As I make my way across the country and the New York area talking to readers of A Race Like No Other, the journey has indeed become the destination. Every book talk immerses me back into the Marathon, and inspires me anew.
Not only do I get to share the stories that I spent a year developing, stories of runners close to my heart, I get to hear new tales and meet new people. And that’s been the truly fun part of this whole promotional process.
Runners love to talk. I think it’s because of the lonely, pent-up hours spent training listening to their footsteps or the complaints of their body parts.
Because this is such an introspective sport, it seems that the second marathoners are asked why they run or how they finished in their most recent race, the stories just spin out from their soles.
Two talks and two runner-readers – in Houston and in Philadelphia – helped construct a gratifying story. In the religiously strict and quiet section of Williamsburg, Brooklyn this year (where residents have always been less than enthusiastic, and barely participate), they said a rabbi handed out kosher electrolyte replacement fluid to runners. The drink is also known as Powerade.
In talks in Houston, Boulder and Denver in the last month, runners have attended readings wearing their 2008 medal. In New York, one came to a talk I gave during the Expo wearing a rather well-worn 1983 marathon t-shirt.
I learned from another talk that one woman actually ducked into a porta-potty to use a breast-pump while running the race less than six months after giving birth. Not even Paula Radcliffe, the British world-record holder, did that in the 10 months since she gave birth in 2007 (good thing she didn’t, since she won).
One woman in Denver (in her 50s) said she had run close to 100 marathons. Ouch.
One man had run the 1976 race and returned in 2008, with his wife. In Boulder, she was the one wearing the medal.
In Bay Ridge, Brooklyn I heard about Matthew Long from the neighbor of his family, who came to relay his inspirational story and talk of her own burgeoning running. Long, a New York firefighter, who was a rescuer at the World Trade Center on 9-11, nearly died when he was run over on bicycle during the New York transit strike.
My New York Times colleague Corey Kilgannon detailed his painful recovery (40 surgeries later) in an excellent story a few days later, just as this new reader runner was planning to hold a marathon party in Long’s honor.
I have been to more than a dozen venues in the last six weeks since the book was published, from independent stores like the Corner Bookstore in Manhattan, Bookmark and the Tattered Cover in Denver; at Jewish Community Centers like in Houston, at chains like Borders in Cleveland and, most recently, Barnes & Noble in Philadelphia in front of old friends.
No matter how many people (I don’t already know) show, I enjoy the discussion, the reading, the questions I am asked, and most of all, the answers I get from other runners.
I love to hear how important the marathon was – and is — to their lives, and how, even in the retelling of their story, their eyes practically run around the room.
Jessica was the first to arrive for my signing at Jack Rabbit Sports in Manhattan and we spent more than a half-hour talking about her first marathon — 9 days before the actual race. Turned out she had a triumphant run and emailed me that week to tell me how, after finishing both the race and the book, she truly understood the power of her achievement. And the last line of the book.
An hour before I was to give my talk in Philadelphia, I received a similar email from one of the runners I featured, Dave Obelkevich, who, along with Tucker Andersen, has run every New York City Marathon since 1976.
Obelkevich was a joyful participant in my Corner Bookstore reading in Manhattan last month, sharing his passion and obsession for the sport that has taken him from Staten Island to Durban, South Africa where he runs the (90K) Comrades Marathon. In both races, he makes sure to meet people and swap stories on the run. With every step, he turns a page.
The New York City Marathon thankfully ends at 26.2 miles, but the inspiration never stops.
Tags: Corner Bookstore, New York City Marathon, Tattered Cover
