Massachusetts
- Jul 11
- 27 min read
XFINITY BOSTON'S RUN TO REMEMBER
Boston, MA
Spilling the Tea Since 1773
Friday, May 22, 2026
"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." — The Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776
This year, as we commemorated the 250th anniversary of the United States becoming too cool for British rule, I could not think of a better place to spend Memorial Day weekend than at the site that sparked the Revolutionary War. My trip to Boston was filled with outstanding food, traveling back in time to our country’s founding via iconic historical sites and landmarks, and running the Xfinity Boston’s Run to Remember Half Marathon, which honors fallen first responders and supports Team Mass Fallen Heroes. Having spent time in Boston on many different occasions in the past for business and leisure, this would be my first half marathon in Massachusetts, marking the official halfway point in my journey to run a half marathon in all 50 states.
The Memorial Day weekend events of Boston’s Run to Remember accomplish a two-pronged mission: Honoring Massachusetts service members and fallen first responders who made the ultimate sacrifice since September 11, 2001, and supporting Gold Star families. On the evening of Friday, May 22, 2026, I was on a commercial aircraft flying direct from Kansas City to Boston, eating snacks and drinking freshly brewed peppermint tea atop my tray table. In a parallel universe, in 1773, a rebellion was brewing in the Boston Harbor.
History tells us the official spark of the American Revolution was ignited during the early morning hours of Wednesday, April 19, 1775, when British troops crossed the Boston Harbor with the intent of marching to Concord, Massachusetts, in an attempt to disarm the colonists. At 5:00 A.M. that morning, the Patriots stood in silence waiting for the sound of British boots approaching – after the militia had been warned of the approaching troops by Paul Revere and mounted scouts – while onlookers cautiously peeked out from windows from the surrounding houses.
An argument could be made that the road to American independence was more of a slow burn as opposed to a spark – the culmination of decades of pent-up resentment between the original thirteen American colonies and Great Britain, resulting in the rebellion that ultimately led to the sovereign United States of America. Following the conclusion of the French and Indian War in 1763, the British Parliament was hellbent on recouping wartime costs, taxing the very colonists who had fought in and supported the war. Representatives from the colonies descended upon New York City in protest of the Stamp Act, famously arguing against “taxation without representation,” a phrase still commonly used today across the political spectrum to express dissatisfaction with every echelon of government.
Even though the Stamp Act was repealed, Parliament passed the Townshend Acts, the catalyst of the 1770 Boston Massacre in which British troops were deployed to the colony of Massachusetts to stifle the rebellion. Feeling their message was not getting across, the Sons of Liberty orchestrated the Boston Tea Party in December of 1773, enthusiastically dumping chests of taxed tea owned by the British East India Company into the Boston Harbor. In response, Parliament attempted to cease self-government in Massachusetts by imposing a series of punitive laws, which backfired when support for the revolution only increased, and King George III officially declared that Massachusetts was in a state of rebellion.
The Second Continental Congress established the Continental Army in May 1775 with General George Washington at the helm, and by March 1776, the British were forced to withdraw by sea after the Continental Army surrounded Boston. Finally, on July 4, 1776, Congress unanimously adopted the Declaration of Independence. At around 11:00 P.M. on May 22, 2026, my Uber arrived at the Seaport Hotel Boston, and I approached the front desk to check in. A month prior, I was checking in at the President Abraham Lincoln Springfield DoubleTree for the weekend of the Lincoln Presidential Half Marathon, and saw Abraham Lincoln standing in line to check in after me. Abe set the bar pretty high, so I was a bit disappointed George Washington was not checking in at the Seaport.
Saturday, May 23, 2026
I discovered Tatte Bakery while visiting Boston in 2023 for the Trauma Research Foundation’s 34th Annual Boston International Trauma Conference. I had spent a transformative week with some of the most brilliant minds in psychology, neuroscience, therapy, holistic healing, and medicine, and one of the overarching messages throughout the conference was self-care. Part of my self-care routine quickly became my morning trips to Tatte Bakery, a family-owned business that began 17 years ago in Tzurit Or’s home kitchen. There are not enough words to describe how obsessed I quickly became with this bakery, and I was super excited to visit it again for this trip. Hopefully more than once. While window watching in the heart of the Seaport District that Saturday morning, I treated myself to Tatte’s signature pistachio tart, the Greek pancakes (my favorite menu item), and a Black Sesame Latte.
