Apr. 17th, 2013

foxxcub: (hawkguy)
Last Saturday I ran my fourth half marathon--and PR'd, which is nuts, considering how crap my training has been the last four months. But I beat my previous time by over a minute and half! I'm still slow as balls, don't get me wrong, but I'm super proud of that time. I paced myself great and had gas in the tank to haul ass the last mile, which never happens. I was looking forward to taking my runner's high and watching how everyone did in Boston on Monday.

Of course I'm devastated for what happened, as an American and as a human being. But as a runner, it's hit me especially hard; Boston is so special to people, such an accomplishment. You can't simply sign up and get the shirt and go home. Boston has no lotteries, and only a very select few get in on a charity case. 30,000 of the world's best runners are all in one place. Some of them are the elite of the elite, who train professionally and competed in the Olympics, and the rest of them are regular people with families and jobs. There was a lovely editorial in The New Yorker about the innocence of the marathon, how the openness of the race route is freeing and pure. And that innocence was ruined on Monday. It will probably never be the same again.

This is my sport, something that's become very special and life-changing for me. What hurts the most, I think, is knowing that this happened to people in my community--the runners' community. My heart aches not only for the people of Boston, but for the runners who will never run again.


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