The first marathon races were for athletes, men, women, and those who use wheels to take the place of their legs. Their 25 mile feat was incredible and the winners finished in record time. Some of the participants tour the world all year to participate in different challenges. One of the athletes who finished tenth in the womens' race failed to return to her accommodation. She was due to leave the country today. I guess she's looking for asylum.
At around mid day, thousands of ordinary people started to run. It's hard to know how much practice they'd had. Many of them were running to raise money for charity—some dressed in costumes and sweating in their bulky suits. The news reported that one man died in hospital after the completion of his run.
I've never been any good at running. Although there was no test for babies in 1942, I was born with malformed hips. As a child, I wanted to run, but something always dragged me back. In the end, I gave up rather than let my classmates down. Now I'm suffering the full effect of four hip replacements. I disregard my flaw. I'd rather concentrate on the things I do well—like writing novels. Those already published sit on the sidebar at the right of the page one click away from Amazon. The heroines in my stories are women with amazing mental powers. I guess that's the way I achieve balance.