We’re gathering horror stories, cautionary tales, improbable heroics, weird and wild adventures from the land of marathoning. Not just any marathon, but Boston, the granddaddy of them all. For 123 years runners have followed the script of hubris giving way to humiliation on the winding road from Hopkinton to Copley Square.
Every marathon presents the possibility of a meltdown, but Boston seems to create more than its share. Countless runners have been defeated by the deceptively dastardly course, the fickle weather, the week of pre-race hoopla. On the biggest stage, it’s too easy to fall—and it’s a long way down.
We’ve had our share of bonks and cramps, of escapes from medical tents, of dragging one leg up Hereford and down Boylston amid a tunnel of cheers imploring us to keep running. We’d like to hear your story—in 280 characters or less.