The ING MIAMI Marathon was run this morning. 21,000 elite and "wannabe" runners started out in downtown Miami at 6:30am on a perfect running day with the temperature in the low 50's and the sun shining overhead.
21 miles later, I was out on Bayshore Drive in Coconut Grove, marveling at the elite class runners who glided by early on and anxiously watching my wristwatch to determine when I would get a glimpse of my sister's oldest grandson and my grandnephew, Craig, coming down the road. He was due somewhere between 9 and 9:30 according to the e-mail he sent me yesterday. I had my cellphone camera ready, my freshly painted "Go Craig!" sign propped up against my leg.
It was deja vu all over again as I flashed on a long ago New York Marathon. I am standing on the sidewalk at 2nd Avenue and 59th Street, 17 miles into the race, waiting for Craig's dad, my favorite nephew Bobby, to come running off the 59th Street Bridge on his way to the finish line at Central Park. Nine of our friends, including my ex, were also running that day. I was serving as their cheering section. For my non-runner readers, a marathon is 26.3 very, very, long miles.
Don't want to upset you, Bobby, but your son looked a helluva lot better at 21 miles this morning than you looked that day at 17. But you both finished, and that's what really counts about running a marathon. I know. I used to be a runner, myself, and finished a half marathon, 13.1 miles, so I have the greatest respect for those out there who are still running some five hours after they started out.
Once I got back home this morning, I couldn't wait to post the photo I took of Craig on my Facebook page. (See photo above. It's a little dark because the sun was behind him.) A few minutes later, a second picture popped up on the page. This one from Craig's wife, Ana. It was a picture he had taken of me, on the run, with his cell phone, as I was taking his. Isn't technology awesome?????
I'm a walker these days, no longer a runner. When I called Bobby to give him an update on his son, he reminded me that the first race we ran in together was a 10k on Thanksgiving weekend, called the North Miami Turkey Trot. That was a mere 40 years ago, but I remember it well.
Congrats, Craig. Your great-aunt is really proud of you. You go, boy.
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