I tend to be a blogger of few words in times like this. Whatever I try to write usually comes out sounding trite or cliche, so I stay silent and make room for the more eloquent.  But I know I won’t ever be able to effectively blog about running again without sharing a few words about how yesterday has affected me as a runner and as a human being.

This is not just about a marathon.  It’s about THE marathon.  One of the most prestigious running events of them all.  A marathon that runners dream of and train their hearts out for — for months and even years — just to be able to run fast enough to qualify to participate.  Running in Boston is about the pure joy of running.  Every mile out there on that race course yesterday should have been a celebration of these runners’ spirit, perseverance, dedication, and determination.

But someone out there wanted to destroy that.  Not just by hurting runners, but by hurting the family and loved ones who cheer us on and sacrifice so much more than their time to support every step we take.   And that breaks my heart into a million little pieces.

Still, I know the marathon is perhaps one of the purest expressions of the triumph of the human spirit. To put one foot in front of the other, even when one more step seems impossible.  This can never be destroyed.  Runners will continue to do what they know best — to run, to persevere, to find joy despite the pain.

Every run from now on, I will be thankful for this.  Each mile will be dedicated to those who lost their lives, to those who will not walk again, to those whose celebration was cut short, and to those who risked their lives to help others.  Thank you for reminding us that that is what it’s really all about.