Remember when I warned all of you about the dollar machine brain I have? Well, it hit F-5 tornado status today. So please bear with me while I try to grab onto some of those dollars and make sense out of it for you.
I haven’t yet had the chance to actually watch the Marathon as I was at work. I obsessively taped anything and everything I could find that had anything at all to do with the race since last weekend. Every bit of info today was scooped from Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and I Heart Radio. I’m waiting until I’m alone to watch the broadcast for fear of being laughed at for crying over it. Then again, who cares. I’m an obsessive runner. Deal with it. And the unpredictable emotional outbursts. Just give me some Moose Tracks and I won’t feel the need to throw my running shoes at your head for making fun of me.
First, I couldn’t have been more proud of everyone who toed the start line in Hopkinton today. Whether or not you made it to Boylston Street doesn’t really matter. You had the courage to start. And that’s more than enough for me.
Second – and I know I wasn’t the only one – I almost cried like a baby when I heard Rita Jeptoo set a new women’s record. And again when Meb the Man held off Wilson Chebet of Kenya in the last 1,000 meters. Almost, because I was at work. And the big boss was around. He’s not too understanding of random emotional outbursts.
Runner or not, I think almost everyone can understand what today meant. I mean REALLY meant. Boston took back what it lost, even if it was only lost for a short time. The running community showed the world what it means to fight back and once again triumph. And one short, slow, slightly dumpy runner from south Florida went through the day with a lump in her throat, tears brimming in her eyes, and a heart swelled with pride at what this crazy sport has done for both this country and for athletes around the world. We stand together no matter how far apart we are, no matter what different races we run, and no matter how far apart our times may be. When we need to come together, we do. That’s just who, and what, we are. And I thank the running gods for that every day.
Enjoy the ride.
What was your favorite moment from the Boston Marathon?