Boston, you’re my home.

I saw this on my way home from work today.

“Boston is where those students like me came of age. It’s where we met our spouses or significant others. It’s where we learned our craft. It’s where we connected with the friends and mentors we would have for the rest of our lives. Even if we can’t say we are “from” Boston we surely confirm when asked that we are “of” Boston. It remains in our blood.”
– Andrew Cohen, You May Leave Boston, But Boston Never Leaves You

“Perhaps it affected me even more than most of the worst stories I deal with for the simple fact that the bombers, whoever they are, hit right at the heart of one of the things that I, as a marathoner, hold most dear in my life, that inchoate jumble of pride, suffering, triumph, exhaustion and exhilaration that comes in the last mile of a marathon.  That place is sacred to me.  It is in that last mile that I have experienced one of the most transformative moments of my life, the moment at which I ceased to see myself as a puddle of a human being, a mess of weakness and flaw, and instead began to regard myself as something much more powerful, as someone who could tackle damn near anything and find a way to come out on top.

Strength, resilience, courage: that’s what the final mile of a marathon means to me.”
– Caitlin of Fit and Feminist, The Spirit of the Marathon Lives On in Boston

“I am a body of fast moving blood
inhaling you
taking you in like a tank.
I will consume your hate.

I will run straight into you
as if you were a finish line of joy,
picking up the fallen along the way
and you will never stop me,
you will never
stop me.”
– Scott Poole, To Run: A Prayer for Boston

“What wearies me is how often I have found myself stunned and silent in recent years. What especially wearies me is having such a finely honed vocabulary for tragedy.”
– Roxane Gay, Stunned Silence

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