Boston

Running is a universal language. Like a smile or a hug, it transcends language barriers, cultural and educational backgrounds, and doesn't care on which "side of the tracks" you grew up. Being a runner has nothing to do with your pace, whether you run a 5K or a 50K, or if you run organized races or out on your own. Running breeds instant kinship between all other runners. A bond that makes strangers, friends, and friends, brothers. Which is why, when my running community is shaken as it was today, I am shaken with it.

Today was the Boston Marathon, one of the major marathons. Approximately 4 hours into the race, two bombs went off near the finish line, killing at least 3, including an 8-year old, and injuring more than a 100 others. Some witnesses reported runners who lost their legs. When the news broke, I was still at work. I watched some footage with my coworkers, my heart sinking and my eyes filling with tears. Senseless doesn't even begin to describe the event.

Tonight's 3 miler was a heavy hearted one. Despite the rain it was necessary to go out. To run out of solidarity. To run as a way of honoring my fellow runners. To run because that's what we do. There are events in life that we cannot control...some good, some bad. No matter what, we hold tight to the people we love, we help the people who need us, we fight for those that cannot fight for themselves...

We run.