Let me finish tonight with this.
I spent Sunday watching the Philadelphia Marathon. Let me tell you, if you haven’t witnessed one of these spectacles, you’re missing something great about this country.
First of, talk about getting engaged: 28,000 people ran in the race through the old city and then out past Boathouse Row on Kelly Drive. They ranged from the winner, who ran 13 miles an hour, to the gutsy amateurs, who simply managed to run for 26.2 miles.
But just as impressive were the people along the sidelines cheering them on—cheering on complete strangers, yelling out their names you could read on their bibs, cheering just because they want to help them keep on running.
There were bands along the route and all kinds of people. The runners would yell out, thanking people just for showing up to encourage them.
It’s another view of my city. We’re known for being tough fans when it comes to professional sports (I could tell you stories!) who on one notorious day even threw snowballs at Santa Claus. But the people of Philly and those who came from around the country Sunday were doing something magnificent: showing we’re in this together. We’re not afraid to yell ourselves silly for people who have the guts to get out there and run. Okay, I’ll admit it—I was thrilled by the whole thing, especially by our Caroline going the distance and finishing well up there in the pack. It was a great day for Philly and for the country.
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