I am not, nor will I ever claim to be, a runner. This is not to say that I do not
run. In fact I run a few times a
week, either in my beach bootcamp class or along the boardwalk of Mission
Beach. Running for me is a
relative term. I run for exercise,
not often for clarity and I do it out of a sense of duty to myself or my fellow
bootcamp partner. But, given my
choice of activities, I would rather be splashing around in an 80 degree pool
or stretching out in a yoga class.
Having said all that, there is nothing like the sense of accomplishment
one feels when they are able to go just a little bit longer, run just a little
bit further then they did the day before.
Last year I ran my first obstacle course and I proudly finished, not
first but not last. I didn’t
actually care where I finished in the rankings because my whole point for being
there was just to finish. To try
something new and survive to tell the tale. This year I will attempt several other races, some obstacle,
some standard 5k (3 miles) and each, for me, will present their own set of
unique challenges.
I ran the most important one of them all just this week –
the Boston Strong Run/ Walk by De Anza Cove in San Diego. There was no prize for finishing first
or second. That was not the point. The point was to show solidarity with
the people of Boston – to show them that even though we are all the way across
the country – we are all Bostonians at heart. Roughly 1400 people showed up for this run/ walk. It started out as a small Facebook movement
– the brainchild of two women who just wanted to show the people of Boston and
the marathon runners from around the world that we are with them with each
stride we take. What started small
grew bigger, television interviews fanning the flames, friends passing the
message onto other friends, colleagues, and strangers.
When we arrived at De Anza Cove, decked out in our Red Sox
and Boston University apparel, street parking was all that was left and that
was filling up fast. As we jogged
toward the designated meeting place we were surrounded by the colors of Boston
– Red Sox Red, Patriots Blue, Celtics Green and Bruins Yellow – all intermixed
with the familiar blue and yellow of the Boston Marathon runners. Shortly after six the run began – and a
sea of people, all ages, races, sizes, and shapes ran toward us. Mothers running behind strollers with
dogs on leases, friends running together, catching up on their lives, couples
enjoying some quiet time away from the kids, and some lost in their own thoughts
– perhaps contemplating the reason we were all here. The Boston Strong Run/Walk did not have a finish line – you
made it what you wanted. Some,
like us, ran for about 2 miles and then made the turn and walked back amongst
the seemingly endless stream of supporters. Even as we made it back to our car, there were more people
arriving – starting the run an hour later then everyone else – but still
showing up because it was important.
I am not going to tell you that a 2-mile run is an easy one
for me. I had my stops and
restarts. But I made it and that
is the point. I set out to run 2
miles and I did it, I got to my personal finish line, which is more then some
of the marathoners got in Boston.
And that was the point of the Boston Strong Run/Walk. We were finishing the race that they
never got to finish. We finished
for them when they couldn’t. While
not a native Bostonian I have spent enough time there to know that Bostonians
are tough people. They don’t back
down and they don’t give up. One of
my favorite things I saw posted on Facebook about Boston was the following
“Boston is probably the only major city that if you “mess” with them, they will
shut down the whole city…stop everything… and find you.” So this run/walk was not about being
strong for Boston when it was weakened, because it never was weakened, it was
about being strong with Boston – fighting right alongside it.