The Running Man?

Running my first half marathon in Lincoln this morning. 13.1 miles. Am I nuts? Well, beside that point, here's the story.

The start of this thing is so chaotic, what with 10,000 nuts practicing insanity, it takes slow, fat old guys like me about a half hour to get to the goddamned starting line. I mean I thought about standing up front with the 5 foot 6 120 pound jockeys who usually win these things and sprinting like a crazed cheetah for about 15 seconds so I could claim at one point in my life I actually was in the Top 10 of a marathon. But I went back with the slow turtle like pacers who just hoped to finish and stood around waiting for the Mayor of Lincoln to blow off a cannon, hopefully in the direction of Attorney General and overall douchebag Jon Bruning's house.

Boom!........walking walking walking... 32 minutes of walking until finally reaching the starting point by which time I had half a mind to just take off and running to the finish line where I could at least finish in the Top 100 or so. But like the rule follower I am I turned left and took off on the 13.1 mile journey.

Past the phallic like State Capitol and down 16th street toward South Street. The streets lined with cheering kids and sedentary adults in lawn chairs. Gee, I wish I was partying with them. No seriously, I do. To South Street and I'm still moving along at a sundial timed pace, but moving. Turning left onto South for a 12 block run and some group of teens are giving out "free high 5's". Who can resist high fiving a 14 year old girl? Certainly not me. If Attorney General and overall douchenozzle Jon Bruning is reading this, it was only a high five. You see, Bruning likes to throw folks in jail for not only having contact with teenaged girls, even though you went to Kansas to marry them (he once threw a 19 year old guy in jail for marrying his 15 year old girlfriend in Kansas which is legal and then moving back to Nebraska where it's not legal), he also likes to throw people in jail for attempting to marry their chairs (he once compared gay marriage to some guy trying to marry his chair). In other words, this guy is a joke, and possibly the next United State Senator from Nebraska.

Up South Street to 27th and a right turn. Wearing my "hip" running gear, a black Beatles t shirt and ratty old gym shorts, I get numerous shout outs from old people and young kids about the Beatles. Go Beatles! Yeah Beatles! Paul is Dead! At about the 4 mile mark (yeah I'm still moving), a good Samaritan has dragged his hose to the edge of his lawn and is spraying people. Now he's either doing it as a favor to people who are in danger of overheating or he's John McCain making sure you stay off his lawn. I don't care so I stagger over towards his lawn and he lets me have it good. Wow! That'll wake you up.

Down to 48th and Calvert or about 6 miles and I haven't stopped "running" yet. Now it gets tough. You turn onto a bike path where you have to make room as only three or so people can run across the paved trail at once. It's like a Law & Order beginning where a line of people are walking at you. Being claustrophobic I have a hard time navigating this portion of the race as I don't like tight quarters and I'm not all that fond of people in general either. But hey, this is where I saw the guy in the nun's outfit laughing and high fiving us all. Ok you, my friend, I am fond of.

A GIANT hill awaits at mile 8. Ok, That's it. I stop moving at this point and walk. Hills? Sorry, but no thanks. It's at this point I give up my dream of winning this thing, even though about 500 or so have already finished. It's a dream! Reality is me walking up a fucking hill.

The hill ends and it's downhill now. Down down down. Woo hoo! This is easy! And then the most annoying sight I may have ever seen in my entire life. Some guy goes past me and he's WALKING. And I cannot catch him. How goddamned slow am I "running"? He's just ahead of me doing that stupid fast walking where you look like a fool and he's beating me! That is where my second dream ends. That this is "easy". No matter what, I can't get by this fast walking doofus. So I start walking again. Get the fuck away from me. You're killing my spirit.

The last 4 miles or so was a nightmare. Run,walk, run, walk, walk walk.....you get the idea. I didn't start running until I came into view of the finish. Wouldn't want people to think I hadn't run the entire 13.1 miles now would I? Past Max and Max's mom and into Memorial Stadium where I finally crossed the finish line at the 50 yard line in a record time of 2 hours 40 minutes and change. It's a record because I never did it before and probably never will again. I do know of another "record" I probably set. The slowest movement ever on the football field from the 1 yard line to the 50. Some guy was yelling to get the piano off my back.

The half marathon I "trained" for, dreaded and worried about is over. Now I can go back to watching other people move and hollering how much they suck. I'm looking at you, Joe Mauer!