"Does this make you nervous about your half now," he asked me, "I mean, all those people..." And he's right. Now, not only do I have to be nervous about actually running a good 13 miles, I have to be nervous about what could be waiting for me at the finish line. No one should ever have to worry about danger at the end of a glorious event. Yet, that is the world we live in now. But...no, it doesn't make me nervous. I won't let it. It just makes me sad, really. My heart...my running shoes...heavy for Boston. For the runners who trained their hearts out for perhaps the best of all marathons. For the spectators taking time out of their days to provide smiling faces and words of encouragement along the way.
It wasn't supposed to end like that.
Nothing is ever supposed to end like that.
So what do we do?
What CAN we do?
And HOW do we do it?
We just do. We lace up. We run.
Not by bombs, not by broken limbs, and certainly not by broken hearts.
These things, they make us stronger.
They have to make us stronger.
Because if we sit stagnant in the glow of weakness, well...they win. Whomever they may be.
And they can't win. Not this one. Certainly not any one.
So, go...run for Boston. Run for peace, love and happiness everywhere.
Run because you can, no matter the distance. No matter the day.
Run because you live. Because you love.