Dear John: A Marathon Challenge for John Kelso

In 2006, I ran my first marathon here in Austin, driving all the way up to the Freescale campus on icy roads, just to run/stagger back south in temperatures that never got above freezing. For some reason, months later, I decided to do it again, but this time in Chicago.

As much as I was in awe of the city, and of the experience of running 26.2 miles with 46,000 people, what really impacted me were the people of Chicago. Over a million spectators poured off the sidewalks throughout the race, and the cheering was sometimes deafening. In the days after, bus drivers, old women, guys with lunch pails and hardhats, would see the sore, stiff walk, a marathon cap or shirt, and they would smile and ask if we ran the marathon. They’d talk to and congratulate us. It was clear they took great pride in the event.

Impressed, I came home to Austin, and started volunteering with the Austin Marathon and Half Marathon. Austin was 750,000 to Chicago’s 2.8 million. Our marathon and half marathon together brought 14,000 people to the start line, to Chicago’s 46,000 all taking on the full marathon. But I believed we should be just as proud of our city and marathon as Chicago.

In the past four years, my faith has taken some hits. I’ve learned that not everyone feels the same way about the place of the marathon, or even other races or public events in our city. There are those who feel entitled to zero inconvenience, any greater good be damned.

Last February, my faith took two big hits from you, Mr. Kelso, in your two scathing columns about the marathon (one of which can no longer be found on the archives - here's the other). I took them personally not so much as a marathon participant and volunteer, but because they ran so contrary to my pride in this city and its people, pride that you yourself are somewhat responsible for.

I grew up with your column. You and Mike Kelley were consistent sources of fun reading when I was a kid. Your style, sense of humor and sense of community all impacted who I am today and how I see Austin. But I fear that in increasingly embracing your role as curmudgeon, you’ve lost the thread.

I’m aware and grateful that Austinites make sacrifices for the events that make this city more than an address line. I don’t take those sacrifices for granted, and the people that make the Austin Marathon and Half Marathon happen don’t, either. They live here, they drive here, and they love this city. They work hard to minimize the negative impact, and to maximize the positive impact by seeking true compromise and cooperation in all Austin event planning.

There’s no way, however, to take the impact to zero, except to quit the event altogether. But if I never run or work for the event again, I wouldn’t consider that a solution I’d want for Austin, and I’m not alone. It would be a mistake to believe that your columns, Mr. Kelso, voiced some majority view – that Austinites don’t believe that the vibrancy and excellence of our community is worth reasonable balancing against our convenience. I get much more input proving otherwise.

I get it from the inconvenienced people living on the (very few) fully-closed streets, that stand out on their lawns drinking coffee and offering encouragement, families sitting out on the lawn watching and cheering, and guys leaning on their trucks in driveways with their stereos cranked.

I get it from the churches on the course whose inconvenienced parishioners are out on the course Sunday morning handing out orange slices, truly taking “WWJD” to heart.

I get it from the inconvenienced people sitting in lines at closed intersections, who pump up their stereos and give the thumbs-up, or who roll down their windows so their kids can wave and cheer for the runners.

I am ashamed that I need reminding, sometimes, that these people are the source of my faith in my Austin – our Austin, Mr. Kelso. And, they are supportive not only out of courtesy, but because they recognize something in the runners. They see friends, neighbors, and guests. They see people challenging themselves, running for causes, running to prove something, to remember someone, to celebrate their own survival. They see youngsters, and people well into their eighties. They see blind and wheelchair-bound participants. They know there are lawyers and waitresses, politicians and mechanics. They know that there are 280 soldiers running a “shadow” Austin Marathon in Al-Asad, Iraq. They see themselves, and who they aspire to be, and they are proud.

So, Mr. Kelso, I’d like to extend you an offer, or maybe a challenge. We’ll have a spot for you at the finish line this Valentine’s Day, draping finisher medals around people who complete the half marathon and marathon. Maybe you can talk to some of them and see the event from their side. Maybe you can talk to some of the spectators, or the people along the course that take pride in the event.

You’ll be reminded that the people of our Austin are out there running or cheering or maybe just understanding that our inconvenience is sometimes worthwhile for all of us. I would be anxious to read what you have to say then, because you have long been part of the consciousness of this city and its people, and these are all your people, too.

For my fellow Austinites, thank you in advance for supporting what we believe is your Austin Marathon and Half Marathon. We’d love it if you come out to support the runners this Valentine’s Day, but if you can’t, we do want to make your day as convenient as possible. So, go to http://www.youraustinmarathon.com/course for closure and alternative route information. Or, if you have specific questions, post them in the comments below, and I’ll be happy to help.