I didn’t get to go for a run Tuesday in memory of the Boston Marathon tragedy. My husband graciously let me sleep in, knowing I had stayed up too late (as had he) working on upcoming deadlines…and reading post after post about the event.
We donned some of our race shirts to show our support and to honor those whose day was turned from joyous to tragic. If you’re not familiar with the Boston Marathon, it’s a pretty huge deal. Runners train their asses off to qualify, or raise thousands of dollars to run as a charity runner. Spectators line the race course to cheer on anyone and everyone — just to be in the presence of others’ accomplishments and root for them along the way. Friends and family members jump in to accompany their loved ones through tough parts of the course. Just reading about it all made me want to sign up for a marathon on the spot.
I don’t have much to say about the tragedy. So much has already been said, and I don’t process my thoughts that quickly. I don’t have anything profound or poignant to divulge but this one:
Everyone was shocked at Monday’s tragic events, but the runners…we all ached together in a separate way. We know how hard those athletes had trained, how proud they were to be on that course, and how devastating it was not to be able to finish. We knew how ecstatic the spectators were to see their husbands, wives, sons, daughters, friends, and even strangers running their way to what could possibly be their greatest accomplishment.
I have never been as proud to be a part of the running community as I am now. I’m a considerably new member, but seeing everyone come together personally and virtually has warmed my heart and given me so much hope this week.
I donned my Tough Mudder shirt for a run this morning and let my mind wander. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go for a run again without thinking of those affected by the Boston Marathon bombing. And to tell you the truth, I hope it stays that way. They deserve to be remembered.
I read some fantastic posts this week in light of the event. I’d love to share them with you. I know there are more that I didn’t save, so I’ll add them as I come across them. Please feel free to share others in the comments.
The People Who Watch Marathons — Running spectators are amazing people. “If anyone thought this attack would discourage the runners or the watchers, they’ve clearly never been to a marathon.”
Forward — Tracy from Sellabit Mum experienced a day of great kindness before finding out about the bombings. Her post reveals that there is still so much good, even without tragedy. “‘This is one of those very good days, isn’t it?’ I said to her…completely oblivious to the news unfolding a half a country away.”
The World as I Knew It — As uplifting and inspiring as the “love always wins” posts are, Kristin from What She Said poignantly describes the reality of raising children in a world where national tragedies are occurring more and more often.
My Running Thoughts Just for You — This post from Ann’s Rants was written last week before the tragedy, but it’s a great indicator of why so many people get hooked on running, even if it’s just for fun. “You can’t outrun veiny legs. That’s hereditary. But you can outrun a bad mood—every single time.”
Whoever Thought Cheering for a Marathon Would Feel Like an Act of Defiance — From Late Enough, Alex talks about how important it is for her and her family to cheer on the participants of the Richmond Marathon each year. “There is a sense of camaraderie when the spectators cheers and the runners footfalls meet, and I cannot believe that moment was targeted.”