Marathons are inspiring. Many people go to them, see the people of all ages and shapes out there doing it, and determine to run one. I can understand that. I remember watching my first marathon as a new runner in 1999, wondering whether I could do that. The process of discovery began soon thereafter. Today, nine years and 13 marathons later, I went up to Harlem to watch the New York City Marathon. It is great spot because the crowds are thinner and mile 22 is where I think the real stuff starts. George Sheehan once wrote about this point of the race as where "the miles beyond will challenge everything he holds dear, his value system, his lifestyle. They will ask nothing less than his view of the universe." This is where I go, after the elites have long since passed, to appreciate how awesome it is to see people doing something individually extraordinary. I clap and look at the faces, twisted in determination (and sometimes resignationan), knowing they have their own stories. And it is inspiring. It makes me ready to set out on my own in three weeks to see what I have, where I can go and what will come of it.
5.75 miles, 43:53