One can’t help but to think of the Boston Marathon bombing in 2013, when New York’s annual Marathon takes place this coming Sunday. It’s like runner’s roulette…where three thousand or more are gathered.
Yet the crowds come, runners assemble, ignoring the possibilities that after, what occurred this past Tuesday, when 8 people were casually killed by a terrorist, anything could happen, anywhere, at anytime. But that’s what terrorism is all about after all, to be frightened enough not to participate. So we all say, screw’em, as we go to baseball games and outdoor graduations, rock concerts and strolls in the park, along peaceful, serene bike paths, with or without our bikes…
the ones left standing, determined to live our lives.
I won’t be going to the park this weekend, not out of fear, but for the race’s overall intrusion. The barricades preventing you from your normal route, the many families supporttng the runners, congesting the pathways.
It’s like Disney without the rides.
We also have all the young men trying to get laid before the race, thinking it’s their due. “So’a, vont ta eat pasta weet me?” Thinking they can invite a guest, at the night before, pasta dinner, they throw for the runners every year, trying to woo you with cheap rigatoni.
“No thanks, but have a great, SAFE, race,” would be my stock phrase. Even I’ve had past invites, as they dazzle, from the waist down, hoping to catch your eye.
You have to admire their pluck, plus enthusiasm over pasta and Poland Spring, the signature water of the race.