MCM Part 3
11:13 a.m. - 2:00 and beyond
11:13, Tidal Basin. I was still moving through a headwind along Independence Avenue straight to the river. I downshifted to a slower pace on the premise that I needed to conserve and take care of myself for another 12 miles. I made the turn at the Potomac and slipped around through some quiet parkland to the edge of the Tidal Basin. Spectators were thinning out but there I was jogging along and I heard, "Hey, Mr. Thomas!" and I looked over to see Eric, the son of some of my best friends in Rhode Island. I knew he was in DC for the race to watch his girl friend run. I hardly expected we'd see each other. That chance meeting and greeting made me feel good. I had another fan right after letting Michelle go. Mile 15 - 10:55.
11:24, Jefferson Memorial. I concentrated on smooth strides and as little up and down as possible. I felt good and I was looking forward to the Hains Point experience ahead of me. I equated it to my silent lonely long runs. I passed the Jefferson Memorial just before reaching Ohio Drive. Mile 16 - 11:05.
11:35, Ohio Drive. The drive was more of a lane. There was little distraction other than the occasional runner who stopped in front of me and walked. I was still running but extremely thirsty. I started to feel cramps in my feet. I successfully ran through them at first. We crossed Buckeye Drive just before mile 17 - 12:05.
11:47, Hains Point. It was a mile to the point with a water stop halfway there. I had been sucking on Gu to rev me up some more but my thirst was strong. The lane had narrowed. The golden leaves on the trees in the park that bordered the Potomac were glorious. A sculler was out on the water gliding in some slight chop. The forecast wind must have been behind me. I could hardly feel it. There was a golf course on the other side of the course. This was a peaceful and tranquil place. It was not as grueling as I feared. The water stop was congested. I walked with everyone else and drank water and Powerade. Beyond the stop I shuffled to the point and mile 18 - 13:06.
12 noon, The Long Road Back. Once I turned back towards the district I felt more cramps. This time they forced me to walk. I tried to follow the lead of some Gallowayers to at least give me some structure to my revised plan. The walking gave me energy when I ran. Mile 19 - 12:29.
12:12, Finally Running. The next mile passed another water stop with more walking and finally a return to humanity and fans. As I ran off Hains Point there were very narrow running lanes due to the many fans crammed on the sides to cheer their loved ones. Minding my own business, I trudged on when all of a sudden I saw Susie standing in front of me. I couldn't resist running up to give her a hug and shake David's hand. I asked if she'd seen Michelle. Yes. Just a little bit ahead of me (she lied). How did I feel. I said something like I was okay and getting along fine. She snapped my picture and I moved on. 14:03.
12:26, 14th Street Bridge. I was thinking about how I only had a run around my lake at home to finish the race. That wasn't a far distance. Then it struck me that there were no long boring bridges around my lake. I was struggling some more and was embarassed when Eric from the Tidal Basin encounter saw me again and I was walking. Oh yeah. It's a run, I said and started up again. The foot cramps were becoming more regular and even though Mile 21 was over the river it was nowhere near the end of the highway to Crystal City. 14:10.
12:40, Marines World. I was approaching the four hour mark in the stretch and started calculating my chances for a finish time. I had five plus to go and, at my current pace, I had to only hope I could beat the Miami Marathon time of 5:00. Coming down into the Crystal City Street Spectacular I only noticed two things: wind and Marines. They were more prevalent at this water station for some reason. Maybe it's because I was walking through it. I missed the mile mark and hit the split a little late. 15:00.
12:55, Beer is Good. I had my last Gu before the water stop and soon thereafter came upon the beer oasis. I was still running but I stop for all beer. Even better, some guy was offering potato chips which have lots of salt which I believed might relieve my foot cramps. I took as much as I could carry. The mile went down to the turnaround and back up. There thousands of fans in this area with some sponsored interactive displays and a band to make it seem alive; far more so than the bridge. Mile 23 - 14:13.
