I was running.
I was running when they read each count in the Boston Bombing trial today.
I was running on the treadmill so that I could pay attention to the verdict.
Two years ago, I was at work when the bombs went off. Assigned to cover the finish line and med tent just as I had the year before for The Boston Globe.
I stood in a spot it took me a year to see again.
I was working today when the verdict came in, my life forever changed by those blasts.
In the last 2 years I’ve become a marathoner. Lost 80 lbs. Left the newspaper that felt like home, launched a site to empower women in their lives and running, watched my son grow to be smarter than me, and lived away from Boston.
Two years ago, when those blasts went off, all I could think to do was my job. Try to get word back to the paper on what was going on. Write something that helped make sense of a chaotic scene.
Today all I could do was run.
Last year, all I could do was run.
And maybe that’s the most important thing: That we just keep going.