Boston you’re my home

I’ve started this post several times…trying to find the right words…but I don’t know what those words should be.

I’m heartbroken…

I’m pissed off…

This was a day meant for celebration…a day for dreams realized…for memories made to last a lifetime. And it was such a day until 2:50 p.m.

I had expected to be writing today about the amazing experience that is volunteering at the Boston Marathon. Instead I’m left thinking about all of those runners I greeted as they got off the buses in Hopkinton, united in the common goal to run the granddaddy of all races – this day was to be their moment – and now they are forever united for a very different reason.

I selfishly think of my own family who stood on Boylston Street and sat in those grandstands on Sunday to cheer me in the B.A.A. 5k as I crossed that famous finish line. I look at my own sweet boys and cannot imagine that an 8 year old was among the victims. I’m sick to my stomach and….I’m royally pissed off that some low-life pathetic coward(s) would choose to do this to innocent people in the name of some cause?! There are no words.

And yet there are so many questions and so many emotions – more than I can sort through right now. For now I will be grateful that friends and family are safe, that I can hug my boys and that I can run.

I will run today for those who can’t,

I will run today to find some peace in this chaos,

I will run today for Boston.

(Thanks to Jess for the image)