and glittering in the air, and then alighting, as winged, on the other side.” It’s not running, but I include it for those interested in the wider literature of track and field since it has never been previously noted. More remarkable, it was Harry’s wedding day. I wouldn’t have risked it.

Not often feeling like a new-risen phoenix, I relate better to the glimpse of running given by the subtlest poet of the age, Thomas Gray, when he describes schoolboys riskily running out of bounds in his “Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College” (1742):

… And unknown regions dare descry: Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind,

And snatch a fearful joy.

We often see great runners on TV “snatch a fearful joy” near the finish of a marathon—the phrase is perfect for that moment when you are leading and the finish line comes in sight—but you know there’s somebody close behind you.

Pedestrians: The Early 1880s

The early races among running footmen mentioned by Webster slowly developed into the sport of pedestrianism, running and walking contests, usually long-distance match races or solo time trials against some target time.

The sport produced its first book in 1813, Walter Thom’s historical survey and coaching guide, Pedestrianism, which contains “An essay on training” taken mainly from the methods of the greatest ultra man of the era, Robert Barclay Allardice, Esquire, of Ury. It’s a major book historically. The legendary Captain Barclay is thought of as an ultra-distance walker, but Thom gives details of some fast shorter races, including a 56-second 440.

He accomplished “extraordinary feats of Pedestrianism” and also showed “intuitive judgment in training men to succeed in foot-races and pugilistic contests.” I take those phrases from a book that is more important from the literary viewpoint, the second volume of Sporting Anecdotes by Pierce Egan (1822), a collection of entertaining writings by the first significant sports journalist. (Egan’s Life in London, 1821, gave us two sports enthusiasts called Tom and Jerry, whose famous names have since been used elsewhere.)

Egan’s Anecdotes are amusing and varied, offering everything from a profile of the greatest hunting horsewoman of the time to a detailed account of a boa constrictor swallowing a goat—only marginally a sports event by our standards.

Those relating to running include an “Account of Highland Sports,” with a five-mile race over rough tracks and a comical report of a race for high betting stakes between one man running 200 yards and another covering 100 yards in a sack, in which “Almost directly the man in the sack fell down, and the other by some accident tumbled over him.” After much scrambling, the man in the sack wins the wager. The “bucks” and “Corinthians” of that time (sporty young gents) would bet on anything, even, another Egan anecdote shows, on two drops of water trickling down a windowpane. (The two drops merged into one, and all bets were off.)

ANTIQUE SPORTS REPORTING

One important section of Egan’s Anecdotes is given to a history of great walker/runners like Foster Powell and to a vintage series of longer track and road runs, from January to June 1818. These ranged from the “fastest running of a mile ever recorded,” four minutes 46 seconds on January 20 at Stratford, Essex, to some great solo and two-man road runs over 9 tol2 miles. Since I believe that good journalism is fully entitled to be called literature, here is one sample of the then wholly new form of sports reporting:

Wednesday afternoon, June 24, 1818, the Essex road was one continued scene of bustle and gaiety. . . . Rayner, whose fame as a runner was considered perfectly established, had undertaken to give Blumsell the extraordinary advantage of two minutes and a half at starting. . . . The capabilities of Blumsell the sporting world were no strangers to, from his having recently run nine miles through the streets of London and up Highgate Hill, also against the bad weather, in four minutes less than the hour. Still the speed of Rayner was so much valued as to overcome every other consideration. At half past seven o’clock, Blumsell appeared at the Sth mile stone, with only a very short pair of drawers on, and light halfboots, and started. Rayner was lightly clad, and when the two minutes and ahalf had elapsed, he set out to overtake Blumsell. .. . Instead of improving upon his adversary, Rayner had lost 46 seconds in the first 8 miles; shortly after this he turned giddy and fell in a ditch; but continued the contest. He, however, soon gave up the race. It is impossible to describe the long faces; the club [i.e., gamblers] was completely dished. Rayner appeared too fat; he perspired profusely, and his wind was rather touched. Blumsell was in the first order; he started with the swiftness of a greyhound, never flagged, and came in with the fleetness of a deer, amidst the shouts and applause of the spectators, having run 10 miles in 58 mins 56 secs. Blumsell was so little fatigued that he appeared at the Castle Tavern in the evening (Sporting Anecdotes, Vol. 2, 1822; slightly edited).

