Something about Marathon Monday always thrills me. I’ve loved the Boston Marathon ever since I was a kid. The cheering. The silver superhero capes you get to wear when you finish. The pre-race carbo-loading, and, I imagine, the post-race ice-cream-sundae-loading. It all looks good to a 12-year-old.
Now that I’m older, I’m barely any wiser, but I do know that the running part’s no picnic. Especially the 26 miles part of the running part. How do these people do it? And, why? The only explanation I can think of is that they’ve all lost their minds at the same time, and they’re trying to catch up to them.
The nor’easter that is currently trying its best to knock over trees onto our house ought to make this the best marathon ever. The 50 mph wind gusts may yield the most interesting times in marathon history. The 3 to 5 inches of rain in the forecast will certainly help with hydration. And the wind chill, estimated at fricking freezing, means no fear of heat stroke.
Can the Kenyans still win under these conditions? I know I’ll be glued to the TV in my nice, dry living room to find out.