Dr. Frank runs Boston again: Shelter Islander a regular in the oldest U.S. marathon

There have been 129 Boston Marathons, and Shelter Island’s Dr. Frank Adipietro has run in 17.
Tuesday morning, the day after the 2025 race, he felt some soreness, and told the Reporter that at the hotel where he and his family were staying, “I can tell who ran the Marathon,” seeing people whose gait is a bit stiff.
He powered through, even though he felt some hamstring twinges during the 26.2-mile course from Hopkinton to Boylston Street. “I’ve come to the conclusion I’m not totally young anymore,” he said with a smile. “But you just keep going, no matter what.”
Dr. Adipietro was one of the more than 30,000 runners. The great race was won by Kenya’s John Korir. Sharon Lokedi, also of Kenya, won the women’s race and set a new course record.
Dr. Adipietro was happy, he said, to be on the course again, but this race was bittersweet, because so many friends he used to race with have either passed away, or age has sidelined them. But the sweet part is still strong — participating in a sport he loves, and running for a cause.

For years he’s been part of a team from the Massachusetts State Police, who run for the charity Cops For Kids with Cancer. His friend, State Police Lt. Bill Coulter, got him involved. Lt. Coulter died of cancer in 2019 and is always in Dr. Adipietro’s thoughts as he runs.
He and his family lived in Boston for a while, and the city is close to his heart. “I did a fellowship at Brigham and Women’s Hospital, and first ran the marathon as part of their team,” he said.
Memories of the terrorist bombing near the finish line of the 2013 race are inescapable. Three people were killed and hundreds injured. On Sunday, the day before the race, he stopped by to pick up his numbered bib near the finish line at Boylston Street and noticed the flowers honoring those from 2013. “Farther down the course we saw more flowers, placed for the child who lost his life,” he said.
That April Monday 12 years ago, he was coming out of a short tunnel and making a sharp right half a mile to the finish. The runners he was with were suddenly blocked by a phalanx of Boston police officers, the cops saying the runners couldn’t continue, their race was over, a bomb had gone off ahead. His wife, Mary Ellen, was at the finish line, and he had to get to her.
Knowing the city, he ran down a side street and then cut up a narrow street through the chaos of fleeing people, and finally found a way to cut over a few blocks beyond the VIP and press areas and learned that Ms. Adipietro was safe.
She had been in the front row of the section when the first bomb went off. Directly in front of her, less than 20 feet away, a woman was lying with both legs blown off. She wasn’t the only double amputee or other victims of horrific injuries that Ms. Adipietro witnessed.
Trained as a nurse, she organized some of the children, comforted them and shepherded them away, urging people not to panic, which for some in the first few minutes after the blasts was impossible.
Dr. Adipietro says the memories are unshakable but believes there have been some positive results. “There’s better security,” he said, and Boston, and the world, have rallied to support communities in need.
His love for the city is boundless, he said. “It’s a great town, reminding me of a larger Shelter Island. There’s such a great spirit in the community. The people who come out for the race to cheer us on inspire me every time.”