Fellow Beavers share in first Boston Marathon journey

May 29, 2026

By Eric Gotschall ’07
(The following is an account of one Beaver’s first Boston Marathon. It comes from 2007 BVU graduate Eric Gotschall, who resides in Overland Park, Kan.)

“I’ll never run a marathon. Those people are crazy.”

That is what I told myself in October 2022 after completing the Kansas City Half Marathon, my first half marathon. Granted, going 13.1 miles wasn’t beyond belief. Nearly one decade prior, I completed several 5Ks, an oddball one-third marathon, and ran Des Moines’ Dam to Dam twice, covering 20 kilometers.

But that was a long time ago. I was in my twenties; which was much closer to when I was a multi-sport athlete in high school. By 2022, I was creeping up on 40, and simply pleased to run at all and find it enjoyable.

I have always been a runner. In kindergarten, I made friends by being fast enough on the playground to get picked for teams of touch football, freeze tag, and kickball. Running helped me become a weapon on the base paths in Little League, and running provided me with stamina in basketball.

“...as valuable as my education seems, it’s the friendships I made that represent the priceless asset I carry with me through the ups and downs (and Heartbreak Hills) of life. I am content, knowing full well my Beavers will be there to celebrate at the finish line.”

-Eric Gotschall, 2007 BVU graduate

By middle school and high school, it became obvious that while I enjoyed playing multiple sports at South Page High School in College Springs, Ia., my athleticism showed most in track and field. By the end of high school, I would be a two-time Iowa State Track Meet qualifier in the 800 and 1600 meters. Many of my peers in those events often ran the 3200 meters as well to complete the “distance” trifecta. Two miles seemed way too far for me. Funny how perspective changes over time.

Following high school, I ran to stay in shape. By the time the COVID-19 pandemic came in 2020, I was several years removed from consistent running. I had worked in the hospitality and food-service industry. Late shifts and long weekends do not lend themselves to a fitness regimen. Being cooped up in my Midtown Kansas City apartment that spring served as motivation to return to exercise to break up the monotony.

Not long after, I started a new job working at Garmin International, maker of an array of wearable GPS devices. The availability of cutting-edge technologies in endurance sports lent itself to some impressive athletes and friendly competition among colleagues within the company. It started small for me, two or three runs per week with no consistent schedule, just five to eight miles per week in total.

After a while, my running grew easier. I was having fun. More importantly, I noticed mental benefits, too. I worried less and used the time to think through concerns. I let the metronomic plodding of my shoes deliver me to a meditative state. I slept better, felt happier, and recognized how much my wellbeing improved through those miles. The running bug bit me.

That first half marathon in 2022 was fun, but grueling. I ran well, finishing in 1:32:26. However, I could not fathom doubling that distance. Still, I kept running. I added another half marathon that November and managed to average more than 100 miles in December and January.

After talking with my older cousin, a seasoned distance runner, I decided I would ignore my “I’ll never” declaration and try to make the Garmin Olathe Marathon in April 2023, my first attempt at 26.2 miles. My marathon debut was largely successful, but certainly the hardest run I had completed. I let adrenaline and overconfidence carry me too fast over the first half of the route, and by the 19th mile I was paying dearly. My feet hurt, my hips felt tight, my hamstrings burned, and my pace for the last 10K suffered significantly. Still, I finished in a respectable 3:26:56. After what felt like a month of residual soreness (it was five days) I found myself wanting to prove that I could do better. It had happened. I had become the marathoner I once said I would never be.

Over the next two years I added four marathons to my resume: in Kansas City, Mo.; Olathe, Kan.; then Duluth, Minn.; and Indianapolis, Ind. A friend planted the thought in my mind of running fast enough to qualify for The Boston Marathon. What seemed like a pipe dream at the beginning of my endurance running journey felt tangible. The Flying Pig Marathon in Cincinnati, Ohio, in May 2025 was incredible. The spectators were electric, the weather was cool and damp, and my training prepared me for the moment. For the first time as a marathoner, I broke the three-hour mark; clocking a 2:59:39. That mark gave me a Boston Qualifier time.

Had I earned my way into the most historic marathon in the world?

When registration opened in September, I submitted my time and triple-checked every bit of the form to make sure no typographical or formatting errors would prevent me from earning what felt like a golden ticket in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. By October, it was official: I was in! The qualifying time for my age group (I was 40) was 3:05:00.

However, with tens of thousands seeking entry, the Boston Athletic Association worked to trim the field until reaching a capped number of participants. I ended up sneaking in by a mere 47 seconds.

Among the first to congratulate me on my Boston Marathon berth were my closest friends from Buena Vista University. Between 2004 and 2007, I forged close bonds with a group almost exclusively from Baxter House, the first floor of Grand Hall on the Storm Lake campus.

After graduation from BVU, the group remained close. We’d call each other, send texts, and try to put together any gatherings we could with our modest, post-graduation incomes. For one friend in particular, Crystal O’Dell ’07, these gatherings became a high priority, and she delighted in planning, organizing, and throwing parties for us all to attend because the time with us brought her joy.

On April 12, 2018, we lost our dear friend, Crystal. While gathering to mourn her loss and celebrate her life, we felt the value of her efforts to stay together as friends and prioritized making time for that going forward. In the ensuing years, we have gotten together at least twice per year. Our group of 10 Beavers has grown to 16 with spouses, and there are 16 children spread among the couples.

