I met Alex and Anna before 10 yesterday morning so we'd be sure to see the elite runners go by. We hung out in front of this band for a while, but realized that the runners couldn't hear us cheering for them and moved to a quieter stretch of Manhattan Ave.
I kept trying to get a decent picture of the singer's awesome hat — there are cut-out eye holes as well as visuals of eyes — but I think he thought I was just terribly impressed by his supercool Brooklyn rockstar self. This is probably the best shot of the hat (and of him being pleased with himself):
I just love marathon day. Thousands of people pushing themselves to their limits just because and thousands and thousands of complete strangers coming out to cheer them on. I love all the pure, nonironic cheering, especially for the amputee runners and the wheelchair athletes and the blind/otherwise handicapped runners. I love that people write their names on their shirts so you can call them out personally to cheer them on. I love the smile or thumbs up or thanks you get back. I loved the guy who wrote, "Joanne, will you marry me?" on his shirt. I loved everyone who runs in a costume. I really loved the husband of a husband and wife team who came back to us after we cheered for them and told us that his wife is 79 and he's 85. And they're doing a fucking marathon. Love them. Love it all. Faith in the essential goodness of humanity: restored for one year.*
And of course, this being Greenpoint, which the NY mag blog recently called "the most charmingly strange hood in all of New York City," there was a random man in a tutu.
*I really, really hope I still feel this way after the election results come in tomorrow night. I'll be casting my vote for Obama early and biting my nails the rest of the day.