back

Etiquette for the average marathon runner

I’ve volunteered at the Philadelphia Marathon for more years than I care to remember. Each time, I promise it will be my last. Seeing people put themselves through this punishing distance of 26.2 miles always leaves me with strong feelings—good and bad—about what marathons have become, who chooses to run them and what runners do out on the course…

Runners, drop your cups. Please. Don’t hold onto them until the water stop is well behind you. If you do, the volunteers who have to pick them up will be far behind you, too.

You think nothing of tossing every other thing imaginable—mittens, shirts, hats, fanny packs, knee braces—on the road. Why can’t you drop your water cup in the vicinity of a trash can?

There is one thing you should never throw away: your used and gooey energy gel packets. They really are disgusting when left on the road for others to either slip on or scrape up. Ditto your half-eaten or barely nibbled energy bars. You’ve carried them along with you until needed, so take a bite and tuck the rest or the empty wrapper back in your pocket.

And what made you think you could eat a whole energy bar at a shot anyway? That’s not refueling, that’s lunching. Cut it up. Put the pieces in a baggie. And reach for morsels when you need them. But don’t open a fresh bar, eat a few molecules and then toss it when you decide you can’t stomach the consistency.

If you saw the movie Caddyshack and it’s legendary Baby-Ruth-in-the-swimming-pool scene, then you know what these bars look like on the road. When volunteers have to pick up even a few of those, they can be grossed out until next year.

Better yet, why not eat Jelly Belly sports beans? I don’t know how well they work, but anything as cute and convenient as a jelly bean can’t be all bad.

If you sign on to do a marathon, please run the race. Don’t talk on the phone. Don’t stop to take pictures. Don’t bring your dog. And please don’t juggle. Yes, keeping five balls in the air while running takes talent, but it’s annoyingly cheeky. So are guys who wear pink tutus, evening gowns or Spiderman outfits. You may have started out looking charming, but after 10 miles or so, the joke gets stale.

What never gets old is seeing your friends and family on the sidelines, cheering your efforts. Some get really clever with signs. I’m guessing that “Geaux Amanda” was for a visiting runner from French-speaking Canada. Another favorite: “Haul ass, Tammy Lynn. Errr…I mean, go faster.”

On what turned out to be a bone-chilling, drizzly marathon day this year, I watched for the blue T-shirted runners, signaling another “Students Run Philly Style” teen was tackling his or her first marathon. These are all kids who have turned to running to help them overcome the struggles of what can be a very tough life.

I saw them come by alone and in small groups. Some ran the whole thing, others interspersed walking breaks. All seemed destined to finish.

As one of the slower Philly Style teens came to the water stop at mile 25, she was walking. I offered her some refreshments to carry her through, but she shook her head and didn’t stop. I called after her: “This is your marathon. This is a big deal.” And she started running again. Not fast, but not tortured, either. I don’t know if she ran the rest of the way, but it certainly looked like she could.

If she applies that same determination to her journey through life, she will be capable of just about anything. And that’s the whole point of the program, which uses running to help kids imagine and accomplish goals well beyond their dreams.

If these kids can run a marathon, I shouldn’t complain about picking up a few (tens of thousands of) water cups. But please runners, don’t hold onto those cups too long. Just sip and drop, and I’ll happily clean up behind you.

* * *
Originally published in the News of Delaware County, November 28-December 4, 2007. Reprinted with permission.

# # #