We stood at the 16k mark of the marathon. Watching first the lead runners, then the Boston Qualifiers, and then the pack runners who comprise the bulk of any race. Each runner heroic. Each athlete admirable.
They say we are all connected. They say we are all one. That one person’s joy can be felt by another. Empathy. That one person’s anguish is palpable. Sympathy.
We stood at the 16k mark of the marathon and watched one such instance vividly. Painfully. A young man at the apex of his powers. Felled by what I don’t know. It could have been physical. It could have been mental. But while he was still on pace to qualify for Boston, he pulled himself off to the side of the road and cried inconsolably for several long mournful minutes. His dreams evaporated. His training futile.
As we stood and watched, we felt his pain. We felt his heartache.
We are all connected.
Sympathy? Most certainly.
Inspiration? You bet.