If you are planning on visiting Tatte after my rave review, I recommend stopping by as soon as they open, because as the morning goes on, the café gets packed with morning commuters during the week and locals on the weekends. While enjoying my breakfast, I planned out my itinerary for the day, which would include picking up pre-race breakfast at PopUp Bagels, a walking tour of the North End, Fanueil Hall Marketplace and Quincy Market, the Old Granary Burial Ground, Boston Common, having a Boston Cream Pie at the birthplace of the Boston Cream Pie, picking up my race packet at some point, and dinner at La Famiglia Giorgio’s with my friend Maggie, who would be running the race with me.
Whenever I travel for a race, I always make sure I assess the bagel situation beforehand. Boston’s bagel situation was definitely a positive experience, and a reminder of how much I love bagels on the East Coast. PopUp Bagels was founded in Connecticut and now has locations all up and down the Eastern Seaboard. Their Boston location was two blocks from my hotel, and nearly directly across the street from Tatte. When I walked in, there was a line out the door, and the shop itself was pretty tiny and consisted only of a walk-up counter to order and the bakery in the back.
I didn’t realize it until later, but standing in line in front of me was Roman Anthony, baseball outfielder for the Boston Red Sox. The starstruck cashier excitedly exclaimed, “You’re Roman Anthony!” Apparently, Mr. Anthony is a regular customer, and if PopUp is good enough for the Boston Red Sox, it would be good enough for me. I was a bit surprised that each guest was required to order 3 bagels at a time, instead of being able to order a single bagel. I didn’t complain, since they would all most certainly get eaten. In addition to a wide assortment of different bagels, there were also assorted options for “schmear.” I went with plain bagels and regular plain cream cheese schmear. They were both outstanding.
I took an Uber to Faneuil Hall Marketplace to kick off my North End walking tour. Considered one of the oldest residential neighborhoods in Boston along the Freedom Trail and Boston Harborwalk, the North End is home to historic landmarks, markets, restaurants, and a lively Italian community. Having grown up in New York and New Jersey, with my frequent visits to the Little Italy of New York City being my earliest exposure to the incredible Italian community and culture of the Tri-State Area, I felt at home discovering the North End is Boston’s own Little Italy with its cobblestone alleys, old-world European architecture, coffee shops, bakeries, and authentic Italian restaurants. One of the most famous landmarks housed in the North End is Faneuil Hall, the dual-purpose marketplace and meeting hall that has been in operation since 1742.
The marketplace complex consists of three separate historic buildings – Quincy Market, North Market, and South Market. The first floor of Faneuil Hall, which is an entirely separate building from Quincy Market right next door, consists of market stalls, shops, bars, and restaurants, as well as information about the history of the space and maps for the Freedom Trail. The second floor is the Great Hall, which consist of a military exhibit and was once the site of 18th century gatherings and town meetings, to include assemblies of resentful Boston colonists who would later support the rebellion. Activists of the 20th century continue the Great Hall’s revolutionary legacy of being a stage for peaceful assembly as they continue to use the space to advocate for the causes they support.
After browsing Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market and visiting the shops both inside and outside the buildings, I settled on Regina Pizzeria for lunch. Regina Pizzeria, like many of the local businesses with stalls set up inside the market, also has an individual physical location in the North End. One way or another, I was laser focused on getting a slice of pizza. In addition to my goal of running a half marathon in all 50 states, I have a secondary goal being accomplished in tandem, which is to try a slice of pizza in each of the 50 states. For my Massachusetts pizza, Regina Pizzeria delivered with the two slices I ordered: one pepperoni, and one chicken jalapeño pineapple goat cheese. Quincy Market has seating in the middle of the market on the first floor within the dome of the center of the building, and additional seating was available upstairs.
With every table occupied in every direction, I found standing room to eat my pizza at one of the wooden counters, set up for small-group communal dining when seating isn’t available. Strangers courteously made room for each other, and we had a mutual East Coast understanding that we could eat in silence beside each other, enjoying our gourmet meals, without any obligation to make small talk. All around us, there was the roar of the crowds of shoppers and diners, a melting pot of locals and tourists, and we all stopped to listen to street performers that were performing for us on the second level. People passing by showered a violinist with cash tips in appreciation, as she played instrumental covers of some of Taylor Swift’s greatest hits. When I finished my pizza, I stopped in the Best of Boston gift shop to pick up souvenirs for friends.
