My daughter is a runner. My sister is a runner. Many of my friends are runners. I occasionally go out for a jog, but I am not a runner.

My heart is heavy for runners today. My heart is heavy for American’s today. My heart is heavy for Bostonians today. It’s a sucker punch in the gut. I had to finally turn the TV off because I couldn’t watch anymore of the coverage.

I read posts in my facebook feed and I cry a little. I read tweets on my twitter feed and I cry a little more. I’ve seen three runners go past my window as I sit in front of my computer and I cry a little more. And I don’t even know why.

I don’t live in Boston. I live in podunk middle America where nothing bad ever happens. I feel safe where I live. I feel as though nothing can ever harm me. I feel guilty. Because I am safe and so many others aren’t. My city isn’t under a heightened security alert like New York and DC and Los Angeles and San Francisco. My city’s biggest issue is trying to figure out when or if the river will hit flood stage.

My sister in law ran the Boston Marathon ten years ago. She’s heartbroken. She has a reason to cry. I have no memory that ties me forever to this event.

I sit in my safe little house, making my boring little dinner, far away from the tragedy of today and I’m so incredibly sad.

My prayers are going out to those directly impacted by today’s events. My prayers are going out to those indirectly impacted. My prayers even go out to people like me who are not impacted at all, yet still saddened beyond belief by today’s events.

And now…a shot of Jameson!

Peace and love to all of you.

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