Bit chilly. A little humid. 6:15 AM. Standing on a curb in the dark under a flickering street light. Peering through the shadows as 15,000 runners, walkers, joggers and wheel chair marathoners undulate past my checkpoint.
Somewhere in this seething assemblage runs the prize -- one special runner. 108 pounds of lycra, muscle, grit, and pleasing shape wrapped around a smile!
This is the vigil. Two hours of keeping watch in fifteen second increments as the throng paces it's way from dawn to daylight. The prize arrives: fifteen seconds viewing time!
There! She's smiling, moving well -- safe, no injury. And... gone!
Well then, breakfast.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
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