Forward Momentum.

Last year, I was all excited to sign up for the RocknStroll 5k.  Admission to Riverfest, a race, a Travelers game??  I talked Katie into it and we signed up ourselves and the boys.  Fast forward to race morning.  We go and pick up our stuff and then my unenthusiastic sister suggests that we ditch the race for IHOP.  The boys jumped on it and I was overruled.

So this year, when I saw that volunteering ALSO involved admission to Riverfest AND added to my plan of more race volunteering, I suggested it to Jessica.  She was willing.  I didn't run it by Ty.  I knew what his answer would be.  He got roused from a nice sound sleep on race morning and was a little incredulous that I was actually serious.  We went.  It was great, though Ty wasn't into it and Jessica's main job was to pacify him.  See him getting his head rubbed over there?  We made some new friends there, too.

Time passes, however slow it seems, however much the slowness of it sometimes tears at me, and school ended.  I can't convey the way I had to drag myself through the last few weeks, the way two weeks felt like months, the way I felt surrounded by heavy water whenever I thought about getting done.  But it happened, and the last day meant time to celebrate.  I'm lucky to have a wonderful friend like Jurel to celebrate with.  As the evening went on, I realize that I could breathe again.  It took some time, some deep breaths, some letting go.  Some sitting.

The next week we were all off to the work retreat.  We went to the Win
Rockefeller Institute for the retreat.  I didn't know what to expect, really,
and I was both pleased and disappointed.  Disappointed--because I think a retreat is more about forming relationships and breaching boundaries than it is about looking at data and rehashing information that has been gone over and gone over.  We can do so much more when we understand each other.  But the relationship forming was a very small piece of the official agenda--though we tried to make up for it after hours, which was quite pleasing.  Out of respect for the guilty I'm not posting pictures of the after-party, but I got to know lots of coworkers better than I knew them before, and I got a great run in one morning.  It was a beautiful place.  Paula and I borrowed bicycles for one afternoon and rode into Petit Jean State Park and went to the overlook.  It was beautiful.  This photo, though, was taken on the Win Rockefeller grounds at a small overlook that was just a short walk from where we stayed.  It speaks to a good bit of what Arkansas is to me--my home, a patchwork of colors and memories, both growing and dormant.  It's consistently surprising to me in a strange way to picture memories so clearly in my mind and remember that I will never be going back there again.  Luckily this view of Arkansas is never farther away than the top of Pinnacle Mountain.

This last weekend I participated in the pre-run of the 3 Bridges Marathon coming up in December. It was a course I knew pretty well--the river trail--but I got to do it with friends.  We were lucky to have cloud cover and took our time--lots of opportunities for photos.  Annette took this one of me out in front of the Clinton Library.  See that tiny dot in the middle?  Yeah, that's me.  It was a tough run but a reminder of how happy I am to be part of the running community here.  I'm looking forward to the race in December.

I'm looking forward to a lot of things.  More races: the Full Moon 50k is coming up in July, and in two weeks I'm running a no-frills, 1 mile out and back by the river.  I figure I'll bring a cooler of ice and water and gatorade and I can dunk my head in it if I need to.  Why not run a mile back and forth 26 times?  I'm looking forward to changing seasons, holidays, next steps, growing friendships...to life.

Moments.

I got out this morning for the first of two runs today. Even though it's hard for me to wake up early, I've missed mornings. Summer mornings, actually. When it's cooler but not cool, the light is diffuse, and the air is still. 

I was listening to pandora. I felt heavy and clunky and slow. I had hoped to run 5 but decided four would be better because of my slower pace and need to get ready for work. 

On north first street, an Ani DiFranco song came on, another live version. She talked first, about being in Italy and meeting someone, (re-meeting someone), and said she was playing a song for her, one she just finished writing that night. When she started playing, I stood still and looked up in front of me. Smudges of cloud marched away from the sun on my left, and morning light shimmered, on the verge of dissipating. I opened thankfully to it. Thankfully, I remembered how to see it, how to let my soul mingle with the sun. 

