Elegy for Boston

I took a long coffee break this morning to watch the later stages of the Boston Marathon.  While television hasn't perfected its coverage of a marathon, the program was amazing in its depiction of the drama possible in sport. I was inspired to take a short run at noon to kind of commune with all the folks running the big race today.

Later, when I heard word of the tragedy, I watched the new images from the scene and saw the world in a whole different, but familiar way.

All of a sudden the evil of the world again dwarfed the drama of sport. Malignant forces exploded from the sidelines of our lives, as they have fallen from the sky or surfaced from below. The awful irony of people dying and suffering "severe trauma" to their legs at a foot race is finally ineffable: three dead and more than a hundred injured, the blood rippling through the lives of so many others.

The Boston tragedy recalls how everything in sport can suddenly become so inconsequential, in the way that in the wake of 9/11 pro football seemed like such a trivial thing.

Long distance running is often seen as a metaphor for life, and today, for me, it resonated as a reminder that despite all we do the finish line is not ours to set.

But, here’s hoping that Boston will find justice, healing and a redemptive race in the year ahead.