGonegal

Gombatte! Try your best!
Among Boston’s bandits is one well-organized troupe

Though they are cheered on as much as registered runners, sneered at by purists and nearly ignored nowadays by race officials, Boston’s “bandits”—or unregistered runners—are as much a part of Boston Marathon history as John Kelley or the Kenyans.

With registration for this year’s race closing in January, there may be more bandits than usual.

But thanks to the Red Snakes, a small group of local runners and artists from the Kaji Aso Studio in the Back Bay, Boston’s bandits have felt acknowledged on race day for the past three decades.

This April 20, the Red Snakes will again target hundreds of runners in the Boston Marathon and get to them just as they cross the finish line. It’s likely that those targeted runners will be just as surprised as they are each year.

The Red Snakes will hand bandits a simple, hand-stenciled certificate that celebrates their accomplishment and congratulates them on their finish.

It began in 1971 when Kaji Aso, an art professor at Tufts University, started running the Boston Marathon in the back of the pack with his students. After a few years, he termed his group of runners “Red Snakes” because, as Aso Studio instructor Gary Tucker, 49, explained, “they’re hard to kill, and very passionate.”

In 1971, Kaji Aso, an art professor at Tufts University, started running the Boston Marathon in the back of the pack with his students. (Photos courtesy of Kaji Aso Studio)

“Encouragement was a big part of [Aso’s] persona, so this fit him perfectly,” Tucker, who was a student of Aso’s at Tufts, said of the group’s formation.

Tucker and Kate Finnegan, 52, the Aso Studio’s current director, ran the race together with Aso over a dozen times. By the late ‘70s, the group got an idea.

“That started a long time ago,” said Finnegan as she sifted through photos and memorabilia from Aso’s files in the upper room of the studio a few weeks before this year’s marathon.

“It used to be that the [Boston Athletic Association] would take down the finish line after four hours,” said Finnegan. “So we wanted a way to celebrate runners who came in after that.”

The solution: a finisher’s certificate for the bandits.

“Each year after we finish,” said Finnegan, “we rest a bit, and then we turn around and start giving these out. And people started collecting them over the years!”

At first, the Red Snakes found the demand overwhelming. “We used to make thousands,” said Finnegan. “Then, when it switched to the Hancock sponsoring [the race], they now keep the finish line open later. Our job isn’t as necessary as it used to be—we’ll print 300 or so this year.”

Those straggling down Boylston Street after six or seven hours on the course see the Red Snakes’ banner: “Welcome, Slow Runners!”

1976 Boston Marathon champion Jack Fultz, who served as elite athlete liaison for the race and now coaches the Dana Farber Team, befriended Aso and the Red Snakes early on and even sported a Red Snakes t-shirt in the 1981 race.

“They're the most notorious bandits in the marathon,” Fultz said of the Red Snakes. “But running for [Kaji Aso] was special—it was a form of meditation.”

While Fultz admires the Red Snakes, he hesitates to encourage all bandits from jumping into the race at Hopkinton. Estimated to be in the thousands each year, bandits are often criticized for draining race-day resources and clogging the already packed streets.

“You can't stop them,” said Fultz. “It's a public road. And it's a PR thing, too. You don't want to be the big old nasty organization keeping people who aren't hurting anybody.”

Finish director Tom Meagher cares less about PR than about protecting the integrity of his finish line.

“Up till the three hour mark, we’re yanking [bandits] out,” Meagher said. “I tell security, ‘get them out of there!’ We’re not going to give these people a stage. From the corner of Exeter [Street] to the finish, we yank them.”

There may be more bandits this year than usual, according to Dave McGillivray, the Boston Marathon race director. In late January, race directors cut off registration when they reached 25,000—several weeks earlier than in most years.

“People are saying all those qualifiers who didn't get in will increase the number of bandits,” McGillivray said. “My sense is that although they're disappointed they didn't get in, they have their own standards and they don't want to run this race that way.”

McGillivray “bandited” Boston himself in his teens and is less adamant about pulling bandits from the starting line on race morning in Hopkinton.

“The BAA’s position is that we certainly don't encourage unofficial runners from running,” McGillivray said, “but we recognize that it's part of the tradition that a certain number of them will show up.”

