I haven't blogged about my running adventures in a while, but don't worry, I'm still running! Sunday was awesome, as me and a few other close friends ran the Dallas White Rock Lake Marathon Relay. Basically it is 5 people that run part of the relay. We even had a ghetto PVC pipe with our time chip in it to hand off at the exchange spots. We were all up early, but I was the last leg, so I didn't run until about 12:30 that afternoon. As I was standing at Mile 20, watching all the marathon runners go by, I started thinking how much I really want to run a marathon. There were some interesting characters running the marathon as well. So here is a breakdown of my experience while waiting at Mile 20, and then on to the finish line:
We ran in a neighborhood, so I was waiting at the corner of one person's house watching the hundreds of people pass by. There were so many people supporting their friends and family, which I thought was really awesome. Then enter middle-aged man in a white shirt, stained with BLOOD! What's that you say? Yes...he sweat and chafed his nipple so bad during the marathon that it was bleeding through his shirt. It sent me on a flashback to the scene where Steve Carrell is walking home after getting his chest waxed in 40 year old virgin. I wondered, how is it only one nipple, wouldn't the other one bleed too? Anyway, that was not inspirational at all. I then saw a couple of very old men with no shirts on, which grossed me out. Then I saw several people limping, seemingly pulling their bodies along as they finish up the race. You know they are thinking 6 more miles...but seriously...6 more miles?? That's a lot to the average man.
Then an old man ran by saying.."You should try this, it's fun!" as he ran by the crowds of people cheering on (probably thinking to themselves, "No thanks, did you see the bloody nipple guy? I'll pass."). As the anxiety grew waiting on my friend to hand off the baton to me, I had the urge to go to the bathroom. I'll spare you the details, but let's just say the port-a-potty experience was beyond disgusting. I know you are thinking, "Isn't it always disgusting?" But this time was much much worse...trust me. So I quickly go hoping and praying that no part of my body touches anything in there, and I run back to my spot and wait. As I wait, I get the urge to go again, but oh crap, here comes my teammate. He hands me the baton, and I take off. My goal was to run 6.2 miles in less than an hour, as I was trying to stay under the 10:00 minute mark. As I run, I am feeling great. I am passing almost everyone, as most of them have been running for 20 miles. I felt a little defeated however, because the majority of the people were walking, stopping to stretch, or just limping their way to the finish line. As I passed mile markers 1 and 2, I felt great, even though I had a little piece of me that needed to stop to go to the bathroom. So around mile 3, I saw the potties and I went. I went quickly, and even ran out of the bathroom back to the running path pulling the wedgie out of my butt. The last mile felt like forever, but as I neared the finish line, I knew why all of those people had ran, bled, and limped the entire way. Lined with crowds and crowds of people with signs, cheers, waves, and smiles, I crossed the finish line with a sense of accomplishment. I now know why they run the marathon, and that is the feeling I hope to have one day when I complete 26.2 miles. For now, it was 6.2. I finished right at an hour, running a 9:45 mile. Had I not gone to the bathroom, it probably would have been a little faster. A shout out to my team the Cinco Cabrones, as we finished our marathon relay in a little over 5 hours!!
*Pocahontas*
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