Monday, November 2, 2009

I Hope That Lump In My Throat Isn't Cancer

Almost Mile 26
Originally uploaded by reallyct

My brother, his friend Stephanie, and, if the mainstream media is to be believed, several other people ran the marathon yesterday. Let me start by saying, "way to effin' go!"

My cold heart? Officially moved.

My pride glands? Swollen.

To illustrate exactly how proud/excited/amped up I was, I went to Queens.

Originally uploaded by reallyct

To stand and hope I saw them (I didn't). Buoyed by the awesome supportingness of devoted partner, I spent the day watching people indulge themselves in what I consider a highly suspect pastime: endurance exercise. And it was incredible. I haven't actually watched the marathon since I was a kid, but I hope to watch it many more times in the future. It is one big United Colors of Benetton happyfest

Originally uploaded by reallyct

(with exhaustion, the threat of imminent cardiac arrest, bleeding nipples, and missing toenails thrown in to bring us all back to reality).

We potatoes on the sidelines exercise our talkie-holes to cheer the runners - all the runners - on to the finish. We call them by name (and by the way, mein bruder, you couldn't be bothered to Sharpie your names on your shirts?) though we don't know them and tell them they're doing great, that they're almost there and there is NO IRONY. The marathon is a wholly irony-free zone, and you can just imagine how uncomfortable that makes me.

I kind of loved everyone and knew that though I missed them in Queens, someone didn't.

Originally uploaded by reallyct

Someone, and frankly I assume there were lots of someones, cheered my brother and Steph through the borough of Queens. Loudly. Whole-heartedly. As I cheered for the friends those people missed.

In fact, I almost missed them twice. It was devoted partner who spied them coming up Central Park South, at the precise moment I wasn't paying attention. I looked up and saw them nearly passing us and I was off. Gentle readers, I ran like a lunatic person. And ran fast. Especially for someone who can probably be classified "dangerously sedentary" by the medical establishment. I sprinted and I weaved through people because I was going to see them, make eye contact, wave my very very very lame sign, and get a picture (a #$%#$&%%$ blurry picture, but a picture nonetheless). I don't know how these two can be smiling (or frankly looking so good), but they were and they did.

Originally uploaded by reallyct

I don't know what their final time was. I know The Boy said by mile 12 his knee was farked, and that he stopped at every subsequent aid station to have it looked at. Stephanie, you are whatever the lady equivalent of bon mec is for adjusting your pace and making sure you two finished together. Everyone who cheered for these two along the way (and for my cousin Sarah who made the awesome time of 3:36, for Lauren and Josh my former grade school classmates, for Chefs Rafael and Olivier who nicely let me into their kitchens last year): you guys frickin' rock!

Fortunately for my traditional bedfellows, pessimism and vitriol,

Dbag Marathon Edition, 11/1
Originally uploaded by reallyct

we returned home to the suburbs sitting near these two, who will be excoriated in tomorrow's special Couples Edition of Hall of Commuter Dbags.

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