In Memory of the Marathons

I will say one thing for the media. They sure do saturation well.
The world is suddenly blanketed in coverage about the Boston marathon tragedy. As well it should be. This violence is so bad on so many levels, it’s hard to think about anything else. Facebook Updates that read, “I love Trader Joes Peanut Butter!” seem clanky and tone death amidst the backdrop of tearful symphony.
Since the bombings, I’ve been able to think about–or hear about–little else. My mind keeps flashing through those images of runners down, spectators running for their lives, and the frantic, bloody crowds. These same images are on every TV I pass and every browser I click open. I feel both over saturated with the news and hungry for more.
Mostly, I feel helpless.
Whereas September 11 hit me hard as an American, and the Newton shootings hit me hard as a Mom, these pictures hit me hard as a marathon lover. To be clear, a marathon spectator.
Because, truly, there’s nothing quite like watching a marathon. There is such a camaraderie among the thousands who brave the cold to witness their loved ones crossing the finish line. Such a raw vulnerability among the crowd, who is crazy-silly-punchy excited to see their runner pass.
The whole experience of seeing men and women all ages, shapes, and sizes run toward their goal bonds the crowd very quickly. All the spectators seem to feel it. As we hug and high-five strangers, we are all inspired; we’re all saying, “THIS restores our faith in humankind!”
How will what happened in Boston change this about marathons?
Will spectators stop showing up, like marathon winner, Lelisa Desisa, feared? After all, the finish line scene at any marathon suddenly seems too vulnerable. Does the distracted crowd, packed into a small space make for the perfect crime scene? 
Will runners think twice before competing in the next marathon? Does this violence tarnish the wholesome reputation of running a marathon? Will runners sit out, not because they’re afraid of chafing of tearing an ACL, but because of bigger fears?
I don’t think so. 
Because there’s a lot we can learn from marathon runners.
They are worthy of praise because they don’t give up. These runners inspire the crowds because their perseverance seems to supersede rational thoughts and fears.
You know what else marathon runners can teach us?
When in doubt, when afraid, and before you begin: pray.
That’s right. They pray. The whole group of runners prays before the start of the marathon.
The cold, dark, pre-dawn minutes before a marathon begins is a extraordinary time. The runners gather in silence around the start. It’s surreal to see the potential energy of a group of superior athletes huddled in such a small space, about to complete such an awesome task. 
They take off their hats for the Star Spangled Banner. They bow their heads for the mass prayer, where a pastor asks God to bless the group of runners.
Let’s take that lesson from the marathon competitors. Forget about the “my thoughts are with you, Boston.” What good are your thoughts?
Let’s pray. Let’s ask God to comfort the families who have lost a loved one. Let’s ask Him for peace. Let’s praise Him for the good He will bring from evil.
Let’s ask Him to double the marathon crowds and runners in Boston next year.
Let’s ask Him to restore our faith in humankind.