The Marathon

Mark is thirty-eight and he works in an office in Chicago. He sits at a desk for nine hours a day. He hasn't played a sport since school. He hasn't run for twenty years, except for the bus.

Six months ago, something happened. His doctor looked at some numbers on a screen and said, "Mark, you need to move." The same evening, a friend sent him a message: "I have just signed up for the Chicago Marathon. Do you want to do it with me?" Mark wrote "yes" before he could think.

The first morning was terrible. He ran for four minutes and walked for twenty. His legs hurt for three days. But he went out again. Since that day, he has run every morning at six o'clock. He has run in the rain, in the snow and in the heat of July. He has bought three pairs of shoes. He has lost eight kilos. He has eaten a lot of bananas.

His colleagues have noticed. "You look different," his boss said last week. "I have been outside," said Mark.

Now the day is here. It is October, it is cold and sunny, and Mark is standing at the start with forty thousand people. His friend is next to him. "Have you ever done anything like this?" the friend asks. "Never," says Mark. "Me neither."

The race starts. Mark runs past the lake, past the river, past his office. At kilometer thirty his legs stop talking to him. At kilometer forty he cries a little.

Four hours and fifty minutes later, Mark crosses the line. Twenty years without running. Now he has run a marathon.