doodledee

This morning Libby and I went down and watched the Twin Cities Marathon run by. We started by riding our bikes down to Lake Harriet and watching at the 6-mile mark. Later, we drove over to St. Paul and set up camp at the 24-mile mark to cheer people to the finish.

It's really neat to watch the race in person. As you stand on the side of the route - sipping coffee and bitching about the weather - a river of runners rolls past you. And it rolls. And it rolls. And it rolls. Even in the early stages of the race, it can take a good hour for the bulk of the field to go by. Not that it feels like a long time, it's just that big of a river.

Beyond the runners themselves are the enormous crowds of people that come out to the watch the race. Some ring bells, some beat drums, some hold signs, and some just yell and scream. The Southwest High School pep band stood and played at a water station. They sucked, but it didn't matter. This one lady stood at the 24-mile mark and yelled encouragement to anyone that stopped to walk. (One girl in particular walked by in tears. Most of us felt bad and looked away. This lady looked right at her and told her she 'looked strong' and that she was gonna make it. If that's not a good person, I don't know what is.) An older lady on the other side of the street from us stood and banged on a cowbell with a big stick for 45 minutes without stopping. I don't think she said a single word.
People do all this to support of a bunch of strangers out for a run. That's pretty damn cool.

While watching it all, I again realized how huge of a kick I get out of seeing so many people genuinely trying their best at something. And what's more, so many other people genuinely wanting them to succeed at it. It's like a collective mentality of kick-ass-ness. I wish more stuff in life worked like that.