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1/29/2009 - Trapped In An Elevator
1/27/2009 - The Close Call
1/14/2009 - Tom McCoy
12/23/2008 - Political Science
12/09/2008 - Grinch
10/08/2008 - 30th Birthday
7/25/2008 - Installing Blinds
6/03/2008 - The Great Wall
5/30/2008 - Rudeness
5/22/2008 - Sick Days At Work
4/09/2008 - Home Warrantee
3/31/2008 - Animal Crackers
3/17/2008 - Green Beverage Day
3/05/2008 - I Should Write A Novel
2/26/2008 - The Evil Oak
2/18/2008 - A Tribute To My iPod
2/11/2008 - Criminology Textbooks
2/04/2008 - The Surgery
1/31/2008 - WDW Marathon Part V
1/25/2008 - WDW Marathon Part IV
1/19/2008 - WDW Marathon Part III
1/17/2008 - WDW Marathon Part II
1/16/2008 - WDW Marathon Part I
1/12/2008 - Marathon Details
1/09/2008 - Running From My Run
1/04/2008 - The Holidays
1/01/2008 - First Blog
WDW Marathon Part III
Part III: The Starting Line . . . Part III of my marathon tale is here! I bet you thought I'd at least talk
about running by post #2. But if you've read my blog before, you should be
used to disappointments. Let's see if I get that far today…
Part III: The Starting Line
Okay, so where was I? Oh yes, before the race, my girlfriend had something
very important to tell me. I knew this, because she plainly said,
"Jeff, before the race, I have something very important to tell you."
Actually, the band was really loud, so what I heard was more like:
"Jeff, you poor disgrace. I have something hairy in torment to sell you."
Wanting desperately to know what that was all about, I answered her
with a question. "How much?"
With a confused look, she repeated the more normal version of the two above
sentences (the one without anything hairy), and I asked her what was so
important.
"If you want to use the restroom, you'd better get in line."
Oh, how right she was. Four miles may have been nothing for a marathoner
to run, but when faced with a line of that length, it can be a bit intimidating.
I left Shannon with my "friends" and jumped to the back of the procession.
Since this staging area was for both runners and spectators, they had roughly
75 of these Portable Toilets. In front of these were about 50 lines with
50 people in each line. I'm no mathologist, but I'd say there were at least
60,000 people clamoring to use those filthy, disgusting, horrific, gruesome,
and remarkably unpleasant smelling phone booths. It took about 35 minutes
to reach the front of the line (that's not an exaggeration) but it was worth
the wait (also not an exaggeration).
Coming back to the group, I posed with everyone for a few pictures. My camera,
on cue, decided that it had worked hard enough sitting around all day, and
that it would take its sweet time before focusing or flashing anywhere outside
of its own case. When it finally did work, I took the opportunity to be the
only one blinking out of the group. You won't see those pictures anytime
soon.
After the photos, we went our separate ways. I made one more quick trip to
the car with Shannon for supplies. I mention this, not because it's important,
but because the car really was far away, and I should get bonus points for
having to walk an extra half mile or so before the race.
The moment we reached the car, of course, an announcement was made:
"Runners, please line up at this time."
Turning around immediately, we made our way back to the staging area. It
was hard saying goodbye to Shannon. She had woken up early, forced me to
drink water, driven me to the event, forced me to drink water, put up with
months of training, and forced me to drink water. The least I could do was
stay by her side at the finish line, keeping her company until the runners
come by.
When I mentioned this idea to her, she reminded me that I was supposed to
be running a marathon that day. What would I ever do without her?
With minutes left to go, I made the quarter mile hike to the starting line.
Along the way, I discovered a row of nearly 200 Portable Toilets, available
for runners only. Out of curiosity, I poked my head into one. Clean as a
whistle (a urine-free whistle). No lines, no mess, just fun for the whole
family. Assuming the family was filled entirely with runners.
At this point, I was growing pretty excited. I walked as fast as my little
legs could take me (without exerting effort), and followed the road to my
corral. I squeezed into a mob of people and took a moment or two to take
in the scenery.
Everywhere I looked, runners filled the road. Not far behind me was a short
orange fence separating my corral from the obviously lesser runners. In the
distance in front of me was gigantic banner with the word "START". That was
the starting line (duh). To the left of the line was a small stage filled
with Disney characters and a few somewhat important runners that I had never
heard of. They were rambling on about vital safety tips, but with only
a few precious moments to stretch, I hardly listened to a word.
While stretching, I glanced at some of my fellow runners. Many of them were
covered with souvenirs. From Mickey Mouse ears to Minnie Mouse tails, they
were enclosed in Disney mementos, each one costing a year's worth of college
tuition. I reflected on this, if I didn't live right by Disney, I might have
done the same.
In my lifetime, I have given the Disney Corporation more than enough of my
hard earned pennies. To run like a moron in this marathon, I paid a hundred
something bucks. This may seem a bit expensive, but I could have spent a
great deal more. For those runners who have currencies worth more than the
dollar (I'm talking to you, rest of the world), Disney World offered premium
services for premium fees. This included coffee, massages, cushy chairs,
clean bathrooms, fresh fruit, bottled water, and peasants to carry you on
their backs if you get tired.
Not into running? Not to worry! Similar services were offered to wealthy
spectators. For the right price, bleachers were available on the finish line
that offered food, shade, drinks, and a pre-marathon show featuring actual
gladiators battling to the death.
I wondered if Shannon had my wallet.
Before I knew what was happening, a deep baritone voice came over the
loudspeaker. It was Mickey Mouse, in the flesh, beginning the countdown to
terror. Since this was the marathon's 15th year, they started the countdown
at 15 seconds. I'll spare you most of the details, but let's just say the
countdown goes from 15 to 1.
Upon finished his elaborate count, Mickey declared that the Marathon had
begun. A colossal roar came over the crowd, and the ground began to shake.
To be continued…
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