Running Scared?

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We can put metal detectors inside stadiums.  We can put security guards inside schools.  We can put security screening inside airports.  But we cannot run a marathon without feeling vulnerable.  Not after yesterday.  Not after the carnage, the panic, the awfulness, the violence, the terror, the evil that happened in Boston.

I ran the Boston Marathon in 2003…

Race Last Name, First Name
(Sex/Age)		 Time OverAll
Place		 Sex Place
/
Div Place		 DIV Net Time City, State, Country
Boston Marathon
4/21/03		 Swelin, Ashley J. (F23) 3:45:56 6251 1124 / 889 FOpen 3:38:40 Toronto, ON, Canada

It’s been ten years since I high-fived the students cheering at Wellesley College, willed myself up Heartbreak Hill, and cried tears of pride and joy along the finishing stretch on Boylston Street.

I originally wrote today’s blog post last week, and titled it ‘Boston’- I was going to share with you all of the things that running Boston taught me.  Silly things, like how sunburned you can get over the course of 26.2 miles in Boston in April.  Inspiring things, like “you cannot run fast if you do not put in the training.  The same goes for anything in life.  Work hard”.  Special things, like how your parents will do anything for you- even come to Boston and stand five-people-deep for four hours for the chance to watch you cross the finish line. It’s been ten years since my parents stood right where yesterday’s second bomb went off.  

But you know what, fellow runners?  We must unite.  We must be strong.  We must not be scared to go to a movie, or send our kids to school and ourselves to work, or go to Boston and run a marathon. I can’t make sense of this tragedy because it’s senseless.  I can’t explain this tragedy because it’s inexplicable.  I can’t imagine this tragedy because it’s unimaginable.  But when these senseless, inexplicable, unimaginable tragedies happen, we must cope.

And the way most runners cope is to run.  We cope and we run and we run and we cope… and the miles tick by.

I’m going for a run.

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Happy Anniversary to my Blog!

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I started this blog as a way to reach out and share my experiences, to allow my patients and my readers to get to know me better, and to write about my ‘adventures of health, fitness, and parenthood’.  But it’s morphed into more than that- it’s become my creative outlet, my diary, and my memory bank all rolled into one.  This week marks the one-year anniversary of www.drworobec.com.  And what a year it’s been.

It’s been a year of ups (I Hope You Always) and downs (Farewell, Our Loyal Friend), trials (Memories for Sale) and tribulations (I am a Transplant. And it’s Christmastime), criticism (Yes, I Paint my Son’s Fingernails) and praise (The Art of Humility).

From my first post (Lance Armstrong and Me: the Online Experience) to my favorite post (10 Lessons that Dads WILL Teach their Daughters), I have enjoyed sitting down every week and pouring my feelings onto the computer screen.  I hope you feel that realness conveyed in my words.

I’ve written a lot about nutrition (Food for Thought), Crossfit (This Thing Called ‘The Open’), and running (21.1Kms of Friendship).

I’ve written a lot about my children (My 6-month-old Loves Chicken), my parenting style (‘It’s Not Babysitting, It’s Parenting), and the mundane goings-on of my everyday life (Sunday at 3:00).

I’ve written a lot about chiropractic (I am a Chiropractor), my patients (I Want to Thank You), and my views on health (“I Don’t Have Time to Exercise”).

I’ve been overwhelmed by the response to some (Wear the Dress Socks), and surprised by the lack of response to others (Dear NHL).

I’ve cried hard (Break the Silence), I’ve smiled hard (It’s More than a Piano), and I’ve thought hard (Cancer is a Powerful Word).

I’ve had a good year.

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Sunday at 3:00

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We had a wonderful Easter weekend- it was full of Spring sunshine, Easter egg hunts, and family gatherings.  But the best part was Sunday at 3:00.

We live in a neighborhood full of young families- there are more strollers than cars, more baby bottles than beer bottles, and more schools than stores.  It is a great place to raise our children, and that’s been reaffirmed many times  since we bought our house nearly two years ago.  What I didn’t count on though, was the seemingly simple moments that make the largest impact and create the biggest impressions on my children.

As we pulled both kids in the wagon around the neighborhood on Saturday morning, we noticed hand-made signs taped to the lightposts, announcing a ‘Free Bike Wash’, to take place on Sunday afternoon.  The childish penmanship was neat and carefully written, and promised to ‘make your bike shine’.  My 4-year-old son’s face lit up immediately.

Him: “You mean they’ll wash my bike?”

Me: “Yes.  The address is listed on the sign.  We can ride over tomorrow afternoon.”

Him: “How do they know how to wash bikes?  Who will be washing the bikes?  What will they use to wash the bikes?”

His curiosity and wonder was all-encompassing.  Imagine: a neighborhood event, just for kids, organized by other kids.  For him, it seemed too good to be true.

We walked over to the address listed on the signs, and talked to the 9-year-old boy who lives across the street from us.  My shy little guy proudly announced that he would be bringing his bike to the Bike Wash at 3:00 tomorrow.  As we went inside, our doorbell rang.  It was the bike-washers bringing an appointment reminder note for Drew.  Sunday 3:00.  We hung the reminder on our fridge door.  Then we hosted Easter dinner.  We went to church.  We did all sorts of wonderful family things while Sunday at 3:00 hung in the distance.

And when Sunday at 3:00 finally rolled around, as slowly as time passes in a 4-year-old’s world, it was raining.   The Bike Wash went ahead anyways, and an impressionable little boy made new friends, felt a sense of community, learned the value of helping others, and had fun.  All on Sunday at 3:00.

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