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Tuesday, April 16, 2013

On Boston

Last night, after dinner, after the kids had been bathed, the dog fed, the kitchen cleaned, and everyone settled in for the evening, I changed into my running clothes as I do every evening at this time.  And, I sat on the kids' step stool in the bathroom to lace up my shoes, and for some reason, that act of lacing up my shoes brought me to tears.

So, I sat on the step stool and cried.  Just for a moment.  Long enough to use up the tears that swept over me, but not so long as to dwell with them.

Then, I finished lacing up my shoes and I went out and ran.

It was nothing special: A 3 mile route that I run nearly everyday.  I didn't run fast.  I didn't have any earth-shattering epiphany.  I didn't completely resolve any feelings of grief, fear, despair, frustration, or sadness.  I didn't have any newfound faith in humanity or any restoration of the power of good or heroism.

When I got back, the world was still the same place it had been when I'd set out.  It was no different and neither was I.  But.

I felt better.

And so we run. 

Maybe away.  Maybe toward.

As Tim O'Brien says at the end of his story, "The Things They Carried," "[Our] loads will be heavier" but, we find the strength to "carry on."

Run on, friends, run on.


Anonymous said...

The power of the run - enough said.

Unknown said...

This is probably my favorite Boston post of all the bloggers I read. Thank you.

Erika . . . with a K said...

Holy shit you said exactly what I felt. When words mean nothing..., just keep on running.

Krissy said...

So very true, I had a masters swim practice last night that I didn't realize how much I needed until I came home. I just felt like for that hour and half of swimming hard I cleared my mind for the moment and boy did I need that. Today I go out and run for the first time since the events that unfolded on Tuesday in Boston. We just need to keep on keeping on.

Unknown said...

So well said. I run to escape. It is the best therapy ever