On Sunday, I ran a ten mile race in Austin. It is the longest race I've ever run. It is the first race I've run in quite a while.
It was significant to me, physically, emotionally, and mentally. I have trouble making time for myself, as a busy working mom, though I know that I'm a better lawyer, wife, mother, and friend when I am rested, healthy, and well-balanced. I have trouble thinking of myself as a runner, though I've been one for many years, when I am not actually lacing up and getting out there.
As I crossed the finish line, I felt powerful (and exhausted and sore). But I had reconfirmed to myself that I am a runner, and I was proud to be "back" in that community.
I made a couple of friends during the race. These ladies are just about the cutest thing ever. They told me which Garmin to get and that I'm their children's age. They said running had changed their lives, and I silently agreed.
Durel and Jack met me at the end of the race. Jack told me that he wanted to go do a race, too! I told him that he could come with me next time. (Because I am not ready to push a jogging stroller ten miles. No sirree.)
We all know what happened in Boston on Monday. As I hobbled around my office, sore from the previous day's triumph, I heard the news. Part of me doesn't want to give it legs by talking about it. And the rest of me knows that we're all thinking about it, so I might as well share my thoughts as part of our collective healing process.
It's particularly vicious to go after a crowd of people who have united to celebrate such a unique triumph of the human spirit and the human body. The fact that the Boston Marathon is such an important part of the culture of Boston, of Massachusetts, and is part of their Patriots Day celebration make this act of cowardice and evil even colder.
I'm proud of the good. I'm proud of Boston. I am amazed by the runners who crossed the finish line and then kept running to Mass. General to donate blood. I am more determined than ever to complete, if not a full marathon, then a half.
I was welcomed back into the running community, as I knew I would be, with open arms. And I don't give up on my friends.
For another beautifully worded perspective, read this: http://anothermotherrunner.com/2013/04/15/undonebostonmarathon/
Hope you stay strong today.