When I started running again I wasn't thinking about myself or my legs or my breathing. I was picturing that re-meeting on a street in Italy, greetings and smiles and laughter. "I was no picnic, I was no prize." No, I was not. Am not. 

Volunteering, running, marathoning...

I'm starting with the most recent and working back.
Sunday we volunteered at the RocknStroll 5k at Riverfest.  I had warned Ty that I would be dragging him out of bed early Sunday morning, but I don't think he took me very seriously.  When I woke him up Sunday morning, he was a bit incredulous.  I got him moving and we made it down to Heifer Village  only a few minutes late.  Before too long, I was cutting up bananas like it was a my job.  Along with two other super nice volunteers, we got the food sliced and set up and ready to go--with time left to visit.  Jessica got there in time to deal with a whiny 12 year old who was ready to go home--and that's a pretty big job!

My first race volunteer experience was over a year ago at the first Women Can Run 5k.  This was race number 3 for volunteering, but I plan for there to be plenty more.  I don't run many 5k's now, but I used to, and I've benefited from hundreds of volunteers over the years I've been running.  I'm ready to be there for more people.  So much goes into making these races happen.  Also, as I saw Sunday, volunteering can help you meet more people, and more awesome people in the running community.  I'm so into that.

Saturday was the Rock Run 8k.  This was my first year to do this one.  I was super happy that Carrie decided to do the run---it's much more fun with friends, even when your friends are faster than you!!  Carrie met me Saturday morning and we rode up together.  Greg was (as usual!!) nice enough to snap a picture of me and share it.  If you don't know Greg, you should.  He has been a friend since before my first marathon and has been nice enough to snap and share pictures going back to my first Hogeye Marathon.

The 8k was fun, but was closer to 5 miles than I realized.  I managed a decent pace--I pushed harder than I did at Toad Suck or the Capital City Classic--and I hope to get a few points in the Grand Prix.  It was great to know that some new runners turned out for the race--Carrie introduced me to a runner from the Cabot WCR clinic.  Since I haven't run this race before, I don't know what the course has been like in the past, but I like the out and back.  It's good to see friends and familiar faces and be able to cheer and be cheered.

Now for the River City Marathon in Peoria, Illinois a week ago.  We left early Saturday morning so that we could make it up to get packets at the expo and have dinner and check in to the hotel.  The drive was long and uneventful, for the most part.  It was good to share it with friends, and Jessica was surprised (was she really?) to see just how long we can talk about running.

The parts of Peoria that we got to see were really nice.  The riverfront is pretty and the expo was open and full of some good, affordable race and running stuff.  We enjoyed the weather while feeling cautious about the heat of the coming race.  The pace teams had been changed in anticipation of a hot day and we were told to be conservative in our expectations for time.  I was oblivious.

I really was.  I had thought briefly about the 4:10 pace team, even, but I settled on the 4:20 pacer.  I thought a 4:20 marathon would be a nice tough challenge but not that big of a deal.  I ran a 4:12 marathon in Little Rock not that long ago, right?  Yeah.

I started out ok.  The pacer was nice and talkative and had some plans to bring the group together as a team.  I love talking and meeting new people in a race.  I was feeling the speed, but hell, I felt it in Little Rock.  I hung in there...until The Hill.  It had been spoken of, this hill at mile 7, but until I was running up  it, I wasn't prepared.  About 3/4 of the way up it, I handed the pacer sign over and started walking--and that was it for me and a 4:20 finish.  I first attempted to run from aid station to aid station.  I was still feeling pretty crappy, though, and it was damn early in the race. Finally, I caved totally and started counting steps.  I ran 75 and walked 25 steps for a good while and finally started to feel better.

