For Boston

A few weeks ago, moments after crossing the finish line at the Terrapin 50k I realized that my sister who had come out to crew me was not at the finish line like we had planned. Worried that she may have gotten lost traversing her way back from the aid station she had spent the day at I headed back out to look for her. My concern for her whereabouts continued until Frank G.'s brother told me she had stayed at the aid station longer than anticipated. Turns out she had stayed at the aid station after a runner suffering from nausea had dropped out of the race, offering her blanket, my leftover electrolyte tablets and any other support she could.

On Monday when I saw the first images of the explosions in Boston I immediately thought about the runners who were finishing at that time, their friends and loved ones who were at the finish line cheering for them and offering their support. I thought of the friends I knew who were there that day to run, hoping Jordan Whitlock and Jeff Harrington were unharmed. I saw the time clock in the breaking images and thought of how many of the squeakers I'd read about in Runners World were likely finishing at that time. I saw the images of Jeff Bauman and my heart just hurt beyond words, my eyes could not stay dry.

This is how I ache for those in Boston. I ache as a runner, a sister, a mother, a friend, an American, a hopeful-someday-squeaker.

In the hours and days that followed Monday's events I ached with empathy and yet I just didn't find the solace in the hashtag run for Boston that others did. I wanted to do more, I wanted to be the aid station that those hurting and suffering might need, I wanted to somehow be the fuel to replenish those effected, the space blanket to comfort them. But the more I thought about what little old me could do the more discouraged I became.

But then, as silly as it may sound, I thought about the Grinch. Yes, the one who tried to steal Christmas, the one who waited on Mt. Crumpit to see the Who's down in Whoville defeated and crying but instead got to witness their resilience, their joining of hands and their continued merriment. And with the help of the brilliant Dr. Suess, I realized that running is exactly what we need to do, we need to come together, show our resilience and run. Terror feeds on fear, we need to run to show our strength as well as to stay strong.

Last night a group of twenty or so gathered at our usual Wednesday night spot, the trails of Candler's mountain. We joined hands in the figurative sense and we made noise in the literal sense and we ran. Because in the face of this horrendous terrorist attack we need to raise our awareness and reflect but we also need to continue doing what it was that we were doing, to prove that we will not allow fear to restrain us.

And so we'll continue to do what we love to do, we'll run. We'll #runforboston.

-Alexis

Wednesday evening's group. Photo courtesy of Melissa Early.