Yesterday, two (sort-of) exciting things happened over here on my blog. I hadn’t actually planned on these things happening on the same day, so I think it’s kind of interesting that they did.
1. Yesterday’s post was my 50th blog post.
2. It was also my 1 year anniversary of having this blog.
If you were to go back and look, you’ll see that my first post was made in July, so you might be wondering about the 1 year anniversary claim. I agree, it’s suspicious, but when you read this post, you’ll agree that yesterday was indeed the one year anniversary of my blog. However, you’ll then start doubting the accuracy of the 50th blog post claim. Confused? Read on.
I began running at the tail end of college, and moved to Boston immediately after graduation. (The two were not related.) I didn’t know anything about the Boston Marathon at the time beyond the fact that it existed, but it didn’t take long to figure out that it was something special.
The first year I was in the city for the race, I started my own marathon tradition of obsessively watching live updates of the marathon while I spent the day at work. I would then go home and watch the entire 4 hour long broadcast of the marathon that I had recorded. (I never said it was an exciting tradition.) Every year I was beyond excited for the marathon. I’d smile at the motivational advertisements that started popping up on the streets of Boston weeks before the race. I’d pour over Runner’s World trying to decide which American would finally win the race again. And, on the day of the race I’d grin like an idiot as I walked past the many busses ready to transport runners to the start line.
I never went to watch the marathon in person. I was always super busy at work that day, and didn’t want to take the PTO, but I also didn’t want to miss the exciting play by play of watching/following the elites running the race. And, I don’t really like crowds. So, every year I’d get really excited for the race, think “Should I go this year? Can I convince someone to stand at the end with me to watch the elite runners?”, and then I’d just go to work, and tell anyone who’d listen how the race was going.
Last year, was no different. Except, I had decided that it was time to start a running blog. And the night before the marathon, one year ago last night, I made my very first post about how excited I was for the race the next day. The next morning, I continued on with my tradition, I went to work, listened/watched to the live stream of the marathon while working, and was looking forward to watching marathon coverage in the evening.
But, then, that never happened.
In the middle of the afternoon my husband called my cell phone. He told me there had been some kind of “explosion or something” near the finish line of the marathon and he had left work. They heard/felt the bombs go off from his building and although they didn’t know what was going on, the head of his department told them they should all leave. (Eventually, his entire building was evacuated.) He told me he would walk over to my office to meet me and we should catch the next train home. I was confused, and told him that I had too much work to do to leave but we could decide when he got there.
As soon as I got off the phone, I did a google search to see what was going on. At first, nothing was coming up because it had just happened, but eventually I learned that two bombs had gone off near the finish line and people were injured and possibly killed. No one knew who had done it or if it was really over. After finding this out, I tried to call Jeff back, but cell service was spotty now.
Eventually, one of us got through to the other and I met him in the lobby of my building. After a quick chat, I was on board to leave the office early and head home with him. I was glad we were together and on our way out of the city. On the train ride home, we attempted to contact our families and let them know we were okay, as well as checking in with anyone we could think of that might have been down at the finish line. We learned that my sister in law was working a medical tent in the area, but was completely fine, aside from being stranded downtown. I feel so lucky that I didn’t have any friends or family that were running or spectating where the bombs went off.
We made it home, spoke to our families and then watched the news for a (very) little bit. I couldn’t believe this horrible thing had happened. I was angry, sad, and scared. And I felt so bad for every one that was hurt or had loved ones that were hurt or killed.
I didn’t really know what to do. So we went running.
In the days and weeks that followed, people came together to help and support the people injured in the bombings. People from all over were showing that they/we were BostonStrong. Even the President made a speech about the city picking itself up and running again. I’m happy for those things, and I’m proud to live in a world where for every two people willing to do something evil, there are hundreds, thousands more wanting to do something good.
At the time, I was a brand new blogger, and I had no idea how to write about any of this on the blog. So, instead I deleted my previous (first ever) post and then abandoned the blog until I felt like writing again; in July. So, you see, I’ve had the blog for a year. My first post was in July, but it also wasn’t, and yesterday’s was my 50th post, but it also wasn’t.
Today, I wasn’t sure I was going to write about the bombings. I still feel sad and angry about it, and I’d rather write about things that make me happy (who wouldn’t?), but today isn’t just about remembering the terrible things that happened a year ago, it’s also about celebrating the strength of all the people who have come so far from that day. And for me, it’s about being thankful for all the wonderful people in my life and for being grateful that I am healthy and happy and able to run, and it’s also about moving on.
So this morning, like last year, I went for a run, but this time, I also came in and wrote about it.
BostonStrong last year at work on the day of the manhunt.
After my run this morning.