A good day to run

Jordan and Jacob cheering for friend Colman

It was a beautiful day for a marathon—sunny and clear and bright, temperature low enough to keep runners comfortable, cold enough to make spectators chilly. We sat on the front porch as the first runners came by. Jordan and I missed the very first one because she had come to the cottage to get me, but I suspect it was the gentleman from Kenya and though I’ve heard no results, I suspect he was the winner. As we explained to Jacob, only a handful run with any hope of winning. Most run against themselves, hoping to beat their time.

But those first few to lead the pack are wonderful to watch. Obviously seasoned, whether professional runners or not, they move with confidence, erect with long strides, art in motion. A few, knowing what weather does to runners, were bare-chested which made me feel cold, and most were lightly dressed. By the end of 26.5 miles, a T-shirt can be a hot burden. We also had fun watching the outfits as well as the runners.

Sooner than I expected came a few walkers—I’m quite sure they didn’t come from the starting line. And then people whose form was less skilled, less practiced. A clue to those who didn’t expect to win or even finish—they were often as bundled against the cold as I was.

Colman's cheering group at Mile 18

Christian reported lots of closed streets and obstacles on his way to take Jacob to Sunday school. That put his morning schedule behind, and we were late to church. Though by shortly before eleven, the flow of runners had slowed. Still policemen were at almost every intersection. We barely made it into the church during the opening hymn and were greeted by a relieved look on Jacob’s face—he’d been saving seats.

Our minister had led a pre-race worship service at the coliseum for the runners, and he talked about that, about the spiritual nature of running, and asked us to pray for the runners. Christian has not been around running culture as Jordan and I have, and he was baffled that Jordan is so interested in the race each year. I think it goes back to her childhood and is strengthened by the fact that both her brothers are runners. For me, as I wrote last night, it is a link to happy memories. And I know just enough to admire the dedication and commitment of the runners.

Tonight, the Oscars. It seems an ironic leap in a way that I don’t know that I can explain. But it’s like polar opposites in our culture—the one a test of yourself and your accomplishments, done with physical strength; the other, an admiration of the accomplishment of others, done with lots of technology and money. I know I sound judgmental, but one seems real to me and the other artificial. Then again, I’m not a movie fan.

The highlight of tonight: salmon with anchovy butter and a tossed salad.

A good day.