I like to brag that I once qualified for the Boston Marathon. Anyone who knows anything about that race is impressed. One needs documented fast times in one or more previous races to simply get to the starting line. That’s how it is now, and has been for quite some time.
But back in 1968, to qualify all you had to do was send in $5. I did that.
Now I had been running some, and thought I would do OK, but I spent the Saturday/Sunday before the always-on-Monday race climbing. So when my alarm went off at 8:00 AM Monday morning I was faced with two choices.
1 – get up, drive out to Hopkinton and then run 26 miles back into the city, or
2 – go back to sleep, wake up later, make a big pancake breakfast, and go out and enjoy watching the race.
I made the logical choice.
