Here’s an odd side note from the Boston Marathon, as described in a Boston Globe review of stories from along the course last Monday:
It was a strange race. [Marc] Bellanger had been battling tendinitis in the weeks leading up. He took an Advil and seemed to be on his way to his goal of a four-hour marathon. Then, in Wellesley, a dog jumped out of the spectator area and bit Bellanger on the leg.
He kept running, but the attack had thrown him off. Bellanger slowed down on the Newton hills before picking up the pace further down Beacon Street.
My aunt in Duxbury read that story and was a bit worried that I could have been involved in some way. I want to assure your readers that I have a solid alibi: I was at home sleeping. Any running, or chomping, occurred only in my dreams.