Surrogate runner's high.
It seems that every neighborhood that I live in has an event that causes the nearby streets to be blocked off completely for one day. At my apartment in Wrigleyville, when I lived down the street from Halsted, I would be stuck in my place (i.e. there's no way I could get a car in or out) during the weekend of the Gay Pride Parade. It was always a fun celebration and a great crowd, but the *crowd*. So many people. Even if they would have unblocked my street so I could get my car out, there'd be nowhere for me to park once (and if) I could get back in. I totally didn't mind it because it was so much fun.
Here at my condo, I get the Chicago Marathon. Once a year, the streets are blocked off for six hours as the runner go past my subdivision, blocking me in completely. There's absolutely no way to get my car out of the lot, and even crossing the street is fraught with peril, as runners fly by (as I found out today when I slopped hot chocolate down my leg as I tried to scurry between running packs). I'm right before mile marker 11, and they always have a band play at Seward Park, which is right across the street, which just puts so much energy into the air. Katie came over and her and Mike and I set up shop to cheer on the runners. The elite runners came by only 45 minutes into the race, but we had more important things to worry about--Katie's cousin and our friend Mavourneen (pronounced "ma-vor-nin") was running, and we planned to scream and shout when she came by. All we knew was that she would be in a purple tank top and black shorts.
Packs of normal runners (not professional) started coming by an hour or so into the race, and we cheered on the people who came by. After a bit, we started cheering on the people who had their names on their shirts ("Good job, Greg!" and "Keep going Mollie!", that sort of thing). Did we know these people? No. But we figured that since they had their names plastered on the front of their clothes, they were asking to be cheered on, and we gladly did. As an hour went by, we got more and more loud and animated, cheering and clapping until our hands were red and throats sore, out hot drinks totally cold from ignoring them. Some of the runner would wave, point a finger, or pump a fist in our direction in thanks for the support, others would shout "thank you!" or just shout a "woo!". Mike and I loved to cheer for the people with White Sox apparel on, shouting, "Go Sox!" loudly, and getting high-fives from some of the runners. But still, no Mavourneen.
About 1:50 into the race, we're standing there and cheering for the people who went past, when out of nowhere, Mavourneen shouts a "hello!" at us. We realized that it was her and started to freak out and scream and cheer, and the next thing Katie and I knew, we were running on the sidewalk beside her, shouting and cheering her on. We made it around the corner and halfway down the block and kept screaming and cheering her on and oh my God, it was so exciting! And we weren't even the ones running the damn race! When we went back to Mike who was where we were standing before, I asked him if he took a picture of her going by. "How could I?" he said, "She came out of nowhere!"
Katie and I stayed out there for another hour and cheered on the people who went by (Mike worked last night and went to bed). When it was only the marathon walkers left (and since we can walk 26.2 miles ourselves, it's not really worth staying to cheer for) we went inside. I was worn out from all of the cheering, and I realized that I clapped for three hours straight. I know that it's not the same thing as running for three hours straight, but I think that I helped the runners a teensy bit. Mavourneen ending up finishing in about 5 hours, which is a good time for her. Either way, I had a great time and can't wait for next year (I'm getting a cowbell).
Here at my condo, I get the Chicago Marathon. Once a year, the streets are blocked off for six hours as the runner go past my subdivision, blocking me in completely. There's absolutely no way to get my car out of the lot, and even crossing the street is fraught with peril, as runners fly by (as I found out today when I slopped hot chocolate down my leg as I tried to scurry between running packs). I'm right before mile marker 11, and they always have a band play at Seward Park, which is right across the street, which just puts so much energy into the air. Katie came over and her and Mike and I set up shop to cheer on the runners. The elite runners came by only 45 minutes into the race, but we had more important things to worry about--Katie's cousin and our friend Mavourneen (pronounced "ma-vor-nin") was running, and we planned to scream and shout when she came by. All we knew was that she would be in a purple tank top and black shorts.
Packs of normal runners (not professional) started coming by an hour or so into the race, and we cheered on the people who came by. After a bit, we started cheering on the people who had their names on their shirts ("Good job, Greg!" and "Keep going Mollie!", that sort of thing). Did we know these people? No. But we figured that since they had their names plastered on the front of their clothes, they were asking to be cheered on, and we gladly did. As an hour went by, we got more and more loud and animated, cheering and clapping until our hands were red and throats sore, out hot drinks totally cold from ignoring them. Some of the runner would wave, point a finger, or pump a fist in our direction in thanks for the support, others would shout "thank you!" or just shout a "woo!". Mike and I loved to cheer for the people with White Sox apparel on, shouting, "Go Sox!" loudly, and getting high-fives from some of the runners. But still, no Mavourneen.
About 1:50 into the race, we're standing there and cheering for the people who went past, when out of nowhere, Mavourneen shouts a "hello!" at us. We realized that it was her and started to freak out and scream and cheer, and the next thing Katie and I knew, we were running on the sidewalk beside her, shouting and cheering her on. We made it around the corner and halfway down the block and kept screaming and cheering her on and oh my God, it was so exciting! And we weren't even the ones running the damn race! When we went back to Mike who was where we were standing before, I asked him if he took a picture of her going by. "How could I?" he said, "She came out of nowhere!"
Katie and I stayed out there for another hour and cheered on the people who went by (Mike worked last night and went to bed). When it was only the marathon walkers left (and since we can walk 26.2 miles ourselves, it's not really worth staying to cheer for) we went inside. I was worn out from all of the cheering, and I realized that I clapped for three hours straight. I know that it's not the same thing as running for three hours straight, but I think that I helped the runners a teensy bit. Mavourneen ending up finishing in about 5 hours, which is a good time for her. Either way, I had a great time and can't wait for next year (I'm getting a cowbell).