On Boston

There was a race, two explosions, pain, death, and fear.

These are the facts I know regarding what transpired Monday in Boston. After that it’s conjecture, assumption, and projection of the fifth fact – fear – most commonly manifested in anger. Furthermore, its abundantly clear we do not know who is responsible for this monstrosity. As of now, that doesn’t matter.

There are too many people to care for to be upset, to point fingers, to be angry.

These are complicated matters and I’m not about to tell anyone how to digest this. But I can and I hope to offer some solace. Some semblance of understanding that while this event is horrific, our first fact – that there was a race – has allowed me to remember that there is good.

Because perhaps the Boston Marathon can serve as its own metaphoric silver lining? A reminder that while running is an individual sport, it’s a universal celebration. Victory on the course is not exclusive to the podium. The winners aren’t determined by who finished behind them, but rather by finishing at all.

As I watched video of the explosions Monday, I couldn’t help but notice how many people moved¬†towards the scene, the bib numbers reversing course to help. They moved that way to ensure that anyone there – a marathoner or otherwise – could finish their race. So everyone could have their shot at being a winner.

In that horrifying moment, those after, and the days to come I’ll choose to remember that this is indeed a race. The human kind.

A perpetrator will be found and blame attributed, truths of justice we can and often do find consolation in. This is no doubt an integral part of these processes. As of now, we don’t know their intent. As of now, it doesn’t matter. As of now,¬†there are too many people to care for.

Too many people in the race to help to victory.

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