Running Strong: One Week After the Boston Marathon

The past week has been one of tragedy and triumph for the running community.

Two brothers are accused of planting two bombs near the Boston Maraton finish line. The explosions killed three people—a police officer also was killed by the alleged bombers a few days later—and injured hundreds of runners/spectators.

Despite being a running newbie—I've only seriously considered myself a runner for a year—the bombings at the Boston Marathon hurt me to the core.

The Boston Marathon is no doubt one of the biggest running events in this country. Days before the marathon, I was daydreaming in bed about how one day I would make it there. Fast forward a few days, and there it was. Chaos.

As I watched the news coverage immediately following reports of the bombings, I was in complete shock. The footage of the bombs going off, the look of confusion/fear on the faces of the runners getting ready to cross the finish line, the knowledge that those who were hurt were fellow runners and spectators...the question "why?"—it all struck a chord.

It was absolutely heartbreaking to see the injured runners and spectators because I know what they were feeling mere seconds before those bombs went off. Those runners, who had put their bodies through months of rigorous training, could see their big finish just ahead. I've lived and felt that magic.

It breaks me because the three people who died—including an 8-year-old—all were spectators. The spectators were anxiously awaiting their loved ones, and if you ask me, they are the absolute most important piece of motivation for the runners. They keep you going when you think you can't take one more step.

I've felt that pain and negativity that runs through your head when you think you've had enough. Suddenly, you see your family and friends, or a complete stranger offers some words of encouragement, and you're set for several more miles.

Less than a month ago, I ran the Just a Short Run half marathon at North Park with strep throat. Simply put, I was miserable and unsure I would even be able to finish. But one thing kept me going, and that's my 8-year-old cousin, Zander, who flashed a smile, gave me high-fives and made a sign saying "Good Job, Heidi." I passed him three times before making it to the 13.1-mile mark, and it was all I needed to keep me going before each loop around the lake.

It was sobering to see how many people stepped up and helped last Monday. There are seriously some good people in this world. Instead of running away, they ran toward the chaos to do what they needed to do to keep people safe or to make sure they received the care they needed.

Runners all around the world, myself included, laced up their shoes and dedicated their runs to those in Boston. Fundraisers have begun. The community is more united than ever, and I am so proud to be a part of it.

Triumph has risen from the ashes of terror, and we will continue to run strong. Let's be the cheerleaders for the injured as they take on the long road to recovery. Let's Run for Boston.

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