Boston

Boston’s on the mind. I found a love for running last year as I was trying to shed a few extra pounds. I like to call it baby weight, but let’s be honest; it’s my I-have-a-love-for-food weight. I started running as an outlet since my days were filled with being a “taxi” mom. This stay-at-home mom lifestyle at times made me feel like my life was becoming my children’s. Not that I don’t completely dig my role as mama bear to the cutest cubs ever, but I don’t think that I can do my job as a mom well, if I don’t model for my kids that they should not be consumed with just one facet in life.  I needed to show them (and me) that there is more to life than jumping at their every whim. After my initial, “who finds running fun?” attitude wore off and my body started to adapt to a little physical exertion, I found absolute joy in running. However, my love for running was not as great as my love for runners. There is such a sense of community and support among runners. I loved getting the friendly look of motivated exhaustion on the trail as I would meet the same runner looping around to make her mileage. It made me laugh to get the encouraging, “keep pushing”, from a man who came up from behind me and flew past as if I were standing still. In all honesty, he should have been laughing at my trudging pace, but he encouraged me to keep going. Runners are just down-right good people. Pushing to become their best and pushing others to do the same. Words cannot express the disappointment that a long-standing tradition like the Boston Marathon has been terrorized. My heart goes out to those people.