**This story was submitted by Cheryl's sister, Deb.
IDum
Dum DA DA, DUM dum DUM dum (theme of
2001 Space Odyssey in case you don’t read music)
She
Came! She Conquered! She Roared!
My
Goals for the MCM 2000:
- Get
to the bridge --
SUPER
CHECK – with many minutes to spare!
- Finish
15 minutes faster than my first (and
only other) marathon –
SUPER
CHECK – I took almost 45 minutes off my time
- Run
more than the last time –
check,
at least on the first half.
- Do
this with my sister who has always been
there for me –
SUPER
CHECK
- Have
fun –SUPER
CHECK
My
MCM story actually started last year when, even though I registered,
I couldn’t do it for a variety of
reasons. I
was all the more determined to do this one. My
sister Cheryl pledged to do it with me and so we finagled a number for
her (I don’t know how she did it exactly since I thought the race
was closed, but she managed, and I didn’t ask too many questions).
We managed to work out together in Michigan
over the summer when we went home for Mom’s surprise quadruple
by-pass – nothing like feeling the noose to revitalize your
commitment to getting, and staying, in shape. Mostly
we worked out on our own turfs – she was sweltering in Phoenix much
longer than I was here, and I had my two workout partners, Cindy and
Kathy, who, like it or not, acted
as my conscience when I didn’t want to get out there at 5AM, while
Cheryl had her hiking partner and her treadmill. We
came together Thursday night before the marathon. She had her marathon
clothes in her carry-on, just in case her luggage decided to take a
trip someplace else. It was great to see her again.
We spent a lot of time carbohydrate loading (read “drinking
good red wine”), and fueling our muscles (read that “breaking into
the Halloween candy”). Mom and step dad, Homer,
came in from Michigan on Friday – they had to come see the
“girls” do their thing.
Cheryl
and I watched the weather carefully, praying that it would be
coooool, even cold – and overcast would be nice, if we
had our druthers. Sunday
morning dawned warm, with the promise of blue skies (read SUNNY and
HOT) and more warmth. DRAT. DRAT.
Oh well. Up
at 5am with a projected departure time of 6am. Somehow
the message gets garbled,
and my usually punctual sister diddles and dawdles, changes her warm
ups, laces on her chip, reorganizes her tummy pack, until I’m ready
to CLIMB THE WALL. She thought we were leaving at
7am. I finally, tap, tap, tap, get her out the door
about 6:15 and we’re OFF! Off
to be lost in the Pentagon parking lot. Actually,
we weren’t lost, the
shuttles were. After parking three times, we
finally ended
up in the correct parking lot, caught the shuttle (which had a real
bathroom – the last we saw for HOURS!), and made it to the starting
line. Back in the potta potty lines – never pass
up the opportunity. Could you believe the space
cadets who tried to walk right into the potta potties while there were
30
or 40 of us waiting more or less patiently?
Even after we yelled loudly,
he still didn’t get it…
Where
were the bagels? The coffee? The
water? The
bananas? The tents with people passing
out Vaseline, band
aids, Ben Gay? We were less than overwhelmed by the
starting line set up (shades
of things to come…) I guess we
were spoiled by the Rock N Roll. Since my number
was so low (2089), I got to start with the first wave, and I knew I
needed all the time available to get to the bridge so I hugged Cheryl
and sent her back to the second wave. Next time
we’ll start together. Standing in the front with
the elite runners was a new experience for me – they don’t carry
tummy packs filled with GU and everything else under the sun – and
they don’t talk as much. They’re more “in
their
zone” I guess. Finally, there’s the prayer and the National Anthem
and the cannon. Here we go – happy feet on the
start line to make sure the chip is read. Ahhh, it feels good –
we’re really moving instead of marching in place as we did for a
long time at the Rock N Roll. Watching the men peel
off at the first fence to line up to take care of nature’s business,
then the women more modestly selecting the tall shrubs.
What a funny sight.
My
gosh, we’re already at the two mile mark. Uh,
oh, I’m going to be in trouble if
I keep up this pace, but I still
feel good. Under the bridge, back
to the same parking lot we were lost in
earlier, past the car and the shuttles
who are resting now before they start schlepping runners
back to their cars. Around
and up by the gas station, and there’s Mrs. Allen, my son’s 6th
grade teacher. What a nice surprise! Was
she here for me? We only told her on Friday at
Family Fun Night that we were doing this. Won’t
Travis be surprised when I tell him that I saw his teacher there
cheering us on? Nice long hill down and then on to
the up at Rosslyn at Mile 7. No Lee and Scott, but
I was earlier than predicted, but wait, there’s Joel, waving cold
water at me. What’s
he doing here? (Lee and Scott, and my boys, were
there – I just didn’t see them.)
Across
the Key Bridge into Georgetown where there were lots of spectators.
I looked for my students,
but didn’t see any of them ( I hope they were home
studying for their midterm
if they weren’t out cheering me on).
The bagpipers were taking a
breather when I went by, but I did appreciate their presence.
Under the Kennedy Center and up to the Memorial Bridge.
I wonder what the strolling tourists are thinking? Do
you suppose they were happy or irritated to find that they had
scheduled their tour of the capital to coincide with the MCM?