“Right or wrong,” McGillivray said, “we factor them in, too. When we order port-a-johns and water, we actually say there’s 29,000 in the race, not 26,000”—the number of registered runners. “It's a conundrum for sure. On the one hand you feel like you’re accommodating them, but it’s safety too.”

At this year’s starting line will be a dozen Red Snakes carrying on Kaji Aso’s tradition.
Asked how they get inside the secured city limits on race morning, Gary Tucker laughed.

“It’s privileged information I’m about to tell you. We meet very early. We have to leave here by six because we have to be in the Hopkinton city limits by eight. And one of our members, who owns a house in Hopkinton, hosts us until the race starts.”

As they cross the starting line, the Red Snakes chant, “Gombatte! Try your best!”

Just over 26 miles later, Tucker, Finnegan and others will raise the Red Snakes banner, turn around, and celebrate the bandits coming down Boylston Street.

Funny I have been training for the Boston Marathon for the last 16 years, and the week before is always the same. No matter how diligent you were with your training, there is always the feeling that you should have done more.

Running with many first timers with the Dana Farber Marathon Challenge, I get to experience the excitement/dread of the upcoming race.

With the tapering process well under way, many runners are feeling all sorts of aches and pains. I have come to realize that giving your body a rest is also giving your mind an opportunity to worry about things you can't control.

For the last four months, we all were following a set training schedule and didn't have much free time for consternation. The fun part is that, after many cold evening and weekend runs, the rest of the area is starting to focus on April 20.

Seeing the local media start mentioning the race makes all of the runners realize that they are part of a world class event steeped in rich tradition. One of the most fun things for me is to see the mile markers get a fresh coat of paint this week. Even the casual observer knows that something big is happening in Boston.

Betsy, a fellow runner, related a story with a interesting perspective on the marathon. One of her students saw her last Thursday leaving school in her running gear. Proudly the youngster waved and proclaimed to a nearby teacher's aid that "Miss Gott was running in the World Series."

Next Sunday afternoon, I will join close to 2,000 people for the annual Dana Farber Pasta Party. This is the most inspiring part of the marathon weekend. In addition to 500+ nervous runners, there will be dozens of patients from the Jimmy Fund Clinic. Several of our runners pair up with a current or former cancer patient and build a wonderful bond. Many of the children are currently undergoing Chemo or radiation therapy and tire very quickly.

But for a few special hours they are the stars of the show. Many patient partners will be waiting at mile 25 to cheer all of the runners on their way to the finish.

Funny how seeing those courageous children smile makes all those aches and pains disappear.

The following was submitted by William Menda (Bib No. 17,300)

Why is it so important to many of us to qualify for the Boston Marathon and, if possible, re-qualify and return to Boston? Because it's a thrill to achieve something meaningful, even -- or especiallly -- when it comes by a small margin.

For me to get to Boston the first time, I had to run the best marathon I had ever run.  Being a middle-of-the-pack kind of guy meant my best marathon allowed me to qualify by six seconds a mile (3:33:20).  

Six seconds a mile? That's one or two slow miles, one cramp, one pit stop, or one or two slow hills.  

Several of my running friends, on their best days ever, had similar small margins of great success. For faster people, qualifying by larger margins could mean personal records as well, but frequent fast times could lessen some of the pressure, as well as the thrill of just qualifying.

Getting to Boston once (it took me nine years) hardly persuaded me that re-qualifying would ever happen.  

So what do you do?

You try. You eat even more carefully. You lose more weight. You train smarter and over time you lose most of your running partners.  

The years pass, miles and injuries accumulate, and failed opportunities to qualify become more regular.  

Then on one day, one magical day, in one place, fitness, weather, and mental toughness come together again.  

Another great effort produces another small margin of great success. The feeling of putting it all together again to achieve such a result at the edge of the limits of one's abilities is incredible.

Many articles decry the relaxation of Boston's qualifying times. Those qualifying times are high standards for most runners. For those of us who line up for the race on April 20, we are running Boston because we ran the absolute best we had ever run just to meet the standard.  

That is what makes the Boston Marathon so important to us.

One thing I have always enjoyed about marathon running is the camaraderie and community associated with it.

