sponsored this tour, which included the typical touristy visits to see ruins, a cruise on the Aegean Sea,
etc., but once that was over I’d have an open ticket and could stay as long as I wanted and do as I
pleased. This kind of package tour didn’t interest me, but I did like the idea of being on my own
afterward. Greece is the home of the original marathon course, and I was dying to see it with my own
eyes. I figured I should be able to run at least part of it myself. For a beginning runner like me, this
would definitely be an exciting experience.
Wait a sec, I thought. Why just one part? Why not run the entire distance?When I suggested this to the editors of the magazine, they liked the idea. So I ended up running my
first full marathon (or something close to it) quietly, all by myself. No crowds, no tape at the finish
line, no hearty cheers from people along the way. None of that. But that was okay, since this was the
original marathon course. What more could I ask for?
Actually, if you run straight from Athens to Marathon, it’s not quite the length of an official
marathon, which is set at 26.2 miles. It’s about a mile short. I found out about this years later when I
ran in an official race that followed the original course, starting in Marathon and ending in Athens. As
those who watched the TV broadcast of the marathon at the Athens Olympics are aware, after the
runners leave Marathon, at one point they go off on a side road to the left, run past some less-than-
distinguished ruins, and then return to the main road. That’s how they make up for the extra distance.
At the time, though, I wasn’t aware of this, and was under the impression that running straight from
Athens to Marathon would be the full 26.2 miles. Actually, it was only twenty-five. But within Athens
itself I took a few detours, and since the odometer in the van that accompanied me showed it had
driven twenty-six miles, I suppose I ran something pretty close to a full marathon. Not that it matters
much at this late date.
It was midsummer in Athens when I ran. As those who’ve been there know, the heat can be
unbelievable. The locals, unless they can’t help it, avoid going out in the afternoon. They don’t do
anything, just keep cool in the shade to conserve their strength. Only once the sun sets do they take to
the streets. Just about the only people you see walking outside on a summer afternoon in Greece are
tourists. Even dogs just lie down in the shade and don’t move a muscle. You have to watch them for a
long time before you can figure out whether they’re still alive. That’s how hot it is. Running twenty-
six miles in heat like that is nothing short of an act of madness.
When I told Greeks my plan to run alone from Athens to Marathon, they all said the same thing:
“That’s insane. No one in their right mind would ever think of it.” Before I came, I had no idea how
hot the summer is in Athens, so I was pretty easygoing about it. All I had to do was run twenty-six
miles, I figured, only worrying about the distance. The temperature never crossed my mind. Once I got
to Athens, though, it was so blazing hot I did start to get the jitters. They’re right, I thought. You have
to be crazy to want to do this. Still, I’d made this flamboyant gesture, promising I’d run the original
marathon course and write an article about it, and I’d flown all the way to Greece to accomplish it. No
way could I back out now. I racked my brain to come up with ideas on how to keep from getting
exhausted by the heat, and finally got the idea of leaving Athens in the early morning, while it was