One of the best features of the support during marathons is the cheer signs, some of which were very common (“Keep chafing the dream”, “Go, random stranger, go”, “You can do this!” etc.). Others were more topical, from the plausible “If Trump can run for President, you can run 26.2 miles!”, to the painfully misjudged…
NYC Marathon legend has it that the Green-bibbed runners crossing the Verazzano Bridge on the lower level are showered by the orange liquid emanating from the Orange-bibbed runners on the upper level. Whilst I cannot speak to previous years, I can tell you that definitely didn’t happen this year, perhaps because of the threat of…
“In the meantime 49,000 of my newest and worst dressed friends were doing the same thing in an unsurpassed festival of sartorial dissonance.”
As I hobbled into the front garden after my cooldown walk with our dog Sushi I just lay down in the foetal position, unable to take the six steps up into the house. Sushi licked my face and I didn’t move. Then the sprinklers came on. I still didn’t move.
The marathon is essentially an arbitrary distance anyway (26 miles, 385 yards). Some dude called Pheidippides ran that distance from the Battle of Marathon to Athens to deliver a victory message…and promptly DIED. Doesn’t that tell you something?
A trip to the US requires me to combine the original purpose of the trip with either a half-marathon, attendance at a baseball game, or both. During April’s trip I went to see the Clearwater Threshers and Palm Beach Cardinals play home games in the Florida State League, and I had a great view for…
This was galling: 15 months previously anything over a few hundred yards was a major achievement, and here I was giving a half-marathon the big shrug. Someone’s really got to lead the charge in changing the name to something energising. Something that sounds like a completion rather than the…y’know…half completion of something.
“I wondered to myself whether any uninjured person on target for their goal time has even stopped at the 20 mile mark. Maybe if lots of people have…there’s probably a Facebook group for those people where everyone congratulations each other on reaching the big 2-0 in miles and fighting back against the lunatic idolising of 26.2.”
One supposedly helpful phrase from a trainer haunted me through much of my marathon training: “After 10 miles you should feel as if you have put in very little effort”, which is to say, ‘if you’re hoping to do 26.2 miles without it killing you, you should still be feeling pretty good after 10, otherwise…yeesh…you don’t wanna know’.
It turns out that American tourists aren’t the only ones who struggle with roundabouts – my dog has no idea what she’s doing either. It may be that both suffer from bewilderment at having to go round something rather than straight over it.