An important day...

I started the day with a short, 3 mile run in the dark around my neighborhood. Getting up early enough to get a run in before work is tough, but always worth it. As I ran, I thought about the day -- the history of this day. I went through my work day and shared with co-workers our memories of September 11th, seven years ago, and the days that followed. Our world was changed in an instant. Having worked in NYC for a year, I was drawn to Ground Zero and visited the spot about 4 weeks after the attacks. I wrote about that visit in an email to family and friends:
Hi everyone -
When the attacks happened on Sept. 11, I was instantly glued to the tv to see what was happening (as I'm sure many people were). For days I didn't want to turn off the tv. I read the newspapers, I listened to the radio. I couldn't believe the images I saw - the planes crashing, the towers collapsing - incredible. unbelievable. sickening. So I felt compelled to go to NYC and see for myself the history that had taken place. I was there this morning, and seeing the wreckage in person was awesome (and not in the good way).
In midtown, the city smells like the city. The air is as clear as it usually is. Which is why as soon as I stepped out of the subway at city hall downtown, I immediately noticed the smell in the air. The thick, smokey air. We didn't need masks to be able to breathe or anything, but after a while our eyes got irritated, and I was constantly aware of the sickening smell of burning steel, plastic, concrete, and other stuff (it did not at all smell like burning wood). We walked as close as we could to the trade center and followed the masses along the barricades. There are several places where you can get a decent view of the rubble, but several other places have fences covered with tarps so your view is restricted. We saw huge pieces of steel standing, tilted. We saw crumbled concrete and blackened buildings. We saw soot and ash still covering surrounding businesses. We were able to take pictures at most of the spots, but on West Ave (I think) where you get a full view of the collapsed buildings there were several police officers announcing "no pictures please."
Seeing the collapsed buildings was absolutely incredible. I couldn't get over the huge-ness of it all. I was pissed at how many people were selling things - pins, postcards, etc. around the area. I wondered how they thought that was appropriate unless they were donating the money (they didn't appear to be, which is why I was pissed). I was impressed with the sense of "togetherness" I felt with the strangers who stood shoulder to shoulder with me looking in awe at the site.
Then I looked around and saw so many people working at and around the site. I felt compelled to say thank you to several police officers, and when I did, they looked me in the eye, shook my hand, and looked genuinely sincere in thanking me back.
I was overcome with the enormity, the history, the tragedy of it all - and wanted to soak it all in. We stood staring for endless minutes, then we moved again to see what we could from all different points. I wasn't drawn to see it out of a morbid curiosity, but out of a strong sense of history. This was a huge thing to experience in our lifetime, and I had to go. I'm really glad I did.
Seeing the city today, seeing the site where so many people died and where so much rubble still remains was very powerful. I wanted to tell you about it.

I did what I hope many did today. I spent time with my family. I drove to the beach and hugged my parents. I played with my nephews and I had a long talk with a good friend. Oh, and I got an ocean swim done (in a red jellyfish-filled, choppy ocean!). I ran, I worked, I played. I lived today. I am grateful for that.