Today we ran a marathon together because
David is the best, and dreams come true. It felt like when you are five, and
you’ve built a fort out of chairs and blankets. You want to show your mom what
you’ve made. To your delight, she doesn’t just sit outside of it but crawls in
to enjoy it with you, from the inside.
That’s what David did. He came inside my fort of distance running and delighted
in it with me. It was wonderful, and he was outstanding.
We ran the MetroPCS Dallas Marathon,
which goes from downtown Dallas, through Highland Park, around White Rock Lake,
and back. The race began at 8 a.m. with a releasing of the doves.
Actually, the doves were pigeons. They
were fleeing the scene, agitated by our mass exodus: majestic pigeons
emblazoning the occasion with significance and symbolism, providing us with palpable
imagery of forward progress in downtown Dallas—taking flight as we did, dodging
the Texas-shaped confetti, running through a long hall of port-a-potties, as we
also did. It was very beautiful. It was bucolic.
Not to sound like a librarian, but marathons
are noisier than ultras. There were drums, bands, clapping, and people
talk-yelling. You are never alone. (This is not an existential claim.) And Darth
Vader was standing next to bagpipes.
There was a Darth Vader.
He was standing next to bagpipes.
I almost missed him because he seemed
natural in the crowd, alongside a banana-girl and Spiderman.
The miles ticked by. It was very fun. We talked a lot. I
asked David if my mascara was running. He said no, but it was a trick question
because my whole self was running, eye lashes included, and I wasn’t wearing
any mascara. I liked having someone to talk to. One time, late in an ultra,
marking a decline in cognitive lucidity, I invented apple juice. This apple is so delicious. If only there
were some way to extract its fluid so that I would not have to chew. And no
one was there to tell me that it already existed. It was neat to have
conversation while we ran in stride, dropping Gatorade cups on each other’s
sneakers and dodging other runners.
When you finish, you wear aluminum foil blankets similar in texture to the wrappers that Pop Tarts and other snack foods come in. Can we have a moment of silence for the Twinkie?
I wanted to get David’s perspective as a
first-time marathoner and include it here, but he is writing a paper.
Therefore, I created a Mad Libs and have his responses recorded below, wholly
undoctored.
I, David, confirm that this Mad
Lib accurately captures the substance of my experience in the Dallas
(your name) (town you grew up in)
Marathon.
To summarize my first marathon, it is the
most Sabrina event I have ever encountered. I count it among
(synonym for best)
my favorite
things, including reading books and Sabrina. My wife, Sabrina,
said that it would be fun,
(something you love) (name of other person in this room)
and it was inarguably the best. My favorite
part of the race was White Rock. I had wonderful company
(antonym for horrible) (part of the race) (synonym for awesome)
and
enjoyed the release of mockingbirds at the start. Will I be back to run
another? Yes, I’d like to run
(type of bird)
these for eternity because long runs are
probably a lot like heaven.
(synonym for forever)
–David Little, first time marathoner and sold for “eternity”
(an official quote)
It's been a great day. I've got an awesome husband.
