A marathon

Tim and I have had many excellent adventures during our years together - an Ohio State-Michigan game at the Big House in Ann Arbor, a hot air balloon ride, and travels around the globe. One thing we never would have expected to find ourselves doing is standing along Kelly Drive on a chilly November day cheering on thousands of people we don't even know as they ran in the Philadelphia Marathon. That is just where we found ourselves today, waiting for one runner in particular: our girl, Rachel. Funny thing is, she's never been a runner. When she wasn't swimming long distances, she could always be found with the more physical sports pursuits like water polo, heaving a shot put, or throwing a javelin. But last spring, she decided that she would take up running and followed a plan that would train her for a marathon. Through persistence and long hours running in San Diego and every other city in which she found herself for work (including New Haven), she was ready. She finished in a very respectable 4:37:21, not that her time really mattered. It was the running and finishing that were the point.

What made this marathon day even more special is that it would have been Seth's 26th birthday. Rachel ran 26 miles, one for every year since his birth, even if he only made it to 24. These significant dates and milestones are difficult for us, but today was a day to celebrate Rachel and her life while remembering Seth through her big day and her accomplishment. Such a bittersweet day it was. Our grieving will continue to be a marathon of its own, but for today, we are grateful for a wonderful daughter and are so proud of her.

And what of all those thousands of runners for whom we cheered today? It was such a wonderful experience! Their running bibs had their names in big letters, so we could call them out by name as they went by and encourage them. I was particularly enthusiastic for the runners at and past middle age, marvelling at their courage and fortitude! Many of the runners thanked us as they passed, and many looked like they'd never make it. One guy was carrying a Yeungling to enjoy at the end, one was dressed as a gorilla. There was someone dressed as a can of Spam and a young man in a red dress and red shoes. There were two turkeys and one Wonder Woman. I saw one Yalie and two Oregon Ducks. Mostly, the runners looked like plain old people from all walks of life who, for whatever reason, somehow set on a goal of running a marathon. To us, it didn't matter who they were or what they looked like. This was a very egalitarian event - we cheered for everyone: fast, slow, tall, short, thin and not-so-thin, a host of ethnicities, constumed or not. For all of our excellent adventures, I've decided that I think the world would be a better place if everyone had a marathon experience, running or spectating.