After the Marathon

The last time I sat down to write, I was thinking about how absolutely awesome the Boston Marathon is.

At the time, my plan for today was to replay some of the excitement from this year’s race, talk about my friends who were in the crowd, who ran the race – to celebrate the joyous event it is.

And just one day before the marathon, I was planning to write about standing on Boston Common watching one of my sons play baseball and talking to marathoners who came all the way from the UK for the race and ended up watching Ben’s game too.

But now, I am sitting here at my keyboard and am just pissed…Really pissed. 

Boston is a runners’ town. And the Boston Marathon is the perfect race. You’ve probably heard about its history, all of the great races and characters that are part of it.

But for me it goes even deeper – runners and Boston have the same personality.  We are tough, determined and unstoppable when we get moving.

Only in Boston could you have Heartbreak Hill near the end of the race.  And only in Boston would marathoners, after running 26.2 miles, run an additional 2 miles to area hospitals to give blood after someone tried to murder them.

So, what now?

Well, I don’t really know. 

Evil is like fog. It can obscure our vision and keep us from seeing those around us. It can separate and divide us.

Though technically sunny, I felt the fog today when I ran today. 

Usually, the first time I run after the marathon I hear shouts from people around town asking me if I ran in the Marathon, telling me to keep it up and just sharing the joy of the event.

Today, my first run after Marathon Monday, it was all quiet. It could have been that I was crying as I ran my 12 miles. But the fog seemed to be thick as I ran.  No one waved, cheered or shouted at me.  How could they?  

The good news is that fog never lasts forever.  And maybe, just maybe, if we all take a big breath and blow, we can see each other again.

We are all injured.  But we are all in the game, running through the fog.

I guess there really is only one thing I do know – good will always win and the fog will lift… eventually.

I’m mad as hell, and I will take a shot of that Dirty Water any day of the week.  And I know a friend or two that will pull up a barstool along side of me, too, for a swig of it.

For those who did this, I have one thing to say. You screwed with people who will run for hours and hours in the rain, the snow and the heat. They will struggle on with injuries, they will stand on the sidelines endlessly cheering for strangers - with the slimmest hope of seeing someone they love for a few seconds along the road.

There ain’t no way you are getting away.  We will eventually catch up to you.

Come follow me – just for fun at www.chantelwilsonchase.com or for health coaching at www.spiritualeats.com  I look forward to hearing from you!