“Pedestrianism” covered competitive running and walking, but there were also increasing numbers of people walking for exercise and pleasure in Britain and America through the 19th century, including several major writers.

When John Clare, William Cowper, William Wordsworth, Samuel T. Coleridge, or Walt Whitman used a walk as the basis for a poem about their thoughts or things they encountered, they were doing something close to modern essays on the subject of, for instance, “my most unforgettable marathon.”

WHEN THE LADIES WALK

When Jane Austen shows that heroines like Elizabeth Bennet or Anne Elliot are willing to take an energetic walk, even over bad going, and to get healthily tired, she is establishing their personal superiority over those who are languidly obsessed by their own comfort or appearance, in a way entirely similar to the moral testing imposed by racing a marathon or in a book like Flanagan’s Run.

Walking is similarly a moral measure in George Eliot’s Middlemarch (18712) and George Meredith’s The Egoist (1879). For Whitman, it is a source of freedom and independence: “I inhale great draughts of space,/The east and the west are mine, and the north and the south are mine.”

It is also an important expression of women’s growing desire for the same freedom and independence, in Kate Chopin’s novel The Awakening (1899), Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s poem Aurora Leigh (1857), and in the Bronte sisters’ novels. There is even talk of women running when Caroline Helstone shows female rivalry in Charlotte Bronte’s Shirley (1849) by saying, “Do not fear that I shall not have breath to run as fast as you can possibly run, Shirley.”

Wordsworth wandering lonely as a cloud may not sound much like a runner, but he does when he writes of turning your steps “Up the tumultuous brook of Green-head Gill” and finding “in such bold ascent/The pastoral mountains front you, face to face” (“Michael”). He was estimated to have covered over 175,000 miles/280,000 kilometers, mostly over rough hilly terrain, in his lifetime’s walking, and is not to be underestimated.

In prose, William Hazlitt, Charles Dickens, Henry David Thoreau, Robert Louis Stevenson, and Leslie Stephen all wrote fine essays about walking that could equally apply to running. Stevenson, for instance, described “that fine intoxication that comes of much motion in the open air,” “the sense of physical wellbeing,” and the “delicious pains” of the tired body in the evening after a long outing (R.L. Stevenson, “Walking Tours,” 1881). Here, too, is the American nature writer John Burroughs writing about being a walker:

His pores are all open, his circulation is active, his digestion good. He is the only real traveler. He is not isolated but is at one with things. He knows

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the ground is alive; he feels the pulses of the wind, and reads the mute language of things. His senses are continually reporting messages to his mind. Wind, frost, rain, heat, cold are something to him. He is not merely a spectator of the panorama of nature, but a participator in it. He experiences the country he passes through—tastes it, feels it, absorbs it; the traveler in his fine carriage sees it merely (“The Exhilarations of the Road,” 1872; somewhat edited).

I once wrote about running in similar terms: “seizing the earth with your stride and the air with your lungs, processing those elements, and heat and water, too, into mastery of this most elemental motion—I know of no way to be more totally alive, more intimately in touch with the world.” I hadn’t heard of Burroughs then, and I was writing about fast cross-country running, but we were on the same lines.

Many of the 19th-century walkers would in our age have been running marathons and ultras. Dickens would have been sub-2:30 for sure—he regularly walked over 20 miles at night, at speeds none of his friends could stay with. Women’s running pioneers would have included hard walkers like Emily Bronte, Kate Chopin, Olive Schreiner, and Sarah Grand, one of whose women characters (in The Heavenly Twins, 1893) does exhausting speed-walks that were called “bursts.”

Not every writer was wholly serious about hard exercise, of course. Mark Twain/Samuel Clemens liked to disconcert journalists by insisting that they interview him during workouts. The New Zealand Herald reported breathlessly in 1895 that the famous visitor “took walking exercise while conversing.” But it was partly for show. When he staged a PR coup in 1874 by announcing that he was walking from Hartford, Connecticut, to Boston to deliver the manuscript of his first Mississippi narratives to the editor of The Atlantic, he didn’t actually make it. Sore and hobbling after walking 28 miles the first day, the resourceful Clemens cabled, “We have made thirty-five miles in less than five days. This demonstrates the thing can be done. Shall now finish by rail.” And he took the train.