Everyone who’s ever run a marathon has their own personal experience, and while those who’ve never ran a marathon often react to you with a sense of awe; your fellow marathoners will more often than not, react with a sense of empathy. The reason being is that it’s your fellow marathoners who really understand what running a marathon is all about and what it really takes to accomplish what is both a very challenging physical, as well as mental, feat.

Therefore, whether you are an elite runner or someone who’s running for the first time, the experience of a marathon really creates a sense of community that forms an unspoken bond that exists between us all.

I can’t begin to count the number people I’ve met and bonded with over the marathon experience. Whether it’s on a plane, at a party or even a business dinner, when you’re speaking with someone and suddenly the subject of a marathon comes up, it amazes me how suddenly you can go from being almost complete strangers to old friends. When sharing stories and experiences ranging from training to injuries to race day, the conversation between two marathoners can just take off and flow.

On the bus to Hopkinton, I personally love speaking with people about their qualifiers, as everyone always tends to have a great story and have qualified in different races from all over the country and the world. This is also a great way to find out about other races (or qualifiers) and what they’re really like. Sure when you’re at the Expo you’ll see a ton of booths promoting a lot of races, but nothing beats getting first hand information from someone who’s actually been on the course and crossed the finish line.

One thing about marathon running is that there really does seem to be a feeling of mutual respect that transcends the community. Whether you’re an elite athlete or a first-time runner, we all know that marathon running is an intense commitment, as well as experience. Running a marathon instills a tremendous sense of personal pride that’s not necessarily associated with the “time”, but more importantly the accomplishment. As a result, it’s something that everyone who’s run a marathon understands and contributes to it fostering such great community.

However, a fundamental reason that I personally believe that marathon running fosters such a great community is because at the core of it all it’s an intensely personal experience. Unless you are a true elite runner, when you’re out on the course the person you’re really competing against is yourself. Sure, there might be those few people around you that you mark as the ones to beat, but in reality, these people are not competitors, but rather subconscious motivators. Therefore, when on the course whether you’re goal is to set a PR of just cross the finish line, the person that you’re really competing against is yourself. As a result, when you cross the finish line the result is a sense of tremendous personal accomplishment that not many other “life experiences” can compete with.

It’s these personal experiences that help to create the larger community that we’re all a part of. It’s these personal experiences that make you want to say “Hey, I’ve been there too”. It’s these personal experiences that encourage you to lend a hand or to offer words of encouragement when you see someone struggling on the course.

In the end, it’s hard to pin down exactly the one thing that brings us all together, but maybe that’s exactly the reason why the community of marathon runners is so open, dynamic, accepting and vibrant.

The Local 3 charity race to benefit the Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge (DFMC) took place at The Local Restaurant in West Newton this afternoon. The 3-mile run started at 1:00 p.m. under cool and windy conditions. Frank Santo, the owner of the Local hosted the event that annually raises thousands of dollars for innovative cancer research.

Boston.com Marathon Blog contributor and DFMC runner Rich "Shifter" Horgan organized the event, now in its ninth year.

Check out the video summary of the day.

Just four weeks to go until Boston. And to be honest, I wish I was running tomorrow. I am as fit or unfit as I am going to be.

Most people training for Boston will do their final long run this weekend. Three weeks before Boston is always a fun day on the marathon course. There will be hundreds of runners on the course this Saturday.

Most charity groups will be out there early Saturday morning. My last long run may be only 18 miles or so, but I am ready to get it done, then rest up for April 20.

I cut out of our track workout tonight a little early to attend a party in Boston. (What a shock!)

Tonight there was get together for Boston legend Eddie Doyle. Eddie is the real-life Sam Malone. For decades Eddie was the gracious host at the Bull and Finch Pub on Beacon Street, before it became known as Cheers.

It was great to see such running luminaries as coach Bill Squires and the Eliot Lounge's Tom Leonard. One of the things that makes the Boston running scene so much fun is the local races throughout the year.

Everyone gets excited about the Marathon, but it is the other 5K and 5-mile races that make running in Boston a special experience. Over the years there have been some great races that have raised thousands of dollars for local charities.

Back in the 1980's the Freedom Trail 8.1-mile race ran through the North End, Bunker Hill and finished at a great block party in the financial district.

The Milk Run was always 8 days before the Boston marathon and was a final tune up for some, and the first run of the spring for others.

