Before “Jack and Diane” and “Runnin’ on Empty” came thundering from across the street well before sunrise last Sunday, I’d mostly forgotten about the Georgia Marathon.
The music was soon accompanied by a voice with that simultaneously enthusiastic and professional quality cultivated by announcers at big athletic events.
Turns out that the first water station for the race was in front of the Civic Center, which placed it just across from my building.
After about an hour of one-sided banter from the announcer accompanied by more Top 40 hits of the 80s, the first wheelchair racers came flying down the hill along with race volunteers on bikes. Several minutes behind them came the lone leading runner, pursued by several tiny packs of others.
Then the groups of runners got bigger and bigger until they were deep enough and wide enough to fill the block.
Then it was time to go back to sleep.
The Oppidan Omnibus 
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