The day started out cold and wet. Looking out at the slick roads winding their way below my brother's Jerusalem apartment, I imagined that I'd be doing more sliding than running in that day's race. But, as the old Aussie song goes, "Will you tie it up with wire, just to keep the show on the road?" - yep, the show will go on, and I'll do whatever it takes to make sure I'm in it. The taxi had difficulty reaching Givat Ram. Thousands of people were converging on the stadium. Some jogged slowly, warming themselves up for the race, others arrived by car, bicycle, and groups in sporty uniforms disembarked from coaches near the entrance. When I arrived inside the grounds at about 8.00am, the festivities were in full swing. A band was playing Israeli tunes, with an unlikely bagpipe accompaniment. At the registration tent, I obtained my runner's pack, complete with a t-shirt, timing chip to strap to my shoe, and an energy bar. Shortly afterward, I met my wife a
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