Twin Cities Marathon - the Non-Runner's Guide

I had the easy part -- I stood in one place and cheered.

Twelve thousand runners, on the other hand, were out to put 26.2 miles behind them.

My husband and I both knew lots of people who were running it and I wanted to head down to the course to cheer some of them on. He stayed back with two sleepy girls, while I packed up a coffee and a cowbell and headed out on my bike.

Yes, I said a cowbell.

If you've never witnessed or cheered at an endurance event, please find an opportunity to do so. You will find inspiration.

There was the guy whose shirt said "90 days chemo-free." There was the older gentleman whose shirt read "I'm 60: first-time marathoner." There were tons of shirts for DetermiNation (American Cancer Society), Team in Training (Leukemia and Lymphoma Society), JDRF (Juvenile Diabetes Research Fund) and a host of other charities literally raising money on the backs of their supporters.

We knew a few people who were running with others to help them reach their marathon goal, be it 3 hours or 5 hours. One friend paced a group of first-time marathoners to their very first finish. I saw all shapes and sizes, people who were incredibly fit and those who could stand to lose a few pounds.  

A middle school-grader, who was there to cheer on his uncle, pulled out his trumpet and sheet music and began alternately playing the theme songs from Rocky and the Star Wars. It was obviously entertaining to the runners, who were smiling and laughing as they ran by.

Every time a pace group went by I was amazed by the crowd of runners. How do they run this close together without running into each other or tripping? I tried to pick out familiar faces, but it was impossible with all the people.

I stood there yelling encouragement and looking for familiar faces (I only saw two of the many people I knew running it) while dutifully ringing my cowbell. I and two other people holding cowbells, the middle schooler playing his trumpet and crowds of hundreds of supporters around me made a celebration of the human spirit which pushes people to push themselves.

It was humbling. It was inspiring.

After the majority of the crowd had passed by I took off on my bike and hit Caribou to pick up some freshly ground coffee to re-stock our kitchen, then biked home. I had to stop along the way, though, to capture some of the beautiful fall colors.

I arrived home to find my household in the same sleepy condition, with children snuggled in blankets watching cartoons, awaiting my return and the making of homemade french toast. It was two different worlds, one filled with noise and yelling, the other with quiet and respite, just blocks from each other.

I will be spectating again next year, finding inspiration once again.

But not to run, thank you, NOT to run.