Even for maligned marathon, half-full glass close at hand
If the Cubs could hit with men on base, the clear failings of this year's marathon would have been relegated to a front-page footnote.
For the purposes of this column, I should note from the outset that I am a "glass half full" kind of a guy. In fact, I may be criticized fairly for being happy that the glass holds any water at all -- and really happy if it contains a little beer. I am far more likely to marvel at the sweetness in life than to mourn its lack of volume. By rights, such a character should make me a natural Cub fan. That is not the case. I prefer the White Sox, probably because of a separate contrarian streak that may be one factor enabling me to survive in a profession where cynicism and life's bitterness are much more on display than its sweetness. More to the point at the moment, it likely colors my competing roles as participant and as news man in assessing the 2007 LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon.
The combination of these roles has left me with a profound curiosity regarding this year's controversial race and led to some observations that may be useful to you in assessing not just this controversy but any.
Observation No. 1: If the Cubs could hit with men on base into something other than a double play, the clear failings of this year's marathon would have been relegated to a front-page footnote on Monday. Of course, the first-ever canceling of the race and the death of a racer would be news, but I suspect Chicagoans would have been more engaged in Lou Piniella's moves in a playoff Game 4 than by some whiners who chose to try to run more than 26 miles on a day when they knew temperatures would be in the high 80s. This was, after all, not the first time the event has experienced tragedy. Alas, news value is a relative term.
Observation No. 2: What is this thing about apologies? In the first place, unless they're about to go to jail, almost no one apologizes for anything these days out of fear that saying "sorry" somehow acknowledges guilt that a sharp trial attorney will turn into a multi-million-dollar settlement. In the second, apologies are faint salve for wrongdoing. An apology isn't that hard to offer, but its meaning is often overrated.
Observation No. 3: I've learned something about what it must be like to be one of the people involved in situations we write about. I've seen and read runners quoted who have devastating stories to tell about Sunday's race. Their stories, though, are not my story. I saw the things they saw, was angered by some of the things that angered them and was frustrated by some things that have not been reported at all -- in particular, the misinformation runners received on the course after the race was "canceled." Yet, experiencing it and completing the course with my wife remains one of the most enjoyable memories of my life. For all the event's mistakes and disappointments, it was a great day.
Many runners remember this marathon for its heat and humidity and occasional scarcity of water. I remember it for the hundreds of people in neighborhoods throughout the city who turned out to cheer runners on, the amateur dance troupes, broom brigades and drum corps that turned out to entertain them as they loped past, the scores of people who turned hoses on them and opened the faucets at their homes to let them get a much-needed drink. What a great city we live in, I thought at times, that has such a spirit in it. At times, Sunday, I could have killed, figuratively speaking of course, for a half-full glass of cold water. It's interesting to realize now, in spite of all I'm reading and seeing, that I had a half-full glass all along.
It's a different perspective worth remembering not just as you read stories about the 2007 Chicago Marathon, but also as you follow accounts of almost any news event.