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This is the eye-contact marathon. My second one, I only go to those where there will be lots of people. That's so I don't have to spend hours alone, a few runners straggling behind me and out of sight, and many more dashing ahead of me - and out of sight.

If I can't be surrounded by other runners, at least I want to be in contact with by-standers. That's why I made my first marathon the NYC one. No shortage of runners there. And bystanders by the thousands. Cheering. Cheering me. I'm sure of it.

Victoria has three features that give me both fellow runners and an audience. The first is that marathon walkers and those runners like me who will take more than five hours to finish get an official start two hours earlier. This virtually ensures a nice little "tortoise pack" to run with along dark, otherwise deserted streets, puffing into the rosy-fingered dawn. You can chat now and then, with a particular camaraderie ("oh, yeah, I walked Honolulu --- did it in six and a half hours," "oh, I ran New York, in five and a half, hoping to do a bit better on this one.")

Next, the route is what is called an out-and-back. Go out, make a little loop at about 16 miles around some very fancy houses, and then return the same way. It turns out that as the faster runners, the ones with the 8 a.m. start, begin to pass the tortoise pack, they call out to you, saying things like, "great job, good pace, keep it up!" What's even nicer is that after about 1030 there is a continuous stream of faster runners who now are on the return route and who are facing we slower ones. The speedier ones (and that is sometimes a very relative matter) smile, encourage, call out to us, to me -- they really seem to care. Maybe it's the sympathy vote for 57 year old women, but there must have been easily 200 other runners who encouraged me directly. It had to be me, because even in large groups, I run alone. So there were few others at any given point who they could have meant. One fellow, seeing the lead male whiz past me a moment or two earlier yelled out in an incredulous tone, "you let him pass you???!" Yes, how could I let a fellow with a three hour lead overtake me?

Finally, this is the run for connecting with the lovely folks of Victoria. As early as 7 a.m, there were people putting out signs on their lawns to welcome the runners. One fellow was putting up a carefully painted sign, urging us to "have a great run." Then I saw the stuffed figure in an old housedress - it must do double duty for Halloween -- that would be standing by the sign by the time we were on our way back. There was a federal politician sitting with friends at the front of his very expansive lawn, his group of friends sipping fresh coffee from a stylish European coffee maker on a table. There were two families pooling card tables, lawn chairs and brunch, clapping and calling out as we went by. Another family had draped their table and curb-side tree with Canadian flags, and a sign saying "We're proud of you." And kids, families, groups of neighbors, sitting on the curb, leaning on trees, clapping, calling, snacking as they stood for hours. My garish running shorts received several compliments, or is it just comments, from runners and residents. Others noticed that I carried a camera, "look, taking pictures too - make a party of it!"

What struck me was, with all this communication, people seemed to wait until the runners, or this lone one at least, made eye contact before calling out. It was as though they understood that if I was looking down, I might not want to be disturbed, perhaps I was drawing on inner well-springs of desperately needed strength. But as soon as I looked up and looked at them, the shouts of encouragement would burst out. People were friendly, warm, and mannerly to the last. It must be Victoria.