Like many others, I am deeply saddened by the tragedy at the Boston Marathon yesterday.
Yesterday, at work, our morning consisted of watching the live feed of the elite runners and tracking some friends on the course.
After lunch, Ann texted me and said there had been an explosion at the course finish line.
Our afternoon was consumed with watching live news updates, trying to check in on our friends who had run to make sure they were safe, and trying to understand what the hell was happening.
A few friends called and texted me to make sure my Mom was safe.
She was supposed to run Boston this year. Had her bib, had a hotel room reserved, everything. She ended up backing out last month. I was supposed to go with her. Be at the finish line. The time on the race clock when the bombs went off – 4:09 – a very probable time for her to be crossing the finish line. And I could have very easily been on that side of Boylston St waiting for her to cross.
The crazy (and great) thing about the running community is that we are ALL family. As a runner, I feel like this attack was specifically targeted at MY family. I may not personally know any of the victims, but the fact that they were there at the race, cheering on their family and friends, makes them my family, my friends.
I saw another picture on facebook this morning that said “You just pissed off a lot of people who run faster than you and NEVER give up.”
How true is that?