Outside the Radison Hotel (the so called Center of New Hampshire, although I have my doubts), two Greyhound guardians sit in rapt attention forever watching passers-by.
A somewhat blurry practice photo of the beginning of the race.
A somewhat blurrier photo of the race start.
A somewhat less blurry photo than the second photo, but blurrier than the first photo, of the race start. Is that dude wearing a skirt?
A blurrier than the... aw, forget it.
A photo of people moving so fast that the camera cannot focus on them, kind of like the Flash of DC comics, or Quicksilver of Marvel comics, or Daphne on Heroes.
Strangely enough, the people in the foreground are in perfect focus, while the ones towards the back are not. What can science tell us about such photographic happenings?
There sure are a lot of photos of people who are not me. I cannot help but think, "Why?"
What is up with these two rude people who are standing in front of my wife? Can't they see that she is tiny and little and small? No, because they are not facing the correct way.
Get out of the way!
Here is me, Steve, as well as some guy to the left looking smarmy.
If you look to the extreme left, you will be rewarded with a somewhat humorous photo of me, looming up behind the woman in the brown coat. Were you listening to me, or looking at the woman in the brown coat? Look again. Turns out she is Agent Smith of the Matrix.
A photo of me running away from the crazy woman on the left, and the man who is protesting parking issues on Elm St.
A practice finish photo.
Another practice photo, this time of a man who stands in a very manly way.
I have finished! Here I am holding up my finisher's medal. It is now time for rest.
You will believe a fat man can run a marathon!
You will continue believing!
Here I am, wrapped in my finisher's blankie made of space age materials. Thank you, President Kennedy.
Here I play the fool in a most amusing way.