THE DARKROOM: Runner's for Boston

A week ago, two bombs went off at the finish line of our nation's oldest and most revered marathon. It was horrific. It was tragic. It was terrible. It was grotesque. It was deeply saddening. I will not attempt to explain it or even try to give my own take on it. I will only say that I do not understand what happened and that it will be a long time before I can wrap my small mind and shallow consciousness around it, but I think in the face of something like this, we should silence ourselves and learn from something as basic as running. When an event like this occurs, I, at most feel helpless and insignificant, but here are two images that I feel we can gather the most out of and they are the images of the runners ignoring the finish line, something many of them had worked a multitude of years to cross, in an attempt to help those who had been hurt and the images of those who crossed the finish line and ran another two miles, making for a total of 28 miles, to the nearest hospital to give of their own blood.

It has been a hard year on running. There was Hurricane Sandy and the NYC marathon. They were left at a crossroads and chose to host the race as a means to highlight the human spirit, but all it made runners look like was a parasitic host trying desperately to make itself look good in face of human loss and tragedy. It was terrible and yet it was also a time for running and running community to redefine itself. And then seven days ago, two bombs went off hurting hundreds of people and killing four at the finish line of America's most prestigious race. And so, it was once again time for the running community to redefine themselves and redefine the sport and from the images that I have seen, I believe that I will be inspired long after the tragedy has become a cold item in the news. Now it became time again to look to the simple of running to help us know where to turn and what to do. And at most running stores across the country, this is where hundreds and I'm sure probably thousands upon thousands gathered for moments of silence and for some outlet to feel useful. Our local running store, Run Fit Sports, was no different, so FH and I got in our car and headed over.

The run for Boston began at 6:30 and Ford and I arrived at around 6:24 and there were already hundreds gathered.

Not a great picture and you can't really see the people, but I was impressed and yet overwhelmed that so many had turned out to run the 2.62 memorial run.

And at 6:32, we headed off after some instructions from the store owner. He reminded us twice that it was not a race, but rather a group run, which reminded me that, that is one of the key components of running and also key in the face of national or personal tragedy. We are not alone. We are standing on the shoulders of giants and all those that have gone before us and they are holding us up and those that surround us are holding us when we cannot hold ourselves.

And so, we took off and ran and felt the ground beneath our feet and I was glad to be moving. Running is about a movement forward. You do not run backwards. A good racer will not even look behind because all that matters is the way forward. And once on the run, running is about silence and listening to the sounds that surround you and inside your body. Boston is about these two things. A movement forward and about listening.

And we charged the hills and glided down their backsides and breathed the air and smelled the good green earth that encapsulated us and yet provided the freedom of space to move forward.

And at the end, we were once again surrounded by people and those we love all doing what we love. This is where we must all go. There must be faith in better days and times. There must be hope that life will not be solely tragic. And there must be the love of people and place. And we must gather these bold affections and protect them because without them, life is far from valuable and we must prove them true, even in the most simple of acts like pushing a little wheeled stroller over some hills and through a neighborhood proving that we are alive and that we can and will go on.