Monday, October 04, 2010

The George

Today I'm wallowing about in the hangover of my 15th marathon, the St. George Marathon.  I call it The George for short.  Although The St. George Marathon is long -- 26.2 miles to be precise -- I like to shorten it a bit by just calling it The George.  That 26.2-mile reference was for all you folks who aren't sure how long the St. George Marathon is.  Here's another hint:  All marathons are 26.2 miles long.  Unless of course you have a marathon with the word half in front of it -- a half marathon if you will -- then it should be exactly half of 26.2, which is 13.1.  Miles.

The George of 2010 was a fine race.  I'd like to give some extra special thanks to Mr. Sunshine, who made a fabulous showing of 95 degrees.  Except it wasn't 95 when I finished, it was a brisk and burly 88.  Irregardless of the heat, I loved it.  All 3 hours and 19 minutes.  (There were a few some-odd 28 seconds but who's counting that?)

On Thursday, we traveled to St. George, checked in, watched a movie and fell asleep.  The kids now think the "hide-a-bed" is the most novel and ingenious concepts to date.

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We slept in and I went out for the Friday ritual of three miles.

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We had breakfast and went to the expo.

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At the expo, you first look up your bib number, then retrieve your assigned bib.  I'm including this photo of me checking in as "elite" because my performance this year (or lack thereof) may have kicked me out of the elite bucket.  Elite is way cool, because you get your own holding tank with your own porta-potties at the start.  This means no waiting in line to use the loo.

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Then I started to tear up a bit 'cause it's pretty dang cool that I have a body that can do this kind of stuff. Repeatedly.

We returned home to swim and prepare dinner. The Olympic Hopedful joined us with a loaf of Czech bread. It looked quite gourmet and tasted gourmet too. (I call her the Olympic Hopedful because she qualified for the Olympic Trials in 2004, but didn't actually go to the Olympics. Hence the Hoped in Hopedful.)  We were also joined by the Yahoos' piano teacher extraordinaire and her fine husband.

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We all slept. At 12:49am, someone sent me a pornographic text message -- one with a proposition. I showed it to Spouse, who wasn't wearing his specs, and he mumbled something about how nice it was that "someone wished you good luck!" No, dear. Rhymes with luck. Not luck. Totally creeped me out, however, and I couldn't go back to sleep. It was an unknown area code, so my mind began to race... Does someone know me and I don't know them? Are they going to stalk me? Will I have to change my number? My mind tends to race like mad the day before a race. A weird text message didn't help.

At 4:45, Spouse drove the Olympic Hopedful and I to the race. Notice I'm wearing the traditional coat. I always wear that coat. Even if it's 69 degrees outside, which is what it was that morning.  Also notice the traditional two thumbs up.

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I started the race wearing arm-warmers and gloves. I was in complete denial over this one. I thought if I wear stuff that is needed when it's colder, maybe it will be colder. Hah!  Was I funny or what? The starting temperature was 57. Not a good sign.

I ran a good solid 17 miles with mega energy left in the tanks. At mile 17-ish, the course comes out of a place called Snow Canyon and right into the jaws of Mr. Sun. From then on, it was hold on for dear life and get as much water as possible.

While I raced, the boys waited. Their traditional spot is around a half-mile from the finish. Yahoo #2 broke is glasses while wrestling Yahoo #1.

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I finished and was mauled by Tebbie.  I like being mauled by Tebbie.  She can maul me any time.  We had a popsicle and a photo.  Incidentally, Tebbie was my success story for the day for I gave her strict dietary instructions.  I told her to stay away from any carbs with fiber for two days prior to the race.  This kept Tebbie on the road and out of the porta-potties.  Yeah, Rabid!  Really, it's Yeah, Tebbie 'cause she smoked it!  Yeah Tebbie!

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Meanwhile, back with the boys, they drew plans to build stuff.  On graph paper.  Trust Spouse to have graph paper on hand.

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Not feeling so great, I ventured on to find the family in our designated meeting spot.  I laid there for a while, then stood up only to toss the contents of my gut -- four Powerbar gels, one Gatorade, and two popsicles -- into a garbage can, in front of thousands of people.  Spouse said he was going to video the tossing, but decided against it.  I wish he would have, 'cause then you'd all get to see it right here!

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With an empty stomach, I was ready to party again.  Or at least stage some photo ops:  One with Spouse and Yahoos, one with Tina.  Tina and I plan to run the NY together in four weeks.  I've decided that a good upchuck should be part of my post-race party from now on.  I felt fantastic!

