What My 100th Marathon Taught Me

I ran and walked my hundredth marathon on my fifty-seventh birthday, through a beautiful wooded park on the outskirts of Paris. I felt great during the first of four loops of the course, like I actually was a runner again. Reality quickly caught up to me, as I had started too fast, and the second half of the race took a half hour longer than the first half. My legs were leaden and painful on those last two laps, and I was on the verge of cramping up. However, that did give me extra time to think about and thank all of the people who had inspired me, taught me, and supported me in my running. Thank you again!

When I prepared for my first marathon I trained alone, embedded in the mystique of “the loneliness of the long distance runner”. I liked running alone — the solitude, the time and space for uninterrupted thinking, the opportunity to be immersed in nature. But for my first, I ran the iconic Boston Marathon with my brother — we were “bandits” and not officially entered — along a route stuffed with other runners and thronged with rooting on-lookers. I had anticipated that I would be turned off by the swarm of humanity.

I was astounded when I heard people cheering for me. Why were they cheering when they didn’t even know me? I’ve always been quiet, verging on invisible — I’d need three or four meetings before I’d make a first impression on people. And when I eventually would receive attention, it always seemed dependent on my behavior — for being smart, or well-behaved, or kind. Strangers cheering me on just for running or for wearing a University of Rochester t-shirt felt like a different kind of acceptance and approval. And when one slower reader added to the “Go, Rochester!” shouts with a “Go, University!” cheer, it finally dawned on me that maybe humanity was more benevolent and encouraging than the apathy or rejection I had assumed was the default attitude.

Even greater than my surprise that others were cheering for me, was my shock that I actually felt inspired by these strangers yelling encouraging comments. Maybe there were dimensions to me beyond the isolated loner. That first marathon taught me something important and good about the world and about myself.

That first marathon also taught me to not start out too fast. My brother and I had agreed to run together, but had not trained…