From the Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market complex, I began the half mile walk to the Granary Burying Ground. After crossing Congress Street, I walked up the set of steps at City Hall Plaza, and ensured I took some photos of the Boston sign. It was challenging to get a photo of the sign without any people, as there was a steady stream of tourists lining up to take photos. Seeing me idle with my phone in hand, several groups asked me to take a photo for them, and I obliged in the hopes they would quickly get out of the way so I could capture my photo of the sign. From City Hall Plaza I turned down Tremont Street to enter the cemetery. At the entrance of the Granary Burying Ground was a gentleman handing out yellow booklets he’d put together himself to hand out to visitors that outlined the layout of the gravestones and who was buried in each location.
At the center of the cemetery, standing in front of the 25-foot cement obelisk that marks the tomb of Benjamin Franklin’s parents, stood a Revolutionary War reenactor and tour guide, giving an orated history of the site to a cluster of tourists. The Granary Burying Ground is considered the third oldest cemetery in Massachusetts, serving as an eternal resting place for many patriots of the Revolutionary War and the five victims of the Boston Massacre. Among the estimated 5,000 people buried at the site, visitors can expect to see the graves of three of the signers of the Declaration of Independence – John Hancock, Samuel Adams, and Robert Treat Paine; Paul Revere, New England’s most notorious courier and Son of Liberty who was instrumental to the Boston Tea Party; Revolutionary War orator and lawyer James Otis; and Boston Massacre victims Crispus Attucks, Samuel Gray, James Caldwell, Samuel Maverick, and Patrick Carr.
Walking along the path that winds through the cemetery, I referred to the yellow booklet from the volunteer at the entrance to understand which grave I was in front of in the cases where the inscriptions and names were washed out from almost 200 years of erosion and difficult to make out. I was in awe when I stopped at the graves of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, and felt chills knowing they were literally resting beneath our feet. I wondered what they would think of us today and how far we’ve come, after signing their names and committing their lives to our freedom exactly a quarter of a millennium ago.
As I made my way towards the exit, I burst out laughing when I saw a gentleman in a long-sleeve shirt with "Make America Healthy Again" emblazoned on the back. The irony was the surreal juxtaposition of this man in the 20th century bearing the words of a modern campaign associated with our America in present day, while standing among the ghosts of our country's founders. Additionally, the figurative petition to Make America Healthy Again while standing in the middle of a cemetery was hilariously satirical.
After crossing the street and heading down Tremont towards Boston Common, I spotted a Boston Duck Tours bus passing the Park Street Church, and curiosity got the best of me. The "Land & Water" part caught my attention, and I knew I had to be part of whatever amphibious adventure those people were having. As the bus went by, I heard a tour guide’s narration describe the Granary Burying Ground and the patriots interred there, and after doing some quick research on my phone, I reserved myself a spot on a tour for the following afternoon after the race. A narrated tour of downtown Boston by land, and a cruise on the Charles River in the same trip, in the same vehicle? Sign me up!
Continuing my walking tour, my next stop was Boston Common, spanning 50 acres, and bordered by Tremont Street, Beacon Street and Boylston Street. Founded in 1634, the park is considered the oldest public park in the United States, and was once a mustering place for the Colonial militia during the Revolution. In 1776, Generals Washington and Lafayette and John Adams visited Boston Common to celebrate the newly independent United States. During the Civil War, the park was used for anti-slavery meetings and to recruit Union soldiers. Fast forward to the 20th century, and the park became a stage for the civil rights movement, with one of the most notable events being a civil rights rally led by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. himself.
Today, this beautiful green space not only is a destination for recreation and leisure, it continues to be a sanctuary for exercising freedom of speech. As I entered the park, I was immediately greeted by protestors chanting and handing out flyers, expressing their dissatisfaction with the current geopolitical situation in Cuba and the U.S. embargo. From Boston Common, I headed back up Tremont Street to Omni Parker House, passing the Granary Burying Ground in the other direction, which happens to be right across the street from Omni Parker House. Feeling sufficiently haunted by the ghosts of our forefathers and the framers of the Declaration of Independence after visiting their graves, I walked through the doors of what I later learned to be one of the most haunted hotels in New England, and also the longest continuously operating hotel in the country.
