Marathon ( 1st half)
05-08-06, 4:25 PM

Not exactly the day after the race but, nonetheless, I�m finally have time to write about the marathon, mainly because it is Derby Week-end and the city basically shuts down and parties all week. Actually, the parties and events began a month ago but it�s Oaks Day which is attended mostly by locals who don�t want to fork over small fortunes on Derby Day when they can go to track for a couple of bucks verses the $40 General Admission to the infield or the thousands to sit in the Grand Stand.

Me? What are my Derby plans? Originally, I thought to take a tent, a picnic basket and chairs and reluctantly hand-over my $40 dollars for the Derby but after seeing what the track limits you and the costs for beer and food, I then had second thoughts. $6 for a beer? $6 of $7 for a slice of pizza? Being limited to only one 18� x 18� clear plastic bag containing food? I can�t bring in lotion or sunscreen? I have to pay $6 for the track�s sunscreen? Fuck you, the sunscreen was the deal breaker. This is just plain greedy.

Back to my marathon experience�Friday, I took a vacation day in order to lounge around the house and carbo load in front the television with endless movies. Instead, my day was packed and anything but restful.

Around 8 a.m. I ran my last mile on the same one mile loop where my training began back in July where a beautiful, lean, long legged woman lapped me and checked her watch while passing me. At the time, I was embarrassed because, unwittingly over a five year period of non-running and resting on laurels of past marathon accomplishments, I let myself go and gained forty-three pounds. Whoa! Did I not have a mirror? During my morning run, I recalled my training runs of being the sole person on a cold, moon-lit winter nights, the single digit degree Saturday run in a snow storm and now the ability to pass the geriatric walkers in the park. Where is that long legged babe now?

Afterwards, before picking-up the girl, I made a trip to the grocery store for pasta, gnocchi, Italian bread and sushi for our pre-race lunch and dinner. Returning home, I was still cleaning the house and making preparations for our post-run collapse on the bed with paralyzing muscular pain. Jokingly, we thought to leave a twenty taped to the door for the pizza man and directions to come into the house and bedroom to deliver the pizza but that seemed a little too odd of a request.

By eleven o�clock, the girl and I went to the Fitness Expo one more time to register my personal Champion Chip; grab a few free swag water bottles; and , for her to purchase a fanny pack for her GU. We learned nearly 1,000 runners registered for the marathon but 7,800+ are running the �mini-marathon�. Arrogantly, we thumbed our noses at the 1/2ers and jokingly called them �losers� because they only trained � as much. Sadly, the � marathon gets all the publicity and exposure.

Around 1:30 or 2 p.m. we finally made it back to my home where we planned to rest on my bed but mutually agree that sex was prohibited in order to build our glycogen levels. With a day off from work, dressed in shorts and lean bodies, how long do you thin we would honor our agreement? Good thing for carbo loading because I lasted about ten minutes before on her and releasing anxiety, among other things, for nearly two hours.
Now with hearty appetites, our pasta dinner included the best noodles on earth, Barilla Bucatini Ragati! You�ll never go back to ordinary spaghetti. The previous week, I boasted of these noodles only to learn that Kroger no longer carried it at our local store � first my favorite vodka sauce and now this! Luckily, I had a � pound left of my private stock and cooked it along with one pound of potato gnocchi, turkey meatballs, bread, small salad and lots and lots of water. With all said and done, the dinner was enjoyable, filling and eased our tensions.

As agreed again, to avoid the sex temptation after dinner, I drove her home such that we could sleep alone in our beds. I promised to pick her up at five fifteen a.m. in order for us to ride the chartered bus to the starting line which would provide ample to time to stretch before the starter�s gun at 7:30 a.m.

Originally, I planned on sleeping at 8 p.m. but the dinner lasted a little longer than expected. Instead, I was in bed at 9:30 p.m. and wide awake. It wasn�t until eleven thirty or so when my eyes started to close with sleep near but then the phone near my head blared with the annoying computer sounding ring.

�Hi Bob! Just wanted to wish you luck tomorrow!�
�Thanks Tonia.�
�What time is it there?�
With a very tired and annoyed voice, �Eleven Thirty.�
Surprised she quickly replied, �I�m so sorry. I thought you were an hour behind,� then hung-up the phone.

Great. I was wide awake again. Around 1 a.m. still tossing and turning due adrenalin or anticipation, I turned the Direct TV station to the 800�s, the music channels, where I sought some calming mindless music � jazz. Around two a.m. I finally fell asleep.

4:15 a.m. the alarm sounded and I regretted having to wake with only two hours of sleep and twenty-six point two miles to run. How the hell am I going to pull this off? Already I had self-doubts due to my injuries and missed weight goals. Maybe, the shower will wake me? Luckily, I pre-packed my athletic bag and I was out the door by 4:50 a.m. and on my way to the girl�s house.

Right on cue, I arrived at her door and she was ready with her bag in hand. We parked at the YMCA garage and walked a few blocks to the convention center where the buses were located to take the runners to the Start line. The downtown is normally dead when the sun goes down but on this morning, it was an odd sight to see so many people dressed in running apparel marching like ants to the same location.

