Foiled by Marathoners

I struggled to get out of bed this morning. Monday was the last day I went running. All week, I hadn't been able to sleep through the night and, so, thinking sleep trumps exercise, I gave up exercising time to sleep, even though I lied awake thinking that I might as well get up to run. So, after falling asleep at 9:30pm Friday night (with the lights still on and me still fully dressed) and taking a nap Saturday afternoon, I told myself that I should be ready for a morning run Sunday.

Sunday morning came. I managed to get out of bed and started my climb up Oak to the Panhandle. Approaching the Panhandle, I noticed that something was wrong. There were no cars. As I got even closer, I saw that the streets were blocked off and there were police officers and high school aged people standing in the middle of the intersections. I got about half a block into my run when I noticed a 2 mile sign on Oak. It was the marathon that people all week were asking me if I was running.

I wasn't really running it, but when I reached the tip of the Panhandle that takes you into Golden Gate Park, I saw a mass of runners streaming out and heading straight for me. I turned and headed back east along the Panhandle and this crew of hundreds of people were running my direction too. I felt silly that we were all running together in the same directions, except they were running on Fell Street and I was running about twenty feet away from them in the park.

I decided to stop my jog and cross over to the other side of the Panhandle so that I could watch them approach. The runners in front looked amazing. They were running with such ease and grace. Their form was natural and relaxed. Their muscles were prominent without being bulky. Their bodies were trim. I wanted to be one of them but knew that I had tons of work to go before I would look and run like them.

After a few minutes of watching these runners, I decided to keep running, this time in the opposite direction of them. When I made it to the eastern end of the Panhandle where I would turn to head west, I realized that I couldn't. These runners got off the street and into the park. They were running in my space and there was no way I could get past them. Foiled! But, whatever. I wasn't going to be stopped so I cut across the muddy grass. I ran for maybe another minute before I felt ridiculous. I should just give up running for today, and I did. All the more serious runners had already passed me and I was able to make my way out of the Panhandle, among the slower runners, onto Fell, and across to the sidewalk on the other side.

I started to walk back home but stopped at a street corner to watch the walkers and joggers be cheered by some volunteers and friends. These people didn't have runners' bodies. They weren't trim. They didn't have protruding muscles. Instead, some of them had bellies and some extra weight. But, they had smiles on their faces when they were being cheered on and they were making their way through this race, just as the faster half-marathoners were. And, I thought that if these people, who were older than me and looked less fit than me, could be out running/walking 13.1 miles, so could I.