running for grilled cheese

i've been dreaming about april 15, 2013 all winter. i've been dreaming about april 15 while running in the rain with tim and the wonderful tufts marathon team, and up the newton hills, and while eating jelly beans during runs past wellesley college. i've been dreaming about april 15 in my sleep, while writing fundraising messages, and while thinking about which sports bra to wear on marathon monday.

i believe that the act of running a marathon is inherently self interested. it's personal. the motivation to run 26 miles can't come from outside of a human being--it has to come from within. and you have to focus within to get it done. it is something that i have done with tim, and as part of a team, and to raise money for a worthy cause. but ultimately, i did it for myself. i did it to prove to myself that i could set a goal, work hard, and accomplish something. i did it to conquer my habit of quitting, and to celebrate living--to become more aware of how lucky i am to be breathing and feeling the pain that comes along with running long distances. i also did it for the endorphins. and for grilled cheese.

i have never been in a war zone. i have never witnessed a shooting, and i have never even seen any real trauma. i've just imagined it. a lot. i always seem to be stirring up "worst-case scenarios" in my head. most of these scenarios are derived from things i've seen on TV or read in the news. 

funny, then, that the thought of something tragic like this happening at the boston marathon, at a place which is hallowed ground for so many runners who have experienced the euphoria that comes with doing "the thing that you thought you could not do," never crossed my mind. a person who constantly thinks of what could go wrong has only been thinking of the good that can come with the event. that says something about what the boston marathon stands for. and i don't think for a moment that i'm unique in this way of thinking. for all of the runners who have ever crossed the boston marathon finish line, the finish line is not a physical place. it is a dream. it is a moment of euphoria, of self satisfaction, and of gratitude.

whoever chose to inflict trauma on all of us on april 15, 2013 must have known that. they were bombing an idea, and a dream, just as much as they were bombing a physical location on boylston street. and for many of us, this dream was personal.

it is a dream that the coach of the tufts marathon team, don megerle, has the opportunity to live out every year, as he stands at the finish line and waits for every single last tufts marathon team runner to finish (in one case, he says, this amounted to almost 10 hours of waiting). don does not believe in complaining. and i can't imagine that he has complained about what happened on april 15, 2013. even though that finish line means more to him than anyone i've come in contact with.

i am so grateful to the friends and family who supported my training over the past few months, and to coach don and the tufts marathon team for the incredible opportunity to participate in the marathon. most especially, i am grateful to my partner in life, tim, who provided many a pep talk throughout the process. finish line or no finish line, it was still an opportunity. a few months ago, i would have told you that having the opportunity to run the boston marathon was a "once-in-a-lifetime" thing for me. but i have a feeling that we'll be crossing some other finish line at some point in the future--because running reminds me that i'm lucky to be alive. something i'm even more aware of after april 15, 2013.