How could I forget this?
Sunday was the Beirut Marathon. One of our ACS staff, Alex from UNC, was running on a relay team, and it just so happened that the race course ran on the road in front of my apartment building! There were 5K, 10K, and 42K races with staggered starts, but Alex's relay began at 7 a.m. Had to see his blond head go by!
On Saturday red tape was strung between trees and poles down our road... "Beirut Marathon"... "Remove your vehicle by midnight tonight, or it will be towed." Our street is a one-way road, but VERY busy, and always lined with parked cars on both sides. What about that old wreck, I asked myself. Everyone on our road knows about the old car parked on the curb with 4 flat tires, and so filthy its color is unknown. Saw it on my first walk, my first day, and there it has remained. I predicted that the tow truck would be busy.
Set my alarm for 6 a.m., giving me time to wake up and check email before the race, then hopped in bed about 10 p.m. Within the hour, police sirens were blaring, along with every conceivable siren variation: Blasting Beeps, Earsplitting octaves, Screaming slides. The point? Reminding car owners in these tall buildings, "Come down to the street and move your cars!" For the first time I couldn't tell I HAD windows. The noise was piercing and crazy making. I put on my headphones and began to watch "Intouchables". Sirens stopped about 30 minutes later. WHEW! I looked outside and saw many cars still parked along the curb; the flat duster among them. Looks like they'll have to tow.
At 11 p.m. I climbed back into bed.
Moments later, it seemed, I was awakened by the same racket of sirens blaring on the street below; this time at midnight. I returned to the movie for another 40 minutes. Finally the noise stopped and I got back into bed, sure the worst was over.
Wrong! At 2 a.m. the sirens started up again. Oh My Gosh! I texted Charlene, "Enjoying the night music?" Her reply, "%#*&$ NO!" This time I covered my head with the pillow. All this for 4 parked cars? It didn't make sense!!! The noise must have stopped because the next thing I knew my alarm was calling, "It's 6 o'clock a.m., Time to get up!" I stepped outside to see the street empty, the old duster gone. The sky was black and threatening. If only the race could end BEFORE the storm? I went in to start the coffee, would need it this morning.
Got a Skype call from Liz. I took "her" outside with me, via ipad, as a motorcycle brigade went by, followed by a herd of paraplegic racers lying on stretch bicycles using hand pedals. What a sight! "Magnifique! Formidable!" I yelled from the 4th floor. No one else seemed to be yelling at that point, but heads looked up with big smiles! It was just about 7 when Charlene came to the door. We stood on the deck with "Liz", watching more of these amazing athletes pedal by. At 7 there was a lot of booming in the distance; starting guns? The next moment, lightning bolted across the sky, there was a gigantic crash of thunder; and the rain began in torrents. Charlene and I stood outside as long as we could. "Liz, we have to go inside!!" Just then I had to pause as about 8 to 12 front runners, all Kenyans, squished by. Felt like I was watching the Olympics through a curtain of water! Now we had to go in because the rain was bouncing off the handrails and everything was getting soaked, including my ipad.
For the next 10 minutes we stayed inside and had a lively 3-way conversation, Liz propped up on the coffee table. It was remarkable, and fun. Charlene retold her version of the night's siren experience and we all had a good laugh. By then I realized I'd missed Alex and the faster runners. We went back on the balcony to cheer on the runners still going by, still raining. By now there was lots of cheering and yelling, and Thumbs Up came our way.
When Charlene left, I climbed back into bed; so sleepy. Thunder and Lightning continued to rock the building. I was glad to be on the 4th floor, and contemplated what it would be like to run in soaking wet shoes and socks... blisters was all I could imagine.
Thunder and lightning continued all that day and through the night. By Monday we had reached a true calm; not a stir of a breeze. Every leaf was green and shiny. The buildings even appeared "clean" in spite of their rusty edges. It was a quiet Monday morning.
Alex told me his relay team came in 4th. "There were over 30,000 runners", he said. The internet said 33,370. At my class morning meeting I learned that 3 of my kids earned participation medals, 2 were kept home due to thunder and lightning, and one left the race early with cold feet and hands. Incredible! The Lebanese wouldn't consider canceling a race due to thunder and lightning, even for soccer games, The Show Must Go On! What a Show it was!
