Philadelphia Marathon
The 2002 Philadelpha Marathon was special for me for a lot of
reasons, but two stand out in my mind.
I spent the night before the Marathon with my old high school
friend, Adil. We hadn't seen each other in years and it was lots
of fun catching up with him and reminiscing about the good old
days. We watched old, beloved Dr. Who episodes together and also
quizzed ourselves in SAT vocabulary.
Adil's brother, Ibrahim, was away at college so the family gave
me his room for the night. As I was preparing for bed, I noticed
a white yarmulke on the nightstand. When I looked on the inside
of the yarmulke I read:
"In honor of the wedding of Sharon Smith and Mordechai..."
I remembered Sharon really well because we had both been members
of our high school's Model United Nations club. We had even been
chosen by our team captain to represent Japan on the "Security
Council" during one session held in Princeton (we had placed
third out of thirty or forty delegations). Now she was married
and probably a bio-engineer, and I was waiting tables and
running marathons.
The second thing I liked about that race was running through my
old hometown, Philadelphia. I actually grew up in an obscure
suburb with an unpronounceable Welsh name (think of 'yydych' and
you'll get the idea), but Philadelphia was always my home city.
I rooted for the Eagles and the Phillies and mourned with the
rest of the city as they lost, and lost, and lost- year after
year.
A famous runner once said that there's something magical about
the streets of Philadelphia. I guess he's right, because I've
never run a marathon as fast as I did that year. I felt that the
city itself was gently pushing me to go faster, to run lighter
and more freely. When I ran past Independence Hall and the
Liberty Bell, I felt such joy. Here's where it all began- the
essential idea of human rights that was so powerfully
articulated by Thomas Jefferson in his great Declaration.
Philadelphia is a city of such stark contrasts- beautiful
skyscrapers next to cardboard shantytowns, gracious museums and
gardens sitting next to blocks and blocks of industrial fossils.
It's a strange, haunting place.
Philadelphia marathon watchers are so encouraging and kind. At
mile nineteen I slowed to a walk, exhausted and sad. I took an
energy bar and ate half of it and immediately felt strong again.
When I resumed running, a family of spectators roared with
approval. I smiled at them and they smiled back with such open
admiration for me.
The Philadelphia marathon was a wonderful chance for me to
connect with both my own past and my country's history. And I
was so happy to have had the opportunity to offer homage to my
home city, ever-remarkable in its understated beauty.
Morris Klein Philadelphia - USA