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Sidelines
Kalani Simpson
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Honolulu Marathon veteran Burrill runs enough for all of us
GLADY Burrill is the type of person I usually try not to associate with because she's so ... she's so ... all right, this is a tough label to accuse someone of, but I'm just going to come right out and say it: She's so ... inspirational.
I know! You have to watch out for people like that, they're bad influences. It's terrible. She's so enthusiastic and cheerful and wonderful and lovable and so full of energy and enthusiasm and laughter and life, if I spend too much time around her I might actually start -- gasp! -- exercising.
"Don't you want to exercise?" Glady asks me.
"No," I say.
No. It's a lifestyle choice, at this point. Look what can happen. Michelle Wie wouldn't be in all this trouble if she hadn't hurt her wrist when she fell while jogging. (Remember this any time anyone tries to tell you that golfers are athletes. Who falls down while jogging? OK -- I have collapsed while jogging. Big difference.)
I tell Glady that I did a lot of exercising when I was young, but ...
"Oh, you're so old!" she says, and gives me a hug.
See? Lovable, wonderful, full of laughter and life. Inspirational. You've really got to watch yourself around her or you could find yourself headed out for a run.
She does that to people. She is, of course, a marathoner, a fanatic. As if you could be one without the other. This December she'll power walk her fourth consecutive Honolulu Marathon, a few weeks after her birthday. Her 89th birthday.
See? Inspirational. I told you to watch out.
She grew up barefoot-poor in Oregon. When she was a girl she wore dresses made from flour sacks. Her father was a coal miner and he died when she was 2.
Today the fancy Nikes she wears feel like heaven on her feet.
She's always been life and laughter and toughness and hugs. She had six kids, 18 grandchildren, and the family picture she shows me looks like there must be 100 smiles surrounding the pretty lady in the middle of it all.
In December, the week after the marathon, she'll be married to Eugene 68 years. "When he was 11 years old he saw me when I was 12," she said this week, when she told her story to the Honolulu Quarterback Club.
He greets her at the finish line in tears.
Inspirational. This is terrible.
Must. Resist.
My goal in life is the opposite of many people. It's to NEVER run a marathon.
Of course there are tough moments along the way for her, too, in the 26.2-mile endurance test. At one point, one year, she went into a Porta Potty -- "by that time 1,000 people had used it" -- and sat there and prayed. But she always kept going, always stayed with it, always had a smile at the end.
In fact, her times are getting better as she gets older. Part of that is advice she's received from friend and fellow Honolulu Marathon celebrity Jimmy Muindi. You see, Glady had been stopping to take a picture with, and hug, any fan along the way who asked. Now, whenever she gets the urge, her grandson and his wife, who accompany her, say, "Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy." Jimmy told her to keep going.
She has to keep inspiring.
But not me.
"I hope your conscience is bothering you!" she says, and one more hug.
Oh, crap. I'm doomed.