Evendays

I survived. 

First, 26 miles is a long way to run, walk or crawl.

Second, the first 13 miles are much easier than the second 13.

Third, no matter how long it takes, getting to the finish feels very, very good.

It was a hilly course (the publicity said it was "mostly flat") but the weather was perfect, the little villages welcoming, and the runners encouraging. We were sad that a 24 hour bug kept Wife from running. I think she would have beat my 4 hour 8 minute finish.

I have still to "run" a marathon. My Beaujolais experience included some walking. But with legs like iron and cramps that wouldn’t quit, walking took me, though quite slowly, in the right direction.

Thanks for dropping by. And keep heading for the finish line.

My kids told me that, yes, it is true. The guy who ran from Marathon to tell the king his troops had won the battle died after delivering his message.

Tomorrow, wife and I are attempting the same feat, but at a different place and, we hope, with a different result. It’s called the Beaujolais Marathon. We’ll run from Fleurie to Villefranche-sur-Soane through some of the beautiful wine country of France. Refreshments and tasting are provided every 5 kilometers.

26 miles and a bit more is what 1000 of us will be tackling. The weather should be very nice with a small wind in our faces. I will let you know on Monday if we were victorious or not.

I know, you’re dying to find out…

All was okay until I hit 12 kilometers. I was ahead of schedule but my legs were bags of concrete and someone had applied glue to the soles of my Nike Pegasus. The 700 feet or so of climb (with another 200 to 300 thrown in then taken away from you, just to get you warm, you know) had taken their toll. 

I still managed several under 8 minute miles, but these were all downhill and I was missing my targets by an easy 10 seconds per kilometer. The slowest split was kilometer 19, but fortunately my neighbor caught me. "How you doing?", he asked me. "Fine", I replied, even though I was dieing and I was starting to see everything in black and white.

"How ’bout you?" He replied that he had nothing left. But I was running a bit faster and as we entered the stadium I said, "Let’s finish strong."

This is the worst I’ve ever felt in a race (which isn’t saying much because I haven’t done many). I stomped across the finish line in 1 hour 39 minutes and 1.9 seconds, 1.9 seconds slower than I said I would do, A half a minute slower than I wanted to do. But I did the 20 K. I have a medal, a T-shirt, and the sore calves to prove it.

Wife ran the Lausanne semi-marathon today. She took the train 21 kilometers away.  (13 miles, Randy.) She took off her extra clothes, put them in a numbered bag, gave them to a man, who then loaded it onto a truck. She was then told, "If you want to get back to Lausanne and retrieve your stuff, start running." They even shot a pistol to scare them away from the truck, and off they went down the coast road toward Lausanne.

She finished 1 hour, 43 minutes and 58 seconds later.

It was a long way to run just to get her clothes back. But she seemed happy that the whole thing was over. 

You can always check her blog out, all you runners out there, by clicking here.

Gotta run…