So today was the big Columbia Metric Marathon. I wish I was writing to talk about how awesome the run was. How I beat the 3:30 cutoff by ten minutes or so. That I was sore, but it was all worth it and I was ready to go for my first full marathon.
Unfortunately, there'll be none of that. Please indulge me as I whine just a bit.
As I left my house to take the kids to Hebrew School, I turned right a block and a half from the home and there there it was. . . the water stop at mile 5 and lots of runners doing what runners do. I was supposed to be right there with them (well, just a few miles back at that point,) but alas, I was driving my car, not paying attention to my kids arguing about whether Army-Navy or Michigan-Ohio State were the biggest rivalries in college football, me just bumming, wishing I was pounding the pavement. (The correct answer is Army-Navy, by the way.)
The backup plan was the Sunday ride, but the weather was crappy. Calling for rain and just barely not ice. The car thermometer read 33 and I woulda been there if not for the precip forecast and the few droplets I felt before we left.
At school, there was one lone rider who proclaimed the rain would hold off until 1. Another plan foiled? I hope not.
With my free time, I headed off to the nearest Starbucks and then to the finish line of race to watch for my buddy Dave. I arrived with 1:38 on the clock. The first few finishers had crossed the line and there were but a few spectators. Dave should cross just after 2:00. In the mean time, I did my duty and clapped for all the finishers. I think I was the only brave sole not wearing gloves so the runners could actually hear me (and a dozen other muffled, gloved claps.) Dave crossed at 2:04:16. We chatted as I still wished I was on the course at about mile 11.
Then it was time to pick up kid #2. I hadn't realized that part of the course was right near Hebrew School at about mile 14. Again, wishing I was there (and at that point, I probably would have been right there.) Or, on my bike as the rain did, in fact, hold off. But there would be none of that.
So, tomorrow is the day. I must call the doctor and I must get my ankles in shape. After all, just five months till Frederick and these legs need to carry me 26 miles.
End of whine. Thanks for indulging me.