LOS ANGELES _ Along the 26.2-mile journey from Dodger Stadium to the Santa Monica Pier, signs hinted at a coming menace.
One L.A. Marathon spectator donned a hazmat suit. Another, in a Grim Reaper costume, handed out candy. Runners traded sneaker taps instead of high-fives, and race volunteers wore latex gloves when offering water.
But plenty about that Sunday morning seemed quite ordinary. Marathoners young and old _ 23,000 of them _ still jostled shoulder-to-shoulder, while groups gathered on sidewalks to cheer for them. Former NHL star Luc Robitaille and his wife strolled with their dogs down a Santa Monica street to San Vicente Boulevard, soaking up the scene.
"It felt like it was any other marathon Sunday," recalled Robitaille, now the L.A. Kings' president. "It was normal, almost."
The local sports scene on the weekend of March 6 represented an inflection point between the life we always knew and the fast-approaching realities of a pandemic.
That Friday night, the Lakers hosted the Milwaukee Bucks at Staples Center. Saturday, the USC and UCLA men's basketball teams squared off at Galen Center, Mexican soccer star Chicharito made his debut with the Galaxy and the Kings took on the Minnesota Wild. Sunday offered a titanic tilt between the Lakers and Clippers and, of course, the marathon.
Southern Californians still had decisions to make about how to spend their leisure time _ and with whom to spend it. After completing her 10th marathon, Loren Piretra faced a choice: Go straight home or meet a friend at a beer garden?
She had been feeling an "eerie energy" all day, but decided to have the celebratory beer anyway. Months later, she would think back on that moment and chide herself for being irresponsible.
