Run On

 

In the wake of yesterday’s tragedy in Boston, I find myself sad, angry, frustrated and any and all of the other emotions that are normal in a time of despair.

It was almost a year ago that Mike and I ran our first marathon.  We had trained hard for 4 1/2 months, running after work and on weekends; even getting up at 4am on Wednesday mornings to do our long weekday runs before we tackled the rest of the day.  We saved money to travel with our friends to Nashville and couldn’t wait to get to the race expo to pick up our race bibs and swag bags and look at all the race memorabilia.

 

 

I remember listening to Lady Gaga’s song, The Edge of Glory, during training and visualizing crossing the finish line and trying to imagine the pure emotion and euphoria I would feel knowing that we had done it…we had run a marathon.

 

 

Thinking back on it – it was harder than anything I had ever done (before having a newborn) and although I didn’t run as well as I had hoped, it was fun and relaxed and crossing the finish line was just as magical.  It was a pure sense of accomplishment, and we had earned every bit of it, and nobody could take that feeling away.

 

 

 

As I checked my phone yesterday on my way home from work I saw the NBC alert saying that there had been bombings at the Boston Marathon.  My heart sank. Yesterday’s Boston Marathon was supposed to be a day of jubilation and celebration for those running their 15th marathon or 1st, for those cheering on family and friends or simply just cheering.  It was none of that.

I thought of all of the runners who didn’t and wouldn’t get to cross the finish line and receive their medal.  The one piece of hardware for which you train so hard. 

I thought of all of the runners who did cross the finish line who wouldn’t get to celebrate such an amazing accomplishment like they should. 

I thought of the cheering section full of spectators/victims who felt the direct impact of the bombs and how our friends Lynn and Tuller had been waiting for us at the finish line of our own marathon.  I can’t imagine if something had happened to them while they were waiting to cheer us on.

I thought of my friend Kaia who had run the Boston Marathon last year. 

I thought of my dad who ran multiple New York City Marathons when I was younger.

I thought of all of the people around the country who are currently training to run in a marathon, and however scary this event was, hopefully they will continue to train and run in honor of Boston.

I thought of all of the runners who didn’t have their cell phones, IDs, hotel room keys, or money because they had checked their bags and planned to pick up their personal belongings after the race, like we had done – they couldn’t get in touch with anybody for quite a while after the bombings.  I can’t imagine the horrible thoughts of their friends and family.

I thought of all of the unsung heroes who didn’t blink an eye and did whatever they could to help those in need.

 

And then, as I wore my race shirt today in honor of those affected by yesterdays tragedy, I thought, we must run on.  And I did.  Not 26.2, but merely 2 miles pushing a jogging stroller…slowly…but it felt so good.

Prayers and peace to all.

God Bless.