1:04, A boring mile. I was not drawing any karma from the loud crowd as I left Crystal City, passing the Marines at the same water station and looping over the interstate towards the Pentagon. I kept alternating runs with walks. Running as often as I could, I raised my pace to give my legs a different feel. Sometimes I find that helps. 14:39.
1:19, Pentagon. I have two miles to go and it's starting to look iffy about beating the 5 hour time. I need to cover the next miles a little faster. The route around the Pentagon was boring with no fans and a lot of police. The sun was beating down and there was asphalt as fara as the eye could see. The road started to swell up and down too. 15:27.
1:34, Crippled. I approached the last mile in a blur. I could not calculate any numbers. I was concentrating on moving forward with the others around me. They did not inspire me either as a lot of my neighbors were walking. That included a Marine wearing an 8th Tanks shirt. We kept passing each other between our walks and runs.
I came along Washington Blvd. to the ramp leading down to Jefferson Parkway. The grade was steep and my right knee revolted. It could not run. I tried. Really I did. What do you do in such situations? I remembered Miami and the pains there. I had vowed then and again now not to race hurt and never run another race. I walked the last mile with my head hung. 21:30.
1:56, Iwo Jima. The turn up to the Iwo Jima Memorial was the last straw. I had every expectation and hope that my walking the 26th mile might afford me enough strength to run the last .2 and across the finish line. As I looked up the hill and stepped forward I felt such pain in my knee that I had to stop and walk up sideways. At the finish I feigned a jog for the cameramen (it worked) and crossed into MCM oblivion. The last .2 - 4:54.
2:01, Done. I got in the queue to receive my finisher medal but was happier about the Marine who gave me an orange. The LT gave me an cut one which I stripped of its skin over the next 20 minutes while devouring the sweet fruit. I headed off to the Autism tent to retrieve my bag. I put on my warm ups and weaved toward the mighty crowds of Ft. Myers Street. My first observation was a lot of folks sipping beer so I followed their drip lines and got a beer of my own. From there it was off to the farthest end of the street to the X-Y-Z meet-up zone, hopefully to find Michelle and anyone else.
I got there and found Richie and Bex with hubby E. It was windy and we exchanged a few race impressions before they headed out. Before they left I spotted Michelle and the Studdlies just a few yards away. We all said hey. A few pics were snapped. I retrieved my clothing and cell phone from Hubby before I hugged Michelle goodbye.
I stood around a little while wondering about Jeanne and Susie. I walked back a little ways thinking I might see them. The Finish Festival was too crowded and I was keen on getting home. I called both ladies and left messages. With hardly any battery strength left I saved my calls for Gil so to coordinate an extraction from the area. It took some time but we were successful. While I waited I had final phone calls with Jeanne and Susie. Au revoir my friends.
I might run this race again some day. I will definitely run another marathon, maybe the new one in Atlanta in March (hilly).
11.03.2006
11.02.2006
Running with a Running Chick
MCM Part 2, 8-11 a.m.
805. The start line inflatables are icons for how huge the Marine Corps Marathon is for runners. The announcer is telling us it's the fourth largest crowd in marathon history (anywhere). Music kicks in to pump up those of us who might possibly, per chance, still be calm. Ha!
Jeanne and I work our way up the side of the elite runners, the fast runners and the almost fast runners; beyond the Scarlet group altogether. I glanced once or twice at the crowds to see if Bex or Rich are there. Ha again! I see an ambulance in the middle of the runners over the crest of a rise, still a ways up. I am heartened and lead Jeanne on.
810. There's the ambulance. It's the only one around and it has '14' on it. Where's Michelle? I give Jeanne a hug and wish her well. She trudges off to the deepest end of slow pace group runners. I head to the side and look around. No sign of Michelle. I flip open my phone and it rings and rings. Finally she answers and we both start waving our arms in the air to find each other. AHHHHhhhhh!