“According to legend . . .” are the first words of almost every history of the marathon, leading to a usually vague version of the story of Pheidippides and his fatal run from the battlefield of Marathon to Athens with the news of victory.

The details of how the legend came about are rarely considered, though it’s a case study in how such stories grow from a tiny seed to a flourishing worldwide belief.

The marathon is also without parallel in being a major sports event that has entirely literary origins (just as the Baltimore Ravens are the world’s only major sport team to be named after a poem). The evidence of those origins is so sparse, fragmentary, and broken up by gaps and irrelevancies that reconstructing it is like trying to follow NBC’s coverage of an Olympic long-distance track final; but here, as plainly as I can put it, is the strange story.

It begins with the earliest major work of Greek prose, by a much-traveled writer known in English as Herodotus. His “Researches” or “Histories,” as he titled them on the outside of the roll of papyrus, tell of the rise of the Persian Empire and its wars with Greece between 500 Bc and 479 Bc and have earned him the title of the “Father of History.”

Herodotus was not born until after the Battle of Marathon in 490 Bc and was writing over 40 years later, so he collected information mainly from

ANDY YELENAK

ex-soldiers, mostly the more junior ones who were still alive. His account of the Battle of Marathon is embellished by things like a story of how the Greek general’s father had won a chariot race at Olympia, or the Greek defector who had a lurid dream the night before the battle, or the meeting between the running messenger Pheidippides and the god Pan, who complained that the Athenians were neglecting their worship of him. This is not, in other words, a work of rigorously documented fact, which makes it like much of our own history and journalism.

After overwhelming the Greek island of Eretria, a large Persian invasion force landed at Marathon, ready to attack Athens, 25 miles/40 kilometers away. Here are the extracts from Herodotus’s account relevant to the running messenger story. This translation keeps the familiar form “Pheidippides,” though some prefer “Philippides” or “Filippides” as transliteration of the Greek:

Before they left the city, the Athenian generals sent off a message to Sparta. The messenger was an Athenian named Pheidippides, a professional long-distance running messenger. According to the account he gave the Athenians on his return, Pheidippides met the god Pan on Mount Parthenium, above Tegea. Pan, he said, called him by name and told him to ask the Athenians why they paid him no attention, in spite of his friendliness toward them. . . . Pheidippides reached Sparta the day after he left Athens and delivered his message to the Spartan government. . . . The Spartans were willing to help… but said they could not take the field until the moon was full… (The Histories, Book 6, trans. Aubrey de Selincourt, 1954, Penguin, 1972).

RESULTS OF THE BATTLE

Then comes Hippias’s dream, a fairly detailed account of the battle and the casualty figures, almost certainly spin-doctored by the Athens Pentagon: 6,400 Persians killed, 192 Athenians.

That’s it.

Pheidippides ran 150 miles/240 kilometers over rough hilly ground from Athens to Sparta in probably around 30 hours, which is very good running but not impossible. He then ran back, reporting how he met Pan, as well as delivering the Spartans’ response to Athens’s request for help. There is no indication that he fought in the battle, no exhausted messenger carrying joyful news of victory to Athens, no heroic death. Instead, Herodotus says the whole Athenian army marched back “with all possible speed” because the Persian fleet “was on its way round Cape Sunium,” hoping to catch the city unprotected.

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The rest is speculation. For my money, the Pan story was to boost the troops’ morale when the news spread that the Spartans would not be there to help and provide some of the divine justification that is standard pre-battle issue for all armies.

To Herodotus, and to most people at the time, it was more impressive that the god Pan called to Pheidippides by name than that he ran to Sparta. As a “professional long-distance running messenger,” that was just his job (hemerodromos literally means “day runner”—someone who ran for a whole day). As for the run to Athens, a message would almost certainly be sent to warn the government that the angry enemy was on its way by sea, but a man tired from just running 300 miles is most unlikely to be chosen when they had a whole corps of messengers.

