Marathons

Saturday, June 12, 2010

As previously stated, I am not a runner. I never have been; I think I hit my running peak during my freshman year of high school when my friend talked me into running on the track team. That was a brutal experience that I never repeated. I think I would like to be one; imagine how much more in shape I could be if I actually liked just aimlessly running around outside for a half hour or so each day. But alas, I still have no developed a taste for it. Hopefully some day. For now, I'll stick to sitting indoors and lamenting what I lack, because I find that much more satisfactory.

Just because I don't like running doesn't mean that I don't like to watch others run. Something about other runners inspires me to get up and go, though it mostly inspires my mind, and very rarely does my body follow. However, I still find it pretty cool to watch others do something so extraordinary, regardless of its tendency to leave me quite jealous. I was reminded of this strange mix of awe and envy this morning, and about seven in the morning, when I stood on the side of the road helping distribute Powerade to a bunch of runners.

See, Maren has developed this impressive ability to talk me into doing things. This morning, those things included waking up at five o'clock to be at an aid station by five-thirty to volunteer for the Provo Marathon until eleven-thirty. Oh, and did I mention it was raining for the first hour? And in the fifties for the rest of the morning? How Maren managed to talk me into it, I will never know. Maybe it was the free t-shirt that lured me; free clothing tends to have a very strong pull on me. Regardless, at six o'clock this morning, I was not a happy camper. I even texted a sleeping Skyler to vent my displeasure, knowing full well that he wouldn't reply until he woke up at a decent hour for a Saturday morning.

But, as generally happens when Maren talks me into things, the experience turned out to be extremely rewarding in the end. Once the rain stopped, the runners came through, and I'd become decent at filling the cups to a good level with Powerade, so that neither the runners nor the volunteers would end up with blue stains down their fronts, it became a much more pleasant experience. And a very inspiring one at that.

Some of those marathon runners are absolutely phenomenal; they cruised through the station (we were at mile twenty-four, meaning they had two miles till the finish, and they already run most of the race) like they'd just started the race, and I can guarantee they were running faster at mile twenty-four than I would be running at mile two. It was incredible. And there were some runners who I never would have pegged to run a marathon, but they were right up there with the front of the pack. And then there were the two barefoot runners, a guy and a girl, who came through wearing absolutely nothing on their feet and still going strong. Now that takes practice.

It didn't matter whether the runners were in first place or last - they were still an inspiration to a non-runner like me. Thank you all those runners for their inspiration. Some day I'm going to run a marathon too!