The Non-Runner's Marathon

Endings

Well this is it. After Tom Jones there was just one thing to do, more shopping... and come home.   (actually there were more things but .... what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas!)

I have been home for a few weeks, I am taking a well earned break from running, (with Kelly – the mistress of pain's approval) and will start running again in the new year.

I have no running goals this year, except to stay in good enough shape to run a half marathon or two this year. Something that I am confident that I can do.

I may try to sign up for the Police Half-marathon, or maybe Melissa's.

One thing is certain, this blog is over. I want to thank all of you who have come along for the ride with me. Despite my spotty attendance you have been pretty faithful readers. I have appreciated all the notes of encouragement and all the hits you have given this blog. I have enjoyed writing it, not only for myself, but for you. If you are curious about other aspects of my life and my opinions about a variety of topics you can check out the sister blog to this one: Pencil Shavings.

I will keep this blog up for a while, but I am sure this is my last entry and that sometime in the next month or two it will dissolve into the ether from which it came.

Thanks again to you my friends, thanks K and JJ for all your support (and the shopping!)

It's been a long run, and in the end a good one.

It's Not Unusual!

OK maybe it is a bit unusual, but it's what we did anyway.

I told K and JJ that even if I told them I hated them and cursed them I needed to get up and get moving in the days after the marathon. But I think even they thought that it was insanity to do what we did.

After the race the ladies took me back to the hotel room and they went to the spa. I could have gone, but I was so tired, sore and dehydrated that I really needed to rest and drink water and have a shower... because - really – I stank!

All I can say is thank the good lord for hotel hot water boilers! I think I may have had the longest hot shower in the history of man. It felt great. Finally I dragged myself out of the shower and then collapsed onto bed and slept for a couple of hours. I woke up just before JJ and K came back and had time to repair my bizarre looking hair. Nothing like sleeping on wet hair!

Then slowly, very, very slowly, we got dressed and headed out to the monorail to get a bite to eat at the MGM Grand – before going to the Tom Jones show.

When I say slowly, I mean a snails pace because every step made my leg muscles scream and had me breaking out in a sweat. Although that pain was eased by my good friends telling EVERYONE that we met that I had just run the marathon. *Blush*

Alas when we arrived at the MGM Grand and my hankering for Mexican food had reached it's zenith we discovered that nearly all the restaurants were closed (except for two outrageously expensive ones!) . There was no way I was going to be able to walk to another hotel to find food on my sore legs. So we were reduced to food court fare. My victory dinner after the marathon was, sadly, McDonald's. Although that was redeemed with a big dish of ice cream from Baskin and Robbins for dessert. Then we slowly wandered around until we found the theatre. (and I mean SLOWLY!)

We found the theatre and got in line. There were stairs up to the doors and I had to take them one at time and swore under my breath at every step. Then I noticed a handsome older man (who looked a little familiar) and an attractive young man trying to edge in front of us in the line. I gave them “the LOOK”. There was no way I was going to stand up any longer than absolutely necessary.

We made it to our table and ordered drinks. I deserved some wine. And I have to tell you it tasted great AND went straight to my head!

Then the lights went down, and the show started. I have one thing to say – Tom Jones has still got IT! His voice is still so awesome, and his classics have been given new life and the audience went wild! All three of us were dancing in our seats. (I couldn't have done it on my feet). It was a great show.

When the show was over I couldn't leave right away – not only were my legs stiff but I couldn't line up and wait to get out of the theatre. So we waited and watched some ladies making a fuss over the good looking young man to whom I had given “the LOOK” earlier. We asked the ladies what the fuss was and in the thickest English accents I have ever heard they told us... of course we had no hope of understanding them... but as we made out what the ladies were saying I realized that I had dissed Robert Vaughn - the man from U.N.C.L.E!

Well no autographs for us then.

WAKE UP and RUN!

4 am is really, really early.

And dark

and cold.

