We think of this site as our happy place — a quiet corner where we celebrate the small things that make life joyful and keep a record we’ll enjoy revisiting later. That’s why I hesitated to write about the Boston bombings here; the events are so far from anything joyful. Still, I wanted to share last weekend’s race experience because it offered a reminder of the hope, community, and resilience that race days often bring.
Two days before the tragedy in Boston, I ran Richmond City’s 10k. USA Today ranked this event alongside the Boston Marathon itself, and I joined some 40,000 other runners to cover 6.2 miles along our city’s most iconic street. It was my twelfth consecutive year running the race. I had been looking forward to participating and to sharing the day with you here, just as I did last year.
Monday’s events in Boston left me, like so many others, shaken — both personally and as a member of the running community. But I still believe there is value in remembering the good: the camaraderie among runners, the encouragement from strangers, and the quiet satisfaction of completing a challenging course. On race day, you see thousands of people come together, united by effort, support, and celebration — and that unity is worth highlighting now.
My family was a big part of my Richmond race experience. Eight of us were involved that day. My dad has run with me for ten years now (not always side-by-side since he’s considerably faster). My sisters Carrie and Katie joined in — Katie and her husband Martin traveled from New York City to run with us — and my cousin Brenna and her son Tyler came up from Northern Virginia. My twelve-year-old niece Olivia ran her first 10k that morning, and even though we didn’t all start or finish together, the day felt like a true family event.
We also had family cheering from the sidelines. Sherry, my sister Emily, and my mom volunteered — or maybe got a little tricked — into keeping Clara and her three cousins Emanuel, John and Ben entertained while they waited for each of us to pass by. That kind of dedication from supporters makes a huge difference during a long race.
To my surprise, when I approached the cheering spot, all four kids were calmly sitting in their strollers, happily waving cowbells and probably wondering where everyone was going. Their calm energy and noise-makers were exactly the kind of boost runners appreciate on a hot stretch.
There’s a look you get when you’ve run nearly four miles and you suddenly spot your family on the curb — the surge of energy from seeing your spouse and child smiling is real. That moment lifted me and kept me going. (PS: behind me you can see the steady stream of runners approaching the turnaround point on the other side of the street.)
Sherry captured a sweet detail later: Clara had chosen a special outfit to cheer me on — a “Rad Like Dad” shirt and a neon tutu that matched my shirt. She even helped me pick my shirt the night before. Small gestures like that make the day memorable, and you find yourself thinking, maybe someday she’ll run with me.
Overall, the day was meaningful for our family. I’m grateful to everyone who cheered us on — relatives and strangers alike — and to the many volunteers and organizers who make these events possible. Races like this do more than test endurance; they bring communities together, foster friendships, and create shared memories we carry forward.
In light of recent events, I’m holding on to that sense of community and compassion. Tragedies like the bombings in Boston remind us how vulnerable we are, but they also reveal the strength of people coming together. I hope organizers, volunteers, and the running community will continue to offer the same support and solidarity as we all process and heal.
PS: If you’d like ways to help or show support for Boston, many running and community organizations have compiled suggestions and resources to guide donations, volunteer efforts, and other responses.