Today marks the one year anniversary of the Boston Marathon bombing. It’s one of those days that will be remembered and memorialized in the likes of the assassination of President Kennedy and Martin Luther King, Jr., the bombing of Pearl Harbor, and more recently 9/11, among others. It is a day those of us that are old enough to remember clearly will always remember where we were when we found out about the bombing, and how riveted we were to our televisions to learn more about the terror at home. For those that were directly affected by the Boston Marathon bombing — those lives will never be the same.
I never paid much attention to big races, because frankly, up until after my little girl arrived, I wasn’t much into competitive running. Of course I would run local races and enjoyed the race atmosphere. But as my interest in the sport has grown and evolved, so has my level of attention to the elite.
In any event, I was not in fact acutely attuned the the Boston Marathon last year. I do remember my husband sending me a message that there was a bombing and I should turn on the TV right away. As soon as it was on, I was in tears. Not because of a terror attack. But because this time it was a sporting event. One where people are supposed to be happy, and celebratory. Not being knocked down and thrown across the course due to a nearby explosion. Innocent spectators shouldn’t be subjected to the loss of life and limb. Families should not be torn apart and lives lost at a sporting event. Not here. Not in the United States. Not at a race where I would hope to run one day. And most certainly not at the Boston Marathon.
I cried that morning as the story unfolded before my eyes. I hoped and prayed that it was a fluke. I clung desperately to the false hope that perhaps it was a gas line explosion. I wanted to believe that humanity was good and pure, and wouldn’t mess with runners, spectators and families at a marathon.
I was glued to the TV for several hours. My son, then 3 1/2 years old, was in a stage of playing rough with his toys and friends. They focused on shooting, bombing, and explosions in their imaginative play. As much as I wanted to shield my boy from one of humanity’s darkest hours, I wanted him to see his “play” in real life. I showed him snippets of the news, and explained to him what was going on. He didn’t seem scared or sad, but had lots of questions. And then just as quickly, went back to playing like a boy.
I have a friend running in this year’s marathon. I’m very excited for her. She has been fundraising and training for months. April 21st will be her day to shine.
Today as I reflect back on the events of April 15, 2013, I am hopeful for our future. The 2014 Boston Marathon is a highly anticipated event for millions around the world. It will be an emotional roller coaster for everyone involved, as well as for those of us at home. But as runners, as athletes, and as citizens of the World, we will run again.
#BostonStrong
