The Harvard Crimson
Did you or the most annoying person you know run the Cambridge Half and choose to make it their entire personality on Sunday? Well, I did. And I can tell you the true winners are not the runners biting their participation medals but the hordes of people who woke up at 7 a.m. on Halloweekend to support their mentally ill friends. I spent my whole 13.1 miles reading your signs, and they saved me from taking a jump right off Week’s bridge.
It’s 6:20 a.m. and it’s 37 degrees out. I stand, shivering in my spandex shorts and t-shirt, corralled with everyone who’s ever ventured out for a run on the Charles. I am suffering from my decision three short months ago to sign up for the Cambridge Half Marathon. I wished to be among the group of underground runners at Harvard who emerge once a year to post a Strava story of their 13.1 run, while you are just waking up after Halloweekend. Many asked: Why would you want to run for two straight hours? Don’t you get bored? Well, first of all, I ran it in 1:43 (not a brag), and was entertained…
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