By now a lot has been said about Monday’s events in Boston – way more than I can even begin to comprehend. But whatever your level of affectedness – whether you were there, wished you had been, or knew someone that was – I think we (collectively, “the runners”) can all agree this hit way too close to home.
I don’t have much to contribute (having not been there myself) and most of my thoughts are byproducts of the sadistic “what if” game or rhetoric we’ll never have answers to, so I’ll keep it short.
The outpouring of support, love, and fiery resilience from the running community has been astounding. I’m so proud to be part of this peculiar connected-in-miles-but-otherwise-completely-unrelated group people. High fives to all of you being awesome and finding the good in this face of evil.
It makes me ill thinking what the runners whose spectators were injured are going through. Running has a reputation of being a selfish sport, and it kills me that loved ones there to selflessly cheer on the culmination of someone else’s journey were the ones most affected. That unfair sense of responsibility for putting them in harms way? Terrifying.
mom trying to find a nice way to thank me for failing to qualify last year
- Related : Jezebel (shockingly) has a great piece on “The People Who Watch Marathons” if you haven’t seen it yet
And finally, I want to run down that finish on Boylston Street more than ever now. Yes, as Emily pointed out, I DO realize that means I’ll have to run another marathon (and then another once I actually get there). I don’t know when or where it will happen, but BQ will be mine. Someday.
Until then I’ll take bittersweet comfort in those 126 seconds that kept me and my family from being there this year, and send all my wishes to those hurting that were.
Oh and also, FUCK YOU to whoever did this. You’ll get what you deserve.