Who are runners?

Today something terrible happened, unreal. It was the sort of thing that makes a bad plot for a bad Stallone movie, but it was real. Someone bombed the Boston Marathon. People died. I cried.
This really hit home because it was my people. Runners were attacked. Runners were injured and runners died. People from this community, my community. I'm not an elite level athlete. I'm an overweight fat guy who can't seem to motivate himself to get off the couch. Found out today, I'm still a runner.
I haven't talked to my sister in months, she text me today because she knows I'm a marathon runner(yeah right) and feared I was there. I was on the couch. I was in shock. She doesn't know my fitness level, she just knows I'm a runner. And our people were attacked.
Yes I signed up for my third marathon this year and hope to complete my second. I am out of shape and haven't run in almost a year. I ran today. I ran for my fellow runners, the dedicated ones, the warriors. I ran because we can't let fear stop us from living our lives. These monsters attacked my community and because of that I stood up, laced up, and hit the trail. For them, those who died, those who were injured, for my community. What did I discover out there on the trail? That there is where I belong because I am still a runner and it makes me whole. I'm not an elite level athlete but we still are brothers and sisters, we are runners. You are in my prayers.