On Boston and Marathons

My parents called early yesterday morning to alert us to the news about the Boston Marathon explosions.  In disbelief and dismay, we connected to the internet before breakfast to find out details, which were few, but tragic.  Loss of life, injury, chaos, fear.  I offered the discomfort of my own morning run for those affected by the blasts. 

Now reports are out that an 8 year old boy, a 29 year old girl, and a girl from China who was a student at Boston University were the three people killed.  The details make their deaths more real, the loss of life more tragic.  I have seen numbers ranging from 140 to 180 people injured, dozens of whom lost limbs. Several of those injured are still in critical condition with head wounds.  But still no reports about why or who.

Checked Facebook to look for more rumors.  I had a couple messages from friends who knew via Facebook that I had qualified for the Boston Marathon in the Guam International Marathon a little over a week ago.  I let them know that I qualified for the 2014 marathon – or maybe it’s the 2015… I have to check.  The Boston Marathon is so popular, you have to sign up more than a year in advance.  And so competitive that you have to qualify to run. They don’t take just anyone’s registration money.  Which is part of the tragedy of this event – some people work for years to get to the Boston Marathon.  I read quotes from runners were steered off the course after the blast and not allowed to finish. There were hundreds in that position, who trained and sacrificed and anticipated and then were prevented from crossing the finish line. I feel almost as sorry for them as for those who were injured. In addition to the physical injuries caused by the bombs, many people suffered from the loss of their dreams. 

The outpouring of prayers and consolation have been encouraging. Politics and positions have been set aside for a moment. Everyone here is wearing race shirts today. I've already seen posts about memorial races. 

I can’t help but hope that these were random acts by a disturbed individual acting alone. Random acts of violence seem like one time only events, compared to premeditated, coordinated attacks like those threatened by North Korea’s leader.  I heard a news announcer list the number of attacks in the third week of April, around Patriot’s Day: the siege on Waco, Texas, the Oklahoma City bombings, the shootings at Columbine and Virginia Tech. Any connection? Knowing a cause doesn’t mitigate the sorrow and pain caused by the attack, but it makes it easier to understand.

So will I register for the next Boston Marathon? If I don’t, it won’t be because of fear.  This was probably an isolated event.  Remember the bombs at the Atlanta Olympics? There might be a more heightened sense of camaraderie and encouragement next year as a testimony to those who suffered this year.  Those affected by the blasts may be invited to race next year.  Perhaps some will have to race in the wheelchair category. 

After reading several news articles that all said the same thing, I googled the results. The winners from Africa were insanely fast. Will a man break the 2 hour mark soon? Incredible. And the women aren’t that far behind. I would have been an hour behind the leaders with my time of 3:23, which was fast enough to earn second in the Guam event. (The girl who won was from South Korea). I was pleased with the purse I won, but the Boston race offers prizes ten times as big.  Enough to live comfortably for a year, considering the American cost of living. I imagine in Ethiopia or Kenya, someone could live for a couple years off of that prize. 

These athletes train for these races as a full time job.  I trained early in the mornings as a hobby. I didn’t stress about the quality of my workouts, and I spent much less time and effort training for this race than I did for my last marathon, back in Dallas in 1995.  Back then I was coming off of a college track season. I was in great shape and I was young, still single, a grad student with time to train. I ran hundreds of miles, some as intervals on the track, some round and round White Rock Lake.

Now I am nearly twice as old, have six kids and a part time job. I rarely lift weights or run intervals on the track. But I have a beautiful place to run. And my time was only 10 minutes slower than what I ran at age 22.   I ran a smarter race, remembering the advice of a more experienced friend: “It’s a 20 mile warm-up for a six mile race.”  During the race, I thought about a running friend from Mississippi who died of cancer this year. I thought about my late grandfather who earned a track scholarship to college. When I ran by the Cathedral I was already halfway through the Divine Mercy Chaplet, the perfect prayer for pacing.

Running a marathon is a bit like having a baby – you spend days thinking about each step of the race, analyzing what you did right and wrong, and planning for the next time, even if there is no next time. For those in Boston, their memories will be forever returning to the finish line where blood and debris marked the loss of life and dreams. Sadly, for many people affected by the Boston event, there will be no next time.  But for others, standing at the starting line again will be a way to carry on, to confront fear, to challenge the body and the will, and to memorialize this tragedy.  The Boston Marathon has been run since 1897, and will continue to be a symbol of the human spirit's capacity to striving for excellence. 

Runners are a tough bunch. They can run alone. They like to hang together. The route we ran for the marathon was an out and back. The best part of the race was the overlap - cheering on other runners and being cheered by them. When you meet another runner, you know something about that person.  You immediately have a connection. Whether you're the fastest in the pack or bringing up the rear of a race, you feel like you belong to something when you're out there on the road together.