True Confession: Since 2:50 p.m. Monday the “What Ifs” have been haunting me.
What if I had run just 13 minutes slower, putting me at the finish line when the bombs went off? What if I had actually seen my mom at mile 16, instead of missing her completely. Would I have stopped to take photos and chat for long enough that it would have impacted my finish time and put me in harm’s way? What if I hadn’t seen my parents just after crossing the finish line, so they would have kept walking to find me (putting them on Boylston right between bombs #1 and #2)? What if Scott had decided to keep watching the race after I crossed, instead of going directly to the family meet up area (He was standing on Boylston at mile 26, directly across from where bomb #2 went off. I had told him it would take me a good 30 minutes to get through the finishers chute and to the meet up area)?
I am not a pessimistic person. I know it doesn’t do any good to dwell on the What Ifs, because they didn’t happen. And I haven’t been sitting here dwelling on them in a bad, foreboding way. To the contrary, as I’ve been thinking about these What Ifs, I’ve been thinking how lucky I am. And they have been making me that much more thankful for all that I have – for having people in my life that love me, for loving people, for the air I’m able to breathe and for the steps I’m able to take.
I am really, truly so thankful and appreciative for all that is mine.