Something about the rain only made the Bolder Boulder more special. Running through obstacles, having fun through it, a mass of humanity coming together in nomadic community in a world split by greed and coming AI, but I repeat myself.

Something simple as the rain falls into sweat about a mass of fun, silly, cheering-on, struggling, beautiful, strong, weak, loud, and messy and young and old and abled and otherwise.

Firefighters running in full get up, moms and dads with babies, Elvis running, the fast and light, the walking, the near-blind, the joyous, the alien and unicorn outfits, Santas, people wearing bikinis, people skipping, people wearing all manner of food outfits, people sprinting, people walking, people rolling, smiles from those who fly by, courageous frowns (and smiles) from those who count every step, dogs yapping on the sidelines, police SUVs idling, runners pausing for a beer or a selfie with friends or family, chanting JROTC, uplifting bagpipes right where you need ’em before the last big hill, Mario, monkeys, tutus by the dozen, tourists and locals you’ve seen for 25 years, house parties with redundant slip n’slides, amateur bands rocking out, professional runners who flew in and fly by, amateurs like myself who only run once a year.

Yes less plastic waste would be good, year after year after year it’s an easy educational opportunity missed, and a landfill filled forever with toxic forgotten bags and cups and tee shirts and shorts. Yes it’s a for-profit race in a world of for-benefit faces.

But community is something special. Even when you’re prepared for it to be big and loud and fun…it still surprises.

Normally I run, but my knee has been acting up (bike fit, I think) and it’s never as fun to watch, anymore. But it’s still fun.

Hard to red-white-blue cheer on what some are doing to this country right now, but the red-white-blue is a symbol of what we can be—about democracy, not hate; real freedoms, not a taking away of health care and food stamps; ideals to strive and bend the arc of history toward, not a past-prejudice and harm-glorifying and retrenching thing.

The red-white-blue has flown when we defeated Hitler, and he was for all his horror and cruelty easier to recognize than a domestic threat of ignorance, rapacious greed, hate, and lust for power. Don’t let the haters co-opt our symbol, our flag, our colors. Celebrate them in diverse, old, young, abled or not, ethnic and religious and rich and poor and all other messy, joyful, delightfully diverse, caring humanity.

May there be peace on earth and goodwill to all—