I awoke yesterday morning a lot more emotional than I had expected. I knew it was Marathon Monday, and I was excited for all the runners and everyone at BC ready to drink and party and cheer on at Mile 21, but as the day went on, I more and more longed to be back in my city. I couldn't get a live stream of the race when the elites were running, so I had to rely on following the updates via Twitter, rapidly texting my mom about the Kenyans and Ethiopians who always win, and the Americans who were fighting for a medal. My Facebook feed blew up as the afternoon carried on, as the partying in the mods began, as people started posting their pictures of their friends, of the runners, of the race, everywhere from Newton to Brookline to downtown Copley. I was even feeling a pang of jealousy that the runners this year got to experience pleasant and ideal running conditions, whereas last year, we faced 85-90 degree temperatures and a scorching sun for a 26.2 mile run.
Those pangs of jealously quickly disappeared though when sometime in the evening I saw the first Twitter notification about bombs going off at the finish line. Rae was over and we were watching "The Voice"...I made a comment about what I had just read, but didn't realize how serious the blasts had been. For the next hour, I witnessed Twitter, Facebook, and the news sites blow up with news of the two bombings and those injured. I eventually found a live stream of the finish line, and was in tears when I saw the deserted and barren finish line-- the Marathon had been stopped, the runners had been rerouted, and the finish line area at Copley Plaza had been evacuated.
I was no longer jealous of runners and of the people at BC, but instead, so completely sad and hurt for them, for everyone in the city, for everyone who had trained for months and months and months, in some cases even years to qualify for Boston, for friends and families who had traveled long distances to specate, and for this city that I love so incredibly much. If you know anyone who's lived in Boston for at least a few years, they'll tell you that Patriots Day, more commonly known as Marathon Monday, is the biggest day of the year- it's a point of pride and celebration for Boston and Massachussetts, because it's the only place in the country that has this holiday. The Boston Marathon is arguably the most famous in the country, if not the world, and is one of the most strenuous courses with all its inclines and declines, but it's a course for which every serious runner strives, and part of that is due to the absolutely amazing crowds that turn out to watch throughout the entire course. I still remember hitting the halfway point last year running by Wellesley College and bursting into tears because the girls screaming for us and cheering for us were just so amazing. When I hit BC at Mile 21, my friends found me and hopped past the tape and ran with me for nearly half a mile, filming, taking photos, and screaming at me to keep going- I was so overwhelmed with happiness that I can't even remember the moment clearly.
This is what the Boston Marathon is for so many people. A culmination of blood, sweat, and tears. Nearly four months of sacrificing a lot of fun times in order to wake up early to run in the freezing cold and ice and snow that make up Boston winters- all for a three or four or five hours run (or two if you're an elite) leading you to the center of the greatest city in the world.
I just can't even begin to fathom how the runners this year are feeling. I keep trying to think back to how I would be feeling if this had happened last year- my mom and Steph's family were waiting for us at the finish line- I crossed that finish line... These runners must feel relief and are thanking God that they're safe, but then these feelings must be mixed with anxiety and fear and anger. Unless you've trained for a marathon and suffered through that 26.2, it's hard to understand the mentality behind the marathon. So many say that a full marathon is more mental than it is physical, and for recreational runners like myself, it's completely true. If you put in the training, your body can do it-- I learned that during training last year--your body can literally do anything. It's the mental part that is the hardest. Forcing yourself to continue when you're in pain and bored and frustrated. I would just be so incredibly angry if this had happened during my first marathon.
Mike Wise writes for the Post and has ran four marathons himself and was able to more articulately capture such feelings: "For so many who ran, Boston on Monday afternoon was less about a race and more about a platform for so many courageous people to prove to themselves that life does go on, that closure is possible. And to violently intrude on that kind of healing, that perseverance — to layer on tragedy and grief and heartbreak on the day so many watching and running were trying to move past it — is so wrong and personally destructive it’s almost unspeakable. No other major sporting event in the world can the novice line up next to the elite and try to spiritually climb their own Mount Everest. They all have a story of how they used their legs and their heart to conquer, overcome and get to a place of serenity or competitive satisfaction that finishing the oldest and greatest of marathons was supposed to bring them. To hear, “The race is over. There is no alternate finish,” announced at about 4:06 p.m., hurt so much deeper than pain of running 26.2 miles ever could"
(full article here)
What happened yesterday was just absolutely disgusting. Unfortunately, I'm still so shaken up over it, am still tearing up every few hours when I think about it, that I'm just not able to articulate my thoughts as well as I usually am. There are however, many articles and statuses and tweets surfacing that capture my sentiments and the sentiments of a, to put it in Obama's words, strong and resilient city. There's a reason that Boston is known for a rougher crowd and movies like The Departed and The Town. I just came across this Facebook status and this guy is completely right:
"There are few places in the world that people are prouder to be from than Boston. When you look at how this city, this small town, has handled tragedy you can understand why.... The Boston Marathon is a pure event. It ranks with the Super Bowl, the Olympics, and the Tour de France as one of the most prestigious and renowned sporting events in the world. But unlike the other events it isn’t exclusive. Anyone can enter. Your neighbor, your co-worker, your best friend, your son, your daughter, your significant other. For one day every April, with dedication and hard work, an amateur athlete can ascend to the elite world stage. For one day every April, from Hopkinton to Boston - friends, family and strangers proudly cheer on amateurs with the same passion as any Red Sox player in the bottom of the 9th. It’s magical. It’s perfect...This town has been changed forever today...A year from now the windows in Marathon Sports will have been replaced, but for 26.2 miles, an unprecedented fear will remain. The toll of the day is still unknown, and it is still unclear where to direct our collective anger. I know this town. And I know that in the days to come with the stories of horrific pain, there will also be stories of tremendous bravery. To whoever is responsible, it’s not a good place to have the entire city of Boston looking for you. We have a wicked long memory and are very protective of our own."
