I’m almost willing to give up being a registered runner for being a registered volunteer at races. Seriously. You are thanked, you are treated so well, you are fed, and the best part? You fill your own bucket with all that cheering, encouragement and loooove you’re showering on other people.
I truly adored seeing all those runners giving 110% in the three waves of half marathon starters this morning. There were the stunningly fit rock stars who just bloody well lead the pack. There were the groups of buddies, and the solitary loners pushing through and the pairs of men and women soldiering on. There were a couple of older men and ladies running who would undoubtedly kick my ass. Some runners just stuck out due to their appearance: the guy in the Superman t-shirt, the ladies in the matching pink jackets, the woman who ran like a prancing pony.
We cheered and hollered and boosted morale as best we could. The four of us at my station were in a lucky spot – we got to see all the runners four times each, as we were close to the turnaround point plus the finish line turn off. The weather was nothing near “hypothermic” at all and we stood in the sun, virtually and literally.
It’s an interesting perspective to put on a pair of volunteer shoes in a place where you’re typically on the other side, and see where those sneakers take you.