As I am sure most people were doing, I spent much of this
past week trying to make sense of the Boston Marathon Bombings. Acts as horrific as these challenge our
comprehension. That
the bombings occurred at all is jarring to say the least. That they occurred at such a public event is
frightening. For me, as a member of the amateur
running community, the bombings are somewhat personal, specifically because of
who seemed to be the main targets of the attack – the spectators.
I claim membership in the running community based on my
having completed two marathons, nine half-marathons, and several other races of
various distances. I have learned
through my experiences that despite the existence of a “running community,”
that label is something of a misnomer.
Running generally and long-distance running in particular largely are
solitary activities. Amateur runners mostly
set their own personal goals (usually based on past achievements), run at their
own individual paces, hit the wall at different and varied times, and do so
mostly in isolation from each other when in the throes of a race. This becomes most abundantly clear in the
final legs of a long-distance race. What makes the difference at
that point – and where the sense of community fully manifests itself – is the
gathering of spectators along the route.
Marathon spectators are a special lot. Most are there to cheer for family and
friends who are participating in the race.
Others are there out of sheer appreciation of the athletic abilities on
display. At times, however, these lines
blur and people there to cheer family member or close friend invariably applaud
all runners regardless of whom they are or why they run. Ultimately, the spectators perform the most
selfless of acts – they encourage their fellow human beings to do their best to
accomplish the most they can. As such,
even the label “spectator” is a misnomer, as those in the crowd are valuable
and important participants in the race.
The
second marathon I ever completed with the Philadelphia Marathon in November
2004. Several friends turned out to
cheer me through the race. One group in
particular met me at the finish line at the iconic stairs of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Having hit the wall at mile 20,
I was unsure if I could finish the race.
By mile 23, I was questioning why I undertook the endeavor in the first
place. By mile 26, however, I
heard my friends calling my name and cheering for me. I do not think I could have crossed the finsh line had it not been for their encouragement. Some of these friends and I were reminiscing last month
about that day, and my friends happily reminded me how much they enjoyed
themselves at the race and informed me that since then they have become enthusiastic
boosters of their own town’s annual marathon making it a family affair to cheer
on all of the runners.
I myself have
joined the crowd to cheer for a friend or two; one at the finish of a triathlon and another during the 2009 Chicago Marathon. Despite all of the events of the
last week, I hope all of us in the running community continue to cheer each other on.