815. Marines show off their new airplanes in a flyover. Big prop birds. I am curious what their specialty is. I leave my cell phone with M's hubby. He and Dad look relaxed and prepared. Michelle looks confident and focused. I fall into that mentality too. We bid adieu and wade out into the crowd to avoid the barricades down range from us. We kill time talking about our strategy. My watch is set for 9:50 timer repeats. We both expect a slow start and plenty of chances to catch up and maintain the smooth and strong race pace to reach our goals. We both believe we can do it.
840. We move up to the corrals vacated by the Scarlet wave that has already begun. I am wishing I had a 50 gallon garbage bag to haul off all the left behind sweatshirts, caps and gloves. In fact, I think that thought several times over the next two miles as we come across dropped duds for a long ways.
855 Rosslyn. We start, heading out of Arlington Cemetery to Rosslyn in a big slow wave. I avoid clothing, lines of walkers blocking the road, slow runners and the usual congestion of a big race. We stay together and look forward to heating up a little so we can drop our extra clothing. At an overpass, Michelle's hubby and dad were up there all alone. We waved and hollered and Dad unrolled his handmade cheer sign but held it upside down. We and everybody else starting hollering to him to turn it over. We snickered our way under the bridge and he still had it wrong; but eventually the runners behind us all cheered as he finally got it right. That was a hoot. The first mile we took for what it was - slow 11:11.
906 Lee Highway. Traffic was jammed along the highway as we ascended the most serious hills of the course. The road was smooth but the crowd was tough to navigate. There was one runner pushing a three seat jog stroller, two seats filled with kids and the other with supplies. Brave man, he was. At the crest of the hill we reached the two mile marker in 10:55. I was starting to perspire instead of shiver.
917, Mile 3. We zipped through some wide streets with a few slopes and turned downhill to run for the river. The road was becoming less thoroughfare and more residential so we were liking it. Closer to target, we hit the mile marker at 9:59.
927 Key Bridge. The crowd around us had that weekend long run frame of mind, it seemed, cruising along; some feeling frisky and passing in a flurry. There were no spectators, just a shady down slope route to water. I asked Michelle when she expected we might see Hubby and Dad again and she told me they'd be at the Key Bridge. We started to strip off our gloves and top shirts in anticipation. I jumped the road onto a grassy shoulder at one point to pass a slew of slowpokes. M followed. It reminded me of cross country and then of uneven ground and sprained ankles. I got back on the road. Mile 4 and M's men were right at the bridge along with a bevy of supporters. A quick stop to drop clothes went quickly and we had our first on-pace mile of 9:50.
937 Georgetown. Crossing the bridge was pleasant. We were able to cool off finally and the crossing was quick and scenic as we gazed upon the approaching architecture of Georgetown. A sweep down the main business street included a lot more cheering fans, a Starbucks we entertained a thought to stop at, and a realization that we would not be back to Virginia for awhile. Before long we hit Mile 5 in 9:55. M said it was time for Gu.
947 Orange Mile 6. Michelle started talking about the "next port-a-potty" but each one we passed had a line. While in the loop of roads that put us on Rock Creek Parkway I indulged in some orange slices offered by volunteers. Soon we were climbing the gradual slope up through Rock Creek. Fans were along the route cheering, the most successful situated under overpasses where their cheers echoed off the concrete. First wave runners were already coming back down the parkway as we went up. We found some pace and my timer beeped sooner than before as we crossed the marker in 9:22.
956 Rock Creek Parkway. How much prettier could it be running in this park with all the fall colors overhead, woods on both sides, trails off to somewhere and a marching band in the median playing cadence for us? Well we won't call it pretty but Michelle said she was detouring into the underbrush. I did the same and, in granting her more privacy, I went further down the embankment, practically to the creek. Little did I know how badly I needed to go. By the time I got back up to the road Michelle was already running on. She stopped and looked around and my panic abated. We kept on together but lost a minute to the woods. 10:35.
1006 Mile 8. We crested the parkway and turned back down. There was the man with the three kid jog stroller again plugging away. We took water close to the 8 mile mark and were on cruise control. No more clothes to shed. No more potty stops. Let's rock. 9:17. Whoa! That may have been too much rocking.