Someone said to me that marathons start great, and end great, but the middle part really sucks. I managed to get to the porta-potties before the race start and I managed to meet some interesting people. This is the best part of the marathon, the people that you meet while you are waiting and while you are running.

The start of the Las Vegas marathon was late, but we did get to see some great fireworks as we milled around trying to figure out exactly where we were supposed to start. The “corral” system that they were supposed to be using was not visible to me. And I was looking – honest. I asked and got no information. So I put myself in the middle of the pack and hoped for the best.

My understanding was that the Blue Man group performed the national anthem. I did see them, 15 minutes after the start gun went off, when we finally managed to get to the start line. This is the reason why if I run a marathon again – I need to be an elite athlete... everyone knows I hate waiting... for anything!

The start was interesting. I had to run around a lot of walkers who had put themselves near the front of the pack. Dodging around these people did make the race longer – a foot at a time – and believe me I felt every one of those feet later.

There were lots of folks, drinks in hand, wandering around in the dawns early light, who were willing to cheer us on. There were also people who were there just to cheer us... I'm sure that was what they were doing while they were waiting for the strip to open up to traffic again.

The marathon was supposed to be the most entertaining marathon, but I have to admit that the Calgary half marathon that I ran earlier this year was actually more entertaining as far a bands per mile goes.

People were great at cheering us on from their homes and cars, and that was great. I met a guy who was race walking faster than I was running... (now that is discouraging) I ran for a little while with a lady from Calgary – she was on a five hour marathon pace... a little too fast for me. James was an older guy (in his sixties I would guess) who started running when he was 52 and was running his eleventh marathon. He was outpacing me too!

I was following a guy that I could only see from the back. A big tall black man with a white shirt. He was easy to spot and seemed to be running my pace. I figured if I could keep him in sight I would be OK

It rained, it was windy and cold. At times we were running along part of a freeway and sucking in car exhaust. When we turned to head back to the Mandalay Bay we were facing a full head wind that reduced my pace dramatically. There were times during the race when I questioned my sanity, and other times when I was so elated, after this difficult year, to be running at all, let alone working to complete my goal.

Around the twentieth mile I lost sight of the guy in the white shirt. My run ten minutes, walk one minute pace had stretched out. To run five walk five. The big muscles in my legs were spent and I was moving ahead just using the small hip muscles. I was sure that I couldn't make it. It was too far, and too hard. But I kept walking one step at a time. Then I saw the aid station at the twenty-one mile marker. And something that I put on my MP3 player to inspire came on as I took my water. And I realized it was only 5 miles. Just five miles.

So I started again. Running a little, walking a little, running a little more. Then I saw him – the tall guy in the white shirt. He was walking too.

I caught up to him and used my line “You know, I've been following you all race.” He laughed, his name was John and a he was a a very nice man. (JJ confirmed after that he was good looking too... so it wasn't just delirium.) We talked – his hamstrings were giving up on him and I encouraged him to keep going. We talked, we walked, we kept going and I kept telling him how much further we had left to go.

Then I saw the turn and I knew we were there, and I actually could feel myself running, slowly, but running.

My goal was to run the marathon in five and a half hours, I crossed the line at 5:46. My arms raised in victory and JJ taking my picture, my moment of glory!

Smiling, happy, and proud.

Getting Mauled on Saturday

Rest day. Saturday was supposed to be a rest day. So how did I find myself wandering through an outlet mall trying on shoes and jeans?

Well I was travelling with JJ – queen of shopping.

In all honesty I don't love shopping, I did love the discovery that I am now a size 10... but I didn't love the crowds of people and the constant “buy, buy, buy...” that seemed to be echoing in my head. I could quite happily live with out shopping at all if there wasn't the constant threat of starving to death or winding up naked one day because all my clothing has finally giving up the pretence of lasting forever.

I had brought my notebook with me and sat down for a while to write some notes but the echoing high pitched ringing of the Salvation Army red kettle bells was making me crazy. So I picked up my bags and went into the food court... where the music was so overwhelming that it forced all rational thought (except the idea of just getting the hell out of there) from my head.

