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Column published the week of April 20, 2009 www.theleeonline.com © 2009, Lee Ostaszewski

Third Monday in April

By Lee Ostaszewski Every year on the third Monday in April, called Patriots’ Day around here (everywhere else it’s known traditionally as “the third Monday in April”) we commemorate the beginning of the Revolutionary War and the famous “shot twittered ‘round the world.” On this day, people from all walks of life gather together in the pre-dawn hours on a quaint New England green in a quaint Massachusetts town to do what people around here have been doing for as long as anyone can remember: Running a marathon 26 miles into Boston. Meanwhile, another group gathers in Lexington, Mass. to watch a reenactment of the British march into that town more that two centuries ago and the ensuing skirmish that ensued when the patriots, fed up with being woken up so early by the British, especially on a holiday morning when they could sleep in, fought back. The reenactment would be incomplete were not every third spectator, including infants, drinking a specialty coffee purchased on their drive over. After the minutemen and British reenactors finish skirmishing, the spectators then descend, like over-caffeinated vultures, on the traditional pancake breakfast; the same way our forefathers descended on the traditional pancake breakfast that fateful morning in 1775. As for the Boston Marathon, this is my 20^th year living in Massachusetts, and I can proudly say that, while it wasn’t always easy and there have been many sacrifices and close calls along the way, I have managed not to run in it a single time. I have a perfect 0 and 20 marathon record. God willing, I will live long enough to see 0 and 60. I am the Opposite Johnny Kelley. He was the consummate marathoner, having run Boston a record 61 times before being forced into retirement by his death in 2004. When someone moves to this area, Kelley is one of those local legends they teach you about in New England citizenship classes, along with how to work the word wicked into a proper sentence, what ordering a regular coffee means, and why the eggs around here are brown but the cheese is

white. When I say it was difficult not running in a Boston Marathon for 20 consecutive years, I don’t mean to make it sound as if it was the hardest thing to do. For instance, actually running the Boston Marathon is probably much harder. For one thing, there is more training involved, and then comes the part when you physically run 26 miles. But I will tell you it is hard for someone like me who once upon a time did run long distance on purpose, as a form of exercise, not to have this faint voice in the back of my head say, “Meladfmlafp.” Then I ask the voice to speak up, because I can’t make out what it is saying on account of it being faint and way in the back of my head behind my cerebellum. Any way, the faint voice then moves up closer to just behind my eyeballs and says clearly, “We should run the Boston Marathon. It would be awesome. We can so totally do this.” Then I realize that the voice is the part of my brain that still thinks I am 19 years old. It is the same voice that convinces adults my age to try snowboarding for the first time, or attend a Cold Play concert instead of the concert of a mega group from the 1970s, whose members are all in their 60s now and whose 19-year-old voices told them they could go back on tour: “It would be awesome. We can so totally do this.” Not that our 19-year-old voice is always wrong. Some middle-aged people enjoy Cold Play concerts and don’t kill themselves snowboarding. And running a marathon might take rigorous training and be a struggle, but many people my age and older do it and seem to love the experience and the sense of accomplishment it provides. Also, most run for a charity and feel it is really a worthwhile event to participate in. See what I mean? It won’t be easy going another 40 years without running in one. But I’m determined to see it through, mostly watching it from my sofa every Patriots’ Day. Or as we fondly called the day in Arizona: the third Monday in April. ■