The recent (today) explosions at the Boston Marathon finish line has had a deep effect on me. Not only as a runner, but as someone who has completed a marathon, who knows that if I work hard, I too can someday qualify for Boston. Today I ran a little over 6 miles, I have a half coming up in June, the 13.1 a perfect race for a full time student / student teacher. Training for a marathon takes months, and ends with long 20 + mile runs. In order to run Boston you must complete a qualifying marathon within a certain time. I think of the finish line at the race today, at all those people who weren’t able to cross because someone wanted to hurt people. I think of the hope a runner feels passing thousands of strangers, cheering her on, playing music, spraying her with a hose on a hot day. I think of the good will of humanity that is spotlighted at races, the volunteers who help, handing out water, and running along side you (thank you lady in Hartford, I wasn’t sure I could do it.) And I am sad, I am sad for the spectators who were injured or killed, I am sad for the runners who worked toward this goal, to have a dream dashed by an individual who wished to incite fear and cause pain. I am sad because a little of my bubble has burst, my “people” have been affected, my fellow runners, people who I smile at when running by, people who know how hard it is to get out of the house on a cold day, people who know how much pain comes the day after a race. Tomorrow I will run with my friend, we will pass sheep and geese, an occasional car or two. I will run for those affected today, I will run for my “people.”