Peoria, at least the parts we saw, was genuinely wonderful.  The neighborhoods were  nice and the people were nicer.  So many people were out in their yards--more than I've seen at any race.  The cheering was great--even when they said, "You got this!"  And I thought, you don't know that!!  And I don't look strong!  I look like crap!

But yeah, I kept putting one foot in front of the other.  Over and over and over and fucking over, seriously.  It was one of those races where starting again after walking was sometimes a pure act of spirit and will over body.  I wanted to cry at times.  I teared up.  It just sucked.  It was hot.  I hit up every water hose and sprinkler and dumped water on myself at every water stop.  Sometimes when I dumped water on myself, I could barely feel it.

The last mile or so I ran with a guy from the pace team that I left.  They had left it, too.  It perked me up to run and talk with some people for a while.  Finally crossing the finish was a huge relief.

I wandered aimlessly looking for Jessica.  My calves cramped up horribly and I had to sit twice before I got to a good spot to sit and borrow a phone.  I pouted.  But it was marathon number 16 with a finish in 80 + degree weather.  I got it.

And it was Ruthanne's qualifying race for the maniacs.  I would definitely do it again, and I would recommend the River City Marathon to anyone.  I'm sure that next year will be even better.

Women Can Run 2013

This morning I volunteered for the second year in a row at the Women Can Run 5k in Conway.  I was so touched last year watching people cross the finish line.  This year I worked the food instead so I didn't get to see all the victorious faces celebrating, but I still had a great time.  I have been so proud of Paula for sticking with Women Can Run and improving so much over the last few months.  Today was no different.

 The thing that is so different about this year is that I know, actually know, so many people in the running community.  Last year I barely knew anyone.  I showed up, volunteered, and went home.  This year, after helping clean up the concession stand, I went down to the field to sit with the Cruisers during the awards.  I'm continually blessed by the friends I have made through running.  Watching someone else grow stronger from running and get the amazing feelings I remember from the beginning is also a huge blessing.  My life is enriched so much through everything that has happened in the years since I became a runner.

An event is barely complete without a photo op with Carrie and Christine.  Here's the Foxy Lady and the Supermodel right here.  You know who's missing?  Ruthanne!!



I have missed the last race or two with regard to blog posts.
I kept putting it off because I wanted to transfer pictures over
to my computer and I'm lazy lazy lazy. Now it seems too long ago and to be honest I'm not in the best blogging frame of mind.  We have another marathon road trip next weekend--this time to Illinois, so I will make sure that I make that post happen soon after we get back.  I've had this blog going since 2011 now and so so much has changed since then.  I'm rolling with it.

Little Rock Marathon!

The fun started Friday night with our trip to the expo.  Paula and Jennifer followed Ruthanne, Carrie, and me so they could get their 5k stuff.  The expo is always exciting and this year there were some good photo ops!  The theme of this year's race was Lucky--I figured at first that this was the 13th Little
Rock Marathon, but it was the 11th.  It's 2013, though, so I guess we needed some luck to go along with the year.  There were cowboy shirts, country music, hats--and a horse.  We had some fun with the horse.Well....the rest of us didn't have as much fun as Carrie had.  If you ask her she'll say she was coerced, but that doesn't show in the photo evidence.

Paula, we found, makes a very convincing looking farm hand/cowboy/horse wrangler.  Maybe the teaching thing is a front??

We popped into the Go! Running VIP party for a bit and then said goodbye to Paula and Jennifer and headed out for some dinner and drinks.  I was determined to eat right to prepare for this marathon, and Annette Blanton told us that the meal two nights before was where you really get your energy for the race, so I went with pasta.  We had a great time and there was much laughter and conversation that cannot be reproduced on this blog.  Let's just say it has to do with underthings--or the lack of them--and leave it at that.







I spent Saturday morning working at the AP prep

session at North Pulaski.  It was snowing!  I guess Paula and Jennifer and the other 5k-ers got to deal with wind-blown snow flurries for their race.  I griped about the weather.

