My sister-in-law was running in the Boston marathon in 2012. We were to meet up at the finish line area when she was done with her three small kids, husband, sister and brother-in-law (yours truly), and 5 or 6 friends. The race organizers, because it was unusually hot (80°) let this year’s runners skip this year’s run and comeback next year, hopefully with less heat. The next year was 2013, the year the bombers blew apart the finish area. It was an emotional experience being that close as we had been the year before. Towards the last endless miles, it was all up hill in Boston. I did not run but I put in some mileage lugging my gear and looking for good vantage points. By the end of the day I needed electrolytes as I was heat exhausted, searching for a bathroom, and my condition was nothing compared to the runners. I stuck by one of the misters the runners ran through to cool down. Only a mile to go. I like how the sunlight backlights the drops of water, layering the runners from the spectators. Some fell under the misters, others needed help, and many made it under their own power to the finish line.