The crowds along the route for the first Pittsburgh Marathon in six years were smaller yesterday than in the past, but there were still plenty of stories from runners and the neighborhoods where they ran.

Post-Gazette reporters fanned out across the city to gather these observations from the race:

Bystanders along Smallman Street in the Strip District watched as a steady wave of humanity -- a record 10,500 runners, including many who came to run just half the course -- began their sojourn through the city.

Many happy faces were full of anxious determination, with some certainty that many of those smiles would melt into frowns of exhaustion in coming hours. There were raised arms, which would fall ever lower, only to rise skyward at the end, if energy permitted.

Ponytails bobbed out of sync with bobbing heads.

Twenty-one thousand mostly sculpted legs and soon-to-be burdened feet pounded against unyielding pavement. People stood on chairs and tables to photograph a family member, spouse or friend about to travel 138,336 feet, equivalent to the length of a football field, 461 times.

At the starting line, the temperature was about 51 degrees with 84 percent humidity and winds at 2 mph.

Pennsylvania American Water Co. said it planned to distribute 9,500 gallons of water along the 26.2-mile route. That amount would fill a 20-foot above-ground swimming pool that is 52 inches deep.

After the runners passed the starting line, where spectators displayed their signs of encouragement -- "No Pain, No Gain," and "Can Do 26.2" -- it was time to take photographs.

That was the case with the family of Eileen Stanford, 46, of Baldwin-Whitehall, who ran the half-marathon and raised $1,500 for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's Team In Training.

"This is called true love, getting [us] out of bed at 4:45," said her sister, Sue Gilbert of Whitehall, who joined Mrs. Stanford's husband, Don Stanford, son Brett, mother Patricia Murray, and two other sisters, Kathy Griener and Debby Recher, to see her off. "I tape it, and we cried," Ms. Gilbert said.

Don Stanford had special reason for celebrating his wife's accomplishment: Five years ago, she donated a kidney to him when he suffered renal failure due to type 1 diabetes. He said he's doing fine now.

"This means a lot," Mr. Stanford said after family members posed for photos with arms draped around each other's shoulders. "This is very inspirational. She said she was running a half-marathon, and she can do whatever she wants to do."

Along Walnut Street in Shadyside, the friends of Lucas Marsak, all regulars (or as one friend suggested, "irregulars") at Jitters Cafe, waited to cheer him on in front of the cafe. Perhaps more accurately, they said they were there to verify that he actually rolled out of bed and made it to the starting line.

His friends included John Potter and Robert Pruitt of Shadyside and Ross Schaub of Highland Park.

They said Mr. Marsak, of Monroeville, is a swimming coach, an actor and a model who did a recent job modeling tuxedos. He also has participated in the Ironman Triathlon in Hawaii, and each Halloween he dresses as Clark Kent of Superman fame.

Mr. Schaub said he and the other coffee drinkers were Mr. Marsak's "mental advisers."

And would they cheer when he passed by?

"If he's not in first place, we'll probably boo him," Mr. Schaub said. "We expect excellence. We don't spend time getting to know these people if they come in way down the line."

He did not finish first, but he did finish in 2:47:50, just 25 minutes behind the winner.

Why watch the marathon with empty hands when you can use them to provide some clever musical inspiration to the marathoners?

That was the thinking of Jeff Brancolini, 29, of Shadyside, who decided to take his accordion, which his friends gave him as a wedding gift, to serenade the runners.

OK, serenade is not the right term. It sounded more like a dirge depicting the gloom of hard labor.

"I'm trying to perfect my art," he said, describing himself as a novice on the accordion, which he also played on Shadyside's sidewalks after the Steelers won the Super Bowl.

"My wife -- I think she's embarrassed, so she left," Mr. Brancolini said of his spouse, Kristy.

With the marathon being a parade of humanity, the sidewalks became a steady parade of pooches, most with a tongues hanging out, an eye to the electricity of the crowd and an ear to the steady panting coming from humans running past.

Mimi Lenenberg of Shadyside, had her three greyhounds, retired racers Andrew, Kangaroo and Street Kid, there with her to watch the runners. "They are loving it and getting a lot of attention," Ms. Lenenberg said. Having three retired racers on leashes, she conceded, represented a certain theme for marathon day.

"Yes, it works out that way," she said. "It's nice."

Greensburg resident Cheryl Gatons, 42, was profiled in the Post-Gazette last Monday as a story in perseverance, as the mother of three buried her husband, Kevin, on her 40th birthday, battled subsequent depression and also lost her father to cancer. She ran her first marathon in almost eight years yesterday. and finished in 2:57:48, good enough for sixth place -- and the top women's finisher over 40 years old.

Bruce Jenkins, the diminutive 26-year-old South Side resident who overcame childhood ailments including asthma, pneumonia and bronchitis and was featured in yesterday's Post-Gazette, didn't meet his goal of 3:20. He turned in a solid time of 3:38:37 and finished in 479th place.

Anticipating big crowds of hungry bystanders waiting to cheer on runners, workers at several East Carson Street establishments said they weren't disappointed.

"We usually do about 20 by this time [on Sunday]. Today we had 40," said Darlene Takis, a waitress at Tom's Diner, of the crowd that had arrived by 7:30.

