Apr 17 2013


Published by at 12:24 pm under Health/fitness,Remembering,Sisterhood of Mommies

Forgive me if I ramble here; I’m still processing. I’ve purposely stayed quiet (on the blog, anyway) the last couple days because my primary reaction to Monday’s bombings was anger. So many people were almost immediately able to say and see the good things – the first responders running into the chaos when everyone else was running out; the marathoners who had completed the race and immediately went to donate blood or help in any other way they could; the Bostonians offering food, lodging, cell phones, and comfort to those displaced – and I just wasn’t one of them. I stayed quiet because I felt the last thing the world needed was another angry, terrified person ranting about being angry and terrified. There was enough anger and fear out there already. I didn’t need to add to it.

I’m going to try not to add to it today. But the words are building up inside me right now, so it’s time to let some of them out.

I’m a runner. I’m not fast, and I’m not always consistent. But I’m still a runner. I have no aspirations to run a marathon, and certainly the Boston Marathon has never been on my radar as a race to run. But I’m still a runner. I know what it’s like to push harder than you thought you could, to cover more mileage than you ever thought you could or would want to, and know that elation when it’s done and you’ve done something you *knew* you couldn’t do. I know that some days, 4 miles feels harder than 13.1 or 26.2 or 50. I’m a runner.

Now, I’m also a scared runner. That makes me angry.

I’m a Mom. My kids have cheered me on at races. A time or two, they’ve even cheered me on at the end of “regular” runs. I’m a Mom. It’s an amazing feeling to have the people who mean the WORLD to you yelling, “GO Mommy! Go Julie! Run Hard!” – at more than one race that cheering has gotten me to the finish line like nothing else could have. That many of those very important people to Monday’s runners were hurt, maimed, and killed tears me up. I’m a Mom.

Now – more than ever – I’m a scared Mom. That makes me angry.

I heard something on the radio about the large percentage of people who run Boston as charity runners. People who run to support other people. That means the spectators at the race are there supporting people who support people. That’s a pretty darn cool circle.

Now, that circle is scarred and torn, if not broken. That makes me angry.

Yes, right now, I’m still angry.


Minute by minute, hour by hour, people better than I am are puncturing my anger by pointing out that, even in the lowest of times like these, there are moments of incredible good. There are those who carried complete strangers to medical aid. There are those who used their own clothing for makeshift tourniquets, saving life and limb. There are those who are already claiming they WILL keep running, and will run Boston again, without a doubt.

And that? That gives me hope.

And hope will eventually give me peace.

I hope it does for you, too.

No responses yet

Trackback URI | Comments RSS

Leave a Reply