Running Along

This morning at approximately 7:30 we will begin seeing, cyclists first, then runners scurrying through Woodbridge, my neighborhood in Detroit. They will be frantically attempting to escape some keenly felt yet unseen and rather undefined danger, this being Detroit and the bulk of them being suburbanites.

All right, that's not fair, this morning anyway. It's the annual Detroit Free Press Marathon. It's running down Avery, right in front of my house, for the third straight year.

It is quite the compliment that Woodbridge is thought of so highly that it's become an integral part of the run. Mom thoroughly enjoyed it the first year it passed in 2021, although I don't think she understood what was happening. But that's okay, Mom. I'm not sure I get the point of it either. Running simply for the fun of it? That's borderline psychotic.

It is odd to see Avery barren of cars; they clear the streets to give the participants more room. I'll spend several hours watching from the front porch swing, hot pumpkin spice coffee in hand, and try to hang out until the final stragglers pass sometime around Noon. But with the cold I'm fighting I may surrender early and burrow under the eight blankets on my bed, and simply listen to the folks as they trod past. It's supposed to be cold and wet this morning and I can't seem to warm up enough this weekend, drat the timing. But there's always next year, and I'll be happy enough with what I do see. Sometimes it is just the sense of event which is entertaining.

Curlers Were First, Marathoners

A tradition I discovered yesterday during the Detroit Free Press Marathon was that spectators often cheered the runners by ringing cow bells. That's all right, but as we all know, curlers used the cow bell cheer first.

The Swiss have for years inspired their national curling teams with cow bell ringing. As a curler, I have a sweater which attests to it.

So go ahead and wave your cow bells at the 2023 Detroit Marathon. Wave them vigorously. But just to set the record straight: you're copiers, not innovators. We did it first.

A Love Hate Relationship

The annual Detroit Free Press Marathon runs (ha, ha, runs) down Avery Street for the second straight year today. I have to admit that I'm looking forward to it. Last year was neat; Mom really enjoyed it. We weren't sure we should wake her for it (it began fairly early) but she really got a kick out of watching the street parade of runners and joggers from her own front porch. 

It will pass by a little later this morning. In 2022 we were at mile 3; we're just before mile 13 this time around, or about half way through the 26 mile plus route. Any way you slice it, I am truly in great anticipation of the event. The irony is, left up to me I probably would not have it go through my Woodbridge neighborhood.

Yes, yes, yes, I know. It's a blinding contradiction. I like the marathon, I look forward to it, I would change it if I could. Maybe still allow it through Woodbridge but one street over, on Commonwealth rather than Avery, just so I wouldn't be stuck at home. It's only six hours that the street will be closed to vehicular traffic. But doggone it, that includes my vehicle, my ability to come and go as I please, for that six hours. Sure, I'm not going anywhere. Yet I want to be able to go somewhere just the same.

I'm not trying to justify it. I'm only saying that's how I feel.

Mom's Marathon Redux

The Detroit Marathon has come and gone (hah!) and I have to say the day was grand, a cold, early start notwithstanding. Mom got up in plenty of time for it, insisting all day Saturday that she wanted to see it. 

She was quite pleased. Dressed up for winter and even draping a quilt around her, she sat for the the entire 45 minutes it took for the runners and walkers and bicyclists to pass. "This is nice!" she said constantly, waving regularly at the participants.

It especially pleased her to hear people shout compliments about the Halloween decorations spread about the lawn. "I'm glad they like Sammy's yard," she remarked several times. Moms appreciate when their kids are appreciated.

On that note, one woman took a minute to say to Sam directly, "You have a very sincere pumpkin patch." He always has pumpkins all over the place. And Charlie Brown fans surely appreciate the compliment.