“Woo-hoo – you can do it. Way to go!”, I cheered to total strangers, from my perch on Second and Bergner Street.
On my way home from errands that morning, I realized that the Harrisburg Marathon was in the neighborhood, and decided to watch the action from the corner. There was another women there, armed with a cowbell. By the time we saw the runners, walkers and juggler, the competitors had been at it for up to 7 hours. The winners of the Marathon had been determined hours ago, and I bet til some of these folks finished, the bottles of water would be gone, and much of the race festivities would already be packed away for next year.
And still, they came. When they past us, they still had about 4 miles to go, down Riverfront Park and onto City Island. It’s a beautiful neighborhood, but not a glamorous stretch of race. There are lots of four-way stops so the runners were constantly eyeballing traffic to make sure it was safe to proceed. We saw several people pushing strollers with children, and we cheered extra loud for them. One silver-haired woman trotted by and as we yelled, she shook her head and mumbled, “I always tell people to do this when they’re YOUNG,” but she kept going.
One white-haired gentleman came by, and I’m no expert on age, but he looked closer to 80 than 60. He was walking, so I went up and gave him a high five, and he said “I’m the Abominable Snowman”, which is exactly what the writing on his shirt said. But it was the back of his shirt that caught my eye: “Since 1982. Every mile a victory.”
Then a car pulled up to us. A woman stuck her head out and pointed to the runners coming up the road. “That’s my daughter, Kim. Cheer for her”. So we did. “Go, Kim, you mom asked us to cheer for you. She loves you. Go Kim’s friend, too!”
At about 1:45, a parade of paramedics drove past us, heading toward the city, and when we couldn’t see any more athletes’ heads pop over the hill, we called it a day. I decided to walk up the race path toward my house, just in case. And sure enough, there was one final man, running slowly, beaming. I crossed the street and turned on my cheering and clapping, sorry I didn’t have my cowbelled friend with me. “Who-hoo! Way to finish!” He gave me thumbs up and said, “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?’
Yes, it was. Life. Embraced.
Chris Wnuk
Author, Contents May Have Shifted During Life:
Unpacking the Stories of a Daughter, Wife and Technology Goddess
www.christinewnuk.com
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photo credits: from www.harrisburgmarathon.com













