Runners take their marks

We’ve watched the New York Marathon every year since we moved here. I always find it amazing the way the course travels through all five buroughs and then ends in Central Park. Its hard not to feel emotionally pulled at the scope of the race, and at what it must mean to the runners–particularly as they blast Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” at the racer take off, heading over the Verazano Narrows bridge. We watched the leaders for a while from home on the TV, then walked up to Central Park to watch the masses finish.

They said 40,000 runners ran in this, the 40th annual marathon, and by the time we got to the park the bulk of the racers were coming through. I love how supportive and appreciative the crowd in the park is. Many people are there to cheer on their loved ones, but end up cheering for anyone and everyone. There is something wonderful about knowing that each runner is almost to the end of the race–and seeing the pain, triumph and determination in varying degrees on the participants’ faces.