Heather Treseler '10Ph.D. | Summer 2013 | Notre Dame Magazine
When I was a kid, the Boston Marathon was more important than Christmas. In my pagan pantheon, the legendary marathon — with its parade of sneaker-clad superheroes — trumped Halloween and the Fourth of July combined. Indeed, Marathon Monday was more exciting than any other annual event, except perhaps my birthday: It was the day my father appeared on television. It was the day my siblings and I cheered for thousands of runners; it was the day we cheered on Dad.