What an amazing weekend to be a runner in L.A. I arrived about three days before the marathon, mostly so I could photograph the U.S. Olympic Marathon Trials. The weekend was shaping up to be fairly warm and I was looking forward to running in shorts after training through the Utah winter.

It was incredibly motivational to spend the day photographing the best marathon athletes the United States has to offer. I began photographing the runners as they made 4 laps along Figueroa between the LA Coliseum and the LA Convention Center. It couldn't have been more ideal to an ambitious photographer. I hustled to the finish line as they made their laps, allowing me to catch them multiple times along the course. The best of the sport I love was right before my eyes the entire morning.

It was my first time to the LA downtown area, a spot we usually bypass on our way to Laguna Beach, and I was impressed at the ease of getting around town both by foot and by taxi/Uber. I had planned to rent a car but found that option more costly than taking a taxi.

The Expo was very well organized with ample space for large crowds to navigate, especially for a race this size. I walked in to see rows and rows of helpful volunteers as I secured my bib and race bag. Once I got my things, I was directed to a one way maze through the official retail section, which carried so many well designed and fashionable items, I had to grab a few, then it was onto the expo with all the usual suspects offering their wares.

Race morning was also a model of efficiency as I opted to board the bus at the finish line in Santa Monica headed to Dodger Stadium. Runners are offered the reverse option as well if you prefer to catch a ride back to the start. I had already volunteered at the packet pickup for the Big 5 5K race the day before, also hosted at Dodger Stadium, so I knew what to expect when I arrived. The stadium was open for seating and the race photographers were all doing their jobs well. The buzz in the air was so exciting as the runners began heading for their corrals.

The course is aptly designed to pass a huge pile of landmarks in the LA area, including the Walt Disney Theater, the Hollywood Walk of Fame, Jimmy Kimmel studios, Chinatown, and probably many, many others I didn't even recognize. Looking back, I should have studied the map more carefully to check off landmarks as I passed them. No doubt the course designer couldn't have possibly packed more sites into a 26.2 mile course.

As I approached the finish line, the air began to cool with the proximity to the ocean, which was a nice feeling, and the palm tree lined final mile along the shoreline was one of the most scenic I have ever experienced. Santa Monica was packed and the finish line festival was amazing, but the biggest prize of the day was that massive medal. The medals rival what Olympians receive after claiming the most coveted prize in their respective sports. It was nice and heavy, but not overly large, and certainly equal to the accomplishments of all runners as they made their way from "The Stadium to the Sea."

I ran the Columbia River Gorge Marathon as sort of a last minute decision. I was well trained and had hoped to bag another fall marathon before hitting the training reset button for the coming year.

When I arrived in Hood River, Or., I knew right away that this was going to be an epic experience. The quaint little town was overflowing with personality, from the numerous brew pubs, (probably a per capita record), the relaxed atmosphere, the proximity to the mighty Columbia River, and the amazing scenery.

We stayed in an old historic hotel right in the center of town, only a block from the packet pick up, which happened to be the town's running store. There really wasn't an expo, but having the pick up at a running story certainly allowed you to grab any last minute items you forgot about. For me it was PowerGel.

As part of the normal entry, runners received a beanie with the race logo screen printed on the side, rather than a shirt, which is an unorthodox approach these days. As a $25 add on, you could purchase an advertisement-free long sleeved 1/4 zip pull over, which I did in order to remain loyal to the shirt collection I have been accumulating.

Race morning began with a short 3 mile bus ride to the full marathon start which begins on what was once the only state highway to run alongside the Columbia River on the Oregon side. This highway, at least for the first 8-9 miles of the race, and also on the return trip, had been converted into a beautiful trail for non motorized traffic.

The fall leaves were falling, there was a cool breeze, and the morning could have easily made itself into a Monet masterpiece. It truly is one of the most spectacular courses around, that is, if you don't care about your time.

For marathoners, the course starts most of the way up a short hill, at which point it gradually descends into the town of Mosier. Once you reach this point, around the five mile mark, the course leaves the non motorized trail and joins the historic highway as it begins to climb up to the highest elevation and the turn around spot at around 11 miles. The climb was fairly gradual and there were spectacular views, each becoming more beautiful then the last as the mighty Columbia River spread out before you.