We have to wait 600 years for that part of the story to appear, in a different culture (Rome) and language (Latin), at a time when the past greatness of Greece was being romanticized. The earliest surviving Latin reference, in the Natural History by Pliny the Elder (died 79 Bc), is straightforward, mentioning Pheidippides’s run to Sparta as “a remarkable feat.”

REPORTS OF A DEATH

Then, about ap 110, comes the first mention of a run from Marathon to Athens and the messenger’s dramatic death, in the Moral Essays of Plutarch. Citing sources that have disappeared, Plutarch says that one historian attributed the run to Thersippus of Eroeadae but that “most historians” say it was Eucles “who ran in full armor, hot from the battle, and, bursting in at the doors of the first men of the State, could only say, ‘Hail! We are victorious’ and straightaway expired” (trans. Frank Cole Babbit, 1962). Suddenly we are in the realm of lurid fiction (“hot from battle,” “bursting in at the doors”) that the human mind finds much more enjoyable than facts. Translation can heighten these effects. Another version has Eucles “with his wounds reeking from the fight, and falling through the door.”

Thersippus or Eucles? Wounded or just exhausted? Bursting in or falling through the door? Authentic oral history passed down over 600 years or the work of some Roman romancer or PR agent for Greek tourism? Did someone die as he delivered the message, or are these stories as historically reliable as Shakespeare in Love and Braveheart? We shall never know, but the heavy odds are that it’s all invented.

And then matters get worse.

Another 60 or 70 years later, the satirical prose writer Lucian (who died about AD 200) was discussing a point of language, the use of “Rejoice!” as a greeting, and cited “the anecdote of the runner Pheidippides, who announced

the victory at Marathon … in these words: ‘Rejoice! We are victorious!’ And no sooner had he uttered them than he fell down dead . . .” (“Apology for a Mistake in Salutation’). It was just an example he thought of in passing. Lucian was obviously mixing up the two running stories from the Battle of Marathon and put Pheidippides into the “dropping dead” incident instead of Eucles or Thersippus. It happens all the time. My American father-in-law, with an excellent memory for history, used to talk about “King Alfred and the spider.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him he was mixing up Alfred of Wessex and the cakes with Robert Bruce of Scotland and the spider. He might have questioned my belief that Abraham Lincoln was shot in the back while crossing the Delaware River.

Returning close to fact, one last reference in the classical era came in a tourist travel book called Description of Greece, by Pausanius, about the same date as the Lucian. It retold the original run-to-Sparta story as found in Herodotus, with no hint of anybody running to Athens or dropping dead. But the seed was planted.

1,700 YEARS LATER

The seed lay dormant for another 1,700 years. In all the innumerable versions in English literature of Greek and Roman legends and history, from the revival of classical learning around 1400 until 1879, I know of no mention of either of the stories about Pheidippides. Herodotus, Plutarch, and Lucian were all wellknown and influential, of course, at a time when study of the classics was the basis of education, and in 1819 Lord Byron put into inspirational English poetry the Greeks’ view of their victory at Marathon as a symbol of liberty, at a time when Greece was under Turkish control:

The mountains look on Marathon

And Marathon looks on the sea;

And musing there an hour alone,

I dream’d that Greece might still be free. . . (Don Juan, 1819-24)

“Marathon became a magic word,” Byron wrote in another poem (Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, 1812-18), but outside Greece, he helped to make it one.

In 1878, the English poet Robert Browning was working on a book of short stories in verse drawn from various sources, called Dramatic Idyls (1879). A largely self-taught man of wide and diverse but not always thorough knowledge, Browning knew the Herodotus and the Lucian passages, and probably Plutarch, and decided to retell the story, or stories, of Pheidippides in dramatic, romantic style.

He “is apparently the first writer to combine the two stories,” says the best scholarly edition of Browning’s poems (edited by John Pettigrew). All the good details are there, often made more colorful than in his sources—the anxious message to Sparta, the leering Spartans looking for excuses, the meeting with “majestical Pan,” with the inventive addition that the goat-god promises to help the Athenian army in the battle.

