It's been a couple of weeks since I ran the Rock n Roll Half Marathon. People ask me, "So, how was the marathon?" Where do I begin?! It's easy to just sum it all up and say, "It sucked and it was awesome." I asked Dr. Johnson how he felt when he finished the 26.2 miles and he said, "I feel terrible." Yes, I do indeed know exactly how you feel. Dr. J is running another marathon this weekend in SF, and I am eager to sign up for my third. The torture we seek.
I'm addicted. The commotion, the energy, the start line...the finish line. It's an amazing feeling of accomplishment all wrapped up in a 2 hr box with a bow.
But wait, it's so much more.
The spectators at the Rock n Roll rocked my world. There were 30,000+ runners and 100,000 spectators. I remembered when I was one of them. I was addicted then. Thousands of people cheering strangers on and holding up signs that read, "I'm proud of you stranger."
For a moment it revived my faith in humanity. A dozen Marilyn Monroes were lined up in the street giving us high 5's. Old people, children, black, white, gay and straight lined the sidewalks. Neighbors had donuts and coffee for whomever wanted them, and store owners stood on their stoop passing out snacks and gels. The volunteers, the police and fire fighters, and the hopeful dad that stood high above us at the start line on a lift...holding his baby suffering from Leukemia. Thousands of people held their hands up, lifting their Boston bracelets to the sky. Harmony at its finest.
I passed the mile 12 marker and was eager to see Chris and Dylan near the finish line. I begged the heavens for Market street. I saw Dylan and Chris waving and shouting "Hi mama!" Strangers next to them also cheered me on. Emotional doesn't quite cut it. Overwhelmed more like it.
I crossed the finish line, grabbed any and every food and beverage I could get my hands on and smiled. All by myself in the crowd, I smiled BIG.