I was nervous about this race because I really wanted to PR.  I set my previous PR at the Little Rock Marathon in 2012--it was marathon 2 for me.  Then I went on to run 10 more races in the next year, but I didn't beat that time of 4:22.  I came sort of close at White River (4:27, I think?) and at Mississippi River (4:25), but this time I felt like I was as ready as I would be to PR and I knew the course and what to expect.  Except I was nervous.  There was no "I'll just run it and have fun."  I wanted to PR and everyone knew that I wanted to PR.  I wanted to at least finish under 4:20.

I had thought about starting out with the 4:25 group again like last year, but they were in the C corral and I was in the Open corral.  They were definitely being strict about the wave start so I began the race on my own.  It was chilly but not uncomfortable.  I ditched my warm up pants before the start and lost the sweatshirt fairly soon after.

In North Little Rock I was happy to see Claudia, Dave, Evelyn, and Gloria waiting for me to come by.  I knew when to look for them so I made sure to be on the side of the road where they would be.  It was great to have some cheers from friends on the side of the course and even cooler to see them when I came back the other way.  High fives are a good burst of energy.  I was keeping a good pace.

Around mile 9 my legs started to feel really tired and I got worried--with my legs feeling tired then, I didn't know how I would be able to keep that pace for the rest of the race.  Plus, I was feeling the hills before we even got to the hills.

I got a boost when I caught up to the 4:25 pace team--I chatted a little with the pacers--they were the same ones who led that pace team last year and ran with them for the first half.  It was a boost to chat for a minute and also because I could feel that their pace was slower than what I had been running and that I could run faster, and I went on.

The hill up into the heights felt longer than before.  Not only that, but I felt like it never really leveled out until we started going downhill.  Finally heading down felt better.  It was actually a relief to get to the bottom and head down the river trail--plus--at mile 18 I was still on pace for a good PR and felt deep into the race.

The out and back has a reputation for being long and boring--and it is--except that there was plenty of yelling back and forth from maniac to maniac and friend to friend.  That helped break up the monotony.  A couple of maniacs were at the turnaround taking pictures and there were laughter and smiles.  I passed mile 22 and was waiting...and waiting...for mile 23, for knowing there were only 3 miles to go, and that I could walk through the water station.  When I finally looked down at my garmin and it said 23.5, I thought it might be a mistake--how could I have missed that mile marker?  But it wasn't, and soon Cantrell, mile 24, and the evil final hills were in sight.

 I knew that with the way I was feeling I would have to walk some.  I also knew I had plenty of time and didn't have to worry much about my PR at that point.  I probably would have been able to gather more energy and push harder if I had been closer to my old time--which is both good and bad.  On the last tough hill I saw Greg, who snapped this picture,


and then I caught up with Barco and got a bear hug and a few steps from him.  I was so close and so tired and just kept telling myself hell yes, oh god hell yes, go get this PR.  I kept glancing down at my garmin to make sure that I was right about the time.  I remembered to stop the timer as I crossed the finish line and felt tears and disbelief and having finished in 4:11:52.  I staggered over to get the chip cut off my shoe, get that heavy medal, and have a picture snapped.  Kristin, Shawn, and Kennedy were there at the finish and came around inside the park to spend some time with me--it was so great to see them and spend a few minutes celebrating my PR with friends.

