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Read More »from Talking to My Kids About Boston
We walked out of MD Anderson and I checked my phone - scrolled through FB and Twitter and gasped, the breath ripped from my body at the horror, the disbelief.
My mind flew back to 2001, a newlywed huddled on the couch watching in horror, as a nightmare leapt to life in full color, complete with sound effects and no alarm to pull us out.
Today, I watched, read, followed and grieved with a different heart and eyes.
Today, I messaged friends that were supposed to be there.. I prayed for the unknown, but I held my breath for friends living in Boston, and friends who traveled to Boston to run the marathon.
Again - a nightmare from which I cannot wake.
I am a runner, well… I'm more jogger than runner, but I try. I get up every day and lace up my shoes, and I hit the pavement.. I lose myself in the rhythm and pace, the beating of my heart, the pulsing of the music, the slap of my feet against the pavement.
A marathon is a