We left my brother at the starting line. He gave Trudy his sweatpants, and we agreed that we’d wait at mile 6 on the outside of the curve to take his jacket. It was cold, but it was going to be a nice day, and anyway he runs in snow and ice and 18 degree weather where he comes from. We figured he’s want to get rid of it.
Near mile 6 just north of the river, the route came back into downtown from the south and turned to the west. We found a place on the outside of the curve so we could get a good view of the approaching runners. And we waited.
As we stood there, more spectators arrived, but we were in front and had a perfect view of the turn … perfect except for that photographer who decided he could stand out in the middle of the street because the view we had was just the view he wanted.
A lady walked up behind us. She was holding a toddler and had a 4 year old standing beside her who we there to cheer for her daddy. They couldn’t see. I told them to stand in front of me. No, the woman said, but I insisted and pointed out that I could see just fine over the head of the 4 year old. So even though we weren’t in front anymore, we still had a good view of the turn.
Then another lady walked up behind us. She was evidently there to get a shot of her daughter, who was coming by at any moment. I stepped back to give her some room. As it turned out, her daughter didn’t come by for quite some time and when she did, the lady was too confused by the onrush of runners and the crowd that she not only missed the photograph but also missed her daughter entirely.
And then a man walked up holding one daughter and trying to console another daughter who was having a breakdown beside him because she wouldn’t be able to see her mommy. I stepped back and told them to stand in front of us. The man said no, but I insisted, and the girl felt better when she realized that she was in the front of the crowd.
So now we were obviously not in the front. And I had a 6 foot 6 inch man standing in front of me holding a daughter. Still, I could see the runners coming around the turn if I moved back and forth to see around the tall man holding his younger daughter. And anyway the sky was blue. And the sun was shining. And the crowd was shouting. And Trudy and I were ringing our bells and cheering.
And then I saw Ben coming around the outside of the turn.
“There he is!” I shouted to Trudy.
And an amazing thing happened. The people in front of me looked back and stepped aside to give us a better view.
“There’s my brother!” Trudy and I shouted his name as loud as we could. “Ben! Ben!!”
He saw us jumping up and down. He had his red jacket in his hands (he was clearly plenty warm), and I held up a hand to catch it as he tossed it.
“Your banana!” I shouted.
The crowd around us was watching as I was cheering and shouting to him from back in the line with a yellow banana in my other hand.
“Your banana! Take your banana!”
He had other things on his mind and continued running without looking back.
“But your banana!!” I shouted in a mock dejected tone. “His banana,” I shouted (now to the crowd). “Ohhh, he didn’t want his banana!”
The crowd laughed. Trudy and I surrendered our space in the crowd to some folks behind us. And we started walking back to the finish line.