I Am A Runner

As those of you who know me or follow this blog know, I've been running in organized races for nearly 10 years now. 5Ks, 10Ks, even a marathon in 2011 and another marathon just 18 days from now. I have a wonderful and expanding group of friends who run with me, and it's been an important part of my life.

And yet, since I started running, I've felt like a fraud, like I'm not a real runner. I run/walk most of the time, doing intervals to get through my various distances, so in the back of my mind, that felt a little like cheating, like I wasn't a real runner. And I'm slow, slower than most, often leaving me feeling like a real runner would be faster than me.

In the back of my mind, there has always been this nagging voice saying, "you're not a real runner."

Until Monday. Monday, I realized that I am a runner.

When I first heard about the horrible bombing at the Boston Marathon, like everyone, I was so sad, and so angry at the cowards that perpetrated this terrorism. But it was a deeper sorrow than I expected. It made me physically sick to my stomach and hurt my heart in a profound way that someone had done such a heinous thing at a marathon. Someone had done this to runners, the most encouraging and caring community I have ever encountered.

I was indescribably heartbroken for the 8 year old boy and two young women that were killed and for all the people that were mutilated and injured senselessly. But I was also heartbroken for the runners and the volunteers and the spectators because I have been a volunteer and a spectator and I knew what had been stolen away from them. I have been a marathon runner. It was incredibly personal. These were my people that were attacked. I felt sad that such a wonderful experience was stolen from thousands of people, that their tears were not going to be for the joy of accomplishment, but would instead be shed for the people hurt and killed and terrorized in the attack.

I realized that this hurt me so much because I am a runner. I am a member of this community. I realized that running isn't about how fast I go or whether or not I walk for a few minutes during a run. Being a runner is being part of a group of encouraging people, whether they be fellow runners, volunteers or spectators at a race. Being a runner means cheering on someone who is tired and stretching herself beyond her limits, or crying with your friends at the finish line as they finish their first marathon. Being a runner means I will do whatever I can to help this community that is hurting, even if it's just lacing up my shoes and going for a run (or a run/walk in my case).

And in Boston, being a runner meant running toward the danger to help out your fellow humans or running beyond the finish line to Mass General to give blood for the injured. Or, as I just saw in a story on Facebook, giving up your finishers medal to a stranger who wasn't able to finish because of the bombing.

I am a runner and in 17 days, when I run my marathon and get to experience that wonderful day that will stretch me to my limits and beyond, I will dedicate it all to my fellow runners in Boston.




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