Explosions Near Boston Marathon Finish Line
Today is Monday, April 15. I have just submitted the May issue of Colorado Runner to our printer and settled back to watch the coverage of the Boston Marathon. The elite American women are led by U.S. Olympian Shalane Flanagan, with her training partner Kara Goucher in sixth. I’m happy for Jason Hartmann of Boulder when he finishes a strong fourth. And I’m excited for Boulder runners Lee Troop and Fernanda Cabada when they cross the finish line in 15th and 16th. I turn the coverage off after the elites finish and decide to answer some emails. An email comes in reporting an explosion at the race. I’m stunned. I turn the tv back on and think, “Where’s the finish line? Where are the runners? What is going on?”
I am in a state of disbelief as the news unfolds about the explosions, the injuries to spectators, and the malicious intent of the act. My thoughts and prayers are with all of those involved – the runners, the race organizers, and volunteers, and even friends in the media that are covering the race. Ever since I ran the New York City Marathon just seven weeks after the terrorist attacks on September 11, I have wondered if something like this could happen. I think back to the dozens of marathons that I’ve run, that I’ve volunteered at, or that I’ve reported on from the sidelines. When thousands of runners converge on a city for a marathon, it’s such a happy, innocent time. Total strangers line the streets to cheer runners on. Bands play. No one boos. And Boston is one of the world’s best races. It’s a race that all marathoners want to be able to run.
Marathons like Boston represent strength, endurance, and courage. The stories from race day are usually tales of personal achievement and triumph, about setting fundraising milestones, and about setting personal records. Anyone who knows me knows that I absolutely love running and marathoning. I’ve run 60 marathons. It’s more than a hobby, it’s an obsession. Marathoners put in countless hours of training for the chance to compete in Boston. Marathons are celebrations. But today I just see screaming and chaos. I feel vulnerable.
I turn to Facebook and Twitter to find out if any friends were injured. My wife’s friend was crossing the finish line when the first blast went off. Her husband and their two young daughters were in the stands. They report through social media that they are safe. But I watch her run across the finish line with smoke bellowing behind her as the television news plays the scene over and over and over again. I think, “That could be my wife. My kids. Just like it has been at so many races.” A fellow magazine colleague reports that he is safe but on lockdown in the marathon media center. I see reports from old friends that they finished before the blasts and are safely at their hotels. I hear from another friend that someone I know was at 25 miles when it happened. And I think, “Thank heavens they are all safe.”
So I’m writing this publisher’s letter with little idea of what will end up happening the rest of today. But I at least wanted to address the event before this issue of Colorado Runner is printed. I’m shocked and saddened by the explosions that have taken place at today’s Boston Marathon. I’m horrified by the injuries and the loss of life that is being reported. My condolences go out to all of those affected by this unspeakable act. But I ultimately know that today’s events will not stop runners from running or competing. We are strong and resilient. Strength. Endurance. Courage. That’s what marathoning represents.
Derek Griffiths