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Monday, April 21, 2014

Boston (personal)

I wish that I was in Boston today.

A year and a week ago (on April 15, 2013), I ran the Boston Marathon for the second time. Four minutes after I finished, and moments after the finisher's medal was hung around my neck by a smiling volunteer, the bombs went off - one after the other - and the nightmare began.

I'll never forget the sound of those detonations, about 12 seconds apart.

I can still hear the crashing as the tables that were laden with food, water, and medals in the finish area were tossed aside to make way for emergency vehicles.

I can still hear the sirens, wailing out the city's shock and pain. 

I still feel the echoes of the heartache and angst that began moments after the finisher's medal was placed around my neck.

Today, we remember the lives lost, and those that were forever changed. We remember, too, the loss of innocence. 

But "Boston Strong" rose in its place in a powerful way that continues to inspire.

Today, the joy will be reclaimed.

This morning, the hallowed road from Hopkinton to Boston will be filled with 36,000 runners of every description, and their route will be lined with a million wonderful people cheering their lungs out for every single one of them, as they always do.  Maybe even a little louder, if that's possible.  I know it will be a glorious, triumphant, and cathartic marathon for every runner, every spectator, every wonderful volunteer, every vigilant public servant, for the great organizers, and for a city that I love

I wish that I was in Boston today. But my heart is there. And a piece of it always will be.

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