Yesterday was one of those days.
Much like September 11th, when I first saw the plane crash into that second tower sitting in Mr. Connell's 1st period class my senior year of high school. Or April 27 2011, when I sat in my office and watched a tornado tear through my hometown of Cullman via live weather stream.
April 15, 2013 will be one of those days.
An emotional whirlwind of helplessness, despair, fear and anger.
My family and friends are all thankful I wasn't there.
Of course I wanted to be there.
All marathon runners hope to be there one day.
The Boston Marathon is the holy grail of marathons. For some runners, qualifying for Boston may not ever happen. For others, it's something that they will work hard for their entire running careers and might get lucky enough to barely squeak by with a qualifying time.
It's an incredible longstanding tradition of celebration and victory, and puts the sport on a national pedestal and glorifies it in a giant media spotlight.
Yesterday, at the 117th Boston Marathon, the celebration and victory at the last .2 miles was instead clouded with fire and blood soaked sidewalks.
There were beautiful moments of sportsmanship, like one second after Kara Goucher crossed the finish line and called out for her training partner, asking How'd Shalane do?.... these incredible moments are now tainted by shrapnel and smoke.
The uplifting last mile of the marathon was dedicated to the Sandy Hook Elementary School victims, yet the inspiration that those victim's families felt sitting in a VIP booth at the finish line quickly turned to total chaos.
When tragedies happen, there are so many questions that may never be answered and emotions that can't be fully tapped into.
Running is primal and the purest of sport, and sport cannot be defeated.
Runners know how to deal with pain.
We know how to keep going when the going gets tough, and push ourselves forward with enigmatic strength that only each of us individually knows how to reach from within ourselves.
I know for certain that this too will pass, and that this country and the running community will bound together with relentlessness and come back stronger than ever. We always do.
My main struggle with this entire tragedy right now is that we shouldn't have to.
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.