A Marathon and More by J.C. Laird (books to read this summer .TXT) đź“–
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the finish line came into sight, surrounded by brightly colored flags and masses of spectators and supporters; cheering crowds lined both sides of the route. I forced myself into a finishing sprint, “dashing” across the finish line in arms raised, victorious triumph. I walked…well, wobbled through the finish area, race officials asking if I needed assistance—I declined—then taking off the bottom half of my race bib to record my finishing place, my time 3:50:11.
Suddenly, my panting, slightly unsteady body was bolstered by Marsha, who placed one of those silvery, light-weight space age blankets provided by the race organizers, around my shoulders. She circled her arm around my waist to steady me, and I draped my arm over her shoulder for the same reason. We both knew better than to let me sit or lie down, my legs would have cramped up immediately.
We walked around, leaning on each other, until my legs stopped trembling, her expression wavering between a smile and a look of concern. Finally, when she was certain I wasn’t going to keel over, she asked, “You did it. How are you feeling; are you okay?”
I just grinned stupidly and nodded.
Another minute or so passed. With her arm still around my waist, she rested her head against me. “So what now, oh great marathoner?”
I felt good. I felt like laughing again. “Home, I want something to eat, a lot of something. A long, hot soak in the bathtub. Maybe, one of your special back and leg rubs. Then, early to bed.”
Marsha looked away, smiling coyly. “Well, at least that last part fits in with my birthday plans for you.”
Suddenly, my panting, slightly unsteady body was bolstered by Marsha, who placed one of those silvery, light-weight space age blankets provided by the race organizers, around my shoulders. She circled her arm around my waist to steady me, and I draped my arm over her shoulder for the same reason. We both knew better than to let me sit or lie down, my legs would have cramped up immediately.
We walked around, leaning on each other, until my legs stopped trembling, her expression wavering between a smile and a look of concern. Finally, when she was certain I wasn’t going to keel over, she asked, “You did it. How are you feeling; are you okay?”
I just grinned stupidly and nodded.
Another minute or so passed. With her arm still around my waist, she rested her head against me. “So what now, oh great marathoner?”
I felt good. I felt like laughing again. “Home, I want something to eat, a lot of something. A long, hot soak in the bathtub. Maybe, one of your special back and leg rubs. Then, early to bed.”
Marsha looked away, smiling coyly. “Well, at least that last part fits in with my birthday plans for you.”
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So, I accomplished my goal, my personal gift for my fortieth birthday, a marathon. But, as I’m sure you realize by now, my most valuable gift had been by my side and with me from the very beginning. You may accomplish great things, but they’re so much better if they can be shared.
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Text: John C. Laird
Images: istockphoto.com
Editing: Alexandra Laird
Publication Date: 03-31-2012
All Rights Reserved
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