I lied. Two days ago I briefly described the ‘feet on fire’ episode in my life, i.e., the final block or two of the Boston Marathon, and said “I don’t think I was smilin’!”
Not only did I squeeze out a smile (you have to look really close at the last finish line photo below), but I raised my hands, waved a Canadian flag and sported a clinched fist.
Exciting times, I must admit, and not only for me.
Though I believe no pictures exist to prove this final tale from Boston, 2005 (If they do, they are extremely rare! And I’d like to buy a copy for my ‘rogues gallery’.), about 15 minutes after crossing the finish line, I stripped naked behind a parked car in order to change into dry clothes.
I moved very quickly, even faster than my final kick to the finish, and saw no one watching me as I tugged my Boston T-shirt over my sticky shoulders. However, after I peeled off race shorts and started to pull on fresh underwear I heard a stirring round of applause from very close at hand.
What the heck!? I looked left and right and saw no one.
“Nice butt!” a woman’s voice declared from above and behind.
["Really. I'm smiling! And shouting for a medic with a Guinness!"]
I turned quickly, looked up, and saw a crowd of marathon spectators on a second-floor apartment balcony. I could think of nothing better to do, so I saluted the crowd and enjoyed the last laugh.
[Photos - Boston Marathon Association]
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