Finally the girls and I met up and JJ took pity on my poor non-shopping self and after a quick stop at the local grocery store they deposited me at the hotel, and resumed their hunting and gathering activities. I turned on the TV and snacked on bagels and bananas and mini chocolate bars. One of the best things about travelling with my friends is that they take care of me.

We had a quiet night in, and after a delicious pasta dinner and listening to some Elvis tunes (Viva Las Vegas) I finally fell asleep, and although my sleep was restless, I probably got four or five hours of sleep before sitting up and drinking water until the alarm went off at 4 am on Sunday morning

Friday, Time to Rest Up

So, it is common practice to rest up a few days before the big race, with only a short “warm up”run the Friday before. I love the rest strategy. I was ready to have a lazy day (with out small children clinging to me at every step). But first we had to make the short trek from the hotel we were staying at (The Flamingo) to the host hotel, the Mandalay Bay to pick up my bib and wander through the pre-marathon Expo. It's a mere four blocks away, so we might as well stroll right?

Oddly enough, despite the fact that everything along the Las Vegas Strip is larger than life, I didn't grasp that the blocks would be as well – I certainly didn't see them as being a mile long! By the time we got to the Excaliber we realized that walking wasn't the best idea for the “rest-up” regime. And grabbed a monorail for the rest of the trip, but even inside the resort we had to walk FOR-EVER to get to the Expo and pick up my bib.

The whole excursion, to the Expo and back (including stops at M&M world and to MGM Grand pick up Tom Jones tickets) lasted about three hours and by the time I got back to the hotel for my “warm-up” run all I wanted to do was take a nap. But I put on my shorts and went down to the fitness centre anyway.

A short run (really that was all my legs had left in them anyway...) and a shower and a good meal. Then we went to see Wayne Newton. (Absolutely pure Vegas kitsch!) I figured if I never made it back to Vegas I wanted to be able to say that I saw Wayne.

The show was great. We had good seats close to the stage and got to see the smooth, workman like approach to the show that you would expect from a seasoned performer like Newton. Despite clearly having a bad cold he made no mention and ran himself through the paces. His back-up singers and band were entertaining and top notch and we got to see him play a variety of instruments and sing his legendary songs closing with our trip theme song “Viva Las Vegas”.

A little cheesy... yes but not in a bad way. It was just the right blend of music, cheesy jokes, laughter, and banter with the band. We left feeling like the money we spent was worth while.

I tucked into bed at 11:30 and looked forward to a REAL rest day on Saturday.

Is “Kitsch” A Word?

Sorry for the cliff-hanger. I am writing this down as time allows, and with Christmas getting closer and my children getting more and more excited about it, well time isn't stretching as I hoped it would.

Back in Vegas...

The thing about going to Las Vegas is that you can have any kind of holiday you want. From the low key shopping holiday to the high stakes, second mortgage on your home, stay up all night gambling (or partying) kind of holiday. The vacation (if I can call it that) that K, JJ and I went on was the “classic kitsch” vacation.

It started the night of our arrival with the “Haunted Vegas” tour. We had all been up since the wee hours of the morning (4:30 am for me) and that night I was nodding off even before we went into the theatre to find out all about ghosts and participate in a semi-lame mind reading/psychic display. The fun part came when we climbed into the tour bus and drove around the city looking at the sights and lights and the places where lots of people met tragic and often gruesome ends. It was cheesy fun and it was interesting to listen to our guide who was very interesting, amusing, and seemed to have a real fascination with ghosts and hauntings. We learned that our very own hotel was haunted by the ghost of it's founder (Bugsy Seigal) and it was interesting to learn the some of the history of the city - even through the view of the supernatural. Of course no day in Vegas is complete with out the mention of Elvis. And even though we didn't see the ghost of the man, he was mentioned often and we got to see some of his favourite (ahem) haunts.