1015 Mile 9. So where will we see Dad and Hubby next? Michelle told me exactly where and sure enough they were at the base of Rock Creek Parkway holding up their day glo signs of encouragement. These guys were exhibiting some very punctual performance. We were good, didn't need anything and waved to them as we passed by. 9:31 pace.
1024 Kennedy Performing Arts Center. The air was cooler. The crowds were thinner and the road was flat. It was a nice stretch of running before the Gauntlet of Love up ahead on the Mall. 9:32. Making up time fairly well.
1034 The White House. We had an appointment to see W but we were late so skipped it. The immense and frothy crowds of spectators made running along Constitution Ave. an experience to remember. I soon realized I was running with a celebrity because everybody kept saying, "Go Michelle," or some variation every 40 yards or so. Oh; wait a minute. This savvy running chick had her name taped to her shirt. That's how she does it. Time: 9:08. Good grief. We were smoking. All that smooth, strong and s-l-o-w talk I'd given myself was getting lost in the cheers.
1043 Can I see my congressman? We approached Capitol Hill passing museums and people by the Metro load. We had some water in this mile to cool us down which was becoming necessary. We got back to some reality pace in 9:33.
1052 Smithsonian. The halfway mark was up ahead. As we turned west on the return leg parallel Independenence Avenue I began to feel the forecast wind blow. It started to become an annoyance. Michelle was not as bothered it seemed but I labored a little more to keep up. We hit M13 in 9:58 and a 2:10 half marathon time.
1102 WWII Memorial. I never saw the memorial but it was there, just beyond the Washington Monument. Like the military support team they are, M's hubby and dad were there at the 14th mile marker ready to change out fluid supplies for Michelle. She opted to drop her belt and plug on from there. I took on some Gatorade with appreciation and paused for an unattractive picture (me, not Michelle).
We reached the Studdlies (as Michelle calls them) in 10:57. The headwind must have been a factor. Yeah. That's it. It was then that Michelle asked me if I minded if we went on at our own pace. I said no, absolutely not; and she put in her ear buds and moved on. I slipped in right behind her heading for the Tidal Basin. That was the last time I saw her until X-Y-Z.
805. The start line inflatables are icons for how huge the Marine Corps Marathon is for runners. The announcer is telling us it's the fourth largest crowd in marathon history (anywhere). Music kicks in to pump up those of us who might possibly, per chance, still be calm. Ha!
Jeanne and I work our way up the side of the elite runners, the fast runners and the almost fast runners; beyond the Scarlet group altogether. I glanced once or twice at the crowds to see if Bex or Rich are there. Ha again! I see an ambulance in the middle of the runners over the crest of a rise, still a ways up. I am heartened and lead Jeanne on.
810. There's the ambulance. It's the only one around and it has '14' on it. Where's Michelle? I give Jeanne a hug and wish her well. She trudges off to the deepest end of slow pace group runners. I head to the side and look around. No sign of Michelle. I flip open my phone and it rings and rings. Finally she answers and we both start waving our arms in the air to find each other. AHHHHhhhhh!
815. Marines show off their new airplanes in a flyover. Big prop birds. I am curious what their specialty is. I leave my cell phone with M's hubby. He and Dad look relaxed and prepared. Michelle looks confident and focused. I fall into that mentality too. We bid adieu and wade out into the crowd to avoid the barricades down range from us. We kill time talking about our strategy. My watch is set for 9:50 timer repeats. We both expect a slow start and plenty of chances to catch up and maintain the smooth and strong race pace to reach our goals. We both believe we can do it.
840. We move up to the corrals vacated by the Scarlet wave that has already begun. I am wishing I had a 50 gallon garbage bag to haul off all the left behind sweatshirts, caps and gloves. In fact, I think that thought several times over the next two miles as we come across dropped duds for a long ways.
