I staggered from bed in the heavy darkness this morning and
headed out for my usual run ahead of the sun.
It’s what I do, and what I’ve done for the last 4+ years. Just part of the routine. Unfortunately it didn’t feel very routine
this morning.
So much to process.
So much sadness. So much
anger. So senseless, and brutal, and
cold. Such a stark contrast to the
warmth and support the permeates the running community that I’ve come to know
and embrace through this blog, and training, and races. Although circumstance makes it feel that way,
yesterday wasn’t an attack on running, it was an attack on people, and
celebration, and freedom. If the timing
wasn’t an accident, it was an attack on innocents and innocence, intended to
optimize damage and maximize terror.
When my kids ask ‘why?’ I wish I had an answer. Instead, I find myself asking the same
question.
The true impact of this on America, and on society, and on
events like marathons remains to be seen.
Big-city marathons will never be the same. They will go on, and people will likely be
even more motivated to participate, especially in the Boston Marathon, but the ‘feel’
of the races will be forever changed. I
think of my family waiting for me in the stands near the finish of the Marine
Corps Marathon a couple years ago, and don’t imagine I’ll ever be comfortable
with that scenario in the future.
Sadness and anger well up again.
There was so much good, decency, and heroism to see in the
aftermath of yesterday, and I choose to focus on that. People offering help, food, and their homes
to strangers in the midst of chaos.
There is so much good around us, but it’s hard to miss the darkened bulb
in a sea of light. Unfortunately
extremism in the pursuit of attention is far too effective.
I pray for the injured, and the families of those injured or
taken from this world. I hope for swift
justice, and the discovery that this is an isolated incident. I hope for the return to normalcy, but not
complacency. Until then, I run.
