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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