I am not a runner.
In fact, it hurts.
Large parts of me, the whole of which is itself getting larger as I age, are located between my knees and stomach.
The result is that, while some are designed to run, I am not.
I have, however, a lot of admiration for runners.
And an especial admiration for those who complete marathons.
America today is in desperate shape. We are being run by a mad man narcissist accurately described by insiders working for him as self-absorbed, uninformed, inattentive, incoherent and cruel. He governs by whim if he governs at all. He abhors truth. He will not or cannot read and routinely violates the law or tells others to do so. Says Anonymous, the senior insider who penned the famous 2018 op-ed "I Am Part of the Resistance Inside the Trump Administration" and has now written the about to be published "A Warning": "He stumbles, slurs, gets confused, is easily irritated, and has trouble synthesizing information, not occasionally but with regularity."
How did this happen?
The answer is that 62 million Americans, strategically located, voted for him and 40% of the country still supports him. The sexist pussy-grabbing and transparent racism? Ignored. The nod to so-called "fine people" among the Nazis in Charlottesville? Forgotten by those who heard it, fake news to those who saw it reported. The unconstitutional emoluments rolling in from foreigners? Elitist nonsense. Impeachment for trying to enlist Ukraine to get dirt on the Bidens? A coup. And the repeated, pathological lying? Actually believed.
And if not believed, then at least forgiven.
Trump world is not stupid.
The most ardent Trumpers think people like me think people like them are stupid.
But I don't.
I think they are angry.
All. The. Time.
The anger is on display most clearly at his rallies. They routinely dissolve into vitriolic threats against opponents in general and any reporters covering the event in particular. The anger is also on display in the hatred his supporters visit upon the government. Even when the government is helping them. How else to explain the otherwise insanity of the "keep your government hands off my Medicare" types abhorring the very hand that created Medicare in the first place. Or the banana-republic chants of "lock her up."
I may be wrong . . .
But I do not think there are many marathoners in Trump world.
Marathoners are individualists but not narcissists. Narcissists expect recognition without achievement. They exaggerate their talents. They fantasize about their success, their power, their brilliance, their beauty. They lack empathy.
Marathoners are recognized after they achieve. They do not exaggerate, they demonstrate. They endure but do not insult. If there is fantasized brilliance or beauty or power in them, it's impossible to find in the sweat stained pain you can observe close up on their faces at mile 20.
The work is hard.
And they do it.
All of it.
They do not delegate it or avoid it.
The 26.2 miles on the actual day is preceded by months of training, managed increments of longer distances. By the time they run the actual marathon, they've pretty much run a few in practice beforehand.
Sometimes you can spot them early in the morning.
Solitary figures training for the big day, pounding the pavement in search of . . .
What?
I think it's themselves.
Or their selfs, those inner beings that give us the courage to recognize our limits while trying to exceed them.
Which is exactly what our country needs now.
In the millions.
I have known a number of marathoners and have admired four of them. One I married. Two I raised. The last is my soon-to-be daughter-in-law, who ran the New York City Marathon last week.
She grew up in Florida where she was raised and educated. When she graduated from college, she moved alone to Pittsburgh and thereafter, and again alone, to New York. She embraces difference and has no fear. I thinks she got that from her parents and family. And from her inner self. The one on display last Sunday. The one that ran to raise money for a children's charity.
She has three Dads, two of whom made the trip to New York to watch in awe as she ran last Sunday, the third cheering from Tampa; one Mom, who tracked her daughter mile by mile on Facebook; a sister, who now thinks her sibling a "badass"; a brother-in-law, whose job qualifies him as one; a nephew marathoner-in-waiting (if his speed crawling last summer was any indication); and . . .
A very lucky boyfriend.
The boyfriend's Dad thinks she's pretty cool too.
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