The birthplace of the Boston Cream Pie and Parker House Rolls was rumored to be the inspiration for Stephen King’s terrifying novel, 1408. Guests have reported encountering the spirit of the hotel’s founder, Harvey Parker, on the 10th floor, and one guest staying in room 1012 said she woke up to find a man smiling at the foot of her bed before vanishing. She later saw a portrait of Mr. Parker and believed definitively he was the man who she’d seen in her room. Stephen King’s 1408 was rumored to be based on the events that unfolded in Room 303 in the year 1949, when a liquor salesman committed suicide in that room, and every guest who stayed in that room following his suicide reported smelling whiskey and hearing unnerving laughter. Eventually the room was converted to a storage closet. The rumor about Room 303 being Stephen King’s inspiration for the novel was later debunked.
I had my own paranormal experience during my visit, corroborating the observations of many guests who have become suspicious of Elevator One. Elevator One has been witnessed randomly appearing on the 3rd floor without being called, and opening its doors to reveal an empty car. As I sat in the lobby enjoying my $12 Boston Cream Pie at one of the tables, I heard Elevator One ding, and when I looked up to see the beautiful, ornate, gold elevator doors slowly opening, I was intrigued that the car was empty. Or so I thought. I wondered which of the signers of the Declaration of Independence had followed me from the Granary Burying Ground, or perhaps Mr. Parker was just getting off the elevator to make his rounds of the lobby and check on the front desk staff.
The third possibility was the elevator apparition could have been the Ghost of Christmas Past. The Omni Parker House famously housed Charles Dickens as a guest during his American tour in 1867, and his first public reading of A Christmas Carol took place at the hotel. In any case, I am a firm believer in haunted hotels, with my most memorable supernatural experience occurring when I stayed at the Drury Plaza Hotel Broadview in Wichita, Kansas, during a conference. The Broadview is notoriously haunted by its most active ghost, Clarence. During my stay in 2019, I woke up suddenly in the middle of the night to the lamp on my nightstand being switched on, and I found my thermostat had been turned up to 84 degrees when I’d set it to 62 before going to bed. How I functioned the next day, I have no idea, but I definitely had some choice words for Clarence.
From the Omni, I took an Uber back to the Seaport Hotel to stop by the race expo and pick up my packet. The race expo opened at noon and remained open until 6:00 P.M. that evening, and was conveniently located on the second floor of the Plaza Ballroom. The ballroom was familiar to me, as it was the same venue where the International Trauma Conference had been held when I attended. Instead of being filled with hundreds of chairs wall to wall, set up for experts in neuroscience research, the ballroom was now packed with expo vendors and volunteers eagerly distributing race packets to runners.
I ended up purchasing a gray Brooks high-performance long-sleeved T-shirt with “Boston” across the front, and various sizes of merchandise were quickly selling out as hundreds of runners continued to file into the ballroom and snag their desired gear. The lines moved quickly and efficiently, and included with our race bibs were the official race shirts. I loved this year’s race shirt and actually ended up wearing it for the race.
Pre-race dinner involved returning to the North End for arguably the best Italian food in Boston. I was reunited with my friend Maggie, also a 50-Stater, who I met during the Bird-in-Hand Half Marathon in Pennsylvania. Maggie and I had carried each other to the finish line, during what was an unseasonably hot September day, and we’d had a couple of hours to become friends while trying not to die. Fortunately, Maggie and her husband live in Massachusetts, so there could not have been a better opportunity to catch up and run another race together. Being the Massachusetts native, I relied on Maggie for an excellent dinner recommendation, and La Famiglia Giorgio’s delivered.
The popularity of the restaurant was immediately evident when our Uber dropped us off at the entrance, where we were met with a line that went out the door and wrapped around the corner. It was about an hour wait to be seated, and it felt like the line moved pretty quickly as several parties of more than two people got seated at a time. We had plenty of time to chat with the people in line around us, and the hostess, who was fantastic. The atmosphere of the restaurant definitely delivered on the “Old World Italian” front, in keeping with their promise to customers to ensure we felt like we were dining at Grandma’s house.
The portions were positively huge, and we’d both ordered Maryann’s Favorite, which includes meatballs and a choice of pasta. I opted for the penne, my favorite pasta shape. Afterwards, we attempted to visit Mike’s Pastry for dessert – known for their legendary cannoli – and unfortunately the line was out the door and at least two blocks long with hundreds of Bostonians and visitors lined up to experience the Colosseum of Boston bakeries. Sufficiently stuffed from one of the best pre-race dinners I’ve ever had, I knew I was going to sleep great that night – provided, of course, that I had no ghostly visitors.
