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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 V
Part V: Writing About Running Is Hard . . . Wowie Zowie, I had no idea that I could ramble on so much about one little
race. At this rate, it will take me longer to go back and read about my marathon
than it did to actually run it (training time not included).
In the interest of saving my dear reader time, I have chosen to summarize
the race at the bottom of this blog. If you don't care about mundane details,
then I encourage you to skip ahead to the end. No one will ever know.
Part V: Writing About Running Is Hard
"Go runners! You're all Kenyans on the inside."
This was the next sign I remember seeing. It didn't feature a picture of
me, but I still took the time to look.
I chuckled to myself. At this point in the race, I was still able to breathe
well enough to laugh.
As the sunrise slowly lead to daylight, the fog started to dissipate, making
way for a magnificent sky full of clouds. Occasionally, tiny droplets of
rain would cool us off, but these were barely noticeable with all the commotion.
Even a few miles into the course, the streets were lined with onlookers.
I dwell on the crowds because, as heartwarming as it was to see them, it
would occasionally cause horrible problems. At many many points throughout
the course, our group of thousands would bottleneck. If I wanted to get ahead
(as was often the case… at the beginning), or even continue at my existing
pace, I would have to dodge spectators as well as runners.
This, of course, was not the problem I was speaking of. What bothered me
were the annoying freaks in goofy hats dancing to "Who let the dogs out?"
(Not to be confused with amusing folks in Goofy(TM) hats dancing
to "Who let the dogs out?"). Their asymmetric rhythmic gyrating threw off
my whole pace, and it took a long time for my running to recover.
When the crowds finally dissipated, they were replaced by row after row of
pine trees. For the next hour, I moved with my fellow runners, galloping
over bridges down the long stretch of road. The next few miles offered very
little in the way of scenery. The only change would be the occasional water
station.
Since this is Florida, and a marathon, the water stations were pleasantly
plentiful. It seemed like we had one at every single mile. They were easily
spotted from a distance due to the giant DASANI signs plastered at each stop.
Upon approaching the station, dozens of volunteers were standing on either
side. They would hold cups in the air, tempting me as I ran by. The typical
exchange would go like this:
Some creepy volunteer would shove a cup in my face. "Would you like some
DASANI(R) brand bottled water?" She would ask.
"Sure, I'll take one." I'd say, clutching the cup as though my life depended
on it.
"DASANI: make your mouth water!"
"Uh… yeah. Thanks."
I'd move away as quickly as I could without spilling any water. The moment
I escaped, however, another volunteer would greet me.
"Remember, that refreshing feeling in your gullet is DASANI(R) brand
refreshment!"
As soon as I cleared the water tables, I would come to the PowerAde(R)
section.
"PowerAde(R) sports drink!"
"Power up with PowerAde(R)!"
"One sip of this, and all water will taste like dish detergent."
With an argument like that, how could I refuse?
It was nice of them to provide refreshments. I ran the gauntlet, quenching
my drink hole just enough to make it to the next water station.
The only other break in scenery was at each new mile. When passing those,
we would see a giant stopwatch with the official race time, along with a
clever painting that represented each mile.
After the sixth mile, I noticed a familiar sign:
"Go runners! You're all Kenyans on the inside."
This time, images from the movie Alien danced around in my head (Get it?
The Alien grew inside that guy! Hilarious, right?!? My brain was oxygen deprived,
what did you expect?). I was amazed that the lady traveled so far on foot,
just to greet us with a sign we've already seen.
Since the run was expected to take 4-5 hours, I brought along a few packets
of "Goo" for sustenance. These packs of gel were essentially sugar and salt,
with a hint of Strawberry flavoring. They stuck in my mouth like peanut butter,
but without the burden of pleasant taste. The idea was to replenish lost
calories, but with each packet containing 100 calories on a run that burned
3000, they didn't offer much relief.
With the Magic Kingdom looming just ahead, I noticed two people running the
marathon in red spandex. They were a middle-aged couple, presumably married.
I was extremely jealous because I had always wanted to wear tights just like
that to the office.
Upon closer inspection, they turned out to be dressed as Mr. and Mrs. Incredible.
