I really don't have the right words to say about the tragic bombings at the Boston Marathon finish line. It is shocking, appalling and just breaks my heart. Boston is a special place, and The Boston Marathon is a special race.
I just haven't been able to stop thinking about all of these runners, their families, spectators who witnessed this scary event. It is the opposite of what a race is supposed to be. I wore my race shirt today, it was the least I could do to offer solidarity to my family of runners.
I have always felt that runners are a special breed, a sort of family that just "gets" one another. My race on Saturday kind of proved that when I ran with a "pace twin" whom I had never met but by the end we had a special understanding with one another. The reason I am never afraid to go to a race alone is because I never, ever feel alone. We are all in it together. This is what it's about. This is what keeps drawing us back to racing.
So...I refuse to be afraid. I refuse to let some A-hole keep me from what I love, and I will continue to encourage others to come run with me. I truly believe that from now on I will race ever more diligently, more determined, with more passion.
And I will remember Boston this way...