Boston is For Runnahs
Race Day: Sunday, May 24, 2026
"No matter what, it's going to be hard. Don't confuse it getting hard with it being not your day. You should expect it to be hard. It's a hard event." — Boston Marathon Champion Des Linden, 2017 Business Insider interview
When you say you’re running a race in Boston, the first question you’re going to get asked is whether you’re running the Boston Marathon. Boston’s relationship with running began in 1897, when the inaugural Boston Marathon sealed the city’s fate as the spiritual home of American road racing. In the running community, a shared dream many runners have is to run a qualifying time for the Boston Marathon and earn a coveted spot in the race. Because qualifying is so competitive and requires a level of elite athleticism many aspire to, and qualifying spots are so limited, the event offers raising money for charity and earning a charity bib as an additional avenue for entry. So, although I would be running in Boston, through the same streets and passing the same landmarks as many legendary Boston Marathon finishers have, I was not running in the Boston Marathon. I was also not expecting to run a Boston qualifying time either, though I was feeling pretty optimistic that day.
I rolled out of bed on Sunday morning at 5:00 A.M., having gotten an inordinate amount of quality sleep overnight. The night before a race for me is characteristically marked by terrible quality sleep or no sleep at all, so I felt very hopeful about performing well during this race. Before heading down to the lobby to meet Maggie, I scarfed down my vitamins and one of my bagels and schmear from PopUp Bagels, and after checking the weather I debated considerably if I needed to pack my rain poncho in my CamelBak. The forecast called for a rainy morning that was predicted to let up mid-way through the race, if it rained at all. I didn’t want to carry it if it wasn’t needed, but on the same token, if we ended up with a downpour well into the course, I knew I would be kicking myself later. Reluctantly, I shoved the poncho in my bag and headed downstairs.
The race organizers anticipated around 10,000 runners and spectators, and we were directed to arrive at the start no later than 6:00 A.M. Considering the starting line was right outside the hotel on Seaport Boulevard, Maggie and I felt comfortable enough to sit in the lobby and hang out inside as opposed to lining up too early. The lobby was packed with runners clamoring to stay warm and dry until the absolute last possible minute we needed to line up in the corral, and the closer we got to the start time of 7:00 A.M., the more runners trickled into the lobby. I stepped outside the lobby and felt the cool 53-degree air, and in those few minutes, the sky was clear with no precipitation and a breeze holding steady at 5 miles per hour. On impulse, I ran back up to my room and dropped off my poncho, confident that even if we encountered a little rain, I wouldn’t be too uncomfortable or freezing in this perfect temperature. I took advantage of one last bathroom break before heading to the start.
As soon as Maggie and I stepped outside to line up at the start, a light rain began. Because of course it did, after I decided I didn’t need the poncho. We stood under an awning for a few minutes to stay dry, until we saw volunteers begin closing the corral, and we knew we were down to the wire and needed to get in the corral. We took our place, shoulder to shoulder with the thousands of other runners, wishing each other good luck as we found our pace groups. I decided to employ my race strategy I’d had success with during the most recent past races, which was to start out with a much faster pace group in the beginning since I knew I’d probably slow down on the back end of the race. Spectators and Massachusetts State Troopahs ("Staties") lined the pedestrian bridge on World Trade Center Avenue, looking down at us in the corrals and acknowledging us with waves and cheers.
After the National Anthem was sung and we began advancing towards the timing mat, a familiar iconic banjo riff blasted over the speakers, and we crossed the start to the Dropkick Murphys singing "Shipping Up to Boston." It was the most brilliant kickoff to our epic tour of historic downtown Boston, and it was everything I could have expected. Having become an unofficial anthem for Boston following the release of the movie The Departed, I would have actually been disappointed if any other song had been played.
