The Boston Marathon

I'm normally not the sort of person who jumps on the "I <3 X" or "Today we are all ____" bandwagon after a tragedy. But today I'm wearing one of my race shirts as suggested by many of the running groups/blogs that I follow. I guess I feel more connected, since yesterday's bombings were at not only a race, but THE race. A race every runner dreams of running. Runners are happy people. This is why we run, because it makes us happy, it changes us inside and out. I guess that makes the bombing even more inexplicable; Boston is such an apolitical event. It celebrates the strength of the human spirit in its purest form. Thousands of people run this race for charities. Many participate in wheelchairs, either their own power or with family or friends pushing them. The rest have run countless miles, made huge sacrifices and pushed their bodies and minds so that they could qualify for this race of races.

One of the amazing things about Boston is the overwhelming amount of love and support from people along the entire 26.2 mile route, who turn out to cheer on their families, friends and complete strangers. The women of Wellesley college are famous for their screaming and kisses and signs at the midpoint of the race. The wounded and killed yesterday were there for the sole purpose of showering runners with love. For me that makes it all the more heartbreaking.

I can't help but wonder if any race I run ever again will be the same. There's plenty of security at large races, and even at small, local races, a few volunteer police officers are there to provide help and protect the runners. Will we be forced to have our bags searched when we get to bag check? Will runners have to go through metal detectors now before we go to our start corrals? Will spectators, the heart and soul and backbone of even the smallest races, stop coming out of fear? Will any of us ever be able to go on a run ever again and not think about what happened yesterday? I don't know if we can, and that makes me sad and angry. I feel like the purity of running has been stripped from all of us. I hope we can turn it into something positive. And for that, I'm wearing a race shirt today.