Intro: I'm not a "Love it or Leave it" person, as my sense of democracy and being a responsible citizen means staying informed and engaging in always trying to improve your country. I'd never thought about running the MCM as I didn't think I'd fit in very well. I assumed that it was for military types and DAR/NRA members only. And it is huge, bigger than Boston, meaning a whole lot of hoopla early in the morning just to get to the startline. (I prefer rolling out of bed and sauntering up with about 15 minutes to spare.) Well, as I delicately clean the crow feathers from my keyboard, let me say this is a unique event and a race worth doing. While it is titled "The Marine Corps Marathon," it is known as "The People's Marathon," which evokes Marx, not marksmen. And it truly is that, a race for the people and by the Marines. That's a powerful combination. To say that it is exceptionally well organized is redundant, plus, you'd expect that, after 32 years (this was the 33rd running) and having the Marines in charge. At the expo, I got an inkling of the unique sort of organization I am writing about here. I was finished at the packet pickup [oh, apropos of nothing, there was a $15 discount on the Seattle RnR so I bit.] and started drifting toward the door from which I'd entered, when this very sharp young marine called out: "MA'AM! THIS IS NOT AN EXIT, MA'AM! EXITS ARE ON YOUR LEFT, MA'AM!" ....with very clear arm motions to illustrate. I'd never been admonished in such a respectful fashion before. Even though I was being redirected, I felt sort of honored. Every single other Marine I met made me just so proud to be an American. When so much in the news about us right now is depressing, the weekend seems as if it were a bright oasis, with even the sun dawning for us on race day after a dreary, rainy Saturday. We gathered at the parking lot to do the usual pre-race things, watch the sun come up, and begin to get a sense of how many people actually run this race. The UPS drop bag trucks were attended by Marines, bright, friendly, urging us to have good races and wishing us "Good Luck!" As you walk to the starting line, which is at the Pentagon, you see things that choke you up: the wheelchair athletes, many of whom are wounded veterans; person after person running with photos of comrades who were killed in action, dedicating their races to these young men and women, grey haired vets, back again (the Marines have a term for those who have run every single MCM: "Ground Pounders") and the petite, blonde, 20-something in a pink hoodie, with her sign attached firmly to her back: "proud war widow." The prayers, the fly-overs, the start: it's easy to stay emotional. Then you set forth on a tour of our Nation's Capitol that keeps your heart beating strong. All around, you hear other languages. Many people come from other countries to run this race. It is stirring to look around and feel proud that these guests are seeing a piece of America at its best, especially this year. Marines in fatigues are at every waterstop, along with volunteers, and you can bet the stops are clearly marked and usually on bith sides of the street, staggered for crowd maintenance. You stop and try and thank a Marine and they just correct you and thank you for running. When you finally get down the Mall and the familiar monuments, you're about to head for the last 10K. Tired, sure, but you are part of something that manages to transcend the ordinary confines of a marathon on an autumn Sunday. You've had time to reflect upon what it means to be an American. You have been reminded of whatever pieces of our nation's history that are important to you, as you pass by various buildings, streets and monuments. You consider this year's election as you pass the White House, and the history we are making right now. All the people who stood up for and too many who had to die for the ideals that make us a free country. People dedicated to achieving equal access to justice for everyone. You keep going, and the crowds keep exhorting you to stay the course. You do, and are greeted by a row of Marine Corps Lieutenants, standing straight, tall, and holding finisher medals in their hands. One of them is for you. As soon as it is draped on your shoulders, along with the mylar blanket, someone guides you over to the Iwo Jima Memorial so that a photographer can snap your picture in front of it. Then you head on out to walk out the kinks and continue contemplating what just happened. You know, I never thought I'd run this one. After signing up, I figured it was "good" to do it once. Now, I can't wait to go back. grins, A You know, stats at this one are an afterthought, but here goes: 3:30:11, 158/7147 women; 1219/18273 overall; 6/424 AG

I have always thought that this would be one of those marathons that would be especially memorable and filled with emotion and you confirmed it Amy. If I were able to travel for races, this would likely rank in my Top 5 of races I would consider traveling to. Thanks for this report and congratulations on a race well done!

Wow. What an inspiring race report. The emotional aspect of this race really came through in your report. It sounds like an awesome experience. Off topic, but it just occurred to me: I was wondering if 50-staters usually include a race in D.C. as well?

Here's a RR for the archives. Thanks.

Awesome race report. You almost had me in tears just picturing your view as you "pounded ground"! Well done. Fran

Wow, Aamos, that was a moving report. I got choked up reading about this fantastic event and your take on it. Also, you ran a mighty impressive race. Congratulations. TomS

Wow, Aamos, that was a moving report. I got choked up reading about this fantastic event and your take on it. Also, you ran a mighty impressive race. Congratulations. TomS

Ditto that! Well done!! now where's my klenex...

Hi Amy, Congrats on a fantastic race! And thank you, thank you for one of the most beautiful, well-written "from the heart" race reports I've ever had the true pleasure of reading. Jay