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Showing posts from April, 2014

Boston Strong

            Just 100 yards to the finish line, and I couldn’t help but smile. My quads ached, and if I hadn’t consciously thought about each footfall, my knees likely would have buckled. I tried to speed up, just to reflect the enthusiasm of the crowd. Yet my legs refused to respond. It felt peculiar to let my body give out before my lungs. With the finish line within sight, my pain simply didn’t matter.             I could share my data—my average heart rate, my paces per mile, my average pace, my time—but for such an event as this one, it seems trite. This 118 th Boston Marathon marked the success of a city, a country, and a community of runners. Banded together in blue and yellow, we invaded the city of Boston. Its denizens embraced us. Daffodils lined the streets, filled the planters, and decorated the counters of local businesses. This city lacked nothing in the way of determination.             Bryan and I arrived Thursday to a cold, blustery city. Just two days prior

Sky blue. Daffodil yellow.

On this Easter Sunday in Boston, I wanted to spend the morning celebrating the resurrection of Jesus in a way I'd never had the opportunity to do before. I awoke to a sky filled with blue and sunshine peaking through the buildings. After one final tune up run to shake out the legs and keep my muscles aquiver, Bryan and me cleaned up, ate breakfast, and headed toward the New Old South Church on Boylston Street. Upon reaching the front doors 35 minutes before the 11 o'clock service, we became more and more disheartened by our chances to even get into the building itself thanks to the long line that spanned the face of the church, wrapped around the corner lining Dartmouth St, and further spanned the building's back face along Newbury St. We took our place in line, and with each minute we waited, the more I realized how much I wanted to attend this service.  The line began to move, but its slow pace gave me every reason to believe they'd close the doors  at