Upbeat bystanders rooted for runners enthusiastically and marathoners dug deep into their reserves of courage and determination, but the strongest passions were in other lanes.
Gridlocked drivers expressed their pain with long horn blasts, curses and growls of complaint. Police were everywhere, so violence in the vicinity of the race was not an option. A few blocks away, though, it was a different matter. Fuming escapees were making up for lost time and the driving behaviour was just plain eye-popping.
One of my favourite soundbites, from a guy who was standing outside his car along with others who were doing the same:
“Some of those runners don’t even COMPETE! They are WALKING!”
I think his idea was that they should pick it up a little and hustle out of his way. This was at the 37 km mark, where most of us would be dead. Sunday road closures were scheduled to continue for hours more. Runners’ paces had nothing to do with the long delays. Strangely, the situation was PLANNED.
Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront Marathon… nice day for a walk.