BOSTON — As the four-hour mark of last week’s Boston Marathon passed, a large bulk of runners neared the end of the race.
After months upon months of vigorous training, they all had the same goal: cross the finish line.
But they were stopped short.
Confusion, frustration and chaos ensued, but when runners found out that there were multiple bombings at the finish line on Boylston Street, they were just thankful to be alive.
Rachael Higgins of Rockport was running her first marathon as a member of the Massachusetts General Marathon Team, whose participants were raising money for children with cancer.
The pediatric nurse had passed the 25.5-mile marker and was a few minutes from the finish line when she was stopped.
“People came out and stopped us from running and I didn’t know what was going on,” Higgins said. “My first thought was ‘why are people stopping? I need to keep going, the finish line is so close.’ And then someone came over and told us there was an explosion.”
Naturally, Higgins was upset that she could not finish, but she also understood the magnitude of the situation that had just occurred a few blocks away.
“I was mad that I couldn’t cross the finish line, but mostly really scared,” she said. “I knew my family and boyfriend had just crossed the finish line and we didn’t know any details. Everybody kind of assumed the worst.”
Higgins was too far from the finish to initially grasp what had happened, but Lizzie Lee of Lynnwood, Wash., who was about two blocks from the tape at the time of the explosions, immediately concluded that it was an attack.
“As soon as I heard it, as soon as I saw the smoke, I knew … I knew that it was a bomb,” Lee said.
The 56-year-old engineer had traveled over 3,000 miles to run in the race, yet she had no feelings of anger for not crossing the finish line.
“(To not finish) means nothing,” she said. “It really doesn’t mean anything. For me, it was totally right to stop.”
Also traveling a great distance to compete was Jody Zylstra of Annandale, Minn. The 34-year-old had trained for eight years before finally qualifying for this year’s marathon, and was two-tenths of a mile from the finish line when the bombs went off.
“It was frustrating to try so hard for eight plus years,” Zylstra said. “Just to get here has been an uphill battle and to get here and not really finish was heartbreaking.”
But surpassing Zylstra’s frustration was her fear. She had family members waiting for her at the finish line, but had no way of contacting them due to poor cell phone service. Furthermore, the police directing her in the opposite direction and her general lack of knowledge of the area only compounded her emotion.
Read about Zylstra’s chaotic search for her family.
However, the citizens of Boston quickly stepped in to comfort Zylstra and other misplaced runners to make sure they were safe could find their loved ones.
“I had just run 26 miles, I was cold and I didn’t know what to do, where I was going,” Zylstra said. “So many people walked up to me and said, ‘What can I do to help you, what can I give you, what can I do?’
“People were really very supportive,” she continued. “One thing that I’ve been impressed with since this has all happened is just the real sense of community. It really is ‘Boston Strong.’”
Jane Raabis, 56, of Worcester was a half-mile from the finish line when she was stopped. She witnessed the city of Boston come together as one to tend to the fallen. It was a reaction that Raabis expected from a city that she knew so well.
“I wasn’t surprised at all,” she said. “It is what it is: strong. And that’s what the marathon is all about.”
For Zylstra, her first trip to Boston will certainly be a memorable one, but despite last week’s tragedy, she plans to race again.
“I can’t let this be my last experience here,” she said. “I have to cross that finish line officially, so I’ll be back.”
Raabis also stands with a positive attitude, and aims to eventually complete the race that she started last Monday, and was oh-so-close to finishing.
“I’ll come back and run that half-mile someday,” she said. “I can still run today. Not everybody who was here on Monday gets to say that.”
Taylor C. Snow can be reached at [email protected].