Extraordinary Machines

Some people get excited for birthdays, Christmas, New Year's. Me, not so much. I don't think too much about any of those. It's too much pressure. ("All riiiight! I'm gonna be having a fun time at exactly midnight. YES.")

But there are a few occasions where I go absolutely insane with excitement. Election Day is one. The Olympics is another. And tomorrow, the Flying Pig Marathon.

The first Pig, in 1999, I had recently moved to Ohio. On race morning I woke up at 5 a.m. and drove to Wendy's to get a breakfast sandwich before heading down to watch the race. Wendy's was closed. No matter, I drove from Hamilton to Cincinnati, and, not really knowing my way around downtown, parked in the dark somewhere and proceeded to find a spot to cheer on runners. (I'd be curious now to know where I was exactly.)

I've watched every Pig since then minus one, and that was because I was out of town. Usually I go by myself and most years I've known no one in the race. But the few times when I have known people, I am a maniac crowd supporter. I will and scream and holler and make a scene and go completely insane. It's a good time.

I was chatting with my old college friend Sandy Bressner this week (she's always Sandy Bressner, never just Sandy), who lives in Chicago. She was telling me how every year she wakes up at the crack of dawn to watch the Chicago Marathon. She has it all mapped out so that she can see the runners as many times as possible. ("I run to the L, then run to the next street, scream as they run past, jump on the L again...")

Which is exactly what I do, only minus the L. We laughed about how we both well up with tears as the runners pass us, especially toward the end, when they are suffering so much. The ones who are running in honor of someone else choke me up every time. And as they make that last turn on the course toward the finish line, I can barely contain my emotion. It's incredible to watch.

The human body never ceases to amaze me. The punishment it can absorb and then become stronger.

Perhaps it is because we are so vulnerable - that our skeletons are on the inside rather than outside, that our flesh is so easily pierced, that our bodies become ravaged by old age and disease - perhaps that is why watching thousands of people running down a street elates me.

Look how remarkable, I think. How resilient. So strong, so fast, so efficient.

What extraordinary machines.