Virtual Cacophony: You're All Crazy

Ok, I know that running marathons is all trendy and stuff. Everybody is supposed to want to run one. You train and train and maybe find a great location for your marathon and then participate in all the hoopla that goes along with it.

But I don't get it. Really, I don't.

I get that Mr. Greek Guy ran from Marathon to Athens (24.8 miles) to share the news of the Greek victory. News like that would be important to know. Maybe important enough that he gave his life to deliver it. Maybe.

I think it stinks that the reason today's marathons are 26.2 miles is because the 1908 olympics in London changed it so that the finish line would be right in front of the royal family's viewing box. Lazy British aristocracy. I wonder how much advance notice they gave the actual runners that they would be required to run an extra couple of miles.

I understand the desire to train for a marathon. Wanting the exercise and the fitness. But running the actual marathon? I don't get that.

But then again, I have never been the kind of person that wants to do things just to see if I can. Or to be able to say that I did it. Many years ago, I tagged along on a trip to London with my parents. My mom wanted to spend a day walking some route called the Jubilee walk just to say she had done it. I declined the invitation to join her. Was she kidding?! I was in London! I wanted to see the sights. Experience the city's power. I could walk at home.

I understand wanting to do the mud runs that seem to be popping up all over the place. They look really fun. I understand the shorter runs, especially if their location allows you to run through some breathtaking scenery. But a whole entire marathon? Or even crazier, an ultra marathon? Umm, no. I just don't get it.

But I realize that my sentiments are not shared by everyone. Like my husband, for instance.

I wasn't planning on going to see him finish this year. It's not so fun braving the crowds with 5 kids. Plus we miss all of church. But a few days before the race, I changed my mind. And the kids responded with jubilation.

I realized that I don't have to understand the desire to run a marathon. I can drag my kids out in support of something that is important to him, even if all the while I'm thinking (and sometimes saying) you're crazy. Seriously, C-R-A-Z-Y.

The choice of signs at the finish line made me laugh. All these runners who had run their hearts out being told at the end, "you're finished!" Done. You are over. Kaput.

Since we wanted the ability to be more encouraging some of the time, K & S made a two-sided sign. Shaggy was trying to get B to hold it so I could snap a picture. She had other ideas. She repeatedly clasped her hands behind her back and walked away from him. Wasn't gonna happen.

Until we tricked her into holding it when she sat down in the grass.

Shaggy really did well during this marathon. Last year kicked his butt. But this year, he ran strong and finished strong. More accurate training really helps. Go figure.

The kids were pretty impressed with their dad and his mad running skills. It inspired them to run their own marathons--round and round and round and round and round and round the coffee table. Heaven help me. What will I do with a houseful of marathon runners? R even gave herself a medal for finishing her marathon.

And the big girls staged a marathon. A Star Wars marathon. They could have been planning a real marathon for all the time and effort they put in.

Every participant had a bib with their name and bib number. Even poor Luke who was unable to participate since he had a broken arm and leg. With signed casts. He got to spend the whole race in, or on, the jeep. Maybe not so poor, after all.

Mr. Vader was stuck starting near Old Guy. Guess he's not so skilled at running. Which shouldn't be very surprising considering how much he gasps for breath.