855 Rosslyn. We start, heading out of Arlington Cemetery to Rosslyn in a big slow wave. I avoid clothing, lines of walkers blocking the road, slow runners and the usual congestion of a big race. We stay together and look forward to heating up a little so we can drop our extra clothing. At an overpass, Michelle's hubby and dad were up there all alone. We waved and hollered and Dad unrolled his handmade cheer sign but held it upside down. We and everybody else starting hollering to him to turn it over. We snickered our way under the bridge and he still had it wrong; but eventually the runners behind us all cheered as he finally got it right. That was a hoot. The first mile we took for what it was - slow 11:11.
906 Lee Highway. Traffic was jammed along the highway as we ascended the most serious hills of the course. The road was smooth but the crowd was tough to navigate. There was one runner pushing a three seat jog stroller, two seats filled with kids and the other with supplies. Brave man, he was. At the crest of the hill we reached the two mile marker in 10:55. I was starting to perspire instead of shiver.
917, Mile 3. We zipped through some wide streets with a few slopes and turned downhill to run for the river. The road was becoming less thoroughfare and more residential so we were liking it. Closer to target, we hit the mile marker at 9:59.
927 Key Bridge. The crowd around us had that weekend long run frame of mind, it seemed, cruising along; some feeling frisky and passing in a flurry. There were no spectators, just a shady down slope route to water. I asked Michelle when she expected we might see Hubby and Dad again and she told me they'd be at the Key Bridge. We started to strip off our gloves and top shirts in anticipation. I jumped the road onto a grassy shoulder at one point to pass a slew of slowpokes. M followed. It reminded me of cross country and then of uneven ground and sprained ankles. I got back on the road. Mile 4 and M's men were right at the bridge along with a bevy of supporters. A quick stop to drop clothes went quickly and we had our first on-pace mile of 9:50.
937 Georgetown. Crossing the bridge was pleasant. We were able to cool off finally and the crossing was quick and scenic as we gazed upon the approaching architecture of Georgetown. A sweep down the main business street included a lot more cheering fans, a Starbucks we entertained a thought to stop at, and a realization that we would not be back to Virginia for awhile. Before long we hit Mile 5 in 9:55. M said it was time for Gu.
947 Orange Mile 6. Michelle started talking about the "next port-a-potty" but each one we passed had a line. While in the loop of roads that put us on Rock Creek Parkway I indulged in some orange slices offered by volunteers. Soon we were climbing the gradual slope up through Rock Creek. Fans were along the route cheering, the most successful situated under overpasses where their cheers echoed off the concrete. First wave runners were already coming back down the parkway as we went up. We found some pace and my timer beeped sooner than before as we crossed the marker in 9:22.
956 Rock Creek Parkway. How much prettier could it be running in this park with all the fall colors overhead, woods on both sides, trails off to somewhere and a marching band in the median playing cadence for us? Well we won't call it pretty but Michelle said she was detouring into the underbrush. I did the same and, in granting her more privacy, I went further down the embankment, practically to the creek. Little did I know how badly I needed to go. By the time I got back up to the road Michelle was already running on. She stopped and looked around and my panic abated. We kept on together but lost a minute to the woods. 10:35.
1006 Mile 8. We crested the parkway and turned back down. There was the man with the three kid jog stroller again plugging away. We took water close to the 8 mile mark and were on cruise control. No more clothes to shed. No more potty stops. Let's rock. 9:17. Whoa! That may have been too much rocking.
1015 Mile 9. So where will we see Dad and Hubby next? Michelle told me exactly where and sure enough they were at the base of Rock Creek Parkway holding up their day glo signs of encouragement. These guys were exhibiting some very punctual performance. We were good, didn't need anything and waved to them as we passed by. 9:31 pace.
1024 Kennedy Performing Arts Center. The air was cooler. The crowds were thinner and the road was flat. It was a nice stretch of running before the Gauntlet of Love up ahead on the Mall. 9:32. Making up time fairly well.
