What Fills a Void
Hooray, to every single human that ran to help, those with the courage to survive, those with the life force to endure or even just escape despite being challenged by destructive storm of man made evil! Here’s to you!
How do we measure the events of the 2013 Boston Marathon and the inevitable sense of void left by death and destruction? If we viewed this incident that maimed and killed innocent people, from the cold remoteness of a point in outer space, we can only conclude that response of the injured, the survivors, the spectators, the people of Boston, and the visitors in Boston, that the Boston of today is stronger and more proud and determined than ever.
When I heard today that Sweet Caroline by Neil Diamond was played at Yankee stadium in New York in honor of the rivals (yet brothers today) Boston Red Sox who routinely play this song at every baseball game in Boston (despite the fact that Neil Diamond was a New Yorker and a Yankee fan. Facts which seem wasted on Bostonians) I thought to myself, “now you really did it.” You, you creep or creeps, have attacked athletes and their fans. Be aware the word fan comes from fanatic. You attacked runners. One of the most obsessive type of athletes on the planet. And further you attacked marathon runners the most obsessed faction of the obsessed. The marathoner, the runner that runs 26 miles. To run this distance is not possible by physical ability alone. It requires breaking through pain and motivational barriers more than once just to finish the race. Not only do these runners do this, they dream of doing it, and repeating it, and doing it better! No small feat. And the wind that pushes and carries them thru this modern version of self flagellation and penance, are the fans. The running fan and runners are a family. They share the share and seek the nirvana of the trial of the self. They emerge from sort of dark night of the soul to elation. Caballo Blanco is no doubt looking down from the heavens in anger at what he saw.
Awakened is a sleeping Giant, runners, within a sleeping Giant, the USA. No doubt next years Boston Marathon will be the biggest in history. Mark my words! Even Zombies wont be able to stop the horde of runners and supporters that will descend on Boston to demonstrate that nothing will dissuade them from the running way of life and what it means to them as a free people. These are the bikers of the athletic world. And no where else do the words “born free” ever apply more. Free to run and do it their own way. Free to feel the pavement move under their feet in city forest, desert, across mountains, hills, and streams. Free to feel the the wind in their face! Beware anyone that would try to stop this human wave. They might just Forest Gump run and run, and keep running. Run until they have run over the weak minded worm of a human that did this horrific thing. They may just run over the pathetic shanty, or slimy cabin in the woods that housed the thing. The the thing that planned and brewed its psychotic manifesto, in its worthless demented world. Run until they’ve trampled and pulverized it back into the mud hole from which it crawled out of!
Marathoners straight from completing a feat that most are unable to achieve where among the first to jump into action. Offering the shirts off their backs to stem the bleeding of the lacerated. They were among the first to, despite the confusion of dismembered and injured humans bleeding and screaming in the hundreds, stepped forward to assist! Because that is the runner mindset. Keep moving forward!
And so let the groups begin organizing because now we are all runners today. And at the end of this battle, like the first marathoner in history who ran 26 miles to deliver news of the battle before collapsing, we too will say: “Nike!” (Victory!)
In the words of President Obama today referring to the bravery of the first responders and volunteers who ran toward to explosion almost immediately to assist the injured and save lives “So, if you wanna know who we are and how we behave? (You saw it yesterday) That was it!”