on Boston

The morning of the Boston Marathon tragedy was the day I took my first run. Ever. Well, outside of being forced to in high school.  I exercise on the treadmill but I've never "gone for a run" outside.   I decided to out of familial logistical necessity.  My morning schedule was going to change drastically for about five days.  I didn't want to lose my treadmill time.  I didn't want to change my husband's and daughter's morning routine which takes place in the room with the treadmill.  I started thinking ahead to lady J's new preschool routine for the Fall.  A routine quite similar to this five day change and thought - "Ok, I'll go for a run these next few days and see if it's something I can then implement in the Fall."  I'll get up early.  I'll get out of the house.  I won't disrupt my family's routine.  I'll get my exercise. 

I went out and ran.  Well, I did a lot of walking too.  I kept making these basic discoveries about running and I kept thinking about how one day when I am an experienced runner these memories will be amusing.  Don't carry all of your keys.  The moving belt of the treadmill offers great motivation to keep running, frozen pavement does not.  The air has smells that change.  Misty rain feels good.  There are muscles in your ankles you will meet for the first time.  They will be testy about being awake.  They will be excited to be called to duty.  You breathe and sweat differently outside.  You don't have to start fast. 

I enjoyed my first run so much.   It was about 6:15am when I started and although the sun was up, the sky was still gray.  There was a bare tree ahead of me.  Dark against the lightening sky.  There was a bird sitting on a large, lone, branch.  Dark like the tree.  The bird could have been a gnarled bump if not for its distinctive, fowl, shape.  It was like a living postcard: one of those you buy and consider framing instead of sending out.   A part of me wanted to stop and just take it in for a moment, but I didn't want to stop running.  Not stopping excited me forward.  I enjoyed navigating the cracked and uneven pavement and not tripping.  I'll be able to run and not look down so much eventually, I coached myself.  I was starting to invest in the future of this already and that gave me a very satisfied feeling. 

I walked back in the house kind of cocky.  I went for a run.  I went for a run.  I recalled my husband's face when I told him the night before of my plan.  There was a raise of one eyebrow.  A slight smirk.  A look of admiration?  Yes, that was admiration.  What is it about that idea?  That phrase?  Going for a run.  Something about it.  Seriousness.  Focus.  Endurance.  Lone Wolf.  Strength.  Determination.  Dedication.  Drive.  Olympiad.

A few hours later.  Boston.  I, not being a runner, did not know the marathon was scheduled for that day.  That day that I got up and said to myself "This is a lame idea, I'll figure out another way to exercise."  Then immediately chastised myself, got up, and went for a run.

I haven't been back for a run until today.  This morning before apprehension of suspects was even beginning, I ran.  And tonight with the second suspect in custody, I'm thinking about that coincidence of my first run and this last Boston Marathon.

Run Boston.  Run runners.  Run.  Train.  Train to come back. Run to Boston again. Run for those who can not return. Run for those who can not run.  Do you see the sky?  Don't you love that gray?  Do you see that bird and that tree?  Run.  Run to, not from.  Run.  Glance down for the cracks and the uneven spots.  Don't look down for long.  Look up.  See where you're going.  Run.  Run.  Run.  I'm running behind you.  I'm here.  Beginning. I'm beginning. I'm watching you.  I see you.  I'm with you.  Run.  My eyebrow is raised.  I am smiling with a smirk.  You are running.  I watch in admiration.  Run, Boston.  Run.  Do. Not. Stop. Running.  Ever. Go. Go. Go. Go. Go. Go. Go. Go. Go for a run. Go for a run. Go for a run.  Go for a run.  Run.