Perspective From Menlo Park: Boston Marathon Hit Too Close To Home

The alarm went off at 6:15am on Monday April 15th I rose to turn on my laptop and logged in to watch the 117th Boston Marathon online. The Boston Marathon has held a very special place in heart ever since I was coached by Rey Flores who hailed from the Boston area, I lived in Boston for two years, and I was there cheering the marathoners in 2006 at Copley Square. Boston was where I went to figure out or to get a clue what it meant to be an American after 9/11.

I had three teammates of Wolfpack Running Club, many member of the extended PA-USATF family, and RunCoach.com competing at Boston. I eagerly awaited to receive the text message alerts at the 10k, Half Marathon, 30k, and Finish that I would quickly post on Facebook so my other teammates could celebrate the success of our runners.   

It was an amazing race. So many great stories! I was fired up seeing the amazing performances of Shalane Flanagan, Kara Goucher, Jason Hartmann, and my teammates were having amazing races! I was so fired up that I went for a run to visualize attaining my Boston Qualifying time. The Chicago Marathon in October is where I am making my next attempt.

I returned from my run and I started to worry. One of my teammates had not crossed the finish line yet. Then I got the first word of bombs going off at the finish line. I felt my heart being torn from my chest. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t stop worrying. The images the new videos were all too much, too raw, too close to home. There were brief moments of relief as I got word via Facebook that my friends were ok. Finally, I received the last text message of my third teammates crossing the finish line. She crossed the finish line six minutes before the bombs went off.

I turned off the TV, closed the laptop, and left the house. I did a few things that I had on my list like visit the chiropractor, get a hair cut, and then drove over to Fleet Feet Sports.    

Tuesday morning I found out the child that was killed in the bombing was from Dorchester a quintessential Boston neighborhood that was my first home in the City of Boston.  

I dedicated my track workout Tuesday night to Boston, the victims, and all who had a runner, a volunteer, or a supporter at the Boston Marathon. During my cool down I was overcome with tears for a few strides then shook them off and cheered my teammates as they finished their workout. I finally felt normal again.

Let us not forget the amazing feats that were accomplished, let us celebrate the first responders, let us cope, let us heal, and Run for Boston!