What this guy said about the event is spot on. A marathon is such a collective event. 500,000 spectators line the streets to cheer on 26,000 runners. For one day, it doesn't matter who you are, you are connected with all of your neighbors. As a spectator, it's impossible not to be inspired by the runners, and as a runner, it's impossible not to be thankful of the spectators. A professor at BC wrote a letter to the editor yesterday putting this into perfect words:
"One of the most common ways terrorist attacks backfire is when the communities they aim to frighten respond not with fear or infighting, but rather with resilience and resolve to strengthen their social bonds beyond what they were before the attack. The blood, sweat, and tears put in by tens of thousands of runners, volunteers, and first responders. The hundreds of thousands lining up to cheer themselves hoarse for people they don't even know regardless of their ethnicity, religion, or political party."
(full article here)
And Ezra Klein wrote about the events yesterday as well saying, "The finish line at a marathon is a small marvel of fellowship. Everyone is there to celebrate how much stronger the runners are than they ever thought they could be. Total strangers line up alongside the route to yell encouragement. Bands play. Some hand out cups of water, Gatorade, even beer. Others dress up in costume to make the runners smile. The fact that other people can run this far makes us believe we can run that far. It's a happy thought. It makes us all feel a little bit stronger."
And as Kathrine Switzer, the first female runner of the Boston Marathon, said, "If you are losing faith in human nature, go out and watch a marathon."
Klein goes on... "If you are losing faith in human nature today, watch what happens in the aftermath of the attack on the Boston Marathon...This won't be the last time we gather at the finish line to marvel how much more we can take than anyone ever thought possible."
(full article here)
Marathon Monday will still be the best day of the year in Boston. It will still be inspiring and a celebratory day, but it's true- the day has now been forever tainted by these disgusting and inhumane actions. What was once one of the last remaining pure events will now be an event marked by and remembered, not for the overcoming of obstacles and the accomplishments of the body and spirit, but by tragedy and violence, and even if people try to put this aside, the heightened security measures that will inevitably happen from here on out for this event will absolutely taint what should be a simplistic and pure feat of the human body and spirit.
This is already a week in America marked by tragedy- the Oklahoma City bombings that occurred April 19, 1995 and the Virginia Tech Massacre which happened April 16, 2007...and now the Boston Marathon bombings on April 15, 2013 will be added to that list. I'm from Virginia and was in high school in Virginia on the day of the Tech shooting, so many people near and dear to me as well as myself are remembering that day today. Last year, after a two month search led to a tragic ending, my friend Franco Garcia's funeral was on April 18, so I will be remembering that as well on Thursday. It's a tough week, but with these tragic events I have witnessed amazing humanity and community and strangers coming together in love and friendship and support. The Boston marathon route runs right through BC's campus at mile 21, and I know that along with all Bostonians, the BC community feels a personal connection to everything that has happened and the love and support outpouring already is incredible.
When I woke up yesterday morning, I was sad and unhappy that I wasn't in Boston. By the time evening hit and I heard the news, I was upset and felt helpless that I couldn't be in the city where my heart lies after this terrible incident. If this was a terrorist action and was meant to instill fear in people, especially runners, I think it had the opposite effect and will inspire even more people to run marathons and even more runners to continue running marathons. Finishing Boston last April was the most fulfilling feat I've ever accomplished and I've been telling myself that I want to train to do my second marathon next Spring. After yesterday's events, I am in no way dissuaded, but am determined more than ever before.
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| Celebrating reaching Mile 22 last year, right next to the Res, long after my name had sweated off my jersey |
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| 0.2 miles away from the finish line on April 16, 2012 |
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| The finish line on April 15, 2013 |
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