When we have gatherings that are family-friendly, it makes for a large crew. Beavers build, right?

Of the “Beaver Crew,” five asked to join me in Boston for the 130th running of The Boston Marathon on April 20. This included Lisa (Hartz) Bell (’07), Mitchell Annan (’08), Scott Bell (’09), Andrew Fleer (’09), and Aaron Wigg (’09). We inducted an honorary Beaver for the trip, as the friend who cheered me to my BQ (Boston Qualifier) performance at The Flying Pig in Cincinnati joined in the festivities.

I rented a five-bedroom space in Dorchester, Mass., to allow us to be together for the duration of the event, and we enjoyed exploring Boston in the days prior to the big race. This included visiting historic buildings and properties on Boston’s “Freedom Trail,” and more.

Race day was awe-inspiring. Unlike many weekend road races that start early in the morning, The Boston Marathon begins at a reasonable 9 AM for the elite field with the remaining runners leaving from Hopkinton, Mass. in waves every 15 minutes, starting at 10 AM.

The weather at the start was perfect, low 40s and sunny with a slight tailwind. I was so thrilled to toe that starting line and to be in that field. There were 29,035 runners in the 2026 Boston Marathon, and I was one of them! While I certainly wanted to run a good race, I mostly wanted to soak up as much of the experience as possible. This was not a competition, it was a celebration.

I smiled my way through the first half of the race, settling into my target pace and gradually moving a little faster. I gave out high-fives to spectators young and old, chuckled at funny signs, supported runners around me, and let mile after mile of screaming spectators wash over me.

It’s nonsensical to most to have “fun” running 26.2 miles as quickly as your legs can carry you, but I felt the energy of the crowd carrying me over the trademark rolling hills of the course; all the way to the challenging elevation changes in Newton, Mass. There are four hills as the Boston Marathon course cuts through Newton, Mass. on its way toward Downtown; the most famous of which is dubbed “Heartbreak Hill.”

Many runners’ hopes of a personal record or a great race die on that hill, and it was near that point I knew I would need a boost from my crew. We made a plan on roughly which mile marker I could find them and which side of the road (right), so I wouldn’t miss them. As I was climbing the third hill, I made eye contact with Scott Bell. Then the rest of the Beavers came into focus. They made signs and I heard their cheers. I put up my hands in a heart shape as I neared them, gave high-fives, and blew kisses. I’m not sure why I did that last part, but it just came out. I was so thrilled to see them; thrilled to be sharing this experience with people who had been a massive part of my life for more than 20 years.

From Newton, I coasted down a long hill and excitedly realized I was down to the final five miles. I started to feel some tightness in one hamstring and a muscle spasm in the opposite quadriceps, but I managed to push through.

I had one last small, but daunting incline to climb on Hereford Street, and then I made the turn left onto Boylston Street. At that moment, a deluge of sound thrilled me. Screaming, clapping, whistling, cow bells, horn bellows, music; it all blended into this thrilling cacophony that provided the soundtrack to take me home to the finish line.

I could see my target. I made it. I was going to complete The Boston Marathon. I looked up at the clock as I neared the finish line and realized that while I hadn’t strictly raced the course, I looked to be on track for a personal record. I threw my arms up in jubilation and smiled wide for someone who had run so far, finishing in 2:56:56. It represented a personal record for me, placing me in the 4,773 position out of more than 29,000 runners.

Following a lengthy walk through the finishing area, I changed into dry clothes, put on my coveted Boston Marathon Celebration jacket, and made the trek to the family-meeting area. I congratulated my fellow runners along the way, and saw expressions of pride, elation, exhaustion, and pain. Soon, Scott, Lisa, Mitch, Andrew, Aaron, and Laurance appeared to greet me. I gave everyone big, long hugs and thanked them for being there. 
 

The accomplishment felt tremendous, but having some of the most important people in my life there to share in it makes the moment indescribably sweet.

Completing The Boston Marathon was an absolute “bucket list” goal of mine; and I wasn’t certain how long it would take or if I’d get the opportunity at all. It marks my tenth marathon overall, and the eighth state in which I have run that distance. That last part is relevant, because the pursuit of this goal inspired me to think even bigger: I aim to run a marathon in each of the 50 states. Later this year, I will add South Dakota (Deadwood) and Tennessee (Memphis) to my list of states. And following Boston, I add another “World Marathon Major” event in Chicago during October.

I shared my ambitious goals with the Beaver Crew, and as I add more states over the years, I have been assured they will to cheer me on.

Our group celebrated a bounty of milestones as friends over the years: new jobs, post-graduate degrees, marriages, children, new homes, new pets, and personal victories. I was so happy to add my accomplishment to the list of moments we’ve shared. Memories we’ll hold dear for decades to come.

I am grateful for the opportunities afforded me in my time at Buena Vista University. There are plentiful memories that complement my Bachelor of Arts Degree in Mass Communications. But as valuable as my education seems, it’s the friendships I made that represent the priceless asset I carry with me through the ups and downs (and Heartbreak Hills) of life. I am content, knowing full well my Beavers will be there to celebrate at the finish line.