on the iPod: "#41" -- the dave matthews band
The weekend was a reunion of sorts as my good running friend, Mrs. Murie, and I crossed paths and ran together for the first time in just short of a month, but what seemed like much longer than that. We'd gotten in a short 5 miler together a few days before Easter weekend, but hadn't done our distance runs together in quite some time, primarily because of schedules and travels and life. It was really double super great to be on the trails with her again as the days before the Nashville Marathon tick down. Single digits are not far away. That's exciting.
We both felt and ran a bit sluggish, but seemed to pick up some energy within the last few miles. The trails were sparsely populated for a Saturday morning and we chalked it up to many of the locals laying low before the Hogeye Marathon the next day. Being so close to our own pending marathon, both of us resisted the urge to run the half, deciding instead to do something that we'd never done much of before: volunteer. Yep, instead of lacing up and running the race, we signed up as official volunteers and were assigned to kinda do not much of anything at mile 20 of the marathon. Our volunteer paper instructions mentioned something vaguely innocuous about "guiding the runners along the trail" as our official duty. What in the hell does that mean? It's a TRAIL, where else would they go?? Nonetheless, we were excited and had been talking about it for quite some time. After putting on our ugly volunteer shirts, setting up a cooler full of ice, and peeling two bags of oranges, we were set and ready. The picture makes our set-up look pitiful, but please understand that experiencing it in person was the dog's bollocks. It was the bee's knees. Okay, not really. It was pretty pitiful...
We laughed. We clapped. We cheered. We tried everything we knew to do to make the runners feel happy. And I think we were successful for the most part. I was mildly worried that through the course of the race that i'd get cranky and pissed off because I wasn't out running. I was worried that watching and not being able to participate in the very thing that makes me feel human would not be good. It could have been a recipe for disaster, but all issues were avoided when I saw the smile and determination on the faces of the runners that we were cheering. They truly appreciated seeing us there. It didn't piss me off at all to be on the sideline. Not even close. That's not to say I didn't get cranky, but rather the source of my sour demeanor had nothing to do with not running. Read on...
She showed up somewhere around the second hour completely out of nowhere. Not wearing a bib, but clearly in running gear and having logged some mileage from the amount of visible sweat everywhere, I could tell she had just participated in the marathon relay, probably running the second leg. It was as if I looked up and, BAM!, there she was, asking if I knew where her friend was. Not even knowing who she was, I certainly didn't know where her friend was. And thus began the saga of the next hour.
Bless her heart, she became our new best friend, standing right in the middle of our camp, entirely too close in my personal space, running her mouth about how she'd lost her map and didn't know where the turn-around was. After eating a handful of our oranges that we'd peeled for the marathoners, she waxed nostalgic about her seven months on the Appalachian Trail, literally standing with her back to the marathon going by. On and on about the Appalachian Trail. And then, as if it couldn't get any worse, she loudly announced to both of us that she needed to pee and was going to use the ditch not ten feet away on the other side of the trail. And she did. We didn't even know her name, but there she was squatting directly across from us in a ravine full of weeds and bushes. On the spot I named her Pee Bushes Lady.
Within a minute she was back up out of the ravine and once again commandeering our pathetic little homemade camp. We were helpless against her. I simply chose to sit back and watch what would happen next. Thinking on her feet, Mrs. Murie successfully pointed out the fact that there were a few other volunteers and a cop directing traffic not far away, and they might have answers for Pee Bush Lady. She bought the ploy hook, line, and sinker and was off to make new friends. We never saw her again, and now I kinda miss her.
The last few hours of the Hogeye Marathon can be summed up with one nasty little word for runners: weather. Northwest Arkansas had been bracing for heavy rain and lightning all weekend, but the million dollar question was when would it hit. The answer became a little bit clearer at the 4:00 mark when the clouds got ominously darker. By the 5:00 hour mark it was a full-on deluge. I hope the runners were all safe and secure on the other side of the finish line, but I know some of them weren't. So my hope for them is that they ran strong and persevered in the face of adversity. That's what life's about, right?
The Nashville Marathon is in two weeks and, as much fun as we had cheering, i'm glad that i'll be on the other side for it. I've been thinking about this race since registering on New Year's Day and can't wait to lace up and go the distance. We don't know what exactly to expect in Nashville, but we've heard that it's hilly and can be humid. We've also heard that there's a live band stationed at every mile and tons of crowd support. Maybe Pee Bushes Lady will be there. I'll be looking for her every step of the way.
Run.
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