Dean has run in marathons. Five of them. It was a long time ago now, probably ten years since he ran the last one. I'm afraid I wasn't the most supportive wife. Marathon training takes hours and hours (and hours and hours), and MadMax was small and toddler-ish for the early ones. I wasn't happy that Dean was not only gone long hours at work, but then had long hours of marathon training on top of it.
But in spite of my grumpiness about his commitment to marathon training, I loved the marathon day itself. It's hard to describe if you've never been to one. The finish line is a place of joy and celebration--not so much for the elite runners who finish early (although even that is really cool, to see these amazing athletes sail across the finish line as if they'd just been for a jog around the block), but for the average people who come along an hour or two later. Average being relative of course, because they're still finishing a marathon, which is hardly average.
You see people who are weeping with relief at finishing their first one, or limping in pain but still determined to finish, or defiant and triumphant with their arms raised, or calm and composed but just slow. There are people who are running to prove that they've beaten cancer or some other disease, people who are running in honor of someone who can't run, people who are running to raise money for all kinds of good causes. For all of them, first-timers and experienced marathoners, it's an incredible achievement. The finish line is a joyous celebration. There's music and applause, fist bumps and high fives, cramps and nausea, hugs and tears. It's inspiring and amazing and so happy.
And then there are those bombs exploding in the middle of it. It just sickens me. My heart goes out to everyone involved, the families, the victims, the responders, the traumatized spectators, the runners who didn't get to finish. Every marathoner everywhere, everyone who loves a marathoner or has cheered for one or has witnessed a race, is grieving for something that will never be the same again.
Shame on you, whoever is responsible. Shame on you.
Well said. VERY well said.
ReplyDeleteWhat Deb said.
ReplyDelete(Also, I missed the last post, Dan's weekend. And, I noticed that you took the "new background" posts down.....)
Yes, I deleted the new background ones because they wouldn't make sense once the change was in the past. There were two others I took down because I tried linking here from a new place, and I thought I would have some new readers, so I didn't want to have a bunch of boring posts right at the top. You guys are used to me writing one interesting post out of every half dozen, but new people wouldn't get past the blah ones at the top. But it didn't work, so I put them back. ha. :-) Which means they got re-published and probably re-sent to people who are subscribed via e-mail, sorry about that.
DeleteYes, what Deb said.
ReplyDeleteI've got just such a roil of emotions going on right now. Very, very unsettled. I'm finding it so, so hard to think of that city, where so much of my living happened, completely shut down with armed men hunting someone.
ReplyDeleteI know, I've been to Boston several times and I love it, it's one of my favorite cities. I've spent way too much time watching television the last few days, including watching Obama just now. I had a hard time sleeping last night. I'm so glad it's finally over, even though I suspect it will be weeks before everything is wrapped up.
Delete