The marathon was the ultimate symbol of his interest in the sport. From the very first day Ottawa held the National Capital Marathon, each year he would gather the family and walk to Colonel By Drive to cheer the runners on. We knew none of the participants and, standing on the grass by the curb, applauded everyone equally. I was astonished at how many people were able to do this as young and old women and men streamed by determinedly. Some with proud strides, others with funny walks, they seemed to have nothing in common but this remarkable goal.

When I was in my teens, my father died suddenly of cancer. We stopped going.

In my mid-thirties, I met a group of colleagues at work who shared this strange hobby of running together every Sunday morning. They recommended the Running Room as a good place to learn. Within two years, I was standing in the nervous crowd of Ottawa runners at the start line for my first marathon.

In the excitement, the entertainment, and the chatting with strangers, I didn't think of my father until we reached that same point on Colonel By Drive. Families I didn't know stood there, applauding. It was when I passed them, separated by that same piece of Ottawa curb, that I really became proud of running a marathon.

Robert Shotton, Ottawa, Ontario, May 2003

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