The Boston Marathon is the holy grail for runners. To qualify requires great commitment. When it comes to running, there is perhaps nothing more satisfying when you can say, “I finished Boston.’ I speak from experience. I ran the Boston
The Boston Marathon is the holy grail for runners. To qualify requires great commitment. When it comes to running, there is perhaps nothing more satisfying when you can say, “I finished Boston.’
I speak from experience. I ran the Boston Marathon in 2006. Wonderful time with family, friends and fellow runners. You all share the day, from Hopkinton to Framingham to Natick, Newton and finally, back to Boston. You remember each step, each high five. You can recall your time, to the second, over the 26.2 miles. You don’t forget the cheers along the way.
The finish line of the Boston Marathon has long been the stuff of legend and lore. It’s where the celebration begins. It’s where the sweat pays off. The result of determination and goals. It’s where the smiles are big and proud, where the tears of joy flow. It’s where finally, after many miles of training, you can hold you hands high in victory on Boylston Street.
Not this year.
Monday, two explosions near the finish line killed two, injured others and sent many fleeing, terrified, for cover.
Suddenly, who won didn’t matter.
Who took the lead and how they raced to victory didn’t matter.
Finishing times and places didn’t matter.
What seemed so important when the race started, lost meaning.
A day traditionally filled with triumphs, was instead filled with terror.
What can we do?
We pray for the families and friends of those who died in the explosion. We pray for those hurt and hope for their recovery. We pray it never happens again.
But also, we know this.
The perseverance that delivered runners to the starting line, and the strength that carried them to the finish, will see us through this tragedy.
• Bill Buley, editor-in-chief, can be reached at 245-0457 or bbuley@thegardenisland.com.
