The
legend of Phidippedes has it that after victory in the plains of Marathon, the
said runner ran approximately 25 miles to Athens to announce the victory. His
announcement was his last.
Last
week (Nov 11) I ran the Athens marathon with several friends. There is a book
on WW2 called The Longest Day. Its on
the D-Day invasion of Europe. At the Athens marathon I ran into The Longest
Hill. At the top, my legs died. They totally rebelled and said, “Uh, you are
not doing this to us any longer.” The legs gave way at mile 20—something unusual
for me. But the experience was great. I’d do it again. I got food poisoning
before the trip to Europe. Ate at the wrong place at Kennedy Airport!
I fell
in love with the Greeks. I think I’ll adopt the Greek family I stayed with as
my own. They were wonderful.
(I write these posts then forget or just fail to put them up so I'm doing it all on one day)
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