By now, you’ve surely seen the images from the bombing that occurred in Boston on Monday. The blood-covered streets. The frantic police officers. The man in tattered clothes on page one of this newspaper. These photos are horrifying and paint a picture of a tragedy that never should have happened.
Naturally, our thoughts and prayers go out to the victims. The Boston Globe reported victims as young as 2 years old. There were people who lost limbs, and three perished.
Plenty will be written about those who died, those who were injured and their parents. But the survivors — clearly the more fortunate group — also have a tough road ahead. It’s difficult to cope with life after being injured or watching a loved one pass away during a terrible event like Monday’s, but how does one who escapes unscathed justify his or her fortune?
The concept that this was a race can’t be ignored. As of publishing, more than 140 people were confirmed injured and three were dead, but thousands of others — hundreds of them being racers — had no wounds to show from the explosion. The reason? They ran just fast or just slow enough to avoid disaster.
In its wonderful coverage of the incident, the Globe spoke to many racers who were near the finish line after the bomb detonated. Some were just a half-mile away from one of life’s great physical accomplishments.
Imagine you’re one of the runners who was just shy of the finish line. Perhaps you’re upset that you’re a little behind the pace you were shooting for, and then you hear an explosion. If you’ve hit the wall, was there a reason behind it? If you simply slacked off, was that a reason to be spared in such an incident?
Similar questions must have been running through the heads of those who finished just prior to the explosion. Racers who finished more quickly than expected were left to face the gravity of what could have happened had they finished just minutes or seconds slower.
I’m not a believer in fate. The racers’ start times were predetermined and an unknown amount of factors affected their race times. If I were at the Boston Marathon, I wouldn’t be going through the why-me or why-not-me thought process.
But I wasn’t there. I can’t imagine the emotions if you finished a race right as a bomb exploded, possibly wounding or killing family and friends who came to watch you finish a grueling race.
What if you had pushed yourself to the max? Normally, accomplishing personal-best results in nothing but pride. On Monday, it could have resulted in the death or injury of friends, family or yourself.
I hope those involved can return to the pavement unaffected, but I worry that won’t be the case. For many, running is a form of escape. The stresses of everyday life melt away when the heart starts pumping and the endorphins produce the runner’s high. These feelings make runners addicted to the sport, but those in the Boston Marathon on Monday will now have terrible associations attached to the runner’s high.
What transpired in Boston was a horrible circumstance, and our thoughts and prayers should go out not only to those injured or killed in the explosion, but to those who left without a scratch as well.