Early Monday morning, I was excited to watch the live stream coverage of The Boston Marathon on my computer. I had some work to complete, but kept the video window open to watch the blistering pace set by the men and women world class competitors. I watched straight through to the tape breaking finish and then turned off the feed to finish work. Two hours later, a text came through my phone and my reaction was complete and utter disbelief. The word “what??” escaped through my lips as a whispered gasp. I turned on the TV and just collapsed into the couch, trying to comprehend the images, that as of today, are still seared into the brain. Hubs arrived home shortly after and sat across from me, also glued to the television. I brought him up to date – our marathon training group friends, two who were running in the marathon and a few that were there to cheer and support them, had checked in on Facebook and were all safe and okay.
I’ve been fairly quiet on the blog and social media trying to work through how I feel about everything. As a runner, who competes in so many of these events, I really struggled with disbelief, anger, worry, fear, disgust and eventually, hope.
In fact, I’m still finding it a bit difficult to actually piece together words to convey how I feel about it.
I found myself doing what I always do when I need to clear my head….I went for a run.
I’m devastated for the loss of family and friends there to support their family and friends.
I’m angry that I have to rethink logistics with family and friends at the end of races. I don’t want them in harms way, so I will make sure they are not near the finish as in races past. I’m angry that I will not have those familiar faces to smile and wave and give a big triumphant thumbs up to as I pass to the finish.
I will still run.
I will run for those lost.
I will run for those who are now unable to physically walk or run.
I will run with hope.
I will run because I can.