Third Time’s the Charm: My 2025 Boston Marathon Story
By Tricia Goeldner

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In 2019, I gave myself a bold 50th birthday gift: to run the Boston Marathon. I went out too fast, got hit with calf cramps, and crossed the finish line in 4:01—shivering, cramping, and stumbling my way back to my hotel. I skipped the race food (just looking at it made me queasy), took a hot bath, and was checked on by a concerned family member—a pediatrician sent by my brother-in-law. No electrolytes, no real recovery plan… just grit and a lot of lessons learned.

In 2021, I ran again. It was the pandemic-postponed 125th Boston Marathon held in October. I trained hard, went with my partner at the time, and once again went out too fast. The wheels came off before the halfway point. I stopped at multiple medical tents looking for help with calf cramps. I crossed the line in 4:20, disappointed and humbled.

This year, in 2025, I went in with a new plan and a new purpose. My son, Josh, wrote my training plan. I followed it closely—minus the speedy intervals (winter treadmill sprints aren’t my forte). I battled some ankle issues and plantar fasciitis, took a few days off for illness, but stayed mostly on track. The best part? I was headed to Boston with Josh. He had to postpone his own marathon debut due to injury, but his support never wavered. He was my coach, my cheerleader, and my inspiration.

Race weekend was filled with nerves and excitement. At the expo, Josh and I soaked in the electric atmosphere. On race morning, I stressed over what to wear, finally opting for clothing that was well worn and reliable. Josh ordered me a Lyft and promised to see me on Heartbreak Hill.

At Boston Common, I met Janet, a runner from Mexico. It was her first Boston, but she’d completed 10 marathons and trained with a run group six days a week, running up to 140 km per week. My peak week was just under 90 km. We found a bus together and shared excited conversation all the way to Hopkinton. I stayed with her until our corrals split—she was in Wave 5, I was in Wave 7.

The race started at 10:50. I chatted with a woman from Regina who was wearing a Canada singlet, in the starting corral, she said it was a statement against the 51st state comment. In the moments before the race I felt the familiar buzz of anticipation. As the crowd began to move, I repeated my mantra: Finish strong. Josh had even written it on my wrist.

The ankle and heel held up. I kept my pace in check and soaked in the sights and sounds—live bands, spectators cheering, music everywhere. In one town, a band played “Sweet Caroline” and runners raised their arms, singing along. Wellesley girls offered hugs “for speed,” and some runners gladly took them up on it.

My nutrition plan was solid—gels every 45 minutes, salt pills as needed. I gave Janet a few salt tabs after she realized she’d forgotten hers. I only had one gel left when I realized the aid stations hadn’t appeared yet, so I postponed using it—a decision I’d feel later.

The second half brought the hills. I kept pushing, one step at a time, digging into the discomfort. I didn’t stop. I crested Heartbreak Hill—still no sign of Josh. But just after, on a downhill stretch, I heard my name. I turned to see Josh, cheering from the side. It was like fuel for my soul. He ran beside me for a stretch, offering encouragement and love.

The cramps came and went. I took a gel, popped a salt tab, and kept going. The crowd’s energy carried me. The last few kilometers were grueling—each turn onto downtown streets felt endless. I could see the finish line, but just as I tried to push, a cramp hit hard, stopping me in my tracks. I stretched, gathered myself, and ran on.

I crossed the finish line in 3:57:54.

Under 4 hours.

I had done it—finally, a Boston Marathon on my own terms. Strong, steady, and grateful.

I celebrated with Josh and shared the joy with my daughter Jess. I’m filled with appreciation for my running group, my friends, my incredible partner, and this beautiful, humbling journey.

Boston 2025 was not just a race—it was a full-circle moment.

Sending a huge congratulations to Danika Potvin who had a miraculous race and finished Boston with a PB.

I am officially a Boston marathoner.

by Danika Potvin

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I’ve run many races in my life, but this one was personal. A dream come true.

This finish line was earned through many early mornings, countless hours of training, and the heavy pull of tired legs that never gave up. It was built on the struggles that made me stronger, the community that lifted me up, and the dream that kept me going.

Boston isn’t just any race, it’s magic. But that magic doesn’t come easy. The course demands everything you’ve got. The Newton Hills test your strength, and Heartbreak Hill lives up to its name. The crowds lifted me when my legs wanted to quit. I’ve never experienced anything like it.

It seriously took a village to get me here, my amazing family, friends, coaches, training partners, and the incredible running community. Every cheer, every word of encouragement, and every mile shared brought me to this moment. This finish line belongs to all of us.

@bostonmarathon, thank you. You were everything I imagined and more. I’ll carry this one forever