Boston

I believe the tragic events of my childhood started with the Space Shuttle Challenger explosion of 1986, I was 8 years old...If I remember correctly I was in 3rd grade and in Mr. Cleveland's class.  We didn't watch the shuttle take off, but when I got home that day I knew what had happened.

The next major event I remember is when we declared War on Iraq.  I was in Junior High and I remember a few students had older siblings in the military...The next defining moment in history came with the Columbine Shootings, I was a junior at Iowa, then 9/11 happened...I was living in Schaumburg finishing up a boot camp fitness class and on my way into the City for work, or so I thought....Then there was the shootings in Aurora, CO, Sandy Hook, etc...the list, I suppose, will continue.

I know there have been other events that define history, but these are the ones I remember, the ones that struck me, the ones where I knew where I was, what I was doing, when I heard the news, they all put a lump in my throat and they are the ones I will never forget.

Monday's bombings at the Boston Marathon I heard about via text alert from the Chicago Sun Times on my phone, it said that there was an explosion at the finish line.  I was walking with a colleague around Douglas Park at lunch.  My first thought, was there must have been an accident...Boston is one of the six World Marathon Majors, they must have tried to get fancy and set off fireworks at the finish line.  When I got back to my desk, I went online, saw the footage and my heart sank, my eyes welled with tears.  

I am a runner, I am a marathoner, I'm the geek that tracks my mile times, 5K's and logs miles...I'm one of those people that head out in sneakers (and knows how many miles are on them) and shorts and runs just for the fun of it.  Being part of the running community is like being part of a family...It doesn't matter how fast you are, how many races you have done, you are just as important as the next guy.  I have never met a runner I didn't like...  My tears on Monday were different then the ones I have had before...I had just spoken with friends that were headed to Boston for the first time to cheer on another friend, I had posted on my running groups facebook wall how we would be cheering for the Boston qualifiers from Chicago... The news all of the sudden, was not only tragic, but very personal.

Marathons are exciting...They are also a lot of work and take the dedication and support of not only the runner to train, eat right, stretch, etc...but also of their support system to take care of things around the house, respect the training schedule, etc...  Come Race Day the celebration isn't just the finish line for the runner, but for the support system as well.  The start and finish of a marathon is like no other experience I have ever had, if I could package and sell it, it would go for thousands.  The adrenaline of the runners and the crowd is amazing.  Those first three miles of the Chicago Marathon is something I wish everyone can experience in real life, words will not do it justice.  I can feel it when I see the pictures of race starts and the pack of runners looks like one, unstoppable, colorful ribbon; despite varied pace times, politics, personalities, etc....

So...What does this all mean?  Why am I posting on our family blog about it?  It's a life event.  It's one that still has me angry, sad and sitting with a heavy heart and lots of thoughts that I need to get out...

-I'm angry that a crazy group or individual, in an effort to have his or her cause noticed, hurt my running community, one of the most kind and generous groups I have ever been a part of.

-I'm sad that start and finish lines of races in the future will not just be filled with laughter, high-fives and signs that say Go, Go, Go...but will be tarnished with fear and that runners and spectators alike will now probably go through some sort of TSA regime that may or may not pull the bad apple out of thousands.

- I'm angry that Parker may never know the freedom of running like I have known it for so long.  That those that never ran will associate terror with this beautiful sport, an activity that has the ability to transform lives and administer a healthy dose of self-confidence.

-I'm sad that I will now think twice before putting Parker in my running stroller for a race...She may just be my training buddy.

-I'm sad that spectators out there to support their loved ones now have to worry about more than snapping the perfect photo or what side of the street you and your runner agreed to be on.  

-I'm sad that the one of the main things that I do for myself to find peace, organize my thoughts and find myself, now feels scary and chaotic.

But what I do know and what I have seen over the last few days between emails from my Wheaton running group, my running buddies and beyond is the definition of resilience;  no runner is going to stop, not even me... We maybe stepping more cautiously, but we will keep running and no evil can take that away.

(More posts on little P to come, just needed to get this one off my chest!)