Ruminations of a Red Dirt Hussy

November 20, 2011

Marathon, shmarathon

Filed under: Blogroll — Vadasmaker @ 11:40 am
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Here’s the deal: I get up with every intention of going to Sunday School. I lie on the couch too long and decide, okay, I’ll go to church instead. This is important because I’m a Congregationalist, and we have one shot a week to see and be seen. Well, we do. That doesn’t mean we don’t have other reasons for being there. But in general, we don’t have evening services, so it’s go on Sunday or don’t go at all.

So I get up, fly up the stairs, throw on something I realize too late is a little frayed, throw on a jacket to cover it up, and I’m out the door in plenty of time. I get a quarter of a mile, and I see traffic backed up further than that. I live near downtown, so I don’t have all that many options to get out if a road is blocked. I sit five minutes, and—the horror! It’s the Route 66 Marathon. There are hundreds of runners. And they’re not that fast, at least not when you’re sitting in backed up traffic waiting for them to get by.

So I, along with numerous other drivers, cut through the parking lot of a county building because there’s another exit on the other side of it. Blocked. So I go north, drive to a street about a mile from the first exit. Blocked. East. Blocked.

So at the last place I try—blocked– I roll down my window to talk to the police officer directing traffic. We have a whole batch of rookies just out of the academy, and this must have been one, because he’s about nine, cute little thing.

So I say, “Seriously? I mean, are you kidding me? There’s no way out of downtown?”

Poor guy. His ears redden even more.

“No, ma’am. Not right now, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am.” I don’t even give him the stink-eye for calling me “ma’am.” Three times. But hey. When your students start telling you you remind them of their grandmother (followed by, “And she’s a beautiful woman, don’t get me wrong), instead of leaving inappropriate comments regarding my appearance on, you have to accept some things. And I do. Really.

I storm home, so mad I’m almost hyperventilating. I stomp up the stairs (hard to do in spike heels), and the air is blue with cursing. I kid you not. It swirls around my head like smoke at a poker game. I change clothes, flinging them every which where, and get it pretty much out of my system. Except for this blog, but it has to go somewhere.

I have nothing against runners or bikers—I used to do both—but honestly, we have miles and miles and miles of beautiful trails, and maybe they aren’t all adjacent to route 66, but put up some signs. It can be route 66 in spirit, if not in actuality. Pretend, people!

I don’t know who determines the course and decides what to block off, but have mercy! It can’t be City Hall, which has come together only to make us the laughingstock of Oklahoma, so it must be people like me, only organized. And I can forgive them. But is it too much to ask them to block off streets that don’t lead to expressways and thoroughfares? Or to cut the marathons, street shows, festivals and whatnot down to maybe a dozen a year?

Ok. Now it’s out of my system. It was too cold to go to church anyway.


1 Comment »

  1. Sorry to tell you I was one of those runners….so was Mary Cantrell. HOWEVER, we only ran the half marathon, so we did not run the route that would have blocked your area. Thoughtful of us, wasn’t it? 🙂


    Comment by Pam K. — November 21, 2011 @ 12:11 pm | Reply

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