By: Eugenia Damron
Bob Hope said, “Unless you’re the lead dog, the view never changes”. As I was running the last three miles of the Decker Creek Half-Marathon Saturday I thought about the view from the back. Mr. Hope is wrong; the view from the back is different from what anyone else sees.
When you’re in the back, you get to hear the snippets of conversations as runners pass. People talking about their last run, the sale at Macy’s, or their child’s upcoming ball game. People just like you; only faster.
When you’re in the back, the bathrooms aren’t crowded, and the volunteers cheer loud as they hand you multiple drinks. They know your name, where you are from, and how hard you try; because your friends have told them to take care of you.
When you’re in the back the deer jump out, or just stand and feed. You get to hear the birds sing, and the babble of the creek. It’s quiet, except for your pounding heart and heavy breath.
In the back the trail holds the secrets of who eats gel, how far a runner carries their water cup, and other signs of runners’ habits. There are long sleeve shirts or jackets that have been shed, and sometimes articles that cause you to ponder.
When your last, everyone cheers when you finish, your friends or total strangers come back to run in with you; and everyone knows your name.
No one wants to be last; but the view from the back isn’t so bad.