Browning’s hero insists on fighting, too, “with our foremost” (for which there is no previous source); he runs to Athens, delivers the message in the English words that have become standard, “Rejoice, we conquer!” and drops dead. “Joy in his blood bursting his heart, he died—the bliss!”

And Browning was a good Victorian romantic, although his beloved wife Elizabeth Barrett was now dead. So, just as Maid Marian was turned into a romantic companion for Robin Hood at about this date, Browning gives Pheidippides the extra motive of hoping to “Marry a certain maid.” It’s not a great poem, with its Hollywood emotions and Browning’s odd, self-conscious mix of archaic and modern language, but it works well as a historical romance.

It works especially for our niche market. It is terrific as a running poem. I don’t know if Browning went to any “pedestrian” meets in the 1870s, or watched one of the early paper chases of Thames Hare and Hounds, or if he just ran up and down stairs every morning before he started writing, but he got it right.

The poetry has so much power and pace that it is difficult to grasp at first reading—it is urgent and breathless, it hurries and gasps, its pulsing, panting, almost syncopated rhythms catch the anxiety and onward speed of all the running.

Pheidippides runs as fast as fire running through a stubble field, and such images of burning and blazing recur and are built into the very movement of the verse. Words are left out, the sense is compressed, the grammar lurches. The lines, fragmented by colons and dashes and exclamation points, can sound broken-backed in their breathless lack of polish, but it’s almost what another poet of the time was calling “sprung rhythm,” breaking away from regular lines and rhymes to get the real dynamic of urgent movement. Metrically, it’s original and exciting work, and it’s a pity the poem has had so little attention from Browning scholars. (It almost never appears in selections of his work.) If it doesn’t work for you, run a hard 400 meters round the block and then try again.

SOME BREATHLESS POETRY

The whole poem is only four pages long, 120 lines, but here, to get you breathing hard, are some extracts:

“Run, Pheidippides, run and race, reach Sparta for aid! Persia has come, we are here, where is She?” Your command I obeyed,

Ran and raced like stubble, some field which a fire

runs through,

Was the space between city and city: two days, two

nights did I burn

Over the hills, under the dales, down pits and up peaks.

Into their midst I broke: breath served but for “Persia

has come!”. . .

Answer me quick, what help, what hand do you stretch

o’er destruction’s brink?

How,—when? No care for my limbs!—there’s lightning in all and some. . .

[The Spartans claim they cannot help yet.]

That sent a blaze through my blood; off, off and away

was I back,

—Not one word to waste, one look to lose on the false

and the vile!

Yet “O Gods of my land!” I cried, as each hillock and plain, Wood and stream, I knew, I named, rushing past them again, “Have ye kept faith, proved mindful of honours we paid you erewhile?”

Such my cry as, rapid, I ran over Parnes’ ridge;

Gully and gap I clambered and cleared till, sudden, a bar Jutted, a stoppage of stone against me, blocking the way. . . [There, “in the cool of a cleft,” waits Pan, who promises to help Athens.] … If Tran hitherto—

Be sure that, the rest of my journey, I ran no longer,

but flew.

Parnes to Athens—earth no more, the air was my road:

Here I am back. Praise Pan, we stand no more on the

razor’s edge…

[Offered any reward, Pheidippides asks to “fight… foremost… /Pound Persia to dust,” and then “Marry a certain maid, I know keeps faith to the brave.” ]

Unforeseeing one! Yes, he fought on the Marathon day:

So, when Persia was dust, all cried, “To Akropolis!

Run, Pheidippides, one race more! The meed is thy due! ‘Athens is saved, thank Pan,’ go shout!” He flung down

his shield,

Ran like fire once more: and the space ’twixt the Fennel-field

And Athens was stubble again, a field which a fire runs through,

Till in he broke: “Rejoice, we conquer through the clay,

Joy in his blood bursting his heart, he died—the bliss!

Like wine

Itis Browning who deserves credit for the story in its combined and heightened form. It is his version of the runner’s dying words that has survived— “Rejoice, we conquer!” rather than, say, “Hail! We are victorious.”

