Two More Days of Running for a Reason in India

By Jason Coleman

It’s been hot here, and I mean really hot. My last few runs have all been before six a.m. and the temperature has been over 90 degrees Fahrenheit. The air quality is terrible, New Delhi is among the worst in the world. When I run, I’m afraid of getting attacked by monkeys and I’ve been bitten by a stray dog. And I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.

Why am I training here, in New Delhi, India for a race in Duluth, Minnesota?

For the first 13 years of my life, Duluth was home. I have vivid memories of Grandma’s Marathon – thousands of extra people coming to town once a year, packing Canal Park, eating spaghetti and running all of the way across town. My mom tells stories of me charming rich, old ladies to let us into their mansions to get more water to give to the racers on London Road.  In those days, I knew the marathon was a big deal, but I never thought about running it. In seventh grade, I thought I’d go out for the cross-country team.  I left the gym with the other runners, ran to the corner and sat down on a stump and waited for everyone to come back.  For the time, I decided that I was no runner. The following year, I moved to Wisconsin where my family made a new home.

Flash forward again, to 1999.  By then, home was Reston, Virginia. I had graduated university and just started my teaching career. I created a list of life goals and added “Run a Marathon.”

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