Thursday, April 18, 2013
We are runners.
We run when we're happy and we run when we're sad. We run in celebration and we run in mourning. We run for every reason and for no reason at all.
We run when the sun is out and when the rain is falling. When it's windy and when it's snowing. When it's freezing cold or boiling hot.
We run when it's dark and when it's light. We run after the sun sets at night and long before it rises in the morning.
We run on streets and on trails. In the woods and on tracks.
All we need is our shoes. And we run.
And this week, we Run For Boston.
Soon after the bombs went off this past Monday, a movement began.
Runners all over the country and all over the world did what we do when we don't know what else to do. We put on our running shoes, and we ran.
We ran for us and for them. We ran for all the people who finished the marathon and those who were denied that moment. We ran because a city is grieving. We ran because we have hope for brighter days ahead.
We ran because to not run means letting terror destroy this sport that we love so fiercely, and we are better, and stronger than that.
And after we ran, we logged our miles and our messages on this Google Doc created by a runner in Columbus, Ohio who decided to connect with runners around the world in a massive showing of solidarity. As of this morning, over 3,300 runners have logged over 13,000 miles and have tweeted about their #RunForBoston.
And there's more. Because on Monday April 22nd, in cities across the country, groups are gathering in blue and yellow to run as one, Boston Strong. Because even though running is so often a solitary sport, sometimes we need to be a family. A running family.
I'll be joining #BostonStrongNYC at 6:30 on Monday evening at Tavern on the Green. If you are around the New York City area, lace up your running shoes and come run Central Park.
Together, we will #RunForBoston to mourn, to remember, to celebrate, and to begin to heal.