On April 20th the Massachusetts wind raced among 27 thousand chilled Boston Marathoners. While the runners coveted last year’s prime conditions, and warmed themselves at the 1927 account of shoe-melting heat, the medical staff went out to meet the hypothermic participants.

The actively helpful people, not the weather, make the Boston Marathon special.

Runner’s World website reported that the Boston Marathon’s "reputation for harsh weather is mostly carried by anecdotal exceptions to the rule." Average temperatures during the event often vary the same or less than other major U.S. marathons.

Average or not, Common Health website claims the medical staff this year helped warm 1,310 runners and transported 36 to hospitals for temperature-related issues.

Help started with members of the medical team seeking, rather than waiting to receive, the shivering athletes; but this care transcends the medical tent.

Two photos from the wreckage of the 2013 bombings reveal this active selflessness.

In the first, the cameraman shoots from behind runners, focusing on the glowing blast of smoke and sparks at the intersection 100 feet ahead. The explosion occupies space among the spectators, like a veiled vendor on the corner.

The runners, though shocked, do not stop. They keep running toward the danger, more importantly toward the victims. The shock wave acts more like a magnetic attraction than a repellant force. Something draws them.

Sure, people find it difficult to turn from catastrophe, but does that explain why every person in the photo moves toward the blast? Why has no one even begun to turn and flee? Where is the panicked stampede?

The second, more graphic, picture focuses on a man’s lower legs. He has no feet, no flesh up to the knee. He is a spectator in a gray shirt, gray shorts, and the matching skin of a body in shock. Yet he is alive.

Most striking is not the horror of the man’s situation, but the care of those around him. With no gurney or ambulance to spare, someone has found a wheelchair in which to race the gray man to medical attention. Three people completely consumed with helping this man include: a woman in a pink hat running as she pushes his wheelchair, a man in a cowboy hat guarding and comforting as he keeps pace, and a man carrying a helmet guides and clears the way. This photo depicts a care the gray man cannot return, a collaborative selflessness rallied around rescuing him.

While individuals win the race in their respective categories with solitary feats, and while people participate for their own goals and personal records, the Boston Marathon creates a cohesive team out of its attendees.

A team rejoices in the accomplishment of its strongest, and encourages to improvement its weakest. Members sacrifice for one another, and grow stronger when together. Where there have been losses in the past, hope and determination persist. Such is the behavior of those at the Boston Marathon.

Not only does the event thrive even after being blown up, but it also brings people whose care extends from offering a blanket, to rushing a mangled man to safety. The Boston Marathon hosts heroes.