Sunday, November 3, 2013

Time Slipping Through Our Hands

When we ran
When we ran
When we ran
Was it just the time slippin' right through our hands?
-John Hiatt

Today is the New York City Marathon.  Last year's event was cancelled over the protests of both Mayor Bloomberg and the New York Road Runners Club, which ultimately acceded to the cries of the general public who thought it might be a wasteful expenditure of resources, both human and otherwise, to have them dedicated to the Marathon as opposed to those New Yorkers who had just had their balls kicked up into the roofs of their mouths by Hurricane Sandy.  

Lost I think in the ham-handed way in which Hizzoner and the people who run the NYRR Club responded to the requests that the Marathon be cancelled was what a number of runners who had intended to run the race last November ended up doing on Marathon Sunday.  Upwards of 1,300 runners gathered on Staten Island anyway and ran supplies to various parts of that borough, helping people they did not know in a time when those strangers were at their lowest.  They even helped remove debris from homes.

This morning, the Marathon shall be run without Mother Nature interrupting the proceedings - although she has served up one really, really cold November morning for this year's party.  This year's race will be run against the backdrop of not only the effect that something natural had on last year's edition but the effect that something unnatural had on this April's Boston Marathon.  It is a race that I intend to enter and to complete at least one time before I hang up my running shoes for good.  This year shall not be the year in which I do it.  Next year perhaps.  

For one more year, at least, I will merely be a fan.  An admirer of those who are willing to push themselves to the limit - and beyond - in what is a singularly intense experience.  Here is to hoping that the story of this event in this year is simply the event itself and the people who make it great:  the participants.  


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