Memorial Miles

I'm following Alyssa's lead in this post. My heart absolutely aches for Boston, but dwelling on the terror of Monday's events, especially before more information has come to light, isn't doing anyone any good. I hope that as details are unearthed, we in the running world will have a sense of closure. Until then, I need to lift running to the light. After all, runners have within them an indomitable spirit; I intend to honor that.

We spent Sunday around town. We went to the beach to see the sand sculptures. There were a few that were really striking. I love the ones that really use symbolism to create a story.

I think this one is called "Can I Still be Your Superman?" I love the strong female figures and the question mark on the cape.

"Childbirth." Something about this is so compelling.

Front and back of "Aah, Romance". It's like a concrete image of imagination and dreams.

We began FCAT this week, and it's taken a lot out of me. I've been so physically exhausted, and the emotions from Monday night really didn't help that. I requested permission to wear a race shirt to work today, but that didn't work out (I wore my running shoes instead), so I put one on as soon as I got home.

Not sure if I should smile or not...so let's just look awkward instead.

(Side note: it was odd to hear people talking about the marathon at work as if it were an abstract, sad event far away, when I feel so personally affected. I realize now this has affected runners a little more deeply than non-runners, because we feel like our own - our tribe - has been attacked.)

As I went into the bedroom to let Matt know I was going for my 2.6 mile run, I saw he was in workout clothes as well. Turns out he decided to come with me. I don't think the news hit him nearly as hard as it hit me, but I really appreciated his support.

My brain-fog is showing.

The run was just what I needed. I'd felt a surreal sense of being underwater all day; like with any grief, it hit me in waves. The run was harder than it should have been for the low mileage, but my physical exhaustion and mental and emotional baggage today contributed.

Always remember...this world is a beautiful place, and the good far outweighs the bad.

But sometimes even awful runs are powerful and wonderful things. I am grateful for my ability to run, to live free of fear, to go about my daily life. I ran 2.6 for Boston today, and some of the weight that settled around my heart last night has lifted. This ordeal has strengthened my resolve to run my first marathon in November.

Were you able to wear a race shirt today?

Did you run for Boston today, or do you plan to sometime this week?

What did you have for dinner tonight?
-I had cold chicken. Am I the only one who loves cold chicken or cold steak better than reheated leftovers?

ABK