The return to Boylston was a time of revival.

for the running of the 118th Boston Marathon, I overhear a fellow runner

tell her friend, “Whenever I run Boston, I feel like I’m Clark Kent turning into Superman.” I know what she means. At this moment, I feel like I’m faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.

\ t the start line: As my son, Adam, and I wait for the starting gun to go off

Mile six: Both sides of Waverly Street in Framingham are filled with screaming fans, 10 deep. Many are holding placards or wearing T-shirts emblazoned with a simple but powerful message: “Boston Strong.” I see a young boy holding up a large photo of Martin Richard, the 8-year-old victim of last year’s bombing.

Most of these fans have come out not only to cheer the runners on but also to honor those fallen in last year’s race. As I run by the exuberant fans, I’m reminded of what the winner of the 72th Boston Marathon, Amby Burfoot, told us during the “Boston Marathon Legends” presentation at the previous day’s race expo: “It wasn’t the runners who were attacked last year, it was the spectators. So be sure to high-five as many as you can for 118 years of support and for giving fast and slow alike the thrills of a lifetime.”

Mile 12: As Adam and I near the Wellesley College campus, we hear the shrill screams of coeds who have lined Central Street. Most of the women have signs, like “Kiss me, I’m Italian.” One was so original, I had to stop to take a photo. It was an equation that read:

f (x,y) = x kiss y

f (you, me) =?

Most pleasing to my ears were the shouts of “Go, Chapman!” when the coeds

recognized the “Chapman University” name on my running shirt. One coed even

stopped to tell me that she had wanted to attend Chapman but Wellesley gave her a bigger scholarship. Ooh . . . that hurt!

Clockwise: Carboloading homemade pasta with cousin Franco Siracusa. Adam and | at the start. Wellesley coed with that interesting equation. Boston Strong signs were everywhere.

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2014 BOSTON fro Hancock 9

Clockwise: Running legend Kathrine Switzer signing my bib. My race bib, the source of my inspiration during the race. Adam and | after the race with our medals. Flashing “50″ for completing my 50th marathon.

Mile 16: Adam and I hit the first of the four Newton hills. These are not major uphills, but after running downhill for most of the previous 15 miles, my quads are starting to scream. It’s also getting hotter. While 75 degrees may sound pleasant, runners generally start to heat up when the temperature exceeds 60 degrees. At this point in the race, I feel like my head has been zapped in a microwave oven for 40 seconds.

Mile 19: We hit the third Newton hill. Pounding the pavement has become so painful that my pace has slowed to the point where even walkers are passing me. Now, more than ever, I need inspiration, and looking down at my race bib, I find it.

At the Legends talk, Kathrine Switzer spoke about how running makes us feel fearless in a fearful world. She told us that it was with that attitude in mind that she decided to be the first woman to register to run the Boston Marathon. That happened in 1967, five years before women were officially allowed to compete. The name she gave on her entry form was “K. V. Switzer.”

Race officials didn’t realize that “K. V.” was a woman. So not suspecting anything amiss, they sent her bib #261. But when the race director saw (horror of horrors!) a woman racing with an official bib, he tried to grab her number and force her off the course. An iconic photo of that scene with Kathrine evading “capture” has inspired male and female runners alike ever since.