Presumably, it was Browning’s poem that Professor Michel Bréal had in mind when he wrote to the Athens Olympic committee in 1894 to propose “a race from Marathon” on the route of “the Greek warrior.” If Browning drew the story in this form from some 19th-century book of classical legends retold, nobody knows about it. I have searched so far without success. It’s still possible. Tales from Shakespeare by Charles and Mary Lamb was published in 1807, and similar simplified versions of classical stories were around, some for the new children’s market. It’s also possible that Bréal knew the story from a French version, though as a professor of languages and linguistics, his reading was international.

If Browning was truly the first to make a full story out of Lucian’s lapse of memory, he can have had no idea of the impact his poem would have. It transformed a sport (long-distance running) that in his day was little more than a seedy gambling activity. It gave a focus to an idealistic movement for international unity that had not yet been born (the revived Olympics). It led in time to one of the best expressions of the culture of the 20th- and 21st-century city, the big-city street race. It impacted for the good on many other things, from tourism to Greek nationalism to cardiology to outside broadcast technology to the status of women in East Africa, as well as millions of individual lives. Not many poems achieve as much.

SECONDARY SOURCES AND ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

H.A. Harris, Greek Athletes and Athletics (London, 1964).

John G. Kennedy, Tarahumara of the Sierra Madre (2nd ed., Pacific Grove, CA, 1996).

Peter Lovesey and Tom McNab, The Guide to British Track and Field Literature (London, 1969).

John Lucas, “A History of the Marathon Race,” in Journal of Sports History.

Peter Nabokov, Indian Running: Native American History and Tradition (Santa Fe, 1981).

Montague Shearman, Athletics and Football (in later editions Athletics) (London, 1887).

Walter Thom, Pedestrianism: or, an account of the performances of celebrated pedestrians during the last and present century (Aberdeen, 1813).

Anne D. Wallace, Walking, Literature, and English Culture. The Origins and Uses of Peripatetic in the Nineteenth Century (Oxford, 1993).

Personal advice is warmly acknowledged from Professor David Carnegie on Webster and Professor David Norton on the English Bible; both are my colleagues at Victoria University in Wellington, New Zealand, and international experts in those fields. Some material in earlier form was used in my script for the television documentary A Hero’s Journey: The Story of the Marathon (Cultural Horizons, Athens & Wellington, 1992). esi

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Roger Robinson RUNNING IN LITERATURE Mi 97

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Marriage on the Run

If Opposites Attract, What Do Two of a Kind Do?

L® MOST couples filled with unabashed love, before we got married we promised each other the world. Five years later, through our commitment torunning and each other, we’ re making our way toward fulfilling that promise.

Our marriage started out on the run . . . literally. We got married April 15, 1996. To most people that’s Tax Day. To most runners, that was the 100th Boston Marathon.

It all started one year earlier. We were running in Indianapolis in the world’s largest half-marathon. The race takes runners from downtown Indy to the Brickyard, home of the Indianapolis 500. Runners do a loop around the track, and then they head back to downtown. The halfway point of the race is the line of bricks inlaid in the race track, which is the start/finish line of the Indy 500. The bricks are remnants of the original “Brickyard” racetrack.

It was at that point, on the yard of bricks, that my boyfriend Ed stopped, stooped down to one knee, pulled a ring out of the little pocket in his running shorts, and popped the question. After checking my split time, I stopped my watch, looked into his eyes, and answered, “Yes!”

We were no longer going to be just running partners but lifelong partners. As runners, it was easy for us to see the parallels between a marriage and a marathon. When you think about it, they’re alike in many ways. They both take strength, time, and commitment. They are both filled with peaks and valleys, struggles and joy.

With the 100th Boston coming up, we knew it would be something very special and memorable, and we wanted to be part of it as we celebrated the beginning of our new life together.

BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS, 1996

Planning this marathon/marriage wasn’t easy. We knew we wanted the ceremony to take place on the course somewhere near the middle of the marathon.

We drove the route and at the 14.6-mile mark stood a lovely, old brownstone building, Wellesley Hills Congregational Church. Then came the tricky part: convincing the minister that we weren’t crazy or making a mockery of marriage but that we were committed to going down that long road together.

