Today we ran a marathon together because David is the best, and dreams come true. It felt like when you are five, and you’ve built a fort out of chairs and blankets. You want to show your mom what you’ve made. To your delight, she doesn’t just sit outside of it but crawls in to enjoy it with you, from the inside. That’s what David did. He came inside my fort of distance running and delighted in it with me. It was wonderful, and he was outstanding.
We ran the MetroPCS Dallas Marathon, which goes from downtown Dallas, through Highland Park, around White Rock Lake, and back. The race began at 8 a.m. with a releasing of the doves.
Actually, the doves were pigeons. They were fleeing the scene, agitated by our mass exodus: majestic pigeons emblazoning the occasion with significance and symbolism, providing us with palpable imagery of forward progress in downtown Dallas—taking flight as we did, dodging the Texas-shaped confetti, running through a long hall of port-a-potties, as we also did. It was very beautiful. It was bucolic.
Not to sound like a librarian, but marathons are noisier than ultras. There were drums, bands, clapping, and people talk-yelling. You are never alone. (This is not an existential claim.) And Darth Vader was standing next to bagpipes.
There was a Darth Vader.
He was standing next to bagpipes.
I almost missed him because he seemed natural in the crowd, alongside a banana-girl and Spiderman.
The miles ticked by. It was very fun. We talked a lot. I asked David if my mascara was running. He said no, but it was a trick question because my whole self was running, eye lashes included, and I wasn’t wearing any mascara. I liked having someone to talk to. One time, late in an ultra, marking a decline in cognitive lucidity, I invented apple juice. This apple is so delicious. If only there were some way to extract its fluid so that I would not have to chew. And no one was there to tell me that it already existed. It was neat to have conversation while we ran in stride, dropping Gatorade cups on each other’s sneakers and dodging other runners.
When you finish, you wear aluminum foil blankets similar in texture to the wrappers that Pop Tarts and other snack foods come in. Can we have a moment of silence for the Twinkie?
I wanted to get David’s perspective as a first-time marathoner and include it here, but he is writing a paper. Therefore, I created a Mad Libs and have his responses recorded below, wholly undoctored.
I, David, confirm that this Mad Lib accurately captures the substance of my experience in the Dallas
(your name) (town you grew up in)
To summarize my first marathon, it is the most Sabrina event I have ever encountered. I count it among
(synonym for best)
my favorite things, including reading books and Sabrina. My wife, Sabrina, said that it would be fun,
(something you love) (name of other person in this room)
and it was inarguably the best. My favorite part of the race was White Rock. I had wonderful company
(antonym for horrible) (part of the race) (synonym for awesome)
and enjoyed the release of mockingbirds at the start. Will I be back to run another? Yes, I’d like to run
(type of bird)
these for eternity because long runs are probably a lot like heaven.
(synonym for forever)
–David Little, first time marathoner and sold for “eternity” (an official quote)
It's been a great day. I've got an awesome husband.