Like everyone else I know, the tragedy at the Boston Marathon on Monday pained me to the core. I have no words to describe it all. Sad, fear, pain, empathy, anger, distrust, drained… I spent my work day feeling for everyone affected by it. Then when I finally got off of work I got a voicemail telling me that my mom had a small stroke. If I could hit a “pause” button that day, I would have. Enough bad things for one day.
I called back, she’s okay. It was a small one, it’s manageable, she’s going to be okay. We chatted on the phone, she laughed, I laughed, I felt a lot lighter. My little family will be okay.
But what about my extended family? You know, the entire running community. They mean a lot to me too. Their well-being and safety are as important as my immediate family. The amount of love and support the running community shared through the social medias immediately after the bombing was incredible. It gave me a tiny bit of peace and was proof that we will remain strong and fearless.
Speaking of fear, I’ve been keeping something quiet. I’ve been quietly and tentatively training for a spring marathon. I kept it quiet out of fear. Silly, selfish fears that don’t need explaining at the moment. But I’m telling you now, world, I am running a spring marathon.
I’m going to run it to celebrate health, to celebrate freedom, to celebrate the running community, and to be fearless.