I started out the race aiming for a 9:44 average. With the black flag warnings being displayed, I lowered my target to 10:00. I was pretty much on target through mile 20, with a little slack for additional unplanned walk time through the water stations to take in about double the amount of fluid that I had planned. It was time well spent. The weather was pretty warm and the forecasted overcast skies never showed up. It was sunny and bright the whole way . . . not a cloud in the sky.

I took advantage of virtually all of the homemade sprinkler systems devised by the fans along the course. Anyone willing to tape a sprinker to the top of a stepladder for the benefit of complete strangers is OK in my book. At mile 20, an enthusiastic young lady was offering a "cold shower" to all comers. I took advantage of the opportunity, but didn't realize how cold it really was. As the pitcher was emptied over my head, I thought I had made a fatal error in judgement. I was gasping for air for about 5 seconds as my life flashed before my eyes. When I realized that I was not dead, I noticed that my shoes were soak through and squishing with every step. At least my feet were cool.

I felt pretty strong through Lemon Drop Hill (mile 22), passing my relatives at the top of the hill with a smile on my face and a little spring in my step. Mile 23 brought the onset of cramping in my left quad, resulting in a mix of stretching, walking, and running for the next 2.5 miles. I couldn't consistently run for those very long 2.5 miles, despite the enthusiastic crowd encouragement and the belly dancers. My sister came out of the crowd in the last 1/2 mile and ran a couple of hundred yards with me. It was the encouragement that I needed to finish the race running.

Take a pass on the cold shower offer, no matter how cute the offerer is.

Warm down consisted of total collapse. I took a look at the line for massages and just about cried. My legs were jelly and I could not stand long enough to wait that long. I got a turkey sandwich, sat on an unbelievably unconfortable rock, got a cup of ice cream and went to find a piece of soft ground where I could lie down and die with comfort and dignity.


The leg cramps in the final few miles did me in. No matter how much I drank on the course, with its attendant belly-sloshing, it just did not seem to be enough to keep the cramps away. A Kenyan front runner said "It was too hot for me." When it is too hot for a Kenyan, the rest of us poor hacks are doomed.


This was a great event. It was very well organized, the voluteers were wonderful, and the spectators were top-notch. If I ever decide to run another marathon (which is in some doubt as of now), I would definately do this one again!