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Was the day over then?  Heavens no!  We were just getting started.  We went back to our place of positioning.  Spouse took a nap (kid wrestling can be more difficult than marathon running, you know) while I fixed the Yahoo's glasses and made biscuits for the BBQ that evening.  We attended the BBQ with some very fun friends and some very fun kids.  I reminded our fun friends often that I "ran a marathon AND made biscuits" that day.

I'm something else, aren't I?  Yes-sir-eee.  A marathon and biscuits all in one day.

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p.s. The biscuits were a cheddar, green onion, buttery, sour creamy concoction.  Perhaps they'll make it into a Rabid Cooking post.  Perhaps.  


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11 comments:

Sparks said...

I did some snort laughing when I read your text message about your text message. It really was nice of someone to wish you luck. And, quite frankly, ask you if you were interested in the other thing. Better than them just taking it from you, yes? Yes.

I'm sorry, is there some crazy place on this planet wherein 26.2 in 3:19 isn't fast? Isn't Elite? Damn, standards are out of control these days. Like learning to read in kindergarten. What? Wasn't that for kissing-tag and Tang? What is our world coming to? It's disgraceful.

I leave you with Mosiah 3:19, which is a Scripture Mastery and apparently supposed to be very important to you for the next year until you do The George again and get yerself a new theme-o-the-year:

For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father.

Becca said...

And might I add that the biscuits were delicious--totally worth bragging about!

Jessica said...

As long as we're sharing scripture, here's a good one.

Mosiah 4:27 And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order.

You rock, by the way. You are so speedy!

Winder said...

I have two things to say:

Good thing you didn't post the video of the barfing. I would have to quit reading this here blog. You know I'm vomit-phobic.

That text was in know way shape or form related to my usual pre-race well wishing. Though I would like to know the source. Very intriguing

Autumn Lynn said...

This is so inspiring! Posts like this always give me some motivation to hit the treadmill :)

lifein360 said...

awesome report. why the upset tummy? Did you hit the wall? Great shots. Hmm, I wish someone would send me porno texts!! lol

megan said...

I'm loving, what we refer to around these parts as "bink-binks" - the messy little buns all cute with green ribbons?? A MUST for any race.

Blackdog said...

I wish you would have posted the barfing video. Dogs like barf. Just ask my dog Mookie and he would tell you he likes it very much.

The message thing is creepy. My personal favorite was when some jackass told me to prepare to die at about 2 am. Wifey asked "Who was that" I do not know what I said but I wish I had said "Your Mother".

Ski Bike Junkie said...

Considering the heat and the lack of sleep, sounds like you had a great race. Just how fast do you have to go to be considered "elite"?

Makell said...

Yoda says: Well done young Jedi. You rock!

Makell says: You rock some more!
I thought of you as I was complaining about how hot it was in my yard that day (as I sat in the shade) and remembered that the St. George was going on. I think I would have been in the paddy wagon by that point..

rabidrunner said...

So Megan, did you search all of the 3:19s to find the best one? So it's unnatural to run 26 miles, therefore, it's a good thing because the natural man is an enemy? I'm reachin'! I'm reachin!

Jessica, I've had that one read to me four times in the last few days. Serious. One friend used the marathon metaphor to explain my limitations. She said I was a 3:00 hour marathoner who expected to run a 2:00 hour marathon.

Winder, I plan to pay full tribute to your beautiful song. Full. Tribute.

360, I think the tummy was not doing well because of the heat. It's been such a mild year up until recently. I was not prepared for how hot it became.
Autumn Lynn, nice to meet you. Run, baby, run!

Megan, thanks for the new term. Glad you like my bink-binks. They're totally juvenile, but I don't care. I get lots-o-attention with 'em. One guy even said, "You passed me in this exact spot two years ago. I remember the pig tails."

Blackdog, agreed, the barfing video would have been pricelessly funny. Dogs can be so gross sometimes. What with their eating anything. Are you implying that the in-laws aren't big fans of the blackdog? Maybe they're racist and like yellowdogs.

Junkie, it was a good race. Great, in fact. Not my best, but great irregardless. Elite is a 3:15 or faster, for both men and women. I ran a 3:10 two years ago, so hopefully they'll lit that sit for just one more year.

Makell, thanks for thinking of me pal. Oh and when are we going to form our little gan of skiers?