The People’s Marathon….done.

This marathon has been dubbed by my husband as the “hurry-up-and-wait” marathon. The lines were horrendous, the mass of runners overwhelming…. the sheer logistics were massive.

The marines were tall and handsome and they proclaimed, “Ma’am, you’re doing great!” whenever I saw them. Bands played, spectators lined the streets and cheered us on for almost the entire course. Little children held out their hands anxious to give us a “low-five” at every turn…. and I touched every little hand I could reach along the way. Mothers handed out Halloween candy and tissues for our runny noses.

There were runners in wedding attire, a clown suit, bare feet, and a few in wheelchairs. We ran on highways, bridges and by monuments. A marine put a medal around my neck. They stood side-by-side along the finish line and every one shook my hand and told me what a great accomplishment this was. Everything in between the starting line and that finish was frustrating, painful and emotionally moving.


All marathons are an experience and sometimes the experience becomes more enlightening as the days pass.

We have spent the “day after” re-living the event and re-discovering our country’s sometimes turbulent but beautiful past.

There will be so much more to say in a couple of days when I am safely back at home in the heart of the mountains I call home.

For now, I look forward to analyzing every one of the First Lady’s inaugural gowns, much to my husband’s chagrin, and touring the Air and Space Museum (to make up for the tour of the dresses), and then  a nice little moonlight tour of those monuments I barely saw along the course of the “hurry-up-and-wait” marathon. Talk to you again in a few days.