I had never heard of the Rock N Roll Marathon series until I got this weekend gig cashiering at their expo. They were hosting a ½ marathon here in Philly; a sold out marathon at that, with 19,000 runners. What is a ½ marathon? Its 13.1 miles of raw endurance. Early Friday morning before the expo opened I walked around the hall and looked at all the photos hanging from the walls. Photos from a marathon in San Jose. Another ½ marathon in San Antonio. A marathon in New Orleans. NYC. Dallas. Las Vegas. Photos of Rock N Roll Marathon cheerleaders enthusiastically shouting from the sidelines. Photos of a Rock concert, which always awaits the runners at the finish line. Photos of people smiling.
As a runner I never run more than 2 miles on any given day because, well, I’m lazy. When I realized what this Rock N Roll Marathon was I figured, if I’m gonna be surrounded by real runners all weekend maybe they’ll inspire me some. But what is a real runner anyway? Super skinny girls in tights whose legs make up ¾ of their bodies? Yeah, they were there. But they only made up a fraction of the crowd. I met runners of all shapes and sizes. I met a heavy-set gay couple who told me that this would be their 5th marathon this year!
An Asian guy with a thick accent was buying a black fleece with the logo ‘Rock N Roll Philadelphia ½ Marathon 2010’ branded across the back. I asked him if he was running & he said yes. I couldn’t make out what else he said but I caught the word ‘siete’. He saw the confused look on my face and explained but I still couldn’t understand him. All I heard was “Something something something siete. Siete something something siete.” “Seven what?” I asked, “I’m sorry, I don’t….” But then he turned around to show me the back of the black fleece he was currently wearing, which was identical to the one he was purchasing except for the logo read ‘Rock N Roll Seattle ½ Marathon 2010’. “Oh, Seattle!” I said, “You ran in Seattle too!?” He nodded, beaming.
In fact I don’t think a single Philadelphian came through my line all weekend.
My favorite customers were the ones who were nearly pissing their pants because this would be their very first marathon. One girl asked me if I was running and when I told her no she asked, “Why not?” “Well,” I explained, “I’ve never run that far before. The most I’ve ever run is 7 miles, I’d never be able to do a ½ marathon.” She replied, “The most I’ve ever ran is 6 miles! But I’m gonna try.”
Last year I raised money for the AIDS fund and then on the morning of the AIDS run I never got out of bed. I freaked out and stayed under my blankets. I didn’t think I could do it. And here I was surrounded by 19,000 runners, most of whom have never run 13 miles before in their lives but have crossed the country just to try it. They reminded me of myself when I was 17 years old. I had never run a single mile before but I wanted to join the cross country team, just to try it. I remember that feeling, the uncertainty of self as you’re standing at the starting line trying not to throw up. The anxiety as you’re halfway through & see so many other runners dropping like flies. And that feeling when you cross the finish line. It doesn’t matter how many people are behind or ahead of you, when you cross the finish line, you’ve won. And you realize the only person you were trying to beat all along was yourself.
One woman was in my line with new shoes, clothes, compression socks, a belt & some other things I didn’t even recognize. She was talking so fast I barely caught a word, then she picked up a tube off my counter & read the label, “Anti-friction lotion.” She looked at me, alarmed, “Do I need this too? Oh my God! What else do I need? I heard I should wear two pairs of socks, is that true? I packed pants to run in and now I need shorts because I think it’s gonna be hot and I don’t want to get over-heated. Do you know what the weather is gonna be like tomorrow? I checked it an hour ago but it changes-” She was talking too fast to comprehend at this point, going on about the course and rocks and extra soles for her running shoes, “I’m gonna lose, I don’t even know why-” “Is this your first ½ marathon?” I asked her. “Yes,” she answered. “Well,” I said, “Don’t think of it as a race, but a run. And all you have to do is finish.” She seemed to have taken her first breath, smiled and said slowly, “You’re right, and that’s all I want to do. Just finish.” And I made her put the anti-friction lotion back.
Indeed I was inspired this weekend. By real runners and real people who were just trying to prove something to themselves. I miss the feeling you get from challenging yourself. I think I want to start pushing myself again, the way I used to when I ran for a team. And next year, maybe I’ll run a Rock N Roll ½ Marathon.
