In five days, I will be running the Boston Marathon, the most celebrated 26.2 mile run in the United States. I'll have bib #3395, in case you'd like to follow the carnage in real-time. Near the starting line in Hopkinton, Massachusetts is a sign that says “It all starts here." Although the race does begin in that Boston suburb, each runner’s journey actually starts elsewhere. By the time we reach Hopkinton, we will begin our run with a sigh of relief for having finally arrived.

Since 1970, the Boston Athletic Association has maintained qualifying standards to ensure that the event, in their words that year, “is not a jogging race.” Those qualifying times have evolved quite a bit during the past 39 years, from 4 hours for all participants to gender-specific standards to the current model which matches a person’s age with a respective mark. Had I wanted to run the Boston Marathon during the 1980’s, I would have had to qualify with a 2:50. Today, my age group standard is a 3:10:59 or better. I am grateful for the relaxation of that threshold, because I am likely genetically incapable of breaking 2:50. (I should mention that it is possible to gain entry through community leadership, philanthropic service or simply “banditing the course.”)

These standards greatly enhance the prestige of the event. In a recent Runner’s World survey, 85% of respondents agreed that the BAA should continue to make participants earn their registration number in a previous marathon. This acceptance criterion transforms Boston from just another race to a long-term quest and a celebration for those who get there. The average entrant needs six full marathon attempts to finally qualify for the race. Thus, Monday's event is essentially a 42-kilometer exclamation point on a journey of thousands of thousands of miles of training and racing. The emotional impact of making the pilgrimage from Hopkinton to Copley Square can be huge. Add 112 years of history, streets lined with supporters and the participation of Olympians like Ryan Hall and Kara Goucher, and the 2009 Boston Marathon will be a life-changing experience for many of us.

Many people have asked me about my goal for Monday’s marathon. Anyone who knows me would find it impossible to believe that I would enter a race without a time/pace goal. Well, believe it. I have had many Boston alumni give me the wise advice of not ruining my experience by starting too fast, getting trapped in the crowd, missing all of the sights and sounds, and anguishing during the hilly latter third of the course. So, for once, I will not concern myself with how fast I think I can reach the finish line, but in how much of the journey I can soak in along the way. It’s not only a great learning experience for a goal-driven person like me, but the perfect excuse for letting Ryan Hall get an hour ahead of me!