Fuck terrorism, let’s talk about baked goods.
No, that doesn’t work. I just deleted my sentence about heightened security, the 24-hour news cycle, and eroding civil rights. That didn’t work either.
Let’s talk about marathons. Sports bore me. I don’t care, I can’t keep track, la la la, let me go read my book. However, Dr. Cougar is a runner. I grew up shouting “Go, [cute nickname redacted]!” from the sidelines of the track. I played in the sandpit with my nephew (who is just 5 years younger than me), and we threw ourselves on the mat that catches pole jumpers.
I kind of like marathons. At the Boston marathon, college kids (and adults) have the day off and sit on Beacon Street, drinking, cheering, and handing out brownies. At 5 and 6 o’clock, when the stragglers are panting their way through, there are still a few people cheering them on long after the elite runners have gone off to their hotels. (What do elite runners do after the marathon? Collapse? Eat a cheeseburger?)
Read this from the Washington Post. “If you are losing faith in human nature, go out and watch a marathon.”