Andrea, Alex, Ethan and I drove 5 hrs to Wash DC, October '97. The registration for the Marine Corps Marathon was a zoo -- thousands of runners descending upon a hotel lobby... got the chip to tie on my shoelaces, that records start/split/finish times on an individual basis as checkpoints are crossed during the race. Saturday we did the monuments/Smithsonian thing. I tried to impress upon the boys a sense of the history and achievements represented in the memorials and museum artifacts, but the highlight for them was a squirril eating a bit of hot dog outside the Air and Space museum. In the evening we ate Italian and watched the Tribe win.

Sunday morning I took the subway to Arlington Cemetary and walked to the starting point. It was s/w cold, overcast and drizzly -- the highlight of the day, weather-wise. I waited till the last minute before shedding my warmups. The race started at 8:30am with the blast of a Howitzer. 18,350 runners at the Iwo Jima monument. I made it to the starting line at 8:51. Rain was falling pretty steady now, puddles were getting big. By two miles my socks were soaked, and feet were slipping a bit. I'd put some vaseline between my piggies and over the sole, to prevent blisters... and bandaids over my nipples to prevent chafing, but that's a whole nuther story (and doubtless more than most of you wanted to know).

Although we were wet, there was a lot of exuberant enthusiasm amongst the runners as we trotted out the first several miles. There were many many supporters on the sidelines looking for their loved ones and cheering wildly when sighted. Many brought crude, hand-fashioned signs saying such homilies as "Bill can run. Look at Bill run! Run Bill run!" and "Mary - You Go Girl!". We'd see the same signs several times along the course as supporters raced around to different points along the course, trying to beat their targets to the spot.

I felt strong through about 16 miles (the longest I'd ever run before was 18). We ran around the Pentagon (all 6 sides), across the Potomac to Georgetown, past the Kennedy Center, Lincoln Memorial, White House, Washington Monument, "the Mall" (Smithsonian), the Capitol (halfway point -- halfway in Distance, not Exertion). Past Jefferson Memorial, to a big park. At 17 miles I took a big dab of BenGay from a friendly Marine (?!) and spread it on thighs and calves (mine). The heat helped for a short spell, then just felt slimy. At 19 miles I stuffed my pockets with pieces of PowerBar and a PowerGel, good motivation late to keep going... at 20 miles I started to 'shrink' -- where your stride shortens, and you start to get that 'old man running' posture.

At mile 22 I felt some strong emotions as people were cheering us on, and I actually cried a bit. I was upset that I hadn't been able to find Andrea and the kids in the crowd. I hit "the wall" after mile marker 23. My legs were lead, I had a little toe blister and worse, a big plantar blister working on my left foot. causing me to invert my toes on that foot when landing. I gave in to the overwhelming urge to walk a bit (although I believe in pushing yourself, I also believe in listening to my body, and it was screaming). I started "running" again as I saw mile marker 24 in the distance. The crowds began appearing again on the sides, helping greatly to motivate. I knew if I could get to 25 I'd be able to keep running and finish strong. Which I did. It was again a very emotional, teary feeling as I approached the finish line. After crossing the line, a Marine draped a silver space blanket around me and said "Congratulations, sir - way to go". Very cool. 4 hrs 37 minutes.

Met several runners along the way... Heather, a waitress in Cary NC... Joe, an ultra-marathoner (like, 50 milers) from California. Funniest scene: at mile 24 a young gal started singing "I feel sunshine... on a cloudy day...". A woman in front whirled around, glared daggers and warned menacingly "NO!".

The adrenaline rush of finishing slipped off faster than a prom dress. I was oh my God SO SORE like never before. The walking wound. Stiffer than Al Gore (who BTW supposedly ran this race). I stumbled around a bit, got my bag, headed for some shelter (there was very little), and put my warmups on. Drank and ate a bit and felt much better. Careened back out looking for my people. It was like a refugee camp, people very cold and wet and tired and trustrated looking for their own, yelling "Billy" and "Susie" and "Kareem". After an hour or so (eegads) I finally found 'em, I was never so glad to see someone! We walked (they walked, I limped) back to the Metro and headed home, arriving just in time to watch most of my beloved Indians' heartbreaking loss to the Fish...

Thanks, Thom "Mr. Blister"