杰西卡•香博拉在2008年至2011年期间担任《财富》记者，我和她亦师亦友。目前她在Facebook任市场经理，但对我来说她仍然是一名新闻记者。因此，当杰西卡发短信告诉我她跑完了波士顿马拉松的全程，虽然惊险但安然无恙时，我问她是否愿意分享她在这场悲剧事件中的经历。我们很高兴杰西卡一切安好，并能再次为《财富》撰写文章：

    在等待波士顿马拉松比赛开始时，我和男友正反思我们为什么要跑这些比赛。和其他上千名选手站立在寒风中，唯一的感觉只有不舒服。“好吧，看看跑到最后会是种什么感觉。”我说，“也许到那时我们就会记起为什么要跑。”

    对于周一发生的事情，我不知道还能再多说些什么，我自己和亲朋好友都没有受到伤害。但显然那些遭受伤害以及痛失亲人的人对这件事的感觉远远超出我们余下人能够触及的范围。不过，我可以分享作为一名参赛跑步者的经历。

    对跑步者来说，参加波士顿马拉松比赛是跑步生涯的一大亮点。仅仅有资格参赛就已经是一种成就，例如，我必须在3小时35分钟内跑完26英里385码（约合42公里）才能入围。还有就是，波士顿马拉松是全球最古老的年度马拉松比赛，也是世界六大马拉松之一。我曾经不确定自己能否获得参赛资格，但去年我在洛杉矶以39秒的优势成功入围。

    尽管如此，我也不认为自己已经为参加波士顿马拉松而拼尽全力。那可能是因为我把视线投向了今年晚些时候一场距离更长的跑步比赛，我没有全身心地投入训练，我不确定自己的心思是在这场比赛当中。

    我的男友埃里克随着同龄组选手在上午10时作为第一组出发，我跟随第二组选手在20分钟后开跑。在稍稍热身之后，那天就变成了一个非常适合跑步的日子，我对波士顿马拉松的欣赏之情也开始滋长。我跑得很快，脑中想着西海岸的亲朋好友现在才刚刚开始新的一天，也许其中有几位会查看一下我的比赛进度。

    我在上半程跑得很顺利，但到了18英里的时候，我的臀部和膝盖开始疼痛。为了在最后交出一个好成绩，我不得不尽力跑完最后的8.2英里，并利用意志力和人群的加油声作为自己的动力。在整个比赛过程中，我对观众的友好惊叹不已。接着，我想起自己也曾是观众的一员。这两种角色都带来了极大的满足感，一方向陌生人表达支持，另一方从陌生人那里接受鼓励。

    当我在下午2点跑完全程时，眼中的终点线已经是一片模糊，我的成绩是3小时43分36秒。我们这些参赛选手虽然跑得头晕目眩，但情绪很高，我们在波士顿大街上踉踉跄跄地走着，从人们手中接过水、食物、毛毯和奖牌。

    当我们走近安放随身物品的黄色校车时，听到了“轰”的爆炸声！我们很担心，但并不知道是什么在几个街区外造成两下如此响亮的爆炸声。也许是庆祝时燃放的烟花？接着，我们看到烟冒出来，知道肯定是出事了。

    我跑出比赛区域去寻找埃里克，非常幸运（他没事），因为他本应该在那个爆炸区域等候我，救护车从我们身边驶过去，是什么造成了这一切？

    我们紧紧地握住彼此的手，找到了前来为我们加油的朋友。我们对发生了什么一无所知，也不知道该做什么，在这种情况下，我们走到站台乘着电车回到坎布里奇。埃里克和我都没有带手机，但我们的朋友带了。他们在网上张贴出我们的照片，好让大家知道我们没事。

    等我们回到居住的公寓，Facebook上满是朋友们表达关切的信息。我们很快发布了状态更新，并收到源源不断的支持。

    埃里克和我都为Facebook工作，但直到今天我才充分认识到它的力量。关注我的不仅有身边现实中的朋友，还有上百名网友通过Facebook也在关注我。这些Facebook好友在我们的个人页面发表评论，对我们的状态更新点击“喜爱”，并给我发送信息，因为他们看到我的名字在一群来自门洛帕克的参赛者中间，于是想询问一下我的情况。一位朋友使用Facebook的社交图谱搜索功能搜索“我居住在波士顿的好友”，以此来查询他们的状态。

