The finish line

I started this post last night with a conversation. As I watched the 2012 Boston Marathon finish on NBC sports I got teared up, and the following conversation ensued.

Me: I miss it.
Mr. Miller: What?
Me: That feeling. At the finish.
Mr. Miller: What do you mean? 
Me: That feeling of it all ending, all of the work, all of the pressure, all of the hopes and dreams. There. With a mark in the road.
Mr. Miller: Oh. Okay. Love you.
Me: Love you too.

I planned a post on the finish line. I followed amazing tweets today. I got amped up by the Boston Marathon.  As I left work today, I was greeted by numerous texts and tweets of devastation. All that remains? My initial note that I wrote last night: 

A finish line is a sacred place. It's where blood sweat and tears culminate into the completion of a great task. 

The Finish Line.

THE place for which we strive. 

The place where IT happened. 

Sadly, today's finish line was tainted. Prayers go out to all in Boston.

We are: Runners.

We run the streets. 

We run this world.

We pray for our comrades and our cheerleaders.

*Wear a race shirt or blue and yellow on 4/16/13 to represent our friends in Boston who ran the toughest race on earth.