Cold first.
On Monday my friend, Tim, who famously—or it should be—once ran a full marathon in the morning and played violin in a symphony orchestra that evening, ran the Boston Marathon. This was not his first Boston, but it may have been his and everyone else’s most unpleasant. Cold, rain, wind. I watched on television and the leaders were hypothermic at the end, shivering uncontrollably after the finish.
Under such adverse conditions the times were slow and American runners did unexpectedly well, an American woman winning for the first time in thirty-three years and seven of the top ten women and six of the top ten men being American.
Tim finished in just under four hours in a race that the women’s winner later said that early on she doubted she could complete the course. I’m sure many, if not all the other runners must have had such doubts.
Four cold, dreary hours pushing your body through pain.
I’m proud of Tim.
There is much to be said for self-discipline, perseverance, and determination.
Of warm, Kent and Audrey, who live near Pensacola, Florida, and restore small boats of which they have an ever changing fleet of about twenty, sent me these photos after my plaint yesterday for warm.
Warm looks good.
Very, very good.
Very, very good.
Thanks, Kent and Audrey.
