Boston was all I could think about this week.
On Tuesday morning, the sky still dark, I left my house for an easy four miles. It was terribly windy around Calhoun and I only saw one other runner braving the elements. This surprised me, though I don't know why.
Later that day, and throughout the week, people would be posting meeting locations for group runs to "run for Boston" in a show of solidarity. I didn't go to any of those runs.
It's not that I don't feel an especially big pull on my heart for Boston. As a human being, what they did was pure evil. As a runner, you can't stop your mind from going to That could have been my family, my friends. I could have witnessed that. But could have quickly gives way to what is and I begin to think about the people and families affected, and what is to become of them after the cameras turn off, after #BostonStrong stops trending on Twitter.
My mind goes further when I think of the reality of what is for other parts of the world, where what happened in Boston is a daily occurrence. Daily.
All week I've heard various race directors answer the What will you do to make [insert name here] marathon safer this year? And they'd give the cookie-cutter Safety is our top priority answer. Because it's true.
But the unspoken truth is that there is nothing they can do. No amount of police-patrolling, bag-banning, body-scanning will prevent something like this from happening in the future. Evil people will always find a way to hurt others. That's the truth.
It's not an exaggeration to say the reality we knew yesterday no longer exists today. It's heavy, heavy stuff that, for me, can only be worked out through a lot of conversations with God and a lot of solo running.