One Runners' View on the Boston Tragedy

Running is the universal sport. It is the sport that no matter who you are or where you are you can do. You can't play hockey in the desert. You can't surf in the mountains.  Anyplace, anytime, you can always run.

Running is in our DNA. Centuries ago it is how we survived. Groups of "runners" would work together and literally run their prey to death. They ran to live. Times change, and the vast majority of us no longer hunt our food on foot but for many of us we still run to live. Running bonds us together. Most will never know what it feels like to FLY like Michael Jordan. We probably will never understand how Pavarotti's voice did what it did. Running however is something we all understand.

Will you ever break the 4 minute mile? Will you ever break the tape at the Boston Marathon? Probably not. But you can understand it. You have felt the rush and still remember in great detail what it felt like to finish that first 5k. Your 5 a.m. wake up to run is no different than Roger Bannister's 5 a.m. wake up was. You lace up your running shoes the same way Joan Benoit Samuelson does. It is not the race clock that defines us or bonds us, it is the running. It is the fact that regardless of the distance we are taking on, the process is the same. We wake up early or go to bed late so we can run. We pack our gear so we can steal a run over the lunch hour. We head out into the fresh air to lose ourselves and at the same time to find ourselves.

Words fast or slow, long or short are just vocabulary. Random words that hold no real definition. If you have ever laced 'em up and headed out you are a runner. You are part of the family.The marathon, for many is a bucket list event. A game changer. A life changer. Cover the 26.2 and you will, at the finish line be a different person than you were at the start line. Most will wear their finisher medals all day long and as you pass one another, no words need be exchanged.

There are no thoughts of who was faster or slower. It is understood that you did what it took to get the job done. Time is of no consequence. Your journey was of the exact same distance as the winner and the both of you and all of those who shared the road that day faced their fear, their pain and won.  

If you are fortunate enough to find your way to Boston on Patriots Day than it means you are at the Super Bowl of distance running. The Boston Marathon began in April of 1897 and is the world's oldest annual marathon. There are really only two ways to get to the starting line in Hopkinton, MA. You either run your way in, which is no small accomplishment, or you're in as a charity runner. The run allocates spots to about two dozen charities who in turn raise millions of dollars.  It is around the 4 hour mark that the majority of these people are nearing the finish line. All told, the event has around 20,000 runners and more impressively, attracts 500,000 spectators each year.

At 3 p.m. Monday, at about the 4 hour mark of the  It is this time that friends are running hand in hand to soak up the moment as the finish line approaches. It is at this time that those watching are catching their first glimpse of their hero coming down the homestretch. It is a magical time and place.

To try and understand the why of what happened that day is a worthless exercise. One can only imagine the intent of those responsible. Wherever that person or person(s) sits today, they surely must be quite disappointed. It must be a bit like it was for the grinch attempting to stop Christmas by stealing the presents. Imagine his dismay hearing the sounds of joy ringing from the village. Young and old, hand in hand, singing at the top of their lungs, celebrating the wonder of Christmas. The Grinch had missed the point all together. Christmas is not about the presents and it cannot be stopped.

The result of these acts stops nothing. It does not tear us apart, it brings us together.

More will run as a result of this senseless act, not less. The 2014 Boston Marathon has now become a goal for so many more. Runners everywhere having never wanted to run the event are now dedicating themselves to getting to Hopkinton next year. They do so not for themselves, but to show those who ran and those who would inflict terror that we will not be deterred.

We are runners. We are family. The London Marathon did not hesitate. It will go on as planned. Memorial runs are popping up everywhere. Within hours of the blasts, the Red Cross had to put out notice saying, "We can handle no more blood," the turnout to help was so high. Immediately after the bombings, runners and non runners alike in the Boston area made their homes available to anyone affected by the event with no where to stay. Many did not run from the blasts, they ran TO the blasts.

The pictures and accounts from that day are beyond words or description. Three are dead and well over 150 have been injured. Thousands more were directly affected and nearly all of us held our collective breath knowing that we knew of someone in the race.

Running knows nothing of skin color or sex. There are no running borders, no running religions. Running does not really have anything to do with time or distance. Somewhere in each of us is a runner. Tomorrow, and for days to come, more and more of us will lace up our shoes and head out to run in honor of all those who ran and those who stood innocently cheering them near the finish line Monday. I doubt that was the intent of this horrific act.  

Sorry, you lose. We are runners. We run.