I understand I've been a huge blog failure over the past week. But I have good reason.
Over the weekend I'd planned to FINALLY blog about my 10k on Monday. Sunday night I went to bed with a detailed draft describing all of my battles with hills, evil cramps and ginormous blisters. But as I sat in the parking lot after work on Monday afternoon, waiting for my husband to join me in the car, I read about the tragic events unfolding at the Boston Marathon. And as you can imagine that post, once again, took a back seat.
I spent Monday evening with a horrible burning lump in my throat. You know, the kind that feels like a giant piece of chocolate cake that just won't go down? Only instead of struggling to swallow sugary sponge, I was struggling to swallow the awful reality of what happened. Tears flooded my eyes as I watched the replays of blood stained sidewalks on the news. As I tried to imagine how heartbreaking it must be dedicate your life to training for a marathon only to never cross the finish line. I couldn't register how unimaginably awful it must be to lose a limb, or worse, a loved one. And at a marathon. An event people devote their lives to, spend years dreaming about completing and bring happy cheering loved ones to so that they can share in the euphoric high. An accomplishment that should only be filled with love, pride and joy. An event that should never ever have been associated with terrorism, fear and death.
"When did going to see Batman, going to elementary school and running a marathon become a death sentence?"
At times like these it's easy to feel overwhelmed by the evil around us. In a fog of depression, sadness and anger, it's easy to want to turn your back on the world. Render it hopeless and corrupt. Become bitter and terrified. Or, you could open your eyes to all of the good. To a world filled with loving people full of generosity, hope and consideration. In the news clips, the first thing I noticed was the splattered blood, the crying broken people, the billowing smoke. And I cried. My heart broke. But then, as the night went on, I began to notice the police officers, the doctors, the every day civilians running toward the aftermath rather than away. To help. Because they care. And through the haze of unthinkable evil, I began to notice the wonderful, I began to see the good. Slowly my heart began to mend. All of those inspirational people running to help in a time of frightening chaos and sadness, they represented optimism. They represented humanity. They represented love and charisma. They represented the significant amount of good still left in a world that, at times, feels dark and morbid.
While I'm still finding it hard to process Monday's horrific events, I am doing my best to help contribute to the good. On Saturday morning I'll be running a local Mud Run 5k with friends (this has been planned for weeks) and on Saturday evening I'll be donating and running in Vermont's Get Moving For Boston fundraiser 5k for those effected by the Boston Marathon Bombings. If you're in the Burlington area, please join us around 4pm outside the Echo Aquarium on the Waterfront. And if you're in another state, or even another country, please feel free to participate, and more importantly donate to the helpless families effected by this cruel act. There are links on the Get Moving For Boston website where you can donate or register to become a Virtual Runner.
Let's share the good.
This video clip of the crowd singing the national anthem at last nights Boston Bruins game touched my heart. I hope it will touch yours too. We are Boston Strong