Three Months


I remember studying for finals on April 15th and being so happy the sun was out and the weather was finally losing its bitter nip. The stress of the upcoming exams were fueling me just as much as the impending relief of sunshine and free-time. What happened later that day made studying for tests seem inconsequential. I couldn’t shut everything out and keep reading like a lot of my classmates could that week. I wasn’t even glued to the TV like most people, either. I was just in a state of partial confusion and disbelief, and partial sadness and empathy, and partial fear. I tend to have a lot of anxiety– something I try to meditate or run out of myself daily. In the week after the bombing, I stepped off the T a number of times whilst en route to a particular destination, trying to regroup myself, because I was convinced a fellow rider was going to do something violent. The reason why I am saying this is because when I have heard people say something along the lines of “The bombing was not a big deal– not that many people died,” I am so puzzled why a community in fear of its own members isn’t the scariest hell someone could imagine.

But, for me, something amazing came out of that day.


Running has made me feel good about the world around me, simply put. I haven’t been great about blogging, but that is okay. The running is what matters most. I constantly find new things I want to explore. Hills, times, distances, locations, compete against myself, compete against a friend, try a road race, keep going, add another side street, do it before work, go.

I have found new places I love to run. (Jamaica Pond)


And I’ve noticed how beautiful the “same old” places are with every run.





On the 4th of July I was lucky enough to see the fireworks over the Charles from one of the best spots in the city of Boston. Standing on a deck high above the river, I could see extra security precautions that were taken below. Military, helicopters, street closings, a whole part of the city completely shut down, just in case. How lucky we are to have servicemen and organizations who will protect us and can’t be bought by the bad guys. How awful it is that we need to have them out on Independence Day just in case. But as night fell, and fireworks lit up the sky gratitude won over criticism and all I could think of is how much I love this city and Massachusetts.


I can’t wait to get out there again and run stronger, for myself and for Boston.