Monday, April 15, 2013


There's nothing to say.

We watched the race at work, following the elites in the live streaming, and then tuned out. Then Doug said, "There have been explosions at the finish line" -- and the day went all pear shaped. I watched way too much coverage online, getting more and more upset about it. One image, that I saw repeated, was of an older gentleman running only a few yards from the finish, when the bomb went off and it knocked him off his feet. I was really worried about him -- I mean, it wasn't clear what had happened, but he just dropped.

But, wonderful news -- his name is Bill Iffrig, he is from Lake Stevens, and he is fine. Shaken, of course, but fine. Oh, and did I mention he's SEVENTY-EIGHT years old, and he was running a 4-hour marathon. BAD ASS.

My thoughts go out to all the runners, the spectators, and their families. My heart goes out to all of the first responders. I also can't help but feeling bad for the folks who were prevented from finishing their race. I can't imagine what that must feel like.

Tomorrow I was going to swim, but I think I'll run instead.

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