The Saturday following 9/11 found me polishing my kitchen cabinets the way a ravenous lion devours a zebra. I cleaned the blinds and laundered the curtains in the family room too.
Last Monday afternoon, I was at work when Drudge Report started tap dancing on my phone. He did several encores before I turned my attention to it.
Thus began another dull, slow burn of trying to grasp the potential in the human spirit for evil. I shied away from the news.
Tuesday morning I sat in front of a television screen and let the tears come; my broken heart was already in Boston anyway. I changed my Facebook cover to the Boston skyline, a pretty pitiful offering, but all I could figure to do.
On Thursday, I donned my sneakers and grabbed my daughter, and we ran 3 miles. I broke two personal records according to my Nike Plus ap, and my hip flexors are still sore this morning. But it was worth it. I ran for Boston, every marathoner
This is how love wins.