I've been running off and on for about 5 years now. I've always been somewhat hesitant to deem myself the official title of "runner" because I am slightly sporadic during most of the year. But as of Monday, I'm official.
I'm a runner.
I'll put the shoes on and I'll run every dang race I can get to.
Because I can.
I'll run in the hush of dawn and the peace of dusk.
I'll sprint up hills.
I'll dash through intervals.
Because I can.
I'll be fast.
I'll be slow.
Because I can.
I'll wear every racing bib with pride.
Because I can.
Yesterday, as I watched the coverage of the attack on the Boston Marathon, I cried. Yes, I cried because it was sad and horrible and awful. I cried because of the lives lost. I cried because it's just...wrong.
But you know why else I cried? Because of the triumph of the human spirit.
I cried when they showed footage of the heroes running towards the scene, not away. I cried when I heard that a website was set up with a list of names and numbers of people willing to drive people home, offering them a couch to sleep on, a meal to eat. And I cried because I saw marathoners seconds after the first bomb went off, still stride for the finish line! Runners don't stop. I cried when I saw that elderly gentleman get blown to the ground, shake it off, and still make it the finish line, because that chip timer is still ticking! I smiled through the tears at their dedication. And I can guarantee you that if those 4000 plus runners who didn't get to finish the marathon could come back next week and do it, they would. Runners don't stop.
And I cried because for the first time in a long time, we were all Americans again. Patriots, if you will, standing together shaking a collective fist at an unknown enemy. At a time when all you hear about is how much everyone hates everyone, Monday reminded us that what unites us is far greater than what divides us.
And that brings me to the reason for this post. I can't fly to boston and...I don't even know what I would do if I could get there. I don't know what to do. And I think in situations like this we all want to do something. anything. Just so it doesn't feel so out of control.
So on Sunday morning, the day most runners hit the roads, I am doing my own Prayer Run for Boston. During my very slow 10 mile long run on Sunday I'll be praying every step of the way for the citizens of boston, the victims, the runners who were deprived of finishing, the survivors, the families...
I know it's not much. And I'm fairly certain no one in Boston will ever know or perhaps even care that a part time runner from a West Texas town hit the road in their honor, but I'm doing it.
Because I can.
and you can.
The morning of Sunday April 21st, before you put on your Sunday best, lace up your running shoes and hit the streets. Run, jog, walk, sprint, but most of all pray. Let's fill the streets, San Angelo, as we lift our fellow patriots up in prayer.
