I suppose it’s a wonderful ambition, to run 26.2 miles on a brisk Sunday morning. I have a great view of the NYC Marathon every year, as my apartment is right across from the Queensboro Bridge, where the runners enter Manhattan. I have friends who’ve run thir race, and my sister-in-law ran too, a few years back. She called us right before she crossed the bridge in a fright wig so we could pick her out of the crowd.
Here’s how the scene looks:
But I have to be honest: I don’t get why someone would willingly do this. It destroys your entire body. When you see people entering Manhatan, a lot of them are limping and slack-jawed, barely putting one sneaker in front of the other. It doesn’t look like fun, if you ask me. What does look like fun, you may ask?
Eating leftover Halloween candy. Here’s the detritus I created while literally 47,000 people are wrecking their knees, hips and ankles. I raised my Butterfinger to them, in admiration.