Jeebus at Mile 17

I saw Jeebus (more commonly known as Jesus, but I don't want to be sacrilicious) on my first Marathon, 2002, Los Angeles. You've heard of "runner's high," where your overtaxed endorphins force your entire body/mind into an indescribable state of euphoriorgasm. I've told people this many times: if I could bottle "runner's high" or press it into a pill or a snortable powder or injection or ANYTHING, I'd be richer than Bill Gates.

The LA Marathon has music groups set up along the route, for motivation. Rock, rap, polka (I may have hallucinated that one, but accordions were involved). At Mile 17, there was a gospel choir. I am neither a Jesus freak nor a Gospel music admirer/tolerator. But they were waving their arms in the air and singing about Jesus like they just didn't care! Mile 17, man - that's where you really start to get numb and delirious and religious. (QuikTip: the human body is NOT designed to run 26.2 miles.)

Anyway, the choir was testifying from rafters outside a gas station on 3rd and LaBrea. The choir leader turned to the runners and exhorted us: "raise your hands and praise Jesus"! And I'll be damned if I didn't do it. I kept running, but I pumped my hands up toward the sky and rasped out "Jesus!" The choir recognized me and shouted "you almost home, girl!" Actually, I still had 10 miles to go. But I was in no position to quibble with my robe-wearing, enthusiastic encourager.

PLUS I saw Jeebus! He wasn't running... I think he might have been on the sidewalk, a few rows back. He offered no water or gatorade or a "high five" as so many marathon observers do... but the dude was THERE. He had a beard and everything. Beards weren't even trendy at the time, so it must have been Jeebus. Well, maybe it was Santa Claus who had travelled back in time before his hair got white. My thought process was slightly muddled by exhaustion, dehydration and the fact that I'D JUST RUN 17 FUCKING MILES.

You never know WHO you'll spot at 3rd and LaBrea. Or any Marathon 17-mile-mark. I ran Chicago in 2003, but I didn't see any celebrities anywhere along the route. I was too busy screaming inwardly "Why are you doing this AGAIN?!"
I've never been too adept at learning from my mistakes, so I'm bound to repeat them.
Jeebus, please stop me before I run 26.2 miles again. Amen.