With understanding and a hint of amusement, Reverend Craig Davis agreed to perform the ceremony. We gathered in Hopkinton with the other runners, all excited about the big race. Obviously, we were excited, too, but for us, this race took on so much more meaning.

We were both remarkably calm on the run toward Wellesley. I was dressed in a white tennis skirt and white top, Ed in black shorts and a white top. About a half mile before the church, we ducked into a flower shop, where members of our wedding party awaited us. We quickly changed clothes. I put on the top half of a wedding dress that my mom made for me to go with my white tennis skirt. Ed put on the top half of a tuxedo to go with his black shorts. I combed my hair and put ona touch of makeup (Yes, I know. I was running .. . but hey, these were wedding pictures we would have forever!), and we were off. Together Ed and I, our bridesmaids and groomsmen, and my father all ran down Washington Street to the church,

h ..’ After getting married at the 14.6-mile point of

where our guests were walt- +h 190th Boston Marathon in 1996, Denise and

ing. . Ed are back out on the course for a personal best It was a beautiful wed- as a married couple.

ding, with friends, family,

and a string quartet—oh, and of course, a bride and groom about to face their first obstacle as man and wife: Heartbreak Hill. We managed to climb that hill together and finish the race. No, it wasn’t a record-breaking time, but it was definitely a personal best as a married couple.

That was just the beginning of going the distance together. After a wedding like that, it was only appropriate that we continue to run together step by step, and we do. Every year we celebrate our wedding anniversary by running a marathon together.

(COURTESY OF DENISE DILLON

LONDON, UNITED KINGDOM, 1997

What do you do for an encore after tying the knot in the world’s most prestigious marathon?

You go across The Pond to find one of the world’s largest and most entertaining marathons.

Ed and [headed to the United Kingdom for the Flora London Marathon. The trip was filled with many pleasant surprises. First and foremost, the weather— in anormally rain-sodden city in the spring we had a day of cloudless blue skies and temperatures around 60 degrees. We didn’t encounter a single problem in this well-organized race . . . even with more than 25,000 runners filling the streets of London. It was here we decided that there’s no better way to experience a city’s charms than by running through it.

The race began in Greenwich and went by the Woolwich Artillery Barracks and past the famous Cutty Sark. We ran across the Tower Bridge and past the Canary Wharf and Tower of London (where we stopped and had our picture taken with a real-life Beefeater). The course followed the River Thames to Parliament Square. It was like taking one of those big red bus tours, only much, much better. Every step of the way crowds lined the course, and we were entertained by brass bands, bagpipes, and music coming from English pubs.

As much fun as we had during the first 25 miles, taking pictures and playing tourists as we ran, the last mile was sheer excitement. Just after the 25-mile mark we ran past Big Ben and toward the homestretch. The crowd cheered as runners made their way down Birdcage Walk past Buckingham Palace at mile 26, and we finished in the mall. We think we caught a glimpse of the queen waving as we went by, but we can’t be sure— still, we dubbed it aroyal finish.

Their first anniversary marathon brought Denise and Ed to the Flora London Marathon.

COURTESY OF DENISE DILLON

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SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA, 1998

When we started thinking about our second anniversary and which marathon we wanted to run, we learned of the inaugural Rock ’n’ Roll Marathon. We had always heard about San Diego’s perfect weather, pristine beaches, and superb scenery. In addition, the hype surrounding the marathon of bands along the course was something we couldn’t pass up.

Unfortunately, neither could many, many others. Apparently, race organizers did not realize how good of a job they were doing in the public relations department. In no way were they prepared for the onslaught of marathoners. There were problems from the beginning. We got off to a late start .. . 38 minutes late. Nothing like a crowd of well-hydrated runners corralled up, waiting for arace to start… and it’s late. It was a hot day, and they ran out of water fast. Many of those in the four-hour plus category went miles without water. Not a good thing, considering there is very little shade along the course.

While San Diego is an absolutely beautiful city, the course ran along some unspectacular sites, including a typical expressway for several miles. Oh, and as for those bands every mile as promised . . . that didn’t happen. Maybe a band every four miles . . . and even then, sometimes they were on break.

