Okay, so out of nowhere on Friday, I got an opportunity to go with my family to Vancouver, BC to watch my brother run the Vancouver marathon. They picked me up Saturday morning and we drove the 5+ hours up to Vancouver. This was my first time in Canada, so I was excited to finally see it. Turns out, Canada looks just like the US, at least the tiny corner I saw of it. I don’t know why, but for some reason I imagined Canada as some mystical magical fairyland where everyone is nice to everyone else all the time. Sad to realize that a lot of our unpleasant traits in the US are actually human traits and not just about being American. Back when Bush won a second time, I was seriously considering a move to Canada to get out of this ridiculous republican redneck-run country, but now that I’ve seen that it’s pretty much just like here, I’m really glad we moved to Portland instead.
The marathon was f-ing awesome! I woke up on Sunday, marathon day, around 7:40 AM. I went up to my parents’ hotel room on the 18th floor because there was a good view of Stanley Park from their balcony and you could see the line of runners winding their way around the park. It was fun to watch all of these tiny little people running their asses off in the distance. I was struck by an intense feeling of wanting to be out there with them, running, feeling the wind and the drizzling rain on my face. At that moment I knew, without a doubt, that I am going to run a marathon someday.
The marathon course ran right in front of the hotel, so we went down to the street for a little while to watch the half marathon walkers. It was going to be a while before any of the runners came through, so we went to have breakfast in the hotel restaurant. We got a table overlooking the street so we were able to watch the walkers and the first runners go by. After we finished breakfast, more runners were starting to come through so we went back down to the street to watch for Brian. It was incredible to see all of these different people from different lives come together for the sole purpose of running the marathon. Very inspiring.
Finally, we saw Brian. He looked a little tired (this was mile 11, after all), but was still raring to go. He ran on his way and we tried to figure out where the next good point for us to see him would be. My mom and I started walking towards mile 15 but got a call a little later from the rest of the group and adjusted our route towards mile 17 instead. We met up with everybody at mile 17 and waited again for Brian to pass. We were a little paranoid that we timed it wrong and may have missed him, so eventually we started walking back towards the hotel. Luckily, that direction was also against the flow of runners and we finally spotted Brian. He had slowed his pace a bit because his knee was bothering him, but he still seemed in pretty good spirits. He ran on and we walked back to the hotel.
We hung out at the hotel for about 20-30 minutes before grabbing a couple of cabs over to the BC Place stadium where the finish line was. Our cab had to let us off a few blocks from the stadium because the roads were closed for the marathon, so we walked the rest of the way. The finish line was so exciting because the crowds would call out people's names and cheer for them as they crossed into the finishing area (everyone's first name was printed on their race number). We picked a spot and waited for Brian again. Finally, he appeared! It was so emotional for me to see him cross the finish line…I was and am incredibly proud that he was able to accomplish what he did, especially after the scariness of the whole brain tumor thing. I still remember sitting in the hotel the night before his first surgery, not knowing what was going to happen or if he would ever be the same again. Now, seeing him run a freaking marathon and of course still being the same wiseass he has always been, I realized just how lucky we had all been that everything worked out so successfully.
So it was a fantastic day. All in all, we ended up walking 3.43 miles to meet Brian at different spots in the race…more distance than I would cover in any 5k, so I’m not so worried about that any more. And it was tough, and my feet hurt, but it didn’t kill me. And neither will the 5k…and neither will running a marathon of my own someday.
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