A very brief note from me today. On April 15th, 2013, while I was breaking for lunch at a training program in beautiful Costa Rica, two bombs exploded at the finish line of the Boston Marathon where my wife was volunteering. It’s been a week now since the events, and the culprits have been caught/killed. I could go back and revisit the whole saga, but I won’t bore you with the details which are so well covered in the news, and that people will be be so quick to revisit.
The big lesson for me was how this even brought into focus in a very short period of time my identity. We go through life thinking we know who we are, but it is not until something so jarring that happens that you see it clearly in front of you.
After all was said and done, all I could go back to is: I am a runner, Boston is my home.
I am a runner, Boston is my home.
I am a runner, Boston is my home.
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