26.2

When I set out on my run this morning, I was determined.  No, I knew I couldn't run 26.2 miles to honor those hurt and suffering from yesterday's attacks, but I knew I could run something.  As I ran, 2.62 seemed right.  I set my sights on it.

I think about those who set their sights on the ultimate - the BOSTON.  My goal in 2012 was to run a half marathon.  And not at qualifying pace, just to finish.  I haven't even gotten to my first full, and I know I will, but to even get to that Boston starting line is a runner's dream come true.

Will I make it to Boston?  Ever?  I don't want to say, no, never, but I'm realistic.  It's likely that Akron, Columbus, Pittsburgh - those will be my future races, not an international race like this.  But I know the feeling of making it to race day.  I know the feeling of nervousness, excitement.  I know what it's like to have loved ones there, cheering me on.

From here, I could write about how sick it is to do something like this on such a happy day, but I don't want to give the darkness any more time.

Yesterday, thousands had made it - to BOSTON.  To that race. The most famous marathon I know.  Their families were there, cheering them on.  And while something horrible happened, there were still many that finished.  Many that cheered.  So many that ran to help, to comfort, to give blood.

I can't imagine what yesterday was like for them.  But I am so thankful for the light that comes through the darkness.  I'm so thankful for the opportunity to run this morning and honor them.

And someday, when I cross the finish line of my first FULL marathon, while it won't be at Boston, I'll think of them.  I'll think of those who had come so far, those who cheered, those who helped.

Let's all run on for them.