The hype didn’t stop with “Shipping Up to Boston” – throughout the entire event, the streets were lined with cheering spectators and we could feel the heartbeat of the city through their love and support. It went without saying that Boston had become even more fiercely protective of the running community since the 2013 Boston Marathon Bombing, and there was no question many of us were running to commemorate the five who lost their lives as a result; in honor of the hundreds of victims who had been injured; and most importantly – we ran in solidarity with Boston, which resiliently is still coming together over a decade later in the wake of the worst terrorist attack on U.S. soil since 9/11. Volunteers at every aid station were so enthusiastic that we could see it in their smiles they were genuinely happy to have us there with them, and throughout the course the police officers, state troopers, EMTs and firefighters who were volunteering were just as ecstatic to greet us with high-fives and smiles. When we thanked them, they thanked us back in equal gratitude for our support.
Our first mile served up several notable landmarks before we even left Seaport Boulevard. The Institute of Contemporary Art was to our right as we approached the bridge across the Fort Point Channel. While crossing the bridge, the Boston Tea Party Ships and Museum was to our left. I made a note to return to the bridge the next morning to take some eerie photos of the 18th century Tea Party ships shrouded in the early morning New England fog. The first mile wrapped up after we ran past the New England Aquarium, which I would visit later that afternoon for the Boston Duck Tours. At the start of Mile 2, we headed down State Street and passed the Museum of Illusions, Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market, the Old State House, and City Hall Plaza. Mile 2 felt comforting and familiar, as I’d thoroughly explored much of this stretch of the course the day before. Cambridge Street took us past the Otis House Museum, and Massachusetts General Hospital.
When we reached the intersection of Cambridge Street at Charles Circle, the course split, and half marathoners kept right over the Longfellow Bridge, while those running the 5-Miler diverted to the left. Mile 3 took us across the Longfellow Bridge over the Charles River, where I would later spend time on the water in an amphibious bus with the Duck Tours. Once across the river, we hooked a right onto Memorial Drive, and looped around back south, passing Triangle Park in both directions. I believe it was this part of the course where police officers lined the street with their lightbars flashing, and stood outside their patrol vehicles to shake our hands, high five us, and cheer us on.
I was overwhelmed with emotion and definitely cried, as I’m sure many others might have. As we continued further down Memorial Drive along the river, we were treated to spectacular foggy views of the Boston skyline. We ran along the river for two more miles, and Miles 5 through 7 took us past Magazine Beach and part of the Harvard University campus. At the John F. Kennedy Memorial Intersection, past the Weld Boat House, we looped back around and headed back down Memorial Drive, heading east, with Harvard now on our left. The great thing about this course was if you discovered you missed out on seeing a particular landmark, there was always a chance to see it again, as the course doubled back several times.
During Mile 8 we got up close and personal with the MIT campus, which was now on our left as we continued on Memorial Drive heading into Mile 9. After passing the MIT campus, we turned right back on to the Longfellow Bridge for a second crossing of the Charles River. Mile 10 took us south on Charles Street and then right on Beacon Street, where we passed the northwest corner of Boston Common. This took us to my absolute favorite part of the entire course, which was a loop on Commonwealth Avenue in Boston's Back Bay neighborhood from Arlington Street to Clarendon Street. Commonwealth Avenue is affectionately known as “Comm Ave” to Bostonians, lined with a canopy of trees and stunning Victorian brownstones.
I had not taken any pictures on the course until this point, so my only photos while running were of the beautiful Renaissance Revival townhouses and historic mansions on Commonwealth Avenue, which showcased the coastal New England charm Boston is known for. Mile 11 began while we were on the second leg of Commonwealth Avenue heading back towards Boston Common, and we made a left from Arlington Street onto the Boylston Street, globally famous as the official finish line of the Boston Marathon (more precisely located near Copley Square). After completing Mile 12, our final mile took us past the Old South Meeting House — the historic birthplace of the Boston Tea Party — and down Congress Street past Post Office Square. After another brief leg on Atlantic Avenue, we made a left onto the Seaport Boulevard bridge and headed back down Seaport Boulevard into the Seaport District for the finish.
Thousands of spectators lined both sides of the finish chute, and the announcer rattled off the names of each finisher as we crossed the timing mat for the final time. The world seemed to fall away as I retreated deep into the zone and my focus carried me to the finish, my thoughts drowning out the roar of the crowd. After crossing the finish, I looked down to stop my watch, and my heart leaped when I saw my finish time – a new personal record and my best finish time in 8 years. During her historic 2018 Boston Marathon victory, Des Linden recited the mantra, "Just show up for one more mile. Show up for one more minute." I found myself borrowing Des's mantra quite often when I really needed to dig deep on parts of this course, especially with Boston being notorious for its hills. I didn’t wake up that morning and go into this race thinking my new PR would be in Boston, but here we are.
