There is nothing
ordinary about it.
The New York City
Marathon
Think of it as the
world’s largest
Outdoor church,
Or synagogue,
Or mosque,
Or sacred native
space.
I’ve been to a few
marathons in my time, including the granddaddy of them all:
In Boston
But in New York, on
the first Sunday in November, the most unifying of nontribal events occurs,
A road race, of all
things.
On Sunday (Nov. 5) I
went to “worship” on Fourth Avenue at 11 a.m. to 11:30 a.m.
That part of Fourth
Avenue in Brooklyn marks the 7-mile watering station of the race.
The look on so many
faces at that early point in the marathon: ecstatic, joyful, proud.
And those of us
watching, urging on the runners, were no less a part of the sacrament.
For one blissful
half-hour, during the weekend marking the first anniversary of the Election Day
Victory of Donald
Trump, I drank in the wonder that human beings can be capable of.
These runners before
me didn’t come to win prizes, most, on their list of priorities, would rank the
goal of getting a Personal Best time way down near the bottom.
Or so it seemed to
me.
Who can forget their
first New York City Marathon? Either as runner or spectator?
Comes a place, deep
inside, where real, positive change is possible.
Next: Running for Your Life: Gowanus Sharp Shooters !
