So this was year number three that I did this: I went to the NY Marathon and cheered on the runners.
It all started in 2013. I had a friendly coworker running the marathon and I met up with her around Mile 2 or 3 on my neighborhood. And to help her see me in the crowd, I wore a Santa hat.
So as I was there looking for my friend, I naturally saw thousands of others pass, they often wear shirts with their names and/or countries on it. So in my world, I cheer them on. I did write about it in my blog last year too.
This year, I knew of two people running the race. I did tell one where I’d be in a FB comment, that I’d be again in my Santa hat but we aren’t that close, didn’t see each other every day to hammer it in.
I see this kinda like a big sporting event where I scream and cheer on the athletes. I get into it. Yelling their names and countries, encouraging them, lightening the mood. I really enjoy it. A captive, welcoming audience. Take a look:
I posted the video on FB and IG. People call me goofball and a clown. I suppose I am. My sister has called me goofball my entire life. Many times I’ve suspected my goofiness has gotten in the way with success with women in one way or another. It’s not sexy.
It’s so deeply ingrained, like automatic reactions. I grew up watching a lot of sitcoms on TV and comedy movies. Those reactions and lines just come naturally. Yes I know they’re not sexy AND it’s really hard to change. To be a serious, intense man. That’s difficult for me. Probably too my detriment.
Except with Mona.
My girlfriend occasionally says “You’re a clown, but you’re MY clown.” I feel free to be me around her… and she likes it. I get by one being “adorable.” Not exactly what I prefer, but I’ll take it.
Good thing we have great bedroom chemistry.