It's been nine years since the day the sky seemed to be falling. I remember, as I'd just returned from Germany late the night before, and woke up to a horrific spectacle on TV, as most Americans.
My friend Ryan called last night, to confirm travel plans to Hallstadt for next weekend, and mentioned there was a run in the morning. I'd seen it advertised as "The Freedom Run" which sort of bristles me, feeling that we're chasing the wrong terrorists, still, and using propaganda phrases to catch people's attention and fears.
But I was going to run anyway today, so I decided to go. And would aim for under 90 minutes, which I did. Considering I've only run 6 miles lately, it was ok. The crowd was rather small, but I saw a few people who I knew, including a couple of patients and even took care of a little work with one of them.
So The Race.
A filmy, foggy morning, breath-in-the-air type of start, which carried us through about mile eight, before the sun decided to take over. It was perfect.
I delight in being part of these things, even if I am an outsider. I'm Dr. Sara to some of them, and nobody to most. But I can quietly observe and wonder.
I thought it should be a Peace Run. Or at least a Think Run. Or maybe a What Are We Doing Run. In reality these runs are rather meaningless. Our military efforts will not bring back all the people who died, whose families were ripped apart. Instead we are ripping apart more families each year the war goes on.
I can't say I had any revelations from it. I'm still just wishing we could all get along, kind of like the mix of people joining together for the run this morning. If only it could be extrapolated.