I ran this one for Boston

      I woke up this morning full of excitement. Friends of mine were running the Boston Marathon today! Not just anyone can run the Boston Marathon. You have to be good and fast! The best of the best! So I was psyched and tracked and followed them throughout the day. I cheered when i saw their great times at the 10K mark, the 25K mark and then they finished in awesome time and I posted my congrats on my Facebook wall. I had been working off my phone all day as I was kidsitting so my info was delayed. I found out there had been a blast at the finish line at the 4:09 mark. Then there was another blast. I went instantly from happiness and pride to sadness and worry about my friends and all the runners, spectators, volunteers and everyone to whom this was a big and awesome day....or was supposed to be.
   I fled to Facebook to get news on my friends and was so thankful when I heard all the Bloomington folks up there were okay. But still.....so many other's loved ones had not been so lucky. There were people out there now who's family members were hurt, maimed or among the dead. Some...or a group....of cowards had done this terrible thing. I went through all the stages of grief in less than an hour. First I was shocked and kind of confused; then i was very angry; then i was bargaining; then i was very sad; then i was...haven't made it to acceptance yet. Still too many things to process.
    So I decided to run. It is my sanctuary when I am overwhelmed and need to get my mind and heart back on track. I ran this one for Boston.
     I took no GPS watch, no heart rate monitor, water bottle or anything else. Just my running shoes, tank top and a cap. I did not care what my heart rate was...my heart was beating just fine. I did not care how far I went.....mileage was not the point. I did not care how fast I was going.....I was going as fast as I wanted. Because this one wasn't for me. This one was not for my mileage points in my runner's world game nor my training. I ran this one for Boston.
   I did not take my I-pod. I didn't need music. I needed to listen to my feet hit the pavement, my breathe in and out, the birds in the trees; the evening traffic; my mind and heart.
   I ran for the runners who had worked, trained and wished so hard for this moment. I ran for their triumph, the pain in their legs, the burn in their lungs and the amazing feeling of going so far. I ran for their families and friends who were there to cheer them on...so full of hope and pride. I ran for the ones who have now lost limbs, lost lives, lost loved ones. I ran for the 8 year old boy who died and his family who grieve. I ran for the first responders who ran TO the blast to help and for the runners who diverted their course to the hospital to donate blood for the injured. I ran this one for Boston.
     Within my mind in the back of all of these thoughts I heard music. It was Amazing Grace. "How sweet the sound". I realized that even though we are angry, anguished and fearful we have amazing strength. Those people who did that terrible thing? They can't take away our love of running. They can't take away our compassion and care for other runners. They can't take away our shared experience of the starting/finish line; our intimate knowledge of the joy/pain/euphoria/agony of the endurance race. And they can't take our love. They can try but it won't work. Because were are stronger than they are.
      Let us remember we love each other.

I ran this one for Boston.