    回到周一早晨在我脑中盘旋的那个问题：为什么要参加波士顿马拉松？当然，我喜欢成就感，但在爆炸案发生后，现在庆祝这个并不合时宜。

    而真正值得庆祝的，是我收到的支持和关爱，尤其是在比赛被暴力破坏之后，这是我参加这些跑步比赛的另一个原因。跑步训练可能是非常孤独的，人生也可能是一样。

    在比赛那一天，我们走出来，跟彼此以及这个世界分享我们对跑步的热爱，那是一件值得关注的盛事。在周一的事件之后，我比以往更加确信，我们应该以更大的热情继续跑下去。

    那么，下次在起跑线再见。（财富中文网）

    译者：王灿均

    Jessica Shambora was a reporter at Fortune from 2008 until 2011 -- my great protegé and now a lifelong friend. Jess is now a marketing communications manager at Facebook (FB), but she's still a journalist to me. So when she texted me last night to tell me that she had finished the Boston Marathon and was shaken but okay, I asked her if she would share her take on the tragedy. We're very happy to have Jess safe and also writing for us again:

    While waiting for the Boston Marathon to start, my boyfriend and I pondered why we run these races. Standing in the cold with thousands of other runners, our discomfort got the best of us. "Well, let's see how we feel at the end," I said. "Maybe by then we will have remembered."

    It's hard to know what perspective I can add to what happened on Monday. Neither I nor my loved ones were harmed. And clearly those who suffered injury and loss will feel the impact far beyond what the rest of us can comprehend. But I can share my experience as a runner.

    Running Boston is the highlight of many a runner's career. Merely qualifying is an accomplishment. For example, I had to run the 26 miles and 385 yards faster than 3:35 to get in. Then there's the fact that it's the oldest annual marathon in the world, and one of the six World Marathon Majors. I wasn't sure I'd ever get the privilege to run it, but I made the cut last year in Los Angeles, by 39 seconds.

    Still, I don't think I was giving Boston its due. Probably because I've got my eye on a longer race later this year, I hadn't committed fully to the training. I wasn't sure my heart was all in this race.

    After Eric, my boyfriend, went off in the first wave of age-group racers at 10 a.m., I followed in the second wave, 20 minutes behind. Once it warmed up a bit, it was a glorious day -- perfect for running -- and my appreciation of the Boston Marathon began to grow. I moved along at a good clip, thinking about my friends and family who were just starting their day back on the West Coast. Maybe a few would even check in on my progress.

    I made good time during the first half of the race, but by mile 18 the pain had set in to my hips and knees. To post a good finish, I would have to grind out the final 8.2 miles, using willpower and the cheers of the incredible crowds as my fuel. Throughout the race, I kept marveling at the spectators' goodwill. Then I remembered that I'd been in their shoes before. Both roles are incredibly rewarding -- to give and receive support, to and from strangers.

    The finish line was a blur as I cruised across it just after 2 p.m., with a time of 3:43:36. Elated but dazed, we runners stumbled down Boylston Street to pick up water, food, blankets and medals.

    As we runners approached the yellow school buses that held our belongings, we heard the BOOM! We were concerned, but we didn't know what make of the two loud blasts a few blocks away. Maybe it was celebratory fireworks? Then we saw the smoke and knew something was wrong.

    I made my way out of the area and ran into Eric -- lucky because he was supposed to have waited for me in an area that was now inaccessible. Emergency vehicles raced by. What to make of it all?

    We held onto each other tight and found our friends who had come to cheer us on. With little information about what was happening or what to do, we found our way to a T station to head back to Cambridge. Neither Eric nor I had our phones, but our friends did. They posted a photo of us to let everyone know we were okay.

    By the time we got back to the apartment where we were staying, Facebook was filled with messages of concern from our friends. We quickly posted updates and received an outpouring of support.

    Eric and I both work for Facebook. I'm not sure we fully realized its power until today. I was surrounded not just by real friends next to me, but also by hundreds more through Facebook. These Facebook friends posted comments to our profiles, "liked" our status updates and sent me messages because they saw my name among a list of participants from Menlo Park and wanted to check on me. One friend used Facebook's graph search feature to find all "my friends who live in Boston" and account for them.

    I returned to my question from Monday morning: Why run the Boston Marathon? Of course I love the feeling of accomplishment, but now it seems wrong to celebrate in the face of what happened.

    What seems right, though, is to celebrate the support and love that I felt and I saw, especially after the race was marred by the violence. This is another reason why I run these races. Training can be very solitary. So can life.

    On race day we come out and share our love of running with each other and with the world. It's an awesome thing to behold. After Monday, I'm more convinced than ever that we should continue, and with even greater fervor.

    So, see you at the next start line.