Toes, Terror, and Tears
Posted on March 23rd, 2011
So for the last few days, I have been undecided whether I should run the Jerusalem Marathon. Various things have come up that have made my training almost minimal over the last month. One problem was my toes. Too much running have taken their toll. I have had all sorts of nasty complications. I had work done on them but since they still didn’t look right, I took a picture today and e-mailed toe shots to my podiatrist and another friend who is a doctor in the Jerusalem area. We had an e-mail discussion and he said that it looked o.k. for me to run. The podiatrist promised to fix them up after the marathon if I damaged them again.
So while I had not decided whether I would in fact run, I figured I should head over the the convention center and pick up my entry materials — just in case I chose to do it.
Then the bomb went off.
Suddenly, my toe problems seem really dumb.
A number of friends were inside the hall and heard the explosion. In fact, the course goes right by where the bomb went off. As they were picking up their race numbers and T-shirts, the glass windows shattered.
Since I could no longer go to the hall, I drove home. All the while I was trying to follow the news and process my feelings.
Of course there is anger at the coward who planted the bomb and snuck away. And there is sadness over those who were hurt because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But you know what really pisses me off?
My daughter is scared and I can’t do anything about it.
Between the Itamar attack and today’s bombing, she is scared and asks why does this stuff keep happening?
And my answers and attempts to reassure her sound so lame.
Terrorists do not scare me. I will proudly run the marathon and smile as we run through parts of the city liberated in 1967. I don’t care what my time will be. We must show the terrorists that there is NOTHING they can do that will make us change our way of life. If people back out of the marathon now for any reason, the bad guys will think they have won a small victory.
I will actually sleep fine tonight, and I hope the Hamasniks spend the night in some Gaza hole wondering if the sound of the drone above them will be the last thing they ever hear.
But you know, we can thump our chests and express our platitudes that the terrorists don’t scare us.
The fact is they DO scare our kids.
Children should not have to shed tears in their beds because they are worried about terrorism.
And don’t tell me about Palestinian kids scared of the IDF. If their parents stood up to the terrorists who use them as human shields, their kids would have nothing to be scared about? Not realistic? In an age where Arabs throughout the Middle East are standing up and risking their lives against the forces of terror, the Gazans do nothing. They wait for their children to die and then wail for the cameras about Israeli terror. Sorry, I’m not buying.
You made my daughter cry you bastards. And there is nothing you could do to piss me off more.
You planted a bomb where my friends were.
If your culture really believes that stabbing babies and killing old ladies on buses are heroic acts, then you deserve everything that is coming at you.
On Friday, several thousand runners will run right by where the bomb went off. And we will say a silent prayer that there will be no more need for children’s tears in the holy land of Israel
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