Kristin took this picture of me with my medal to go with the somewhat hideous--but still appreciated--one that she took as I was crossing the finish.  I got my post-race beer and we walked a bit.  I felt great about my time and my legs didn't get that super heavy painful feeling that they sometimes get right after a race.  Kristin and Shawn left with Kennedy and I found a spot by the finish line to watch people.  That was an amazing thing to see, all of those people so elated with their accomplishment, huge smiles, and I loved marathoning even more then, seeing the things people can do, knowing everything that they did to get to that point, and seeing it become reality.  At one point I teared up as a much older lady crossed.  She had a half-marathon bib on and was doing a stiff walk--you could just tell that she had probably been doing that same walk through the whole 13.1 miles she had just covered, and what an amazing display of determination and refusal to do anything but achieve, put herself out there and just do it!! So many people tell me they could never do it.  What about the man who had his lower leg in a boot.  He had his leg bent at the knee and on a wheeled scooter and he was slowly pushing himself long with the other leg.  Or the guy in the wheelchair who was pushing himself up the mountain into the heights.  Or the many, many people who were older or who were still carrying the extra weight who I passed from the early start--by 11:30 when I started passing them, they had been going since 6 and had hours left.  One of the maniacs who had been taking pictures did some dancing at the finish--impromptu entertainment!  Many people grabbed hands with a running partner to cross together, looking so thrilled and triumphant.

After Carrie and Ruthanne finished, Ruthanne went to see her family and Carrie and I grabbed a spot on the grass to relax.  I had stayed on my feet since the finish and it felt good to get off of them.  We stayed there until Ruthanne was ready.  I kept my hood pulled over my face to avoid any more sun, since I forgot again to put on sunscreen.  We then staggered out, brought the swagger wagon down, and went to Sticky Fingerz for some beer and snacks.  More fun, more inappropriate laughter, and a slightly inebriated Carrie are what we had to show for that.

The server was nice enough to capture these moments for us, which Ruthanne put together and shared with me.  The medals do hide our whole faces, and there was clearly some hilarity as well.  Running friends get into your life and heart quickly and make the whole experience so much bigger and more special.  I look forward to many more races with the friends I have made and the ones who are to come.  I'm so thankful to be able to do what I do and feel great doing it.  I can never fully explain what running means to me and why I do it.  It's part of my heart and soul now.

I'll just leave you with this close-up of Carrie's friend from the expo.

My reacquaintance with poetry; Mississippi River Marathon

there is fury in running.
in the narrowed vision
determination
pain
and the embrace of it
breaking, and
breaking, and
breaking.

there is pleasure in running
my cradle
endlessly rocking
darkness
call of soul
to self
breathing,
and breathing,
and breathing.


The Mississippi River Marathon on Saturday was pretty wonderful if you discount the Friday night experience.  To say the pasta place was overwhelmed is a ridiculous understatement.  Carrie and I had a glass of wine each and then left, as people who had been waiting 2 hours finally started to get their food.  Siri sent us the wrong direction to our hotel, and we ate McDonalds at almost ten.

Still, Saturday morning we were up and boarding buses to head to the start for this point to point marathon.  It was chilly.  We learned that a good-size space blanket will keep three people comfortably warm if you aren't afraid to cuddle.  We weren't.





I learned something important to remember about my marathoning self on Saturday.  Several times now I have said, either to myself or to other people, or both, that I am going to run this marathon slow.  I don't care about time, I am just going to enjoy it and take it easy.  I did do that at Run for the Ranch, except that I was pretty miserable the whole time because of the cold.  But usually around half way through my competitive-against-myself nature comes out and I want to do better.

We did start out on the slow side.  At the bridge we were on pace to run about a 4:35 when I went on ahead without Carrie.  Alone with myself then, I picked up the pace.  I went inside myself.  I felt solid, good.  I decided to sort of go for a PR.  Why not?  Marathoning for me is about rawness at its core, achieving something up against myself.  Pushing, yanking, throwing, digging.  So I did that. 

I missed a PR by 3 minutes.  I ran a really negative split: 2:19 in the first half, and 2:05 in the second half.  I'm really happy with it because I know that if I can get that close last week with no taper and with a first half that including some messing around, I can PR in Little Rock.  (Knock on wood and such.)

Next weekend is the Run the Line Half-Marathon.  With friends--the best way to do it.

Beyond-ness.

Tonight I ran five miles.  I got started a bit late because I got pulled over for having a taillight out.  And then I made Ty's dinner, changed, and hit the road. I had already decided it was a Chris Pureka night, so I put her on shuffle.