1034 The White House. We had an appointment to see W but we were late so skipped it. The immense and frothy crowds of spectators made running along Constitution Ave. an experience to remember. I soon realized I was running with a celebrity because everybody kept saying, "Go Michelle," or some variation every 40 yards or so. Oh; wait a minute. This savvy running chick had her name taped to her shirt. That's how she does it. Time: 9:08. Good grief. We were smoking. All that smooth, strong and s-l-o-w talk I'd given myself was getting lost in the cheers.
1043 Can I see my congressman? We approached Capitol Hill passing museums and people by the Metro load. We had some water in this mile to cool us down which was becoming necessary. We got back to some reality pace in 9:33.
1052 Smithsonian. The halfway mark was up ahead. As we turned west on the return leg parallel Independenence Avenue I began to feel the forecast wind blow. It started to become an annoyance. Michelle was not as bothered it seemed but I labored a little more to keep up. We hit M13 in 9:58 and a 2:10 half marathon time.
1102 WWII Memorial. I never saw the memorial but it was there, just beyond the Washington Monument. Like the military support team they are, M's hubby and dad were there at the 14th mile marker ready to change out fluid supplies for Michelle. She opted to drop her belt and plug on from there. I took on some Gatorade with appreciation and paused for an unattractive picture (me, not Michelle).
We reached the Studdlies (as Michelle calls them) in 10:57. The headwind must have been a factor. Yeah. That's it. It was then that Michelle asked me if I minded if we went on at our own pace. I said no, absolutely not; and she put in her ear buds and moved on. I slipped in right behind her heading for the Tidal Basin. That was the last time I saw her until X-Y-Z.
10.31.2006
This is my (3 part) story and I'm sticking to it
For now.
October 29, 2006, 5 a.m. - 8 a.m.
5 a.m. I woke up too early. So I went to the blogs. That is an easy way to kill some time and calm the nerves.
530 The marathon valet had done everything right for me. My layer-heavy wardrobe was laid out in perfect donning order: Shorts. West Point Army tech shirt. Socks. Kayanos with MCM ChampionChip attached. Disposable long sleeve cotton T-shirt. Army PT warm up uniform (black ankle-zippered pants and gray jacket with underarm zipper vents and light reflective striping). Breathable cap. Throw away gloves.
Applied body glide where it mattered. Loaded up with Gu in shorts hip pockets, sports beans in shorts waistband pocket, camera in zippered jacket pocket, $10 bill and debit card in other pocket and cell phone in pants pocket. Ready for breakfast.
600. Tiptoe downstairs for early morning breakfast party with my hosts' cat. I go for the toasted bagel and OJ. He goes for something really fish smelling that I stay away from. I study maps. I have two places to be this morning and am worried about how it will all work out. Just how far is Place A from Place B and how long will it take to get there among 30,000 or more people in a place I've never been to?
618. Knock on hosts bedroom door and hear him stir. The 15 minute warning for departure. That's all he asked for and all he needed. I finish eating and take a picture of me and the cat having breakfast together.
635. We're on our way. Gil knows the roads and manages to find a roundabout way to get past closed off roads on the marathon route to get me within 200 yards of the Iwo Jima Memorial.
655. Marines are everywhere sipping coffee, going over their briefing, checking gear, looking very ready for the day. I found it curious how many were officers. Lots of LTs. There was hardly a sergeant or corporal anywhere. I even saw a two star general walking around.
So where is Jeanne and the Charity Village? That is mission #1 for me.
It's downright nippy out. I'm shivering. Is it nerves or the chill? I presume the latter. I find the Autism tent and, voila, Miss Get Me To The Church Way Before It's Time is already there ready to go; or rather wishing she could go.
Here's somebody I've known for a year but only met in person 36 hours before and she's hinting as how the nature call has not happened today. I get the message loud and clear and express genuine concern; because I know the difference between running free with an empty load and wishing you could stop the clock and sit on the throne for however long it takes.
715. I grab a water bottle from the tent and check out the other charity runners getting ready. The T.A.P.S. folks are across the way. They are all running in memory of fallen military men and women. I pause to contemplate my good fortune that son T made it through seven months in Iraq.
