I told myself about two months ago I was going to write a blog post every weekday, no matter what. And I’ve stuck with it.
I don’t want to write today. I have no interest in writing about tech or HCI or Bitcoin, all of which feels very trivial in light of the attacks on the Marathon yesterday.
So I’m writing because not writing feels even more wrong.
I grew up in Wellesley, the half way point of the race, often referred to as a deafeningly loud tunnel of cheer lining Rt 16 thanks to enthusiastic Wellesley College women. I attended the marathon pretty much every year from ages 8 -14. I was in awe of those runners… Most people in the endless tide of marathoners looked like my teachers at school or my neighbors (some were). And they were all doing something I thought impossible, super-human. It was awesome. The best part was extending cups of water out into the street and feeling the forceful pull of a runner whip it out of your hand with a splashy jerk. It was milliseconds… And yet I see it now quite well.
So to associate that memory now with senseless bombings, violence against runners and fans, graphic 24-hour news camera images, endless speculation, and all the other crap from yesterday… It’s just terrible. (I labored over that choice of adjective for awhile. It isn’t the right one, but I don’t think there is a good one for how I associate these two events).
I’m pretty certain that everyone in my close network in Boston (or running the race) is safe and well.
My heart breaks for the victims and their families.
I’d like to do something. I don’t know what. Im thinking ill give blood later in the week, as hospitals have requested donors come in later to help restore supplies. Bijan’s declared he’s running next year and that’s a pretty great idea. I’d love to make the same promise too, but I hesitate because of access: knowing America, next year’s Boston Marathon will be so popular that they’ll have to run the race for three days straight to accommodate all the interest.