my heart belongs to Boston
From my very earliest memories – listening to Red Sox games on the radio – I’ve loved Boston. Trips to the Aquarium and the Science Museum, Celtics and Bruins games at the Garden, shopping in Quincy Market, riding the T, and of course, going to Fenway have just solidified how much I love it. I may not have a house in the city proper yet, but when someone asks where I’m from, I rarely mention the suburb I sleep in, I just say near Boston. Because, you know, it’s BOSTON.
I don’t really have the words to express how I feel about what happened at the Marathon because oh children…but I do know that Boston is strong and resilient, and well, pretty bad-ass. As horrifying as the event itself is, the response from everyone, everywhere, the outpouring of love and support for the runners and their loved ones, is equally extraordinary.
When I finished my little 2 mile running route early this morning I thought, okay now turn around and do that 13 more times. Yeah. That’s what marathon runners do. I have so much respect and awe for runners and the families that support their racing. Especially the ones who run the Boston Marathon with it’s crazy hills and even crazier residents lining the streets.
No matter how much someone out there wants us all to fear the city, they won’t win. I know that nothing is ever going to stop me from going to Boston, to sports events, out to dinner, to the museums, and maybe even to watch the next Boston Marathon. Maybe especially to watch the next Boston Marathon.
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