100 Days sounds like a long time.
More than three months. A whole season. 100 days ago I was not engaged, I was 27 years old instead of a much older sounding 28, and I hadn’t started really thinking about how I wanted to train for Boston. I had all the time in the world. 100 days can change everything.
Today is 100 days until the Boston Marathon. The days following the marathon this year seemed to drag on forever. I would watch the news for hours on end in a seemingly endless tunnel of terrifying images and testimonials from that day. Then came the lock-down and manhunt for the suspects, the subsequent round the clock news coverage of the arrest and backgrounds of the terrorists; and shallow “how’s” and “why’s” about the events. The 32 days from race day to finding out I would run again in 2014 seemed to take forever, so I guess I thought that April 21, 2014 would always remain a distant date in the future.
Now, we are 100 days away. In 100 days I will be standing at the starting line in Hopkinton with 5700 other runners with something to prove. Something to prove to ourselves, our friends and families, and anyone who thought we would not return to claim what was taken from us.
We have 100 days to prepare out bodies and our minds for what we will face on that day. The hills. The spectators. The girls dying to kiss EVERYONE in Wellesley. The crowds who will without a doubt be screaming at the top of their lungs everywhere; but nowhere louder than on Boylston Street as we near the Public Library.
In 100 days, we’ll finish.