The bus took a circuitous route causing angst among the passengers who believed the bus driver had no clue on where he was going due to his side roads through residential areas. Luckily, he saw another bus on another road and decided to follow the commercial, regular passenger bus � we were riding in the short yellow bus � well it was yellow at least.

With an hour and half before the gun, we drank our bottled water, stretched and hit the port of potty a few times. Although a bit frank, I was hoping to crap before the race and not during the race, so I was a bit anxious for this grand moment. Runners� crap. Success was to be had and I felt so relieved that my time won�t be affected by having to make a pit stop.

When the sun finally arose from it�s sleep, we decided to walk to the Starting line some � of a mile away and check our bags. Once again, I had to piss and sought refuge in the school�s lavatory but so it seemed the other 5,000 or so guys where they patiently awaited to for one toilette and two pissers that caused an overflow of people out the door and down the hall. Most guys, just go in and out in a second but something was really slowing down this line. Then I heard the trumpeting or trombone playing emanating from the locker room. Was this part of the festivities? Who would play an instrument now? Some guy�s ass is who! How oddly appropriate it was for us to be standing in a middle school waiting for a bathroom and cracking-up with laughter like twelve year olds in a farting noise contest. The poor schmuck was in there for over fifteen minutes just blasting away and probably missed race!

Any rate, the girl�s line didn�t move much and it was time we lined-up with the masses. Quickly, I found the 4:15:00 pace runner and suggested to the �girl� that we keep the pace runner in eye-sight. With five minutes to spare, a light rain began to fall and I was extremely happy about this as opposed to a sunny, warm day. Fifties and rain I can handle. Draining sun and heat, I can�t.

The wheel chair gun sounded five minutes before the race and an Elvis impersonator wheeled pass us to get through the crowd as his race started. Sensing this guy�s urgency, the crowd parted like the red sea. Later on, I learned the marathon wheel chair participant who propelled himself 26.2 miles beat the Elvis impersonator who only did 13.1 miles but then again�he was dressed in Fat Elvis era.

Five minutes later, after a rendition of the Village People�s YMCA, the mini-marathon and marathon gun shot motivated the pack into a shuffling stampede to the Start line which showed 7:28 on the clock as we passed under the banner and in view of the television camera. �Hi Dad!� I waved.

The first two miles were flat as we fought instincts to sprint the first two miles to the hilly park. Along the way a rock band belted out �Born to Run� which earned hoots and applause from the runners. Within the Iroquois Park, all our training paid-off as we rolled over the hills and easily past others with no problem. I was quite surprised with such ease as to how we conquered this portion of the course until the �girl� said she had to use the Port of Potty.

�No problem. I�ll wait outside.� While standing, the race was passing me by and I felt urgency to join back in without the �girl�, however, I reminded myself that the race was about finishing together. So, I took the opportunity and jumped in a vacant, plastic john and quickly contributed the pre-race liters and liters of water. Quickly, I was out the door looking for the �girl� realizing that we didn�t have a contingency plan for this type of situation. I was about to join the race again but decided to walk-up the line of port-o-crappers calling her name. Finally, she popped out of one and we were off again but now the 4:15:00 pacer was out of sight.

�No need to spring back to her as there is a long race where we could make-up the difference in time.�

By mile six a flat portion of the course, the streets were lined with cheering well-wishers and those who distributed water along with local residents passing-out orange slices. Although no performance value, the orange slice was a nice thing to suck-on and keep you mind occupied. Shortly after, I faintly spotted the �4:15� sign about four to five blocks ahead of us. �Cool! I think we can catch up to her by mile 13�.

Welcoming us into the infield of Church Hill Downs after stampeding through a dark tunnel under the track were loud speakers blaring announcers call of a horse race. �And they�re neck and neck�� Meanwhile, horses with jockeys were training on the dirt track for Kentucky Derby to be held the following the Saturday. The final turn led us toward the Twin Steeples; back through a tunnel and past the betting windows and finally back onto the streets of Louisville.

Only a block or two later, upon the center cement raised median a down runner was receiving CPR which caused a slight stirring panic to those running past her and a few audible prayers. Quickly, I recalled the runner in the Chicago marathon who was running about two minutes behind us who died of heart attack and hoped this would not occur for this woman. Thoughts turned to my own training and awareness of my beating heart and breathing.

A few blocks later, we made the turn towards downtown and my thoughts quickly changed running through Old Louisville with turn of the century brick mansions, Central Park and a jazz ensemble under a green tent. The two mile leafy canopy over the road cooled the road and a mist hung in the air.

A few miles down the road, a banner at mile twelve spanned the road dividing those who trained half as hard as those who trained for the marathon. I yelled across the road, �Hey guys, it was good running with you and good luck with your race!� but to the �girl� I turned and jokingly muttered, �Quitters.�

(pick-up the next half later.)

Yesterday - Tomorrow