Marathon Monday has always been one of my favorite days in Boston. It's been my first Red Sox game of the year for the past five years, it's what I consider the real start of spring and it's just always been this great day where the city comes alive and bands together to support people who have worked so hard and pushed themselves to achieve something so great.
Yesterday, I feel like a piece of that was taken away from us. We live in a world where evil exists unfortunately. Innocent lives were taken by the acts of a malicious few. Over the past 24 hours, I've been trying to find words to articulate how I'm feeling. Hurt, infuriated, depressed, confused, and a slew of other emotions have run through my head in a furious cloud. Being from the northeast, I've seen a lot of things hit close to home in my lifetime. This one by far hit the closest. Someone attacked MY city. While I will never compare what happened in Boston yesterday to other tragic events I've witnessed, it was more personal than I ever thought possible.
I don't want this to be the most memorable marathon Boston will ever see. I don't want to look back in ten years and only recall the fear and horror. Anyone who knows me knows I've always been proud to call Boston my city and that will never change. We're a strong community full of resilient, iron-willed citizens who I know will come out of this stronger than ever.