I’ve only been there once, but I feel a deep connection to the place. The bombs went off 20 feet to the left of where I stood to take this picture. I took it at 4:12 in the morning 3 years ago as I started my 26 mile run along the marathon course in reverse to the town of Hopkinton. I made it to the start line in time to take my place with the other runners and run the race back to downtown Boston. Making that final turn onto Boylston Street is something I will never forget. Damned if I wasn’t floating on air. The noise of the crowd lining the street was amplified by the confined space amongst the tall buildings and the feeling was epic. Completely without warning, I found myself choking back a huge lump in my throat as I approached the finish. Sounds dramatic, but it was. I never dreamed someone like me could actually run the Boston marathon, yet there I was. 52 miles and finishing strong. I really wish I was there today, but I’m really glad I wasn’t. Be strong, Boston. Don’t let the bastid’s win.