What a great idea! If only I had taken the time to make my own costume, I
could attract even more attention to myself (sometimes, the website just
isn't enough).
I began to notice other costumes as well. There were people wearing capes,
men with pink flamingos on their head, and a considerable number of grown
men dressed as Peter Pan (3 IS considerable). By far, the strangest of all
the attires was the balloon enshrouded stick creature.
Upon closer inspection, this turned out to be nothing but a banner declaring
the 4:30 pacer. Like an Olympic torch, this balloon stick would guide us
to glory-- and in a timely fashion!
I stuck with the 4:30 group for the next 45 minutes. When passing the ten
mile mark, a familiar beep indicated that my chip time was being emailed
and text messaged to people around the world. I would later find out that
the system jammed for several hours, and that this would be the last broadcast
of my position. This left many confused spectators wondering what happened
to their runners. It would have appeared as though we ran off the edge of
the earth.
This was not far from the truth, given that we were arriving in such a enchanted
place.
We entered the Magic Kingdom and ran through Tomorrowland. By this time,
the magic was harder to feel, as I was mostly concentrating on not passing
out. This probably would have been more enjoyable if we were allowed to stop
and ride the rides, but stern looking orange cones prevented us from doing
so.
The marathon actually took us through the center of Cinderella Castle, an
unexpected twist. It was nice to see Cinderella waving to us from the balcony.
I must say, that for the star of a 1950 movie, she has aged very well.
By this time, the sun was starting to squeeze its way out of the clouds.
As always, we were greeted by cheering guests. Personally, if I gathered
together my life savings for a trip to Disney World, I wouldn't stop to cheer
for each and every runner. For some mysterious reason, however, these visitors
did.
We circled through the park, running past Country Bears, Caribbean Pirates,
and Disney employees in costume. Upon leaving the Magic Kingdom, my hope
of winning the marathon was thoroughly smashed. It suddenly dawned on me
that the winner (probably from Kenya) would have already crossed the finish
line. I had done a remarkable job of keeping up with the 4:30 pace runner.
But this meant finishing the course with a 10-minute mile. The front-runners
would be doing half that. Freaks.
These thoughts had little effect on my stride, however, since I was watching
the pacer. He or she (I couldn't see past all the balloons) was always within
a few hundred feet of me. If I felt myself going too far ahead, I would slow
down, and if I lagged behind, I could simply speed up. It was that easy!
The only flaw in this plan came at mile 13. After stopping to use the facilities
(forest), I found that no one had bothered to wait for me. How rude.
With no balloons for company, I paid closer attention to my surroundings.
Since leaving the Magic Kingdom, we were back to the streets. I cannot emphasize
enough how boring the scenery was.
It was in this state of utter monotony that I noticed the
Sharpie(TM) signs posted roughly every hundred feet. Each one featured
a little piece of humor or trivia. For example:
"What is the speed of dark?"
"If Barbie is so popular, why do we have to buy her friends?"
"Don't be a chump-- buy Sharpie markers."
Ah Sharpie(TM)… your humorous signs kept me going. Passing
one every 10-15 seconds became an exciting goal for mile after mile. The
person hammering them into the ground must have been paid by the hour.
Around mile 16, I thought I saw a llama. This frightened me at first, but
I remembered that we were approaching Animal Kingdom. It might have been
a camel or a snake… I was running, so it was a bit of a blur.
We went through an employee entrance and were suddenly inside the park. Live
bands danced and played tribal music while equally animated employees shouted
directions to the nearest bathroom. Inside the park, I saw Amber (a friend
from training, not the color) in the crowd. She was kind enough to buy a
ticket to Animal Kingdom, just to see us there. It was nice to see a familiar
face, even if it was only there for 3 seconds.
At this point, I should mention that Animal Kingdom is by far my least favorite
Disney theme park. I have never liked zoos. As a kid, I watched one too many
polar bears with bewildered looks in the August heat to enjoy visiting such
places. This will have to be a story for another time, since I'm right in
the middle of telling another one.
My newest hatred of Animal Kingdom started as I rounded a corner away from
guests, and noticed a number of fellow runners stopping to stretch their
legs.
