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I’ve never liked to run. I’ve never been fond of jogging either. Running a marathon? Few things sound worse. But as I watched my second New York City Marathon run by today, I felt as I did last year — I want to be in this thing! Yeah, that’ll never happen. But it should demonstrate how much I love being a spectator at this event.

I’m ready to declare the marathon my co-favorite NYC event of the year (it shares the honor with the U.S. Open).

What’s better than waking up on a cold November morning, grabbing a local pastry and coffee, stumbling a few blocks away and cheering on thousands of strangers as they strive to complete a Herculean task?

One of the best parts is that the cheering spectators aren’t the only ones with huge smiles and high spirits. The runners — even those who are obviously struggling mightily — are jogging along grinning, cheering, high-fiving and waving. They’re fathers and daughters running in tandem. They’re handicapped and tackling the marathon with the help of a guide or a wheelchair. They’re dressed in costumes. They’re dressed in almost nothing at all. They’re wrapped in their nation’s flag. No matter how they do it, they’re doing it — and that’s more than most of us can say.

Another great marathon in the world’s greatest city. I love New York.

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