I have been a runner for about 10 years now and the meaning of running and community has never been more clear. Today is unique. I don’t want to say memorable or special because that somehow comes off differently than I would like. I have never run Boston and like many other runners, dream of doing so one day. This post was written by a friend of mine from November Project and it speaks to the thoughts and feelings that occurred on this day two years ago, as well as the thoughts we all have today.
What I have learned to appreciate, is that we are all runners, no matter the speed, and we are in this together. Here’s to Boston, here’s to running, and here’s to achieving the impossible.
I knew shipping up to Boston to watch my very first Marathon Monday would be memorable. I knew I would feel inspired by the thousands of runners competing in a race that, to many (including myself), represents the unattainable. I knew I’d likely shed a few tears as I cheered on my friends (and total strangers) along the way, trying to give them an extra push of encouragement toward the finish line. And I knew, at the end of the day, there would be a story worth telling. But never in a million years did I know it would be a story of grief, chaos, and heartbreak.
After reading many first-hand accounts of yesterday’s tragic events at the Boston Marathon, I confess mine is not a terribly unique story to share here — for which I feel incredibly grateful and lucky. All of my heart, my thoughts, and my…
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