I stopped to take pictures several times, but other than that, I ran it fast.  For me.  And I thought about words and smells and feelings.  I tried to hold them in my mind.

Up North First Street I was pushing hard.  I was running fast and pushing myself to keep it going.  My eyes were narrowed and the world was bumping up and down while I was smooth.  The stoplights in front of me jerked in time with my feet hitting the ground.  I pushed for my breath to hurt, to burn in my chest.  And I thought of sort of a word that captured what I was feeling at that moment.  I tried to catch it and hold onto  it, and I thought that I had.

But when I slowed down and started letting my thoughts wander, I came back looking for it and it was gone.  I pushed through my  brain for it, but it had left.  I only knew one thing to try--run fast again and see if I could find it.  So I did.  I increased my speed again, gritted, thought of determination and fuckitness and then, there it was---beyond-ness.  That feeling of being beyond in my body, beyond what is there when I'm not pushing hard, when the sidewalk is a tunnel and the song lyrics are mixing in poetry that I can't write.

Poetry that I can only run, a rhythm that played itself with my words and the lines from the song.  I can't write it because it only exists on that plane, that heartbeat, in that vein of pumping that is something like sex but only in certain moments, and not the climactic ones.  The ones that are made of sculpture, of instinct, of existence and not thinking-ness.

The last half mile I wanted to run fast enough to breathe hard, be out of breath, feel the heat of my chest catching at the air.  I told myself, open your mouth and the air will flow.  Just open your mouth and let your body breathe.  It knows how to breathe.  It was dark.  I was dark.

When I finished I put my hands on my knees for a minute and fished for the feeling.  Euphoria?  Warmth in my limbs, aliveness and power and a gloriously used feeling.  I walked the rest of the way home in a cocoon of spent exertion and felt like I could keep walking blindly on.  But, of course, I didn't.

Mississippi Blues and more.

It's been a week since Mississippi Blues.  It seems like it's been longer!  Maybe that's because I had to go back to work last week.  It made the week seem very long.  Well, I have to work to support my running habit, so it's a good thing.

Mississippi Blues was super fun.  Probably anyone who reads this will have seen the pictures on facebook, but here they are with commentary.

My computer is being really weird right now and not letting me size things.  Here we are before.  No blues--just happy people getting ready to run a marathon.  I'm so happy to be meeting so many new people!  Running has brought so much strength into my life, and now it's bringing more and more people.  Some of them I see, and some of them get added on facebook and I get to see what's going on with them from different parts of the country.  Either way I love it.

My during shots are courtesy of I don't really
know who.  They were loaded to facebook and
I saved them.  Here's Annette and me and below is
Carrie and me.  I'm clearly never going to be a career blogger because my photo placement capabilities continue to be a challenge.  The race started off fine and pretty much stayed fine.  We stopped along the way for some photo ops and saw so many familiar faces along the course.  There are more pictures I should include but they are on my phone...and I'm a little lazy.

I went ahead of Carrie toward the half and spent the last 10 miles or so with Julie from Minneapolis.  She was running her 50th marathon and we bonded over hill walking, mostly.  There were a lot of hills.  I was glad to have the company to take my mind off of the running a little.  And it's always nice to share the time with someone new.

No race is complete without the post race food, and we really lucked out with our choice near Vicksburg.  The salsa was good and spicy and the vegetarian fajitas were amazing, particularly the broccoli and cauliflower.  The corona light was great, too, but of course what makes it best is the company, as always.  Whether it's my friends and family down in the river market or my running family on the road, being able to share times like these with friends is a huge blessing in my life.

