Am I the only one who gets all choked up when the first notes of “New York, New York” start playing, and hundreds of thousands of runners start making their way across the Verazano bridge?
The New York City marathon is on Sunday. It has come to be one of the highlights of our year in New York–even if (or perhaps because) I almost always find myself tearing up along the sidelines.
There’s so much to love: the sense of accomplishment and pride–vicariously enjoyed; the fall colors on display in the park with hardly anyone in its center; the feeling that, while it’s a nightmare for drivers, most of the city is a little bit excited about its starring role for the day; the number of strangers congratulating medal-clad strangers on the streets; and the scene which follows the race, including both the silver-tarped racers in pedi-cabs with beaming family members, and the runners with the tell-tale grimaces as they try to go down the stairs in the subway the next morning.
And this year, the marathon coincides with a family visit! Aron’s parents flew in, along with Aron’s sister and our nephews–Patrick and Peter–last night! They’ll all be in town through Sunday evening, when Laura and the boys will return to Germany, and the Bruhns will return to California.
It’s going to be a good weekend.
Hope yours will be one, too!
[Photo from last year]
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