It’s been two weeks since my last blog. Two weeks and a lifetime. I left Michigan for Rome thinking I would have time to read, which is why I brought my Kindle, and time to crochet, which is why I brought a yarn project, and time to sit on the patio and bask in the Italian sun, which is why I was eager to sip cappuccino. None of this happened.
Instead, I hiked four to five miles daily around Rome, in soggy weather and soggy clothing, visiting various sites that dated anywhere between two thousand years ago and yesterday. Yesterday, for instance, was marked by the Papal Conclave that met in the Sistine Chapel to choose the next Pope. I was actually in St. Peter’s Square the very day that Francis – in Italian, Francesco – was chosen, although I’d left the area prior to the emergence of the white smoke.
I wish I could say that choosing the Pope was the high point of our visit, but it wasn’t. It was merely a coincidence, a sidebar in the journal of our lives. For we had come to see my son, Kevin, run the Rome Marathon after months of preparation.
Kevin ran Chicago’s Marathon at age twelve and came in second in his age group. It wasn’t a scientific approach to running; rather it was the energy of youth that fueled him. This time, he took a more rational approach. He trained for several months with Rome in mind. He read copiously about cross training, diet, and exercise. He put in the time and the miles.
Me? I signed up to be part of his “team” when he reminded me that I’d dogged him at Chicago’s Marathon, showing up every five or six miles to yell encouragement and then racing in my car to get to the next point before he did where I could shout once more. I made it to the finish line before he did too.
We – Lonna (Kevin’s significant other), Andy (his college friend), and I – were all there at the finish line this time. He crossed in 3:03, about twenty minutes ahead of his Chicago time. Not shabby for a forty-four year old. Not shabby for anyone.
The next day Andy left; the day after that we did too. We’d planned this trip for almost six months, and now it had come and gone.
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