Maggie and I reunited at the finish to congratulate each other and say our farewells, and then I headed up to my room to shower and change into dry clothes for the rest of the afternoon's adventures. A light rain started falling as I began my mile-long soggy trek from the hotel to Drydock Avenue for brunch at Chickadee. This time, I wore my poncho, and it went with me everywhere the rest of the day, since the rain did not let up until the next morning. My motivation in selecting Chickadee was not only for their fantastic-looking menu, it was also because Flynn Cruiseport was right around the corner, and I'd known in advance that the Norwegian Breakaway would be in port. The Breakaway holds a very special place in my heart and carries with it memories of family vacations, including surviving Hurricane Dorian. I couldn't leave Boston without saying hello to the Breakaway.
Chickadee is a Mediterranean-inspired small business right at the edge of the Seaport District, and what caught my eye immediately was the lemon ricotta pancakes. I ordered a short stack of them and two scrambled eggs, plus orange juice and coffee. I’m sure if I’d ordered anything on the brunch menu, I couldn’t have made a mistake. The pancakes were predictably outstanding. When the brunch crowd started trickling in around noon, that was my cue to head to the cruise port, since it was quickly becoming too people-y. I rounded the corner on Drydock Avenue and walked the short distance to the port, and the rain was coming down steadily.
I crossed the parking lot and came face-to-face with the Breakaway, placidly moored at Black Falcon Terminal. Thinking about the Boston Tea Party ships we’d seen while crossing the bridge, I imagined what it would be like to be from the 1770’s seeing this behemoth of a ship 250 years in the future, and how miraculous and impossible it was that something of this size could stay afloat. I stood there with the ship for a few minutes, filled with nostalgia and some sadness knowing I wasn’t boarding it. I thought of all of the passengers already on the ship, finding their cabins, avoiding the pool deck under the overcast sky, looking forward to whatever itinerary awaited them for the week. I hoped they were going somewhere warm.
My tour with Boston Duck Tours was scheduled for 3:30 P.M., and I arrived about 30 minutes early at the New England Aquarium prior to our departure. As the pouring rain came down in sheets, I stood with the other passengers, shivering in the bus shelter while we waited to board our amphibious bus, affectionately called a “Duck.” One gentleman hurried out of the bus shelter to purchase a poncho for his wife at the last minute, and again I found myself thankful I’d worn mine. Our ConDUCKtor, Bobby, enthusiastically greeted us and welcomed us aboard our Duck, Symphony Hal. Seats were assigned, and we all took our seats and listened to the safety brief. The passengers in my tour group consisted of several families with very young children under 10, couples, and a couple of solo travelers like myself. If you’re considering this tour, it was fun and entertaining for all adults and children, especially history buffs like me.
A dad sitting in the row across from me with his two young twin sons, Rocky and Rocko (yes, those were really their names, according to their parents), unzipped the window flap so his sons could get a better view. With the window unzipped, I knew I was going to freeze for the whole hour and a half, and potentially get wet if the rain decided to go sideways, but I was still super grateful to be sitting after being on my feet for about 15 miles earlier. I wrapped my poncho tighter around me and made sure it covered my legs to insulate the little body heat I had. The tour was worth every penny, especially since Duck Tours is the only tour operator that traverses both land and water. We cruised through the Charles River and the neighborhoods, passing historic landmarks as Bobby provided a very animated narration and kept us engaged.
I couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of nervous anticipation when we approached the boat ramp, and it hit home that we were literally going to be driving into the river. Another Duck emerged from the boat ramp before we entered, and we were encouraged to greet the guests on the passing Duck with an enthusiastic, “Quack, quack!” The logical part of my brain knew we were safe, and this was going to be extremely fun, but my lizard brain immediately went on high alert as soon as our front wheels touched the water. Once the boat engine kicked on and we began cruising as a boat, Bobby explained that our fantastic driver, Diamond, was no longer a bus driver, but she was now a ship captain, certified through the U.S. Coast Guard to operate a vessel with a U.S. Coast Guard Captain’s License.