The Doc Linsky 5-miler was always held in early September and wound its way through Cambridge for 20 years.

When these runs eventually ended , new races for new charities took their place. It's always a clear sign that Spring is on its way when the road races start again.

A week from Saturday, April 4, I will be putting on the Local 3, a flat fun race to raise money for the Dana Farber Marathon Challenge. Frank Santo, the owner of the Local Restaurant in West Newton, is graciously hosting the event that annually raises thousands of dollars for innovative cancer research. Along with the help from our friends at Harpoon Brewery, we are looking forward to a great afternoon. People can register at www.coolrunning.com

Speaking of Harpoon, they will be hosting their annual Harpoon 5-Miler on Saturday,, June 6 to raise funds for the Angel Fund. The Angel Fund raises a great deal of money to combat ALS.

Time for bed and sweet dreams about my long run on Saturday.

Just returned from a track workout at Tufts.

Coach Jack Fultz, the 1976 Boston Marathon Champion, put about a dozen Dana Farber Marathon Challengers through a tough one-hour workout.

With six weeks left until Boston, there were more than a few aches and pains at the track.
But there is also the feeling that all of the hard work is finally paying off.

After a few sessions with my chiropractor, Dr. Kate, my hamstrings are finally feeling normal. I was able to drag myself through a 15-plus-mile run with the help of my running partner Emily on Saturday. I was gassed on the way back to Lexington, but Emily coaxed and cajoled me to finish the run.

* * *

This is also a key time of year for our fund-raising for Dana Farber Cancer Institute.

This year the Dana Farber Marathon Challenge will attempt to raise $4.85 million for innovative cancer research. Despite the tough economic climate, I am amazed at the dedication of my fellow runners when it comes to their personal fund-raising. Every weekend there is a special event put on by one of our runners with the goal of pushing their fund-raising total.

Thursday night will be our weekly "Crossroads Run." Back in 1993, a group of runners would meet at the Eliot Lounge on Mass Ave., and Commonwealth Ave.

The ambassador to the running community, Tommy Leonard, would welcome us every Thursday night from behind the bar at the Eliot. The runners would leave their bags under the watchful eye of Tommy and take the D-train to the Woodland T-stop. After running the last nine miles of the marathon course, we would find ourselves on the other side of the tap from Tommy.

After a few pints Tommy would regale us with stories of Alberto Salazar, Rod Dixon, and our own Jack Fultz.

There isn't a more caringn genuine person in the world than Tom Leonard.

Every year people will venture to the Falmouth Road Race (which he started) just for a glimpse of Tommy's smile -- and of cours, a few embellished stories.

When the Eliot closed it's doors in the late 90s, we needed to find a new home.

Crossroads Pub on Beacon Street has become our Thursday night oasis for the last 10-plus years. Our fellow DFMC alum J.J. Larner takes care of all of the runners and their friends.

The owner Sam and manager Mike make sure that we are welcome every week, and that there is enough free pizza for everyone. We are joined by our friends from the American Liver Foundation and Joints in Motion teams.

Following in the great tradition started at the Eliot Lounge, Thursday nights at Crossroads have become a required ritual.

Can't believe it is only two more days to Thursday!

* * *

For the fun of it, here's a link to a terrific 2005 column the Globe Magazine's Charles P. Pierce wrote about Tommy Leonard and the Eliot Lounge for Sports Illustrated.

Seems like the marathon has crept up on me this year.

This will be my 16th consecutive year running Boston, and it has been a challenging year. I usually ease into my training by running the reach the beach relay in September and the BAA Half Marathon in October. Things were going according to plan when one night in November my hamstring started to kill me on a short run from Crossroads Pub in Boston.

I took a week off and ran the Gobble Gobble Gobble on Thanksgiving Day. Unfortunately my hamstring bothered me again, Thank goodness for the free beer at the Buren.

Anyway, enough with my injury woes. My old boss once told me that excuses were like rear ends, everyone has one.

I am getting excited as the marathon approaches. Nothing better than to see the first time runners run their first 15- and 20-mile run. Every year the training is hard, but meeting new people and seeing old friends on the road make Boston a special part of my life.

Time to forget to stretch again and go to sleep. Thursday night run at Crossroads coming up.