Of course it wasn’t all bad, and it probably wouldn’t have been bad at all if our expectations hadn’t been raised so high by prerace publicity. On a positive note, nearly 6,000 of the runners were members of Team in Training. Together they raised $15,600,000 for the Leukemia Society of America.

After the race, once we were all rested and showered, a huge outdoor concert was held in Balboa Park. It was a very pleasant evening and gave us all a chance to dance (albeit stiffly and cautiously) some of that lactic acid out of our legs. As marathon run- s ners, we realize not every race is going to be perfect and you have to take the good with the bad, or at least see some goodinthe 2¥ bad. Apparently, this be- ~ ing the inaugural race, it

Ed and Denise celebrated their second wedding anniversary by joining the onslaught of marathoners for the inaugural Rock ‘n’ Roll 4 Marathon in 1998.

was a learning year, and we understand that since then the race has improved in every aspect.

BIG SUR, CALIFORNIA, 1999

We had seen pictures of the stunning vistas, not to mention the hills, of the Big Sur International Marathon. For our third anniversary we headed to California and a chance to experience it for ourselves.

Big Sur is a point-to-point race, so we were bussed from the finish at Carmel to the start. Riding the bus to Big Sur in the predawn hours, we felt lucky that it was too dark to see the huge hills we’d be climbing. Surrounded by redwood and eucalyptus trees and birds chirping in the background, the crisp, clean combination of mountain and sea air filled our lungs and was invigorating.

As we stood milling about, waiting for the race to begin, we were pleasantly surprised when the race organizers released a flock of doves, signifying the start of the race. There could not have been a more appropriate beginning to a marathon that makes you feel as though you’re running along the edge of the Earth while running | – 9 through and with nature : at its most sublime.

Along the course, the promised hills did not disappoint us. As we ran along Highway 1, the long inclines seemed to go for miles. But the hills that hammered away at our weary legs were worth it; the glorious ocean views truly surpassed our expectations. As for crowds, there were virtually none along much of the course, but there was entertainment: every kind of music, from orchestras to children’s groups, helped the miles zip by.

Of course we had to stop at the halfway point for the traditional picture with Jonathan Lee, who plays the grand piano on the fantastic cliffs above the mighty Pacific.

As we got closer to Carmel, the crowds started forming, pushing us to the finish. This marathon is definitely about the great outdoors and all of its

Denise and Ed chose the majestic beauty and challenge of the Big Sur International Marathon for their third anniversary marathon.

majestic beauty. All those pictures you see of the runners making their way up long hills along the edge of the Pacific are true to life—but you have to experience it yourself to make the visions they create come alive.

SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA, 2000

For our fourth anniversary, we traveled Down Under to Sydney, Australia, for the Host City Marathon. Sydney was staging a test marathon for the upcoming Summer Olympics. It was held two weeks before our actual anniversary date, and we just couldn’t pass up the chance to visit Australia and run on what would become the Olympic marathon course.

Roughly 5,500 runners had the same idea of running along the same streets the world’s best marathoners would follow in just five months. The course is point to point, with a very early start. There was no fanfare for the start, just a countdown, and we were off.

A few miles into the race, we ran across Australia’s landmark Harbour Bridge, passing the world-famous Sydney Opera House, which looks like giant shells rising from the water. This was the most famous site on the course.

We then went by the Royal Botanic Gardens, followed by a lap

In 2000, Ed and Denise headed Down Under for their anniversary race and participated in the Host City Marathon : : in Sydney, Australia, which was a test through the beautiful Centennial marathon for the then-upcoming Sum- Park. The first part of the marathon mer Olympic marathon. was quite flat and scenic and interesting. Running through Royal Cross (the red light district) at a time of the morning when most people were waking up to their first cup of coffee, we were amazed to see men and women wearing nothing but black leather (and in some cases, very little of it) lining up to go into bars. And we runners often think we’re pretty weird being out on the streets first thing in the morning running in rain, sleet, snow, or hail. Once we passed the halfway point, it was a whole different race. The flat turned into hills, some of them quite challenging. And the scenery turned rather