Bobby and Diamond were the highlight of every kid’s day that afternoon when they asked each child if they wanted to drive the boat, and let them each come up to take photos and pilot the Duck under Diamond’s supervision. The highlight of my day was having the honor of being invited by Bobby to sign the roof of the Duck, a tradition in which the roof is signed only by U.S. military veterans. I signed my name, and proudly wrote "USMC" and my years of service.
I wrapped up a very eventful day with Gordon Ramsay Burger for dinner. I took an Uber straight from New England Aquarium to the restaurant after the tour, and was pleasantly surprised to be seated right away upon my arrival. Skeptics standing outside the restaurant who had seen me said, “Good luck, it’s probably a long wait.” Joke was on them – you don’t know until you go in and ask for a seat. I sat at the bar, which was full service, and ordered a Hell’s Kitchen Burger. I have no words to adequately describe how insane this burger was. Just look at it.
Monday, May 25, 2026
Monday morning, Memorial Day, was my travel day, and because my flight wasn’t scheduled to depart until later in the evening, I enjoyed two more meals in Boston. I couldn’t leave without visiting Tatte one last time for breakfast. For this second round, I ordered a pear tart and the House Breakfast Plate, which included two eggs, applewood-smoked bacon, potato fritters with mint parmesan, tomato jam, and a slice of fresh baked sourdough. The Honey Halva Latte, a year-round menu staple, was my coffee choice for this meal. My race recovery day was already off to a great start.
After breakfast, I made the trek back up the Seaport Boulevard bridge over the Fort Point Channel, and found an ideal spot to snap some photos of the Boston Tea Party Ships and Museum's 18th century ships, enveloped in the morning mist. It was so Boston. I found a staircase at the side of the bridge that borders Martin’s Park, and walked along the harbor walk to capture the Boston skyline in the background of some photos. And, because Medal Monday fell on Memorial Day, I made sure to juxtapose my race medal into a photo that included the Tea Party ships and the Boston skyline.
By the time I’d packed up, checked out of the hotel, and left my luggage locked up with the front desk for the rest of the afternoon before my departure, it was time for lunch. I walked the two blocks to Rosa Mexicano, and was relieved to find they were open on Memorial Day. Several other businesses were closed, and although that limited the options, I’d intended to try out Rosa Mexicano at some point during my trip anyway. I arrived early enough that the restaurant was completely empty, however I’d always seen it packed when I walked by during dinner hours over the weekend.
Rosa Mexicano brings together the flavors of Mexico with creative elevated twists, and the best example of this for me came in the form of the brunch special I ordered – the Tres Leches French Toast. It was topped with a berry compote and served with milk and honey on the side. Not only was it as amazing as it looks, but I loved pairing it with the chips and salsa that came with my table. Although I was the only guest for a little while, I felt so appreciated and taken care of by the wait staff, and when a family showed up with two young boys under the age of 10, one of the waiters absolutely dazzled them by making guacamole in front of them and letting them help make the guacamole for their table. 10/10 would visit Rosa again.
Saturday, July 4, 2026
On July 18, 1776, Bostonians gathered under the balcony of the Old State House to hear the Declaration of Independence read publicly for the first time by Colonel Thomas Crafts. Only two weeks prior, renowned Bostonians John Hancock, Samuel Adams, and Robert Treat Paine had affixed their signatures to the document that formally severed our country’s ties to Great Britain. Every July 4th, for the past 250 years, crowds assemble at Boston’s Old State House for a traditional public reading of the Declaration from the same balcony. Boston’s July 4th parade then halts at the Granary Burying Ground, where wreaths are laid at the graves of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. This 4th of July, as I sat on the lawn of the recreational complex at my hometown fireworks show with my family beside me, tens of thousands of people listened to the most patriotic fireworks show opening most of us have ever heard. Below is an excerpt, which I felt was the best way to close this blog post:
"They signed their names to a new beginning. After 250 years, the spirit of freedom still burns. We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal, and they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights, and among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Freedom, though, is not free. Nor is it given. Freedom is won. Freedom won through the service of generations of men and women proud enough to not just fly our flag, but fearlessly defend it. Freedom paid for by those who made the ultimate sacrifice, giving their lives to protect this great nation… A symbolic tribute to every Soldier since 1776, who has placed the ideals of that Declaration of Independence above that of their own lives, ideals founded at home by the patriots of the American Revolution."
LODGING RECOMMENDATION:
Seaport Hotel Boston
1 Seaport Ln
Boston, MA 02210
Happy running and safe travels,
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