Down Constitution past the White House and the museums to Mile
11 where Joel, Travis, and Hunter waited with a veritable smorgasbord
– OJ, water, GU, crackers! OJ
this time to ward off cramps. On
to the Capital and the hills around Union Station. I
can’t believe we’re
already at the half marathon – this is incredible. I
could
use another porta potty, but there’s none in sight, and I can’t
quite bring myself to use a shrub on the Capital grounds…
Ahhh,
another down hill. I’m roughly
doing 4/1’s with liberal interpretation. If I
come to a down hill on the
walking time, I will jog – no sense wasting
that gravity. And the reverse
is also true going up hill – remember the goals – get to the
bridge and reduce overall
time – not break any records (no chance of that, but ….) so walk
up the
hills. Around to the Air and
Space. Where’s Mom and
Homer? I don’t see them anywhere – I hope
they’re not
lost on the Metro or someplace
else, or that something’s happened to
Cheryl
and they’re with her. My worry genes
kick into overdrive because they’re
supposed to be here. Finally, I see Joel
and the boys at Mile 15 waving
their GW pom poms, get more cold water, dump my tummy
pack after retrieving
Dad’s peanut
butter fudge (the BEST carbo load) and my Walkman. I
need something to
bring on my second wind because I’m
feeling a little low now, and I’m worried about Mom and Cheryl.
Joel hasn’t
seen Mom, but he has seen Cheryl and
she’s about 10 minutes behind me.
On
to Hains Point. This is the worst
part of the race (or so I thought at the time). It’s
lonely. There
aren’t very
many spectators. There’s not much
breeze. It’s hot. My
feet hurt. My hips hurt. What am
I doing out
here? Who’s bright idea was
this anyway? I know the Penguins will
be out here somewhere, but it seems like it
takes forever and ever and
ever. FINALLY – there they are!! Penguin
Alert – I hear them call out.
It’s so good to see them
– thank you so much
for being there!!!! On to the tip of Hains Point
– that’s some interesting statue – I wouldn’t call it one of
favorites, reminds me too much of a Steve McQueen movie that scared me
to
death when I was nine and gave me nightmares for years after.
BUT AT LEAST WE’RE HEADING BACK UP THE OTHER SIDE OF THE
POINT!!! YEAHHHH! Great music on the Point, and the
Annapolis Striders Scream Team kept us company for quite aways.
Back around the Tidal Basin – I remember walking it during
Cherry Blossom time – it seemed a lot longer then. There’s
the bridge. We’re going to make it! I’m
going to moon the bus when I get on the bridge because it’s not
taking me, and it’s not taking my sister if I have to lie down in
front of it until she gets here! But
wait – there’s Joel and the boys again! They
thought I looked so
depleted at mile 15 they decided we needed more really cold water.
Thank you. Thank you. By now, the salt from
my sweat has made my cheeks gritty, and I’ve stopped sweating. This
is not a good sign. I’ve been drinking water,
but I’m not sweating, and I’m feeling woozy, but I have to keep
going to get to the bridge. Keep going, you can do it – yes it’s
hot, but you can do it. One foot in front of the
other. But it’s so hot. Get back.
Get back. I’m
not going to listen to the committee. On and On until finally
there’s the ramp to the 14th St Bridge.
Can you believe it?
We made it!
With time to spare! Now where’s Cheryl?
I’m not going on without her. We’re
going to finish this together. I know she can’t
be too far behind me because I’ve been going slower and slower.
I wait, and I watch for the Straggler’s Bus, and I wait, then
finally, there she is!!! We made it.
Okay,
I thought Hains Point was the worst, but I was wrong. The
14th Street Bridge is the
worst. No shade. Concrete.
No shade. Concrete. On and On
and On – will we ever get over this &%$#@(*#&
thing? Only
two miles left – come on, we can do it. Owwww. The
inch long blister between my toes just popped and is killing me.
Owwwweee. At least it takes my mind off my hips and
thighs. Finally
we’re in the home stretch. We
see lots of mylar blanket clad runners, coming back to encourage us,
telling us the finish line’s just around the corner. They
lied, but it helped. It
wasn’t just around the corner. It
was around the corner, around another corner, and then UP A HILL.
Are you kidding? Whose bright idea was it to
end this thing up a hill? Must have been the
Marines. And get these people off the course.
What are they doing strolling along in their space blankets
with their medals and their glazed eyes? MOVE.
I’m a little cranky at this
point, and if these people don’t get off the course, I’m going to
get even crankier. From
somewhere I drag up a fifth wind and I break into a jog again –
Cheryl scowls at me, but picks it up, too.
We’re going to run over the
finish line, by golly. There’s Joel and the boys,
taking one last picture. And then around the curve, and there’s
Jenny. What a treat! Where did
you come from? Thank
you for coming out and for hanging around until we got there.
I wish you had come with us across the finish line.
WE
DID IT! We really did it.
And we’re okay. I feel much better today,
and I’ve provided so
much entertainment to my Mom and the boys as I back down the stairs
going down, and
crawl on all fours up the stairs going up. For some
reason, it’s easier
on my thighs. Mom and Homer left yesterday, and
Cheryl had to
leave today. Before she went, we
looked at the marathon list for February and March.
We’re thinking two a year
is about right. And we’re thinking that doing one
in every state
is a good goal, and maybe a few international ones. Amsterdam
is looking
really good because we’ve heard
there are NO hills – now, that’s more like it.
Thanks
for listening to my story, and thanks to all the folks who sent us
their strength and prayers. If
we throw
down the gauntlet, are you going to pick it up?
Love,
Deb
