My brothers and I are runners. We are not highly competitive, but we love it. We run to run, not just to train or practice. We have all completed a half marathon, and my second one is coming up in three weeks. We know the exhilaration of a race, the push to the finish. The crowd watching, cheering.
I usually don't have much to say about news-breaking tragedies. Enough words are out there, too many questions and no answers. But this one, while on the other side of the coast...it's like I can feel the echoes, or something. I would never dream to run at the elite level of those who qualify for the Boston Marathon. But they are runners. I am a runner.
Of all things. Not that bombs, explosions, or terrorism is ever justified, ever has an answer. But why the Boston Marathon? Why a race? Why top notch athletes? Because the city loves it and the citizens cheer? Is it to break down morale?
I am perusing the page of the running club I'm training with tomorrow. They had five runners there, all safe. In three weeks I run a far less competitive race, half the distance. No doubt we will be thinking of you.
Haunting faint echoes.
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