Sunday was the Beirut Marathon. One of our ACS staff, Alex from UNC, was running on a relay team, and it just so happened that the race course ran on the road in front of my apartment building! There were 5K, 10K, and 42K races with staggered starts, but Alex's relay began at 7 a.m. Had to see his blond head go by!
On Saturday red tape was strung between trees and poles down our road... "Beirut Marathon"... "Remove your vehicle by midnight tonight, or it will be towed." Our street is a one-way road, but VERY busy, and always lined with parked cars on both sides. What about that old wreck, I asked myself. Everyone on our road knows about the old car parked on the curb with 4 flat tires, and so filthy its color is unknown. Saw it on my first walk, my first day, and there it has remained. I predicted that the tow truck would be busy.
Set my alarm for 6 a.m., giving me time to wake up and check email before the race, then hopped in bed about 10 p.m. Within the hour, police sirens were blaring, along with every conceivable siren variation: Blasting Beeps, Earsplitting octaves, Screaming slides. The point? Reminding car owners in these tall buildings, "Come down to the street and move your cars!" For the first time I couldn't tell I HAD windows. The noise was piercing and crazy making. I put on my headphones and began to watch "Intouchables". Sirens stopped about 30 minutes later. WHEW! I looked outside and saw many cars still parked along the curb; the flat duster among them. Looks like they'll have to tow.
At 11 p.m. I climbed back into bed.
Moments later, it seemed, I was awakened by the same racket of sirens blaring on the street below; this time at midnight. I returned to the movie for another 40 minutes. Finally the noise stopped and I got back into bed, sure the worst was over.
Wrong! At 2 a.m. the sirens started up again. Oh My Gosh! I texted Charlene, "Enjoying the night music?" Her reply, "%#*&$ NO!" This time I covered my head with the pillow. All this for 4 parked cars? It didn't make sense!!! The noise must have stopped because the next thing I knew my alarm was calling, "It's 6 o'clock a.m., Time to get up!" I stepped outside to see the street empty, the old duster gone. The sky was black and threatening. If only the race could end BEFORE the storm? I went in to start the coffee, would need it this morning.
Got a Skype call from Liz. I took "her" outside with me, via ipad, as a motorcycle brigade went by, followed by a herd of paraplegic racers lying on stretch bicycles using hand pedals. What a sight! "Magnifique! Formidable!" I yelled from the 4th floor. No one else seemed to be yelling at that point, but heads looked up with big smiles! It was just about 7 when Charlene came to the door. We stood on the deck with "Liz", watching more of these amazing athletes pedal by. At 7 there was a lot of booming in the distance; starting guns? The next moment, lightning bolted across the sky, there was a gigantic crash of thunder; and the rain began in torrents. Charlene and I stood outside as long as we could. "Liz, we have to go inside!!" Just then I had to pause as about 8 to 12 front runners, all Kenyans, squished by. Felt like I was watching the Olympics through a curtain of water! Now we had to go in because the rain was bouncing off the handrails and everything was getting soaked, including my ipad.
For the next 10 minutes we stayed inside and had a lively 3-way conversation, Liz propped up on the coffee table. It was remarkable, and fun. Charlene retold her version of the night's siren experience and we all had a good laugh. By then I realized I'd missed Alex and the faster runners. We went back on the balcony to cheer on the runners still going by, still raining. By now there was lots of cheering and yelling, and Thumbs Up came our way.
When Charlene left, I climbed back into bed; so sleepy. Thunder and Lightning continued to rock the building. I was glad to be on the 4th floor, and contemplated what it would be like to run in soaking wet shoes and socks... blisters was all I could imagine.
Thunder and lightning continued all that day and through the night. By Monday we had reached a true calm; not a stir of a breeze. Every leaf was green and shiny. The buildings even appeared "clean" in spite of their rusty edges. It was a quiet Monday morning.
Alex told me his relay team came in 4th. "There were over 30,000 runners", he said. The internet said 33,370. At my class morning meeting I learned that 3 of my kids earned participation medals, 2 were kept home due to thunder and lightning, and one left the race early with cold feet and hands. Incredible! The Lebanese wouldn't consider canceling a race due to thunder and lightning, even for soccer games, The Show Must Go On! What a Show it was!
No comments:
Post a Comment