I crossed the finish line at 1. I’m on the BAA team. This was my fifth marathon, first in Boston. The course is covered with people and whenever I began to die mentally, the people would lift me up. By Kenmore Square, I wasn’t seeing anyone anymore—I could just hear the voices. When I finished, it was one of the happiest days of my life, pure elation. I took a cab back to Brookline and I was walking down Dean Road when a police car came bombing down the street. Suddenly, everyone started calling me and texting. Once my family and I were all together, we just broke down. In Brookline, everything was shut down. There was this eerie, sickening feeling. Where do the survivors go?
—As told to Boston magazine. Photo by Scott M. Lacey