
The Essence Of The Dixie Spirit: The St. George Marathon
I've been to more than 20 St. George Marathons over the 30 years I've lived here.
Don't get me wrong. I haven't run any of them. But as a sports writer, broadcaster and fan, I've had the amazing opportunity to cover the event many times (how many I do not know, lost count).
For the last few years (excluding 2020, when there was no race), I've had the chance to broadcast live from the finish line. And you might think three hours of live radio with little going on in front of you for the first two hours would be hard.
But it really wasn't.
See, I've become St. George, or rather St. George is who I am. I love the race, as well as the Huntsman World Senior Games, the Ironman, the pickle ball courts, the paths and trails, even the proliferation of soda shacks.
But dwelling on that stuff is like not enjoying a Beethoven concerto because he was a womanizer, or shunning a Michelangelo sculpture because he was a slob.
Instead, I enjoy the beauty that is the STG.
And I'm not alone. Thousands turned out to volunteer, cheer, watch and admire at the marathon last weekend. Very few are actual race fans. In fact, the chances of any of us knowing the winner of any other marathon in America are slim and none.
But on that one day, we were all marathon fans.
Instead, we were having scones, cheering on Aaron Metler (the St. George native finished eighth), handing out Gatorade, marveling at the sheer will these runners show and going home vowing to be better in life.
And that is what the marathon, The St. George Marathon, is all about.
** Note2 -- And congrats to race winners Michael Otteson and Kodi Kleven.

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