Feeling good and strong, I decided the best way to stay in such good shape
was to follow their example and stretch out my Quadriceps (despite the powerful
name, it amounts to little more than stretching your thigh muscles. Or MY
thigh muscles in this case). This exercise would turn out to be an extremely
dumb idea.
I continued into the park. At first, I noticed a slight tightening of my
thighs. It had become fairly difficult to bend my legs. Certain it would
clear up, I sauntered on. About a mile later, my thighs felt as though they
had been punched-- HARD. Since I didn't remember anyone doing this, I thought
it was just one of those many pains that would pass.
It wasn't. In fact, the pain increased with each step (and marathons involve
a lot of steps). I tried stopping to stretch my legs again. I thought that,
if it worked soooo well the first time, how bad could it be on the second
attempt?
Bad.
Instead of feeling like I had been punched, I now felt like my legs were
trying to rip themselves apart from the inside. I took two or three more
steps, and my muscles told me in no uncertain terms that they were done working
for my brain. They would be taking a break.
Never in my life had I felt such a sensation. It was worse than the time
those zombies tried to pull my legs off. Each individual fiber in my leg
was contracting at the same time. I wanted to let out a high pitched squeal,
but I covered my howl with a loud but manly cough. This didn't really fool
any of my fellow runners, but they were undoubtedly too busy dealing with
their own pain to care about mine.
I stood in place, assessing the situation. It was barely mile 17, a distance
I had run many times without a problem. Was I overly dehydrated? No, I had
watered my mouth with Dasani(R). Did I need salt? Maybe, but I Powered
Up with PowerAde(R)(TM)(C).
Taking stiff-legged steps that would have made the Frankenstein monster laugh,
I moved over to a handrail, my new best friend. Handy (as I called him) was
there for me in my time of need.
I began to worry about finishing the race. I had nine miles to go. Could
I hobble the whole way? I doubted Handy would go with me.
Runner after runner passed by, some shouted words of encouragement, others
gave me jealous looks for hoarding such a fine handrail.
For twenty minutes, I spent quality time with Handy. I tried stepping, nothing.
Tried stretching, nothing. Tried dancing and… I knew I was in trouble
when I couldn't dance my way out of a problem.
I was seriously contemplating giving up, when I thought about Shannon, my
lovely girlfriend. She has put up with months of odd training hours, sleeping
at strange times in the afternoon, weird expenses (think spandex), and an
over abundance of pasta meals. Not only that, but she was kind enough to
get up with me, fight an hour of traffic before four in the morning, cheer
me on at the starting line, and most importantly, stick around for hour after
hour in the hot sun waiting for me to pass the finish line. I could care
less about that. What truly mattered was, if I somehow failed in this endeavor,
she would never EVER, stop making fun of me.
I said goodbye to Handy, and continued on my journey. It was slow at first--
I had to stop and stretch every thirty seconds. After a few minutes, though,
my hobbling began to resemble running again.
I had just regained my speed when I noticed someone in the crowd.
"Go runners! You're all Kenyans on the inside."
Freaked out, I picked up the pace.
I had lost a great deal of time, but I still moved forward with the crowd.
We ran over and under bridges, made a U-Turn on Osceola Parkway, and blocked
traffic for miles. Occasionally, people on the side of the road would throw
bananas at us. I grabbed one out of some guy's hand and threw it at his head
before he had a chance to react. A fellow runner told me that they were
volunteers trying to feed us, but I wasn't about to take any chances.
Shortly after the banana incident, I encountered more other runners from
training. Raymond and Whatsherface. I'm not sure if Raymond saw me, but
Whatsherface and I talked for a few minutes before she left me in her dust.
With no one to talk to, I realized just how much I missed Handy the handrail.
As I passed Mile 22, I knew that this was a personal record. Never in my
life had I run so far. If I survived, I suspected this would make a great
story (YOU be the judge). By this time, EVERY muscle hurt, but with less
than five miles to go, I would crawl past the finish line if I had to.
We ran through the newly renamed Disney Hollywood Studios. We came in behind
the Twilight Zone Tower Of Terror. I had recently watched a number of episodes
of the Twilight Zone, and I was in the middle of thinking about Rod Sirling
rolling in his grave when someone handed me a chocolate bar.
