This Weekend

I am not ready to write a complete post about my Boston experience this weekend.  As I was sightseeing and running the race, I was already thinking of things to include in my post-run blog.

Even after I crashed in the last 8 miles and lost sight of my race goal, I was still positive... After all, it was the Boston Marathon, and the entire city of Boston was cheering me on!  At about mile 24 I slowed to a walk, and I was about ready to burst into tears.  One particular man in the sideline crowd made eye contact with me and shouted, "Come on, don't stop... you can DO THIS!"  I started running again... ok it FELT like running, but I know it was a slight jog... and I didn't stop until I crossed the finish line.

I crossed the finish and was flooded with emotion.  As I struggled to catch my breath, a medic grabbed my arm, began walking me through the chute, and kindly asked if I was ok.  I burst into tears.  Alarmed, he again asked if I was ok.  As I was I sobbed that I was ok physically, I told him that I was just mental.  He laughed and said, "Well that's all of you runners, if you ask me," and sent me on my way.  I creeped through the line, getting my blanket (I was freezing!), medal, and snack, and made my way to the finish area.

Just after meeting my mom and sister in the family meeting area, everything changed.  Two explosions rocked the area, and the events of the Boston Marathon took an unthinkable course.

I just haven't fully processed the event yet.  I was/ am worn out from the race- physically, mentally, emotionally exhausted, and then the rest was an event of such magnitude right on top of it all.  It was all so surreal and bizarre, and it somehow seems disrespectful to talk about about the weekend's prior events in a positive way or talk about the weekend's tragic events at all.

I feel like I am mourning for the sport in some strange way; part of me just wants to block it all out and pretend like nothing happened; part of me can't stop reading news reports and looking at the pictures; part of me is incredibly angry that I went back to my hotel room with all of the other sheep instead of going toward the noise to see if I could help; part of me is angry at my selfishness for even being upset about failing to meet my time goal; part of me wants to keep my word (from before the race) to never run a marathon again; and part of me wants to run Boston again next year just to support Boston and show those terrorists that they did not win....

I will try to get my thoughts together and post again in the next few days.