Jeanne and I wander off to get a cup of coffee on the premise that caffeine has a motivating effect. She sips. I taste. It's Marines field quality mud and I endorse its chance of success for her.
We notice what Jeanne describes as Marines snipers up in a tall tower. I only saw them using binoculars but I was not going to argue with her on that.
720. We are waiting on Richie and Bex. We call Richie. Can you believe he was still in the hotel? He wouldn't believe us when we told him he had 55 minutes to get his butt to the starting line. Jeanne takes all the credit for his making it to the start on time.
Bex is en route but late. We sit in plastic chairs sedately, soaking up the warm rising sun. I am happy to be here where the crowds are thinner and everybody has a friend.
740. Okay Rich is out. Bex is closer but nowhere in sight. Jeanne has come back from an uneventful trip to the port-a-potties. The snipers haven't shot anybody and lots of folks are starting to head down to the start line. I chat with a few Autism benefit runners.
Why am I still here? I still have Mission #2 to accomplish. I call Michelle to see where she is. Approaching the start. I tell her to find a landmark and I'll call her when I get close so we can find each other. I hang up and cuss to myself because the valet failed to charge the cell phone the night before and I am down to one bar. I may need more juice than I have to connect with Michelle now and my host later, after the race. Air time is precious.
750. I take a picture of me and Jeanne from close range just before I say "it's time to go; Bex be damned." She agrees and we start heading down the hill that will be the Iwo Jima mountain for all of us when we finish the last .2 miles of the marathon.
800. We are approaching the front of the double inflatable Marine Corps arch start line. The noise is building. I need to find Michelle so call to get a fix on her location. Near Ambulance 14 on the west side of the road. Roger that.
October 29, 2006, 5 a.m. - 8 a.m.
5 a.m. I woke up too early. So I went to the blogs. That is an easy way to kill some time and calm the nerves.
530 The marathon valet had done everything right for me. My layer-heavy wardrobe was laid out in perfect donning order: Shorts. West Point Army tech shirt. Socks. Kayanos with MCM ChampionChip attached. Disposable long sleeve cotton T-shirt. Army PT warm up uniform (black ankle-zippered pants and gray jacket with underarm zipper vents and light reflective striping). Breathable cap. Throw away gloves.
Applied body glide where it mattered. Loaded up with Gu in shorts hip pockets, sports beans in shorts waistband pocket, camera in zippered jacket pocket, $10 bill and debit card in other pocket and cell phone in pants pocket. Ready for breakfast.
600. Tiptoe downstairs for early morning breakfast party with my hosts' cat. I go for the toasted bagel and OJ. He goes for something really fish smelling that I stay away from. I study maps. I have two places to be this morning and am worried about how it will all work out. Just how far is Place A from Place B and how long will it take to get there among 30,000 or more people in a place I've never been to?
618. Knock on hosts bedroom door and hear him stir. The 15 minute warning for departure. That's all he asked for and all he needed. I finish eating and take a picture of me and the cat having breakfast together.
635. We're on our way. Gil knows the roads and manages to find a roundabout way to get past closed off roads on the marathon route to get me within 200 yards of the Iwo Jima Memorial.
655. Marines are everywhere sipping coffee, going over their briefing, checking gear, looking very ready for the day. I found it curious how many were officers. Lots of LTs. There was hardly a sergeant or corporal anywhere. I even saw a two star general walking around.
So where is Jeanne and the Charity Village? That is mission #1 for me.
It's downright nippy out. I'm shivering. Is it nerves or the chill? I presume the latter. I find the Autism tent and, voila, Miss Get Me To The Church Way Before It's Time is already there ready to go; or rather wishing she could go.
Here's somebody I've known for a year but only met in person 36 hours before and she's hinting as how the nature call has not happened today. I get the message loud and clear and express genuine concern; because I know the difference between running free with an empty load and wishing you could stop the clock and sit on the throne for however long it takes.
