We had a hard week, Boston peeps. I don't really need to put it all into words -- we shared this tragedy together -- and others have written about it more eloquently than I can. My emotions were up and down all week, and when I texted a friend to say I couldn't stop crying because some cranky older man went nutty outside our vets' office and kicked Rigby, she knew I wasn't crying about the dog. (Yes, Rigby was fine. He's such a big dope.)
I know we'll pull through this. We grow tenacity and resilience here in New England. We don't cower in a crisis, but stay strong and courageous, with care, compassion, and pride. That strength was tested this week, but not broken. I know this because on Thursday, before any suspects had been identified, my son expressed his unwavering faith that those guilty would be caught and punished. (Actually, he said they would be caught and "taken care of". His idea of justice may differ from mine.) He told me he wanted to go to the marathon next year and show whoever did this that we're still standing. ("Boston Strong, Mom.")
I managed to get in my ride workouts Friday and over the weekend for a 78 mile week. Sometimes, the best way to clear your head is to just ride.