A race is the culmination of weeks and weeks of work. It's a day to test yourself, to see how your training paid off, and to hopefully revel in the glory of the realization of your goals, making those early morning speed workouts and skipped Friday nights at the bar worth it. It's a day of camaraderie, celebrating your achievement with loved ones and fellow racers, because it would be a lonely road to attempt alone. And for some, it's also a day of sorrow, of broken dreams and failed goals. But it should never be a day of terror. The ancient Greeks halted wars and laid down their weapons for the celebration of athletics. To bring violence to the athletic arena, to violate that beautiful sanctuary by launching an attack against the innocent volunteers and spectators lining the finish line, who selflessly took time out of their day to cheer on a group of athletes, whether they were loved ones or strangers, is beyond abominable. Boston, my heart is broken for you.
|Picture courtesy of Running Warehouse|