Everybody's Got Their Something

The New York Marathon displays humanity at its finest. While running through the five boroughs, I saw neighbors packing sidewalks to cheer for strangers they would never meet.  Some sidewalks were 10 people deep as people beat on pots and pans, offered oranges, tissues and candies, clapped, high-fived and toasted.  One guy, who on any other day may appear at a back room card table in an Italian restaurant in Little Italy, was proudly using both strong arms to hold a jam box blaring “Eye of the Tiger” for passing runners.  One mother was rocking back and forth with a sleeping baby as she stood.  I remember being especially moved by her skipping a cribbed nap to cheer. I hoped I would be willing to do the same.  I heard throaty rap, Jewish music, Cuban music as I passed each block -all played for the runners. The fervency with which these strangers declared “You got it!”  “Looking strong AK!” Or the best,  A beautiful woman with a bluesy voice jumped to my side to meet my eyes and said  “AK, you are the finest woman I have ever seen!”  Seriously. Then she said to Peter running behind me “Peter you are the finest….”

The runners also offered encouragement.  Some of us were running for charity, some helped pass the time in costume.Getting passed by a hotdog and mustard may have shaken a more dignified runner.  In a moment of fatigue and pain, I looked around for a conversation to listen to or start, and I saw a man in a full fireman gear running just ahead of me.  So I picked up the pace to catch him.
“That looks heavy,” I said.
“Yep it is,” he replied in a Scottish accent.
“So then you won’t mind if I jump on your back?”  I asked.
“I’d rather you jump on me front!” he said.

Oh to be that quick witted!

I laughed all the way to the next mile marker.  I saw my dear friends Shannon and Marett Cole outside Sloan Kettering.  Marrett, 3 at the time, was receiving treatment for Neuroblastoma. I stopped for a quick hello, then ran on.  At that point I was hurting badly and felt nervous about the miles ahead.  I wondered if the pain I felt early on in my foot signaled a race ending injury.  I wondered if I was going to hit the wall I had heard so much about.  I wondered if I was going to seize up, froth at the mouth, or have my legs lock up completely and have to run like that.  Or worse yet, have to crawl dragging stiff legs. I wondered if I would even know if I had to stop for the loo (I had heard horror stories). ***

 The noise entering Manhattan was deafening.  The loudest compilation of voices I have ever heard, times ten! And I ran and ran and ran, crossing the finish line in Central Park.   There were over two million spectators - many of whom were looking for their friends, their sweetie, maybe a cousin, but many were just looking for me, and him and her.  People they did not know and had no need to, but they cheered as if we were their dearest friend in need.  Those earnest cheers, jam box songs, bullhorn blows of a strangers crystalized for me the beautiful generosity in people. I have not been the same since.  

Lucky me,
AK


***PS: Here is what happened:  The pain that started at mile 8 went away.  I did not hit the wall. That time. My body did not seize and my legs did not lock.  I was not frothy to my knowledge.  I did know when to go and successfully made it to the loo in my hotel.  My whole body hurt, I felt physically and mentally spent and as content as I ever have.  And I had a street hotdog on the way to dinner.