I'll take the water pail

So, I think I'm pulling myself out of the lottery for the New York City Marathon 2011 today.  "Gasp!  But WHY?  Oh, no, are you injured?"  Well, that sort of reaction is part of it.  And, it has nothing to do with an injury.

I also won't run the Boston Marathon again unless someone pays me; even then, I'm not really sure.  I only ran it in the first place after several years of people asking me why I HADN'T run it, since I qualified over and over.  I ran it to shut people up, mostly.

I won't run Chicago, or London, or Berlin...well, okay, maybe Berlin.  I miss the time I spent in that city immensely.  But, in general, no more "super marathons".  I'm over it. 

Any of the things I say here are not meant to diminish anyone else's experience or accomplishment - I think it's an incredible achievement for a person to finish any one of these races - no matter the time in which they complete the race.  And you will see me out there at any race my little legs can carry me to, cheering on those runners.

I just think, for me, the shine has worn off, and I'm starting to see these huge events for what they are.  If you're not an elite athlete going for the title or a place on the podium, these marathons are for the experience.  The crowds.  The prestige.  The street cred.  All of that is fine, and I totally get it.  But I think at this point, after running New York five times (Did I count that right?  It's a serious question...I can't count.), Boston once and Philadelphia once, I've gotten my fill of that experience.  I've had enough of the hype, the claustrophobia, the elbow-throwing and the organizational bullshit.  For the "privilege" of running one of these races, I pay a steep entry fee, battle crowds for days leading up to it, stand outside freezing for hours fighting just to use the bathroom before the race, and then get blasted out of the start, cold, elbow-to-elbow with everyone else, to begin "the experience of a lifetime."  Anymore that "experience" to me is not worth the price of becoming yet another number of the tens of thousands running.

The experience in the New Orleans Marathon this year was something different.  And not just because it was in the very best city in this country (go ahead and try to argue with me about that - I dare you).  I had my own race.  That's not to say I was alone, or the course was empty - there were at least 7,000 in the marathon; 9,000 in the half.  But it was different somehow.  People viewed this race as nothing - like NYC's bastard brother.  Like a foot race into town to fetch water in some podunk little town.  No one cared.  We were there to have fun and enjoy, support, and revel in this awesome place.  Ask me if I got what I paid for in New Orleans.  The answer is a hands down "yes".  And certainly not because the field was slower and easier to dominate.  Because the race meant something more than "Holy shit!  So many people are running and this is a huge international event!"  Because with each runner, there was money going back into the city.  With each spectator, people started to take notice.  And because, at the end of the day, the people of New Orleans made that a race to remember.  They don't know much about running, but they sure as hell know about support and celebration.  And they brought it.  All freakin' weekend.

So what IS next?  Well, I think I'll keep that to myself for a little while.  Truth is, I'm partly still deciding anyway.  But don't look for me in the crowds.  I'll be too busy fetching the water.