In the tour bus K and I taught JJ how to play Rock/Paper/Scissors and we threw to determine who would not have to share one of the queen sized beds in our room. Thinking back it was probably unfair that I played that game since I got the bed to myself the night before and the night after the big race. But I played and won and got to do the starfish in bed when we got back to our relentlessly pink hotel as Thursday turned into Friday and I realized I had been awake for 20 hours.

Internal alarm clocks being what they are I was awake again, dressed, and sitting on the patio over looking the gardens of our hotel by 7:30 am. I could have probably stayed in bed and slept longer, but I felt that it was important to keep my clock as close to normal as possible since I would be getting up at 4am on Sunday morning to get to the starting line. I only had time to eat half a bruised banana and sip a coffee by the time K came down and we went in search of a serious morning boost in the form of Starbucks.

The Agony

I had a cold that attacked me the week before the marathon. Kelly (a.k.a. The Mistress of Pain) didn't tell me that this is a horrible thing to happen just before a big run. She wisely kept her mouth shut. I began downing huge glasses of water and taking handfuls of Cold FX as well as my vitamins. And it seemed that I was starting to get better.

Our flight had been changed from a direct flight to one stopping over in Phoenix. The first part of the first flight was fine, until we began to descend. Then everything went wrong. My sinuses were so painful that I thought that my eyeballs were going to pop out! The endless taxiing around the airport prior to take off to Vegas didn't help my mood at all. How long were we driving around in circles? Long enough for JJ to have a refreshing nap on the plane!

Our arrival in Sin City was uneventful, except for my desire to trade in my head for a new and improved model. I clung to the idea that at least we had three nights of rest before the starting pistol. A hand full of pain relievers and a couple of gallons of water later (along with a shopping trip) and I was ready for sleep. Except that we had booked an event that evening.

Let the fun begin!

Viva Las Vegas

Back from Sin City. I have a lot of stories to tell, but I'm tired (home late, children waking me early) so you will have to tune in tomorrow and I will start to tell you what happened. Of course I'm not telling all. Why? You know why, because what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

I'm Leaving On A Jet Plane (T minus 3 ½ days)

Very early in the morning tomorrow I will be at the airport, with my running shoes in my carry-on bag. My best girl friends beside me, waiting to get through security. What will I say when they ask “business or pleasure”... this marathon isn't going to be pleasurable, but it will be satisfying to cross the line and get my participants medal.

I sound confident don't I? I'm not really. Training took a nose dive in the finally weeks between bad weather and this cold. But what's done is done. Now I need to move forward and do the best that I can. Determination will get me a long way. I've always been able to do what I need to do. I have always been able to finish my long runs, no matter how far, because I set my mind to it. This won't be any different – and I will have the other runners with me – all of us reaching for the same goal.

There is power in that crowd of runners. There is an energy there that is hard to define. But I know it will carry me a long way. So will knowing that my friends, family and loved ones are cheering me on from where ever they are.

I will run the best race I can run. And this time, I am doing it for one person only, i am doing this, just for me.

It's a Miracle! (T minus 6 days)

OK – maybe not a real miracle...

Yesterday I started taking Cold FX to fight this cold. I also pulled out every trick I have for making a cold a more bearable all in an effort to get this thing under control before the big run in a week! I can't think of anything worse than trying to run a marathon with a cold... well actually I can, but I don't want to get into that particular nightmare.

I've been loading up on vitamins, and Cold FX, drinking loads of water and herbal tea and trying to eat well – or at least trying to eat. And now I can happily announce that after two days I still have a cold.

OK – I still have a cold, but the symptoms seem to be greatly diminished from what they were. I'm feeling a lot less like I have a giant cloud of germs around me. I am feeling more alert and like myself. I'm still congested with some sneezes and a bit of a cough, but I am hopeful that by the time I get on that plane I will be a lot better!

If not... look for pictures of the runner with a box of Kleenex tucked under her arm next Sunday morning.