A 2,500-Year-Old Bad Idea: The Athens Marathon
The airport. We are about to board a plane for Greece, where I will be running in the world’s oldest marathon. In fact, that’s the very town the race starts in: Marathon, Greece.
running
Start Together, Finish Together: Love Is Easy, Everything Else is Hard.
3:42 a.m.—Three hours before sunrise. Sarah and I are awake. Sort of. We begin our marathon route in the hamlet of Manitou Springs, a town where everything is organic, even the Subaru exhaust.
We start our journey alone, in front of the little courthouse, the official starting line of the Pikes Peak Marathon. Before we begin running, we hug each other tightly.
“We’re doing this,” we say before we sprint off into the silent streets.
Artisan Forgiveness: Running Up Dad’s Mountain
Morning in Manitou Springs, Colorado. My sister and I have a rental cabin located near the base of Pikes Peak. I am sitting on a picnic table outside our cabin, drinking crappy instant coffee, finishing my third chocolate bar.
My sister brought the chocolate. It’s artisan chocolate. She is asleep in the cabin right now. She’s not going to be happy when she awakes and finds out I’ve eaten all her fancy chocolate. I will undergo one of her famous improvised gender reassignment operations.
Chasing the Ghost of Pikes Peak: We Meet at the Summit
My dad was a runner. He started just before I was born. One day after work, they say he came home and decided it was time to quit smoking and start jogging. He stabbed out his smoldering cigarette and he tore off running, right then. He finished the cigarette later that evening.