"We're pretty busy for a Sunday. People are getting here earlier and it's been consistent," said John Fleming, assistant manager of Bruegger's Bagels, which opened a half-hour earlier to accommodate the crowd.

But not all business owners saw the race as a potential boost to revenues. Demosthenes Kephalogianis, owner of The 1889 Cafe, said he thought the crowds were smaller than in previous years and his restaurant might actually lose business.

"The crowds might show up today because it's the first race in years, but for the last few years the crowd's just been getting smaller and smaller," he said. "And the bad thing is people think the streets are closed all day, so they might not come around at all."

Marathons provide opportunities to raise awareness for causes, but many organizations also used yesterday's marathon to raise their own profiles.

"It's kind of an interesting way to present people with an idea," said Rodney Necciai, principal of Pittsburgh Phillips K-5 on the South Side. Mr. Necciai and teacher Jeff Igims represented only one of the 18 schools that passed out T-shirts with the Pittsburgh Promise's new sunburst logo yesterday.

Kathy Crawford, president of the South Side Rotary Club, said passing orange slices to runners along the route would help increase the exposure of a club that was re-established within the past year.

"We were a very active club in the South Side for many years, but because of age, the club has disintegrated," she said. "So we're starting it back up with youth, business owners and people interested in getting together to build a relationship with the South Side."

"I was excited we came here to take part in this," said membership chair Michael Hertich. "It's a wonderful event and will definitely help us get our name out there a little more."

If marathoners had playlists on their iPods ready for the race, they didn't need them once they reached the South Side. At least three bands, Brewer's Row, Doubleshot! and Flounder, set up stages between 10th Street and the Birmingham Bridge near East Carson Street for the marathon. Members of all three bands said they wanted to use the race to boost their images locally, but a few had particular runners they hoped to encourage.

The contemporary a capella band Doubleshot!, which performed in front of the Carnegie Library South Side Branch near the Birmingham Bridge, said bandmate Nate Wildfire would join them to sing after running the half-marathon. "We've done a lot of crazy things," said band member Mike Yanchak. "We're always trying to do different things to make our shows interesting. I guess if he wasn't in good shape, he wouldn't be doing this in the first place."

Nicholas Hohman and his band, Brewer's Row, stood at an ideal location near 10th and Bingham streets to entertain. He also stood in the ideal place for his wife, Brittany Hohman, to run briefly off the route, give him a quick peck on the lips and rejoin the rest of the marathoners while barely breaking stride.

"I hope she doesn't collapse 20 feet earlier because she ran over here," Mr. Hohman said.

Dave Syiek pulled up the rear of the race, literally, as the marathon's six-hour pacer. He prefers to be called "Pacer Dave," which is what the sign on his back read, but yesterday he went with another appellation: "Grim Reaper."

Mr. Syiek was one of a series of runners who wore orange bibs and set the pace for runners who wanted to run a particular time. Mr. Syiek brought up the rear.

"As I pass, flowers wilt, dogs fall over," he said wryly. Holding a sign that read "6:00" in bold numbers, he pushed forward with a slow but determined shuffle.

Mr. Syiek represented the end of the line for the marathon's stragglers. Behind him, cleanup began and those he passed were on their own to find the finish line.

"Typically, you only make one person happy [finishing a marathon]," he said. But as a pacer, "You have an opportunity to help a lot of people to meet their goals."

Chit Sethi, a software programmer and part-time student at Carnegie Mellon University who was running his first half-marathon, chugged along just ahead of Mr. Syiek.

"So as long as you're behind me, I'm OK?" he asked.

As people cheered on loved ones and encouraged the marathoners throughout the race, many of them also cheered the fact that the city had a race of its own again.

"Having a marathon goes along with sports teams for the city," said Mr. Hertich of the South Side Rotary Club. "To be considered a big city like Philadelphia, Boston, New York, a lot of those places are known for their marathons. The cities recognized for marathons attract a lot of tourism and a lot of positive publicity."

Peg Mangan of Brentwood said she was glad she could finally see her son, Bill Mangan, compete in a marathon close to home. Mr. Mangan, a 24-year old Carnegie Mellon University graduate now living in New York City, has participated in marathons as far away as South Africa over the last four years. He ran the Pittsburgh Marathon, his first in the city, with the brothers of his fraternity, Sigma Phi Epsilon.

"I think it's great they have it back in Pittsburgh. The last couple years I had to go to D.C. to watch him," she said.

Crafton native Brent Herring, who has a goal to run 50 marathons in 50 states, said he was pleased that he can mark his fifth race near his hometown.

"Being able to come home and compete on our bridges and city streets is a wonderful reminder of what a great city Pittsburgh is to live in," Mr. Herring said.

Among the spectators was Beverly Smith, wearing fuzzy slippers and a robe, who brought out a chair to sit with neighbors on the sidewalk in front of her house on Cedar Avenue, North Side. She knew a few of the runners, but was mostly out to cheer on everyone. "We're a big city, but it's the small town thing to do. You go out and cheer for whoever, Steelers, Pirates, runners," she said. "And we want people to like the city."

Peg Cammerata, who pulled up a chair next to Ms. Smith, said Pittsburghers, by their nature, are "rabid" sports fans and will coalesce around any sporting event.

"Even the Pirates, as bad as they are, [the fans] come," she said with a laugh.