Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Thank you, #runforboston, for returning a small piece of my soul

The sense of futility following an inexplicable horror like the bombing at the Boston Marthon tends to leave For further proof, read my most recent post. 
me numb, searching for answers.

Without answers, I tend to stand still: Hopeless, but most of all useless.

Thank goodness, the impetus to move arrived via, of all things, twitter. #runforboston went viral Tuesday morning.

To a nonrunner, the idea must seem absurd. Will a run bring back the dead or the legs of an amputee? No. The message was for the inner circle, the runners, who lost a little piece of our soul yesterday.

So, I do something. I run. I run in the rain.

What better time to blend my tears with the rest of the world? Then, it washes them away. When the downpour hits, I look down and can see the bloodstains near the finishing line washing away. The rain stops, and the only dampness I feel is my own sweat. It feels good. It feels normal.

The sense of normalcy could last only a few moments. But it's a reminder that for most of us, running and life eventually will return to normal.

The run gives me back that little piece of my soul, and I'm eternally grateful that my loss can be replaced. I pray for those whose losses can't be replaced.

The task now becomes remembering. Again, the best way for runners to remember is to run. #runforboston. Honor the spirit of what gave the participants and spectators so much joy, maybe even a reason for living. We cannot bring them back. But we can honor their spirit, feel again why they were out there. Spike the guilty in their faces and announce, 'you can't take this away.'

And restore the good in what we love.

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