Guest Post II

Well, it’s that time again, time for my readership to triple (from 1 reader to 3, just kidding). It’s time for another guest post, from my one and only Dad! He is such a funny and insightful person. If you haven’t heard him tell a story, you’re really missing out!

The subject of this guest post is the Marathon. I alluded to it a few weeks ago, from my perspective, but the following is his perspective. And he has broken it into three parts, as he thinks of it: a trilogy.

So here goes:

My marathon adventure began many months ago and is continually evolving, so let me start at the beginning. Warning: This may get boring or self-indulgent at times. (editor’s note: his words not mine).

Part 1: Preparation

It all started one day during a lunch chat with my good friend Greg, who is a cardiologist and fanatical runner. We had been running into Greg on the Lakeshore trail for many years, and as an avid marathoner he suggested, why not try the Mercedes Marathon or half-marathon? It’s fun and challenging and you get a medal when you finish. He appealed to my competitive nature and the part of me that loves a challenge (also the part that likes shiny rewards, like medals). I was equal parts excited and terrified at the thought of failure, which if you know me, you would know I can not stand! But, in a moment of excitement and anticipation, right then and there at the lunch table, I made a verbal commitment to my friend Gregg, “Yes, I’ll do it!” (Editors note: Dad takes his commitments VERY seriously, so even though he is expressing doubts, I knew he was going to make it happen).

The days and weeks went on and I started having second thoughts haunting myself with questions: “What if…” and “Why did I…” and ”What’s the point?” All the while, I continued religiously doing my Lakeshore walk with my trusty walking partner, aka wife (editor’s note: walking the length of the trail and back not once, but twice, many times while my mom would sit and wait in the car for him to finish the second leg). But Greg served as a persistent reminder and lead me to register, so I gave in to my challenge-seeking nature and decided to register, bringing me to my next step in the process: registering. I left this task to my young assistant son. So just a few short months and 49,392 reminders later, and my name was officially added to the roster…. (numerical count is an estimate added by the editor).

Now the fantasy is becoming a reality right before my eyes…

Part 2: The Race

I had been watching the weather diligently all week, hoping for a miracle or at least a warm front to sweep over downtown Birmingham, to no avail. At last check the temperature was going to be in the 20’s. My poor wife probably heard me exclaim, “Why does it have to be the coldest day of the year?” at least 25 times. I knew I had to run the freaking 13.1 miles, but now I’m going to freeze my behind off in the process??

Incidentally, my wife was not much help, her favorite response was “Hey honey, don’t do it. I’m sure a lot of people aren’t even going to show up.” (editors note: that’s helpful…).

The night before I went to dinner with my editor daughter Lora and her family, and everyone commented on how serious I was. To which, I responded “What do you expect from an ‘Old Man Walkin’?” You’d have to be in my shoes, or in my freezing shorts to understand!

So, I went to bed at 9 pm that night (not before checking the weather one more time and verifying that there was no warm front on the horizon). It was a rough night. I woke up several times filled with fear that I would oversleep and miss the whole thing! But 5 am arrived, and I was ready to go. My supportive wife had my coffee and peanut butter sandwich waiting for me and with in her most positive and energetic voice said “Habibi (honey, in Arabic), you are going to be fine… I am so proud of you…” and some other stuff that I didn’t hear or don’t remember (editor’s note: LOL).

M-day has officially arrived (with apprehension and excitement akin to D-day, at least in my eyes).

We arrived at the marathon starting site, and the air was electric, six thousand people, walking, talking, stretching, all ages, colors, and styles, loud music and cameras all around. And for a moment, I thought, I'm really a marathoner!

The race began at 7 am and the temperature was in the 20’s, when the wave of people began their trek, it started to feel like a carnival. Let’s take a moment to discuss my attire: A ski hat from my stylist son, my marathon shirt, and gloves (given to me as part of the marathon package), my favorite swim shorts (that’s right SWIM SHORTS), and my super famous red Nikes.

I had 2 major fears going into this:

1. What if I get lost or separated from the crowd, so I kept my cell phone with me, which I’m not even sure could have helped, because that conversation would probably have gone like this “Honey, I got separated from the crowd, I’m somewhere in downtown Birmingham.” Not good.

However, I quickly realized that they were very organized and this thing has been planned with precision. There were lots of volunteers and what seemed like the entire Birmingham police department blocking the road and leading the way. However, as a precaution, I still remained with a large group at all times, so that if we got lost, at least we’d be together. After all, shared stupidity is less embarrassing.

So far, the race was going well. First (very long) mile down, spirits are high. I’m already warm and the nervousness has subsided. Incidentally, these miles seem much longer than the training miles on the Lakeshore trail.

2. The lady with the balloons: I have feared the lady with the balloons, or LWB from the minute I heard of her. She brings up the rear, and if she finishes before you, you get no medal. No medal, no glory, not good. My three goals for this race were as follows:

1. Stay ahead of LWB

2. Finish the race (no where near last), make sure someone is behind me at all times.

3. Don’t get hurt on your first marathon, or it will surely be your last.

So, as I approach mile 4, I realize I am making decent progress and I resist the urge to speed up. I decide to be smart and keep my pace steady and comfortable.

As we move on, I notice stations with volunteers offering water, gatorade, and fruit slices. I wasn’t about to start drinking gatorade, because we all know what follows, and I didn’t have time for that. Besides, there were lines at all of the porto-pottys. What I did not expect was a station with volunteers handing out donuts. Sounds like a recipe for disaster for me, so I asked if he had a chocolate donut, chuckled to myself and pressed on.

Next, I approach a hill. I have befriended a man that works for Mercedes, and he advised me, when it comes to hills, walk up run down. Good advice for sure!

I’m moving right along, I see mile 5, then 7, when I reach 10, I  knew I would be soon arriving at the promise land. Now, I start checking in with my family fans, letting them know I’ll be making it to the end(editor’s note: until this point, he did not want anyone to be there, now we are scrambling to leave as we were planning on going anyway, but he is making even better time than we had planned for!).

A few calls to my wife, kids, and brothers, check for LWB, she’s nowhere in sight, and I’m cruising. The end is near, and for good measure I start to run when I get close to the finish line, cross it, receive my hat and medal and I feel like a million bucks! (editors note: It was a proud moment for us to be there for him!)

Part 3: My future marathon pursuits

What have I come away with in this experience? There is definitely such a thing as a “runner’s high,” and as great as that feels, I know next time it will take more work to reach that. You know what they say “no pain no gain.”

The glory of being a marathoner (no matter how much I try to keep it alive) is fading. I still try to find creative ways to bring it up, like “It’s a little chilly today.” “Sure is, just like the day I finished the half marathon, have I told you about that?” That may sound a bit desperate but a marathoner has to do what a marathoner has to do (see what I’m doing there?).

There are two types of reactions to this news: There are the ones who show genuine interest and offer their congratulations and the others who say oh yeah, I could do that if I wanted to. Oh really, then why didn’t you?

I am being bombarded with info on other marathons. It seems like there is one every weekend, don’t these people have lives? Who wants to get up and run 26 miles in 20 degree weather every weekend?

So what’s next? Full marathon? Watch out LWB, I’ll be flying by you like lightening!