I usually don’t comment on serious current events since I don’t think I am in any way qualified to be any kind of authority on them.
Same thing goes for what happened yesterday – however, I am going to talk about this one.
Though I’ve never run the Boston Marathon, or even a marathon, I do feel as though I’m part of the running community. Throughout the past year, I’ve started participating in organized races and have found a sense of camaraderie in them.
Runners, volunteers, and spectators all play a huge role in this camaraderie.
Cheering spectators help celebrate the human condition and the physical and emotional well-being of runners at races.
This is the second year in a row I’ve watched the elites race the Boston Marathon live on one of my computer screens at work. I’m always in awe watching the dedication of the runners, running their hearts out in something that seems like an impossible task: a marathon.
Of course I’m extremely saddened by every tragedy and attack of any kind that I hear or see in the news – but this one hit especially close to home.
The lives lost and and the nature of the injures are absolutely terrible. Amputations for people in the running community horrifies me.
Running is about love and peace and hope and I know that from experience. That’s why this upsets me so much. Because running is something that I find love and peace and hope in. Marathons and other races are a way to collectively communicate this joy together, and it disgusts me that this act of terror happened during it.
For those that trained for months, for those that couldn’t finish the race, and for those who can’t ever race again, I’m thinking about you – and I will continue to for a long time to come.
I took a course in college called the sociology of violence. The theme of the class was that we, as humans, need to face violence head on. It is so important to look at the horrible images and to talk about them – and to not be afraid by the ugliness of violence. It is only by analyzing such violence that we may come to understand it, and eventually, prevent it.
2 thoughts on “Boston”
Well put. When I ran my first 10K, my friends and family were there to cheer for me. You never forget that community. Once a runner, always a runner–if only in spirit.
Thanks – agreed.