This morning on my cold rainy 10 mile run I was thinking about a friend and all the things I want for her right now.  As I was thinking and praying, I realized that everything I was praying for for her, I needed in myself, too.  Peace and comfort to deal with hard times, strength to make the difficult decisions, clear sight and understanding to know the right thing to do, or at least to see the truth inside myself and act on it.  The self-preservation to reach for the hands that are there to bring comfort and laughter and happiness.  And I was talking to another friend about happiness, about how it comes as quickly and sometimes fleetingly as other emotions.  We all want to "be happy" as if happy is something other than every other feeling, some kind of constant state of being.  It's not.  It's a feeling just like any other, a good one, and when it comes, it must be wallowed in, swum in, taken in, swished around, allowed to tumble over my face--even if everything else in life is upside down or sideways.  It can't be pursued--I have to do the things that I need to do and trust that happiness will come in one form or another.

As my friend Kristin assured me would happen, I am not waiting until Little Rock to race again.  Just last night I felt a momentary pang at not having another race soon, and this morning I saw on facebook that spots had opened up in the Mississippi River Marathon.  So I signed up.

There are highs.

My state of mind defies explanation these days.  It is alarmingly simplistic to suggest that there are highs and lows, though there are.  The highs are sometimes in the same place as the lows: tears that are about pain that is born from loving.  The lows come maybe when you think there will be highs to distract you.  Either way, the fact remains that there are highs, and I sing about that.

Run for the Ranch was miserably cold and windy, but it was super fun and full of memory-making because of the people involved.  I'll mostly let the pictures do the talking.

We left at 6:45 in the morning and stopped at Hardees (somewhere in North Arkansas!) for breakfast.  We ate and then had some photo ops.

Carrie can't seem to get her eyes on the camera, though.  In the jukebox one I was pretty sure she was looking out the window for dudes.



Once we got to Springfield we had plenty of time to kill.  We got bibs and chips and shirts and stayed warm in the car until time to go back inside to get ready.  We had a maniac group shot on the steps, and then a couple of shots with Annette, Carrie, and me.

I loved on some huge dogs and leaned against one to get warm while we were waiting for the start.  He had a serious labrador lean going on, but he was much bigger than a lab.  I had dog hair all over my tights but it was totally worth it.




I thought I would warm up during the race but I was sort of wrong.  I didn't think enough of the wind and also didn't take into account that it would get dark during this race and get cooler.  I definitely should have worn my running jacket.  I would have been more comfortable.  Carrie and I entertained each other (and some other runners) with stories, singing, and a few rounds of dirty ABC game.  I find myself to be much more funny, apparently, than the people around me find me to be.  Whatever--Zero of 'em!

I didn't feel really strong at any point in the race, really.  It was probably a combination of a few things--maybe a couple too many beers the night before, not enough to eat before the race, soda before the race, cold wind, and maybe too quick of a pace starting out.  A few times I really did question my ability to finish.  We slowed down considerably for the second half and, through a combination of really bad singing and a ridiculous amount of whining and threatening to quit and announcing my hatred for marathons, we finished.

I wanted nothing more than to get warm, but the lobby area where we were sitting was not warm.  Carrie and I huddled under space blankets.  We both had warm clothes in the car just across the street, but the thought of going back outside and walking down steps was too much.  So we just sat there and suffered.





Finally, we headed out to get what I'd been singing about for hours: food and beer.  I had never been to Red Robin before--only heard the obnoxious commercials.  I thought it was a fast-food burger joint, but Arland and Annette assured me we could get beer there, so I was game.  I drank that big blue moon in the picture, two of those shots, and a pint of Mother's Three Blind Mice, a local Springfield brew.  I ate some salad.  We laughed.  Dinner and drinks post-race may have been the best part.

We piled back in the car to head home and the girls completely flaked on entertaining Arland for the drive.  I think I was asleep within minutes until I woke up at a gas station.  The clerk there acted like he wanted to card me for my scratch off tickets.  He said I looked 23 and I asked him if he wanted to get married.  He said I made his night.

My day and night were made by new friends.  The best part: we get to do it all again this weekend for the Mississippi Blues Marathon!