Three Musketeers? Ugh…
I gave it back to the next person handing out candy. I had run out of Goo
nearly an hour ago, and needed something edible. Was it possible someone
held Crunch Bars? When I spotted a volunteer holding one of those, I nearly
bit her hand off. It was just what I needed, but her fingers would have been
too chewy.
We were in and out of Hollywood Studios rather quickly. It is a small park,
so it didn't last long. I ran between the New York City facades and through
the backlots. The highlight was long tram tunnel that is used as a part of
their guided tour. This dark passageway was lit only by windows leading to
the studios' costume shop. For the first time, we had passed Disney employees
that weren't cheering for us. Through the soundproof windows, we could see
them feverously creating costumes for upcoming productions.
Although I was angry at the lack of clapping, I quickly calmed down. The
tunnel was peaceful, quiet, and shady. The footsteps of runners created a
soothing rhythm as they echoed throughout the passageway.
After Hollywood Studios, it was a short jaunt to Boardwalk, a resort hotel
behind Epcot Center. It was there that people told us such helpful things
as you've made it, 24 miles! Even though we were somewhere around 23.5 miles.
That may not seem like a big difference to you, but after nearly five hours
of running, it was a bit annoying.
The inaccurate crowds continued to taunt us for the next mile or so. I passed
a runner who had blacked out-- no doubt because the crowd had told him that
he was on mile 25, causing him to faint when he found out how far he really
had to go. He was being helped by paramedics, and seemed to be doing all
right. I envied him for lying down.
I took a moment to stretch. With minutes left to go, my legs were attempting
to sieze up on me again. Jerks. Thankfully, the stretching helped.
I finally entered the back end of Epcot Center-the last leg of the course.
I had walked through this park many times, even run through this morning,
but never before did it seem so large. I felt like an ant (an incredibly
handsome ant, but an ant just the same). With less than a mile to go, Jeri,
one of my running coaches, came up behind me. "Come on, Jeff, let's do this
in under 5 hours!"
With the split front lines and differing corrals, however, I was already
at 5 hours and 10 minutes. I wanted to continue at her pace, but my legs
were acting up again. I thanked her and said to leave me behind. Without
hesitation, she took off with an energy I had not previously seen in a human.
By this point, I could care less about scenery, crowds, or water. All I wanted
to do was finish. My hips hurt, my lungs ached, and I firmly believed that
my legs were starting to break off at the knee.
As I rounded the final set of bathrooms (the ones that blocked the view of
the finish line), I slowed my pace enough to catch my breath. With people
waiting for me, I had to make this look good. The moment the crowd, cameras,
and Disney creatures could see me, I straightened by back and ran like I
had just started.
A smile filled my face from ear to clammy ear. A wave of excitement took
over. I ran harder and harder, approaching the bleachers where friends, family,
and that girlfriend of mine were waiting.
My heart pounded and my mind raced. I was actually going to do it-26.2 miles.
Somehow, I found the strength to run faster and faster, at a time when I
should have been passing out.
Over the roar of the crowd, I could hear Shannon. "JEFF, JEFF!" That was
me she was talking to. I could feel the emotions of the moment taking over.
Genuine sensations, too-like the kind you see in the movies.
I waved my hands in the air and pressed on. It must have been quite the site.
I had snot dripping down each side of my face, gallons of sweat oozing out
of every pore, and I don't think I combed my hair that day. It was the look
of victory.
Not far from Shannon, I saw my mother and friends, cheering me on. They also
shouted "Jeff!", but I think Shannon thought of it first.
I took one last look at the crowd and sprinted to the finish. Photographers
had perched on either side, ready to capture the moment. I did my best to
push the other runners out of the way, but some of them may have made it
into the shot.
With 26.2 miles behind me, I crossed the finish line.
A woman in a Mickey Mouse hat gave me a metal. She shrewdly put it around
my neck, since I didn't have the strength in my arms to lift it at the time.
After months of preparation, and even more months of slacking off, I had
run a marathon.
The End.
__________________________________________________
Marathon Summary:
Oh come on-- you thought I was really going to write a summary?!? What
part of you thought that I would make an extra effort for someone as lazy
as you? You should be ashamed.
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