WEST MILFORD — As she turned left onto Boylston Street, Sue Muhaw knew she was in the homestretch of this, her 13th Boston Marathon. She was euphoric, basking in the cheers of the thousands who came out to line the streets from Hopkinton to Boston on Patriots Day to cheer on the more than 27,000 runners who participate in this most prestigious race.
And then she heard one deafeningly loud boom; shortly after, another.
"It was so loud, my rib cage shook," said Muhaw, a health inspector with the West Milford Health Department.
She knew something must be wrong but she had no idea what, so she kept running, looking toward the distinctive blue and gold arch that marked the end of the 26.2 mile course. But she couldn't see it. It was too smoky.
"There was this eerie silence. It was as if everybody had left. But they hadn't," Muhaw recalled, a little over a week after the bombings near the finish line.
The kid running next to her asked what had happened. He thought maybe it was noise from an airplane or even a cannon marking the Patriot's Day holiday, Muhaw said. They wouldn't set off a cannon at this point in the race, she thought. Something is wrong. She was a few hundred feet from the finish line she would never reach and a man walked across the course holding a baby. "Have you seen my wife?" he asked Muhaw.
"It was like slow motion," she said, her voice trailing off. "People were walking aimlessly. I asked him 'Why are you here with the runners?' and he said 'There is no finish line. They blew it up. The finish line is gone.'"
Her favorite marathon
Muhaw, who lives in Montville in Morris County, has been running for 20 years, since the birth of her first daughter. She started running marathons about five years later at age 40. Her first marathon was in New York City - she estimates she's run about 50 so far - but it's the Boston Marathon that has captured her heart.
"The Boston Marathon, when you cross that finish line, it's all about the runners. The crowd comes to you," said Muhaw. "It's such a great marathon. It's a great course. The people are like no other."
Runners in the Boston Marathon must qualify for the privilege to run in this, the oldest marathon in the United States. It is festive, a true holiday in Boston. Residents come out and line the streets, doing their part to help the runners get to the next mile marker.
"At mile 14 you have the Wellesley girls," said Muhaw. "They are crazy! It's the halfway mark so it pumps you up. Heartbreak Hill is around mile 20, 21. Then you come up to the Boston College kids and the Boston University kids. They're just crazy! At mile 25, these people can take you when you're so tired and carry you."
And then you make the turn onto Boylston Street, then Copley Square and the huge blue and gold arch at the finish. But this year, as everyone knows, the unthinkable happened. Two brothers, originally from Chechnia, placed bombs amongst the crowd at the finish line, killing three spectators and injuring over 260 more. Several lost their limbs.
"They knew what they were doing," said Muhaw. "This was when the bulk of the runners come in. It's not the elite runners and not those running for fundraisers."
"Are you alive?"
Still stunned, Muhaw had to walk an additional mile and a half to get her personal items from the bus where she had left them earlier in the morning. By this time, she said, all you could hear were sirens. She had to plead with the bus driver to let her on to get her belongings, including her cell phone. When she got it, she saw there were many text messages from her husband. "Are you alive?" he asked. But there was no cell service for her to contact him.
"I started to sob," Muhaw said. "I thought, 'Oh my God, my poor family'."
She was able to text her husband, letting him and her two daughters know she was okay.
She had come to Boston with a group of 10 runners from Amazing Feet, a running club she belongs to. Later that night, they were all back at the Bed and Breakfast they stay at. One of her fellow runners lost a spouse on Sept. 11; another was there during it. She said she just doesn't understand why these things happen.
"These were innocent bystanders. You ask yourself 'Why?' It makes no sense that an eight-year-old boy would die watching a marathon."
Muhaw hasn't really been able to watch the news coverage of the bombing.
"I couldn't watch what had happened," she said. "The next day, I couldn't even look at the Boston Globe. The whole event felt surreal."
Looking to the future
It's been less than two weeks since the bombing. Muhaw said she felt okay when she was with her running friends, but when she got back home, her feelings changed. She described herself as easily irritated since it happened.
"I'm okay sometimes, but I'm edgy."
She isn't sleeping through the night, waking up with her thoughts back out on the Boston streets.
"I think about my kids and the world we're leaving them."
But her joyous memories of past Boston Marathons and the people who make it so special are too much of a pull.
"When I got back I thought 'never again.' I'm done with Boston. But I can't. I am going back next year. But it's not going to be the same."