This is the half marathon approaching the Chinatown arch. The sound was uncanny — the muffled slap of thousands of sneakers, not much talking, the drumming, and the honking of the vuvuzela.

The vuvuzela? Maybe the vuvuzela should have stayed in South Africa. One of them sounds kind of cool, but please, no more than one!

I didn’t know there’d be so many runners. It was pretty thrilling, in a wacky human mass-gathering sort of way. That so many people would gather together to do such a thing.

Emotionally it’s hard to resist, but then I can’t help thinking how weird it is that we’ve worked so hard to make everything as effortless as possible, with our cars and trains and airplanes and computers and labour-saving devices, to the point where now we have to make up difficult tasks for ourselves to do — like running long distances — just so our bodies won’t rot away from inactivity.

We drive our cars to the gym for a workout. What a bunch of dopes we are!

Then I wondered how a tribe of paleolithic hunter-gatherers would make out in the marathon. First they’d probably think it was silly. “What is it we’re chasing?” they’d want to know. “Is it good to eat?” But I bet they’d outstrip all of us when it came to running a mere 26 miles.

Here’s a pace bunny. Don’t eat the bunny!

Oh, I liked it. It was thrilling. I think it’s great that they’ve changed the course this year so the runners pass through neighbourhoods like Chinatown, Little Italy, and Hintonburg. I’m a lot more likely to show up for something that’s going on right outside my door!

Pic 810
Shoes

May 29, 2010

Two years ago:
Pic 472
Dandelion

May 29, 2009

Three years:
Pic 136
Light

May 29, 2008

On the Laurier bridge.

I’m not really a race fan. To me it’s one of those public displays of virtue, like weddings and graduation ceremonies, that are supposed to keep societies feeling all warm and snuggly. I usually stay away from that kind of stuff.

Not that I would have been running anyway. But lots of people spend the day cheering on the participants. My friend Zoom really likes race weekend. And this kind of event is specially intended for families.

What’s the matter with me? Let’s face it, I’m a poor sport. I’m that guy creeping around at the edges of society saying nay to everything.

It can be a hard job slinking around in the margins like Gollum, but really, somebody has to do it. Otherwise we could be living in Pepperland or a prison planet or something, and we wouldn’t even know it. Or that place where The Prisoner lived. Remember The Prisoner? Or the Truman show. Or Barrhaven.

I also didn’t go to the Glebe Garage Sale. I didn’t need anything.

I went last year. This is a picture of a violin player that I took then. This is a rerun.

Later I took a picture of another violin player at Westfest. (Another rerun.)

I like that picture. I always wished I had taken it after I started having “Pics of the day,” so it could be one. Now it is.

Here is the first part of my series from last year about visiting Westfest.

Bye for now!