Stop Carnage Avoid Marathons – Lightly Braised Turnip


One Way To Stop The Carnage: Stop Cheering For Marathoners


Published April 15, 2013


Please allow me to start this commentary by pointing out that in no way do I condone the horrible attack at the Boston Marathon on April 15.  I abhor all violence.  Sometimes, however, a tragic event can give rise to a a slender reed of hope for a better future.

Question: How do you stop a bomb from killing people?  Simple.  You either move the bomb or you move the people away from the bomb.  When it comes to marathons, obviously we cannot ban all potential terrorists from attending marathons.  Also, we cannot provide top security for 26 miles of roadway.  Since we can’t stop the bombs, this leaves us with one option: move the people.  It’s a solution that solves more problems than chaos and dismemberment.

If there is one thing marathoners all have in common it is their indefatigable ability to annoy us all.  You know those types.  They come in different categories.  They are the careerist, NPR-listening, small-chested mother neglecting her five-year-olds to go on Sunday runs.  They are the aging physician who always smells funny and wears shorts that embarrass you.  They are the yuppie feministas with a drawer full of sports bras trying to best the male participants.  They are the man that tapes down his nipples to avoid abrasion.

We see through these detestable people.  Their motives are clear.  They failed in athletics in their younger days and now try to impress us all by running a long way.  Once and for all, we are not impressed.  Anyone can run a marathon if they wanted to waste enough time.  You are not proving manhood or womanhood.  Instead, you are proving your own insecurity. 

Why not just buy a “hog” and make lots of noise trying to look thuggish in motorcycle apparel?  For the women, why not get a boob job?  It will be less taxing on your waning femininity than training and running a marathon.

Now on April 15, 2013, we have a new reason to shun marathoners: they endanger our lives.  It was bad enough when we had to feign interest in their pathetic self-congratulatory aerobic Bar Mitzvahs.  Now we must endanger our lives doing it!  

At this day in age, there is safety in dispersal.  State fairs, Olympics, sporting events in general all come with inherent risk.  Marathoners must let go of their own sense of self-importance and insist that family members stay at home.  We do not need to witness our husbands running down a crowded street looking like he just checked out of the Hanoi Hilton or our wives dragging their feet having sloughed off every ounce of femininity and looking like teenage boys coming out of a wet sauna.  Cover up already.  The neighbors are here, and this is embarrassing.

Let’s make a deal with our marathon running brethren.  You can run your marathons, but spare us your suicide pact.  Have someone else snap a photo as you walk across the finish line with 5,000 unathletic souls.  We’ll pretend to care… after you shower.

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