After the turnaround point, the course descends back into Mosier as you experience even more amazing views by viewing the scenery from the opposite angel. The small town on the river marks the 18th mile as you rejoin the trail. If you're keeping track, this is the same low point in the course you passed at mile 5 and on the return trip, its the natural spot for hitting the wall. If I didn't know any better, I would guess Mosier is an ancient Paiute word for "Great Wall."

This ascent was much easier the first time around, but at this spot, any semblance of speed left my race and I began the last 8 miles slog toward the finish line. We passed the same spot we started from with three miles left and a pretty steep descent into Hood River. It began to rain as we made our way toward the banks of the Columbia, where an much appreciated and well deserved burrito lunch was waiting.

We received our medals, which were made from a local artisan out of ceramic, and hung on a 1/4 inch ribbon. This was the only part of the race which felt a little underwhelming. It was basically made from a mold of the race logo without a ton of artistic expression.

Overall the race was a beautiful connection to one of the most scenic places in the west, if not the country. I can't express this enough. It truly was one of the most beautiful places I've run.

It was the best of days, it was the worst of days. So sums up my experience at this year’s running of the 119th Boston Marathon.

You might ask the same question of someone jumping out of a perfectly good airplane. Why? After all, technology has advanced to the point of allowing humans to actually travel 26.2 miles in a much more efficient way. You know, using cars, or at the very least, bicycles.

But still, over 30,000 ambitious runners paid the entrance fee, trained for months, put their usual weekend plans aside and showed up on a rainy Monday morning to put themselves through a very technical and difficult trek from Hopkinton to Boylston Street in downtown Boston.

I had my eyes on the Boston Marathon from the moment I started running to beat the effects of poor health more than 10 years ago. It took me three years and eight tries to qualify for my first one in 2008, then another 17 marathons and seven years to make it this year.

A lot has changed in those seven years.

In 2008, the marathon was apparently not quite as popular. The qualifying standards were a bit less restrictive, the registration process was a bit more open, and prior to the 2013 bombing, the security was a bit less evident.

In talking with members of the GOAL Foundation, the organization that puts on the Ogden Marathon, running 26.2 miles has become very popular in recent years and peaked in registration numbers around 2012. Which is why the Ogden Marathon was forced to switch to a lottery registration for the 2013 and 2014 races.

That phenomenon was evident in Boston when in 2010, there were so many qualified runners that the race sold out in a matter of days. In fact, many runners who had qualified weren’t able to sign up, forcing the organizers to drastically alter their registration protocol and tighten the qualifying standards for runners.

And who can forget the events of 2013 when two brothers decided to leave bombs made out of pressure cookers on the sidewalks near the finish line, also drastically altering the way organizers and law enforcement handled the race. And not only the Boston Marathon, but all marathons throughout the country, especially the largest ones were forever changed.

This year, there wasn’t a stretch of more than 100 yards where I didn’t see either a police officer, firefighter, or army reservist along the entire distance of the course, on both sides. In fact, as they were calling runners from the athlete’s village to the starting line, I noticed atop the adjacent building there were law enforcement officers scanning the area, similar to what you might see on a trip to the White House. It was a little eerie, yet comforting at the same time.

For me, the day was like a Biblical prophecy, a day both great and terrible. Terrible in the fact that I experienced some unexpected cramping and muscle fatigue much earlier than I do in most races. The driving rain, 40 degree temps, gusty headwinds and large puddles didn’t help either.

But I still would have done it all over if I had the chance. Words simply can’t describe the feeling of awe at seeing more than a million spectators, also dealing with the same weather issues, come out and line the course from start to finish to cheer for what has been described as the most boring parade ever. Yet they still come.

I laughed. I cried. I may have said a swear word (or two), or at least thought of it. Yet in my worst moments, when I had to hunch over on the side of the course to stretch out my legs, there was always someone right by my side to offer an encouraging word, a pat on the back, or a “get your tired, pathetic butt up that hill,” (in a nice way). It was all just what I needed. My emotions are coming to the surface even as I write this.

I have always been told that Boston is a great town. The Bostonians were good to me in 2008. But they really rose to the top this year. Even as I finished, cold and shivering, there were volunteers standing at the ready to drape a blanket over us, open bottles we were too weak to open ourselves, and even peel bananas prior to handing them to us.

This town has it right. What would you expect after 119 years of experience? The unity, loyalty and community support for this race is simply phenomenal.

Despite my difficulties in completing the course, you can guarantee I’ll be back. Let’s just hope it doesn’t take another seven years.