I don't have anything new to say.

Nothing profound, nothing moving, nothing more than what is merely an echo of what is being said by thousands of others this morning.

I may or may not even hit publish, and if I do, I will know that it is likely because I am just trying to make myself feel better.  I am searching for comfort that I don't even understand why I need.

I'm not sure why this has affected me more than the dozens of other tragic events that have filled our world over the past few years.  Maybe it's because I lived in Boston for a while, but I don't think that's it.  Maybe it's because I stood in the exact spot that is being circled on maps and infographics, two years ago, myself cheering for loved ones.  But I don't think that's it either.  The poet pointed out that had he been running, the time on the clock would have been his and I would have been there on the sidelines, and his voice shook when he said it.  And I had a pretty bad ten minutes yesterday afternoon trying to track down some of the dearest friends to my heart, one running, some cheering, all in harm's way.  All, I know now, safe.

I could write about how these are my people, this is my family, but if you are reading this, than these are also your people, your family, so you understand.  That is not something that needs to be said.

All I could do yesterday afternoon was stare out the window and watch the snow fall.  And then I came home and gathered my family to me and sat on the couch and stared into space until I looked up and noticed that it was night.

I know that social media is reaching out and gripping each other's hands, together, like they tend to do.  People need people, people need reminders that they are alive, people lean towards fight.  But I desire flight.  And maybe it makes me horrible, but I can't bear to be a part of it, to watch it all go by.  I don't want to repost quotes or RT so someone will donate money or wear things or say things or do things.  

I just want to sit here.  In my own silence, stunned, with my aching heart, and grieve.


  1. I think alot of people feel this way too, myself included. In at a work conference three hours from home and an anxious to get back there tonight. When 9-11 happened I was a 19 year old kid and all I wanted was to be at home. Valuing home and family and encouraging others to do the same and respect their fellow humans is the best thing we can do so maybe, just maybe, there will be a shift in society in the right direction.

  2. My running group had a few runners there & I knew 2 co-workers running. All accounted for and safe, thankfully. This one hit me pretty hard too, and I don't understand all of the reasons. But I think a big reason it is hitting us runners so hard is that the spectators were the largest casualties. We sign on for all the training and sweat and abuse we put ourselves through - though no one signs up to get killed. But our loved ones don't - they drag themselves out of bed at weird hours, and pick us up battered at finish lines. They sherpa our gear and try to find us in crowds of stinky sweat. And often, they're the thing that gets us to the finish line when we're three steps past ready to fall down - we just focus in on who we're supposed to meet, with their excited face and yelling voice. They'll be waiting. They wait. With no idea how f*n important they are in this whole mess of training we do. It's not like it would be okay if it were mostly the runners that were hurt - no part of this is okay. But we feel like we prepare ourselves for anything to happen on run day - like somehow we'd be trained for this. But our supportive loved ones - they're our achilles heel. Our most vulnerable moving part. Even though in that moment, they're the strong ones. It's weird and hard to explain. But I can't get out of my head how many finish lines my husband has waited at for me undecided whether to cry, run or punch something.

  3. There is still comfort knowing that everyone else feels the same way. That finish time isn't for the people who typically qualified by being fast, so it could have been any of us. that's why it hits home so hard.

  4. I too was hit hard by this and sat frozen in front of the TV. I wanted to blame it on my pregnancy hormones but while I was so sad I was also proud of our running community and all the people in Boston that come out to support and volunteer and have been there to help everyone through this.

  5. Beautiful post, thank you Katie! I'm SO SO thankful that everyone I know and love is SAFE...but my heart aches for those who we lost or are gravely harmed. #prayforboston

  6. It takes away one more layer of innocence...innocence on race day...we can't let it. You are protecting yourself. Totally understandable. <3

  7. Thanks for posting that - you captured a lot of what I was feeling yesterday :-( Hug the puppies...hug them a lot...

  8. this felt personal. it too easy to put myself in the shoes of the runners, the spectators, the wounded. those are my people and it could have just as easily been me. or mr. dawn. terrifying.

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