Jon and I know many individuals, runners and their friends/families, who were there, in the midst of the turmoil. We spent almost 6 hours scrambling on the internet, Facebook and emails, doing our best to salvage some scrap of communication from them all, just to know they were safe, the race itself no longer important. Although I can only imagine how heartbreaking it was for so many to come so close to the finish line, and not be able to finish, I am not sure I will ever be able to understand how terrified they and their loved ones must have felt in the face of such tragedy.
We in Guelph were very relieved to hear everyone in our 'running family' was safe.
Having stood with our four children and my mother-in-law no more than 100m away from the very spot of the tragedy in Boston, while anticipating Jon crossing the Finish Line only one year ago, the relief translated itself into tears for me.
This week for many of us, marked the beginning of taper time in anticipation for running either the Toronto Goodlife Marathon, or Mississauga Marathon, both on May 5th -- apropos perhaps to the events in Boston, it gave us time to reflect not only on what had occurred with our friends, but also on ourselves, and how our training has gone, how runs were completed, where we can envision ourselves on race day in a couple of weeks (well, 12 days to be exact...).
It gave us time to reflect on our hill training, our long runs, our relationships with our running partners and larger group of running friends, but also with our partners, spouses and families - to how supportive they have been of us during this long process of training for a marathon - how tired we are five out of seven days of the week, and the one 'recovery' day after the long run, even more tired still. How understanding they have been of our needs, our goals, our accomplishments (some minor, but present nonetheless), and how helpful they have been during times of illness, recovery from injuries, family challenges and tragedies, and just plain tolerance of the new people we are morphing into as we become 'runners.'
Along with the events at the Boston Marathon, this week was further punctuated by a very dear member of our running family passing away after fighting a remarkable battle with Inflammatory Breast Cancer for almost 3 years. As a Palliative home care nurse in my younger years, hearing of Lynn's move to our local Hospice late last week put tears in my eyes, 'knowing' that once an individual moves to Hospice, their time with us is not long. Lynn transferred there on Thursday, and we were notified, with already heavy hearts, that she passed away on Monday morning. Lynn's smile, strength and compassion will be remembered by countless many in the running community - her husband David an icon in Guelph, known to run our local Bootcamp sessions year-round.
As our running 'partners' and our friends/families have done for us, we, as a running family must now, and always, step up to support our own, as and whenever they need it. No, we may not be eloquent speakers (or bloggers...), or know the right thing to say, but much like 'what happens on the long run, stays on the long run,' we hope they know we are *always* there to listen.
In the magnitude of the two events that happened this past week, both 'running nation-wide' and within our running family here in Guelph, taper-time has given us all some time to be able to reflect on how fortunate we are to have what we have -- the support and love of our immediate families and circle of friends, but also for the strength within our running family -- we encourage, persist for and support each other, like a true family. If it takes carrying one of our own and pushing them across the Finish Line before we cross seconds afterwards, or extra time listening on a long run, then that's what we do.
No comments:
Post a Comment