715. I grab a water bottle from the tent and check out the other charity runners getting ready. The T.A.P.S. folks are across the way. They are all running in memory of fallen military men and women. I pause to contemplate my good fortune that son T made it through seven months in Iraq.
Jeanne and I wander off to get a cup of coffee on the premise that caffeine has a motivating effect. She sips. I taste. It's Marines field quality mud and I endorse its chance of success for her.
We notice what Jeanne describes as Marines snipers up in a tall tower. I only saw them using binoculars but I was not going to argue with her on that.
720. We are waiting on Richie and Bex. We call Richie. Can you believe he was still in the hotel? He wouldn't believe us when we told him he had 55 minutes to get his butt to the starting line. Jeanne takes all the credit for his making it to the start on time.
Bex is en route but late. We sit in plastic chairs sedately, soaking up the warm rising sun. I am happy to be here where the crowds are thinner and everybody has a friend.
740. Okay Rich is out. Bex is closer but nowhere in sight. Jeanne has come back from an uneventful trip to the port-a-potties. The snipers haven't shot anybody and lots of folks are starting to head down to the start line. I chat with a few Autism benefit runners.
Why am I still here? I still have Mission #2 to accomplish. I call Michelle to see where she is. Approaching the start. I tell her to find a landmark and I'll call her when I get close so we can find each other. I hang up and cuss to myself because the valet failed to charge the cell phone the night before and I am down to one bar. I may need more juice than I have to connect with Michelle now and my host later, after the race. Air time is precious.
750. I take a picture of me and Jeanne from close range just before I say "it's time to go; Bex be damned." She agrees and we start heading down the hill that will be the Iwo Jima mountain for all of us when we finish the last .2 miles of the marathon.
800. We are approaching the front of the double inflatable Marine Corps arch start line. The noise is building. I need to find Michelle so call to get a fix on her location. Near Ambulance 14 on the west side of the road. Roger that.
10.29.2006
5:13:07
It was fun running with Michelle for 14+ miles but, after she said goodbye, I shuffled along feeling fine but tired enough to walk a little. Then at mile 25, going down a highway ramp, my right knee said, "NO more running" no matter how much I tried to start up through the pain.
I thought I had an attainable PR (long after I gave up the fantasy medal rounds of 4:15, 4:20 and 4:30). With three miles to go I had a chance. Then I didn't.
It was a beautiful day to race. The course was good throughout. The crowds were awesome.
Best excitement of the race was seeing Eric W. (from RI) twice on the second half of the race who was there cheering on a girl friend; and seeing Susie and David coming off Hains Point. She gave me a hug and took my picture.
Michelle's husband and dad were awesome. They were everywhere and they were prepared with a full game plan of support for Michelle who I admire immensely for her stamina and success today. Ditto to Richie, Bex and Jeanne. Thanks for the comradery.
I thought I had an attainable PR (long after I gave up the fantasy medal rounds of 4:15, 4:20 and 4:30). With three miles to go I had a chance. Then I didn't.
It was a beautiful day to race. The course was good throughout. The crowds were awesome.
Best excitement of the race was seeing Eric W. (from RI) twice on the second half of the race who was there cheering on a girl friend; and seeing Susie and David coming off Hains Point. She gave me a hug and took my picture.
Michelle's husband and dad were awesome. They were everywhere and they were prepared with a full game plan of support for Michelle who I admire immensely for her stamina and success today. Ditto to Richie, Bex and Jeanne. Thanks for the comradery.
I'll get that hour later
I am up already, despite the opportunity to have another hour sleep. I am fighting the nerves. Shouldn't this be just like a 23 mile training run? with 3.2 extra? I was composed for that.
And why does Jeanne want to meet at 7 a.m.? The race starts at 8:40.
I have to find Michelle because she is arriving on her own time at a different place. It's these pre-race meet-ups that get complicated and create the anxiety, maybe.
And why does Jeanne want to meet at 7 a.m.? The race starts at 8:40.
I have to find Michelle because she is arriving on her own time at a different place. It's these pre-race meet-ups that get complicated and create the anxiety, maybe.
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