Running away

I happened to be at Logan Airport today where there were an inordinately large number of very thin people in sweats and running shoes, many of whom were limping. Why? The Boston Marathon, run yesterday under sunny skies, a race we've watched nearly every year for as long as I can remember. The wheelchair competitors always make me cry, none more so than Team Hoyt, the father-son team, with the father, Dick, now 65, pushing his son, Rick, now 45 and with cerebral palsy for the 25th time this year. 26.2 miles, Heartbreak Hill, and people screaming support all along the route. Inspiring.