This Time of Year

For years I’ve kept a red and white “No Parking” sign from the Vermont City Marathon.  In January of 2005 I moved into my first apartment and it was there, taped in the window of the back door.  I had seen them before, lining the streets on Memorial Day weekend, but I stopped and took a closer look.  Its temporary paper date read May 25, 2003. 

In May of 2003 I had just returned home from college and had never participated in, or watched the VCM. Running a marathon was unfathomable to me, but when I found out my brother planned to run his first marathon, I had no doubt.  I hardly gave it a thought at all.  Running wasn’t my gig; I didn’t know much about it, but it didn’t take much thought to know that Nick would not fail. 

Now, when I find out someone is running a marathon (and especially their first marathon) I am impressed and happy for them.  It takes a commitment and an attitude of strength to both prepare and succeed on race day.  I feel prideful for them.

In 2003, I thought, “Oh, you’re running the marathon?  Cool.  That’s not for me.”

I’ve watched several marathons and seen many a familiar face battle through, most reaching the finish line, but I didn’t go in 2003.  I don’t know what I did that day, but I didn’t make it downtown.

To no one’s surprise, Nick finished the marathon.  He ran the 26.2 miles in a time of 2 hours 46 minutes and 21 seconds.  He came in 19^th overall, 22 minutes behind the winner.  He was the 5^th Vermonter to finish and a month after his 21^st birthday, finished 3^rd in his age group. 

I never asked him what it was like, never showered him in praise, and I wasn’t there to greet him at the finish.  I’m not even sure I was impressed; “Nick did well in the race” was not a story to me. 

Twelve days later I woke up and he was gone.