About two dozen Coulee Region runners will be jostling with more than 35,600 others in the Boston Marathon Monday — partly to defy the terror inflicted when two deadly bombs halted the race last year.
“One of the reasons is to show I’m not going to let you intimidate me. That’s what terrorism does,” said Rachel Klistaui of La Crosse, who will be running the 26.2-mile course for the second time. “I want to let them know they can’t scare me.”
Local participants run the gamut, from 36-year-old Alison Huppert, whose goal is to run a marathon in all 50 states by the age of 40, to Rob Schroeder, a 32-year-old who has used running to help him recover from drug addiction.
They qualified for the nation’s most iconic race by meeting designated times at other marathons throughout the nation, although a few have exemptions from previous years.
Several who ran last year still harbor emotional scars suffered when two brothers exploded pressure-cooker bombs, killing three and injuring more than 260.
“It’s still hard for me to wrap my mind around it,” said Jim Stenulson of Onalaska, president of the River City Running Club. “I was safely back in the hotel, but it’s hard to accept that people were blown apart.”
Asked whether he experienced survivor’s guilt, Stenulson said, “Initially, you feel you lost part of your experience, but then you feel guilty for feeling that way.”
Stenulson and other local runners expressed confidence that the 118th Boston Marathon will be safe as the Commonwealth of Massachusetts celebrates Patriots’ Day.
“I feel this will be the safest Boston ever, with all of the precautions added,” said Amy Zietlow of Onalaska.
Zietlow, 50, a Mary Kay director whose first marathon was halted at 25.8 miles because of the bombings, said, “It was very hard for us. We didn’t know what happened. We asked, but it was scary and chaotic.”
Zietlow said she and a high school friend experienced comfort from strangers as they struggled to find their way back to their hotel amid the pandemonium and crush of people crowding the sidewalks.
“We did have complete strangers who gave us food and literally the coats off their backs,” she said.
“I’m excited to go back,” she said. “It will be emotional.”
The brutal winter complicated training this year, Zietlow said.
“It was pretty difficult,” she said. “The weather wasn’t very cooperative, but I didn’t do any running inside. If it was really bad one day, I would wait until a day that was not so bad.”
Training partners Kristie Shappell of La Crosse and Judy Schmidt of Sparta also attested to the burden of running in subzero temperatures. They have a photo of themselves with frosty faces and stocking caps after one of their training jaunts.
“We’ve been running since January, and we ran outside for every long run” of up to 22 miles, said Shappell, a 57-year-old ophthalmologist at Gundersen Health System whose first Boston Marathon was cut short last year.
“We go to 22,” she said. “We figure if you get to 22, you can get to 26.2.”
The coldest she recalls running in was minus 13, she said, saying, “That day was soooooo cold.”
They also wore Yaktrax, rubberized coils like old-fashioned tire chains that attach to shoes to provide a better grip in snow and ice, she said.
“They’re really clever, and they allow you to run without slipping,” she said.
Training on ice and snow took their toll on 53-year-old Deb Markos of Onalaska, resulting in a pelvic stress fracture that prevents her from running Monday.
Markos, who was within 50 yards of the first bomb that exploded near the finish line last year but was not injured, is crestfallen. She had hoped that competing in Boston again would help mend the psychological scars from her brush with death.
“It’s been hard, knowing that I can’t go and get that closure,” said Markos, associate principal at Logan High School in La Crosse. “It would have been part of the healing process. Now, I’m on the sideline.”
Shappell also recalls the confusion that erupted when she was several blocks from finishing her first Boston Marathon.
“I thought it would be my last Boston Marathon, so I was going slower, and taking pictures,” she said. “Then it went from being one of the best days of my life to the worst. I’m excited to run across the finish line to support the people who were injured.”
Schmidt, a payroll clerk for the city of Sparta, also cited lingering effects from the bombs.
“Because I didn’t see what happened, it helped,” she said. “But the first time I ran in La Crosse after that, I heard a siren and flashed back to all of the sirens that day.”
Rob Schroeder of La Crosse has a unique motivation for competing for the first time.
“As a recovering drug addict, running is a transition for me to focus on,” Schroeder said. “It was a lifestyle change, a new way of living. I embraced the running culture, and it changed my life. I’ve met a lot of great people.”
The warehouse forklift operator said he did a lot of cycling and swimming to train, as well as outdoor running, during which Old Man Winter pulled the rug out from under him.
“Seven weeks ago, I slipped on the ice and broke my arm,” he said, but it has healed and he is ready to run.
The marathon’s date is significant, Schroeder said, adding, “That’s my three-year clean date. It’ll be pretty memorable.”
Alison Huppert had an unusual reason for not competing last year — having done so in 2009, 2010 and 2011, she had crossed Massachusetts off of her bucket list to run marathons in all 50 states. With 22 down, she was focusing on new states.
“I wanted to go this year to show support. It is such an amazing race — no other race is like it. It’s important to be there,” said Huppert, program operations director at the La Crosse Area Family YMCA.
“Running brings me joy — not just the physical, but also the mental and spiritual component,” she said. “That’s important to me, and meeting people from all over.”
Huppert’s running partner, Rachel Klistaui, said, “We have done so many together, she’s a good support for me.”
Acknowledging that Huppert is the faster runner, Klistaui said it’s always nice to have her waiting at the finish line.
“Some people are fast,” said Klistaui, a social worker. “I’m more at the back of the front, or the front of the middle. There are people it comes naturally to, but for some of us, it takes more work.”
Local runners were appalled at the news that a demonic prankster left a suspicious backpack at the scene of a memorial ceremony in Boston Tuesday. Police charged the man, who told them the backpack contained a rice cooker, with possession of a hoax device.
“It was in very poor taste,” Schroeder said. “It’s terrible that anybody could think that would be funny.”
Schmidt said one reason she is returning is to support the residents of Beantown.
“The Bostonians are great people. They are great hosts and treat you so well,” she said.
But last year, she said, “They were angry. Their attitude was ‘how dare you? You think you’ll stop our marathon?’”
Not a chance — in fact, the number of entries this year is nearly 10,000 more than last year. Three-fourths of them finished in 2013; expect that percentage to be higher Monday.