This past Sunday I ran the Madtown Half Marathon. It was a tune-up run, in preparation for Grandma’s Marathon, now four weeks out. The run went pretty well. I finished in 1:18:50. The course was rather hilly and there were a lot of turns. I ran the first few miles with fellow pastry clubber Alex. My favorite part of the run came about two miles in. While Alex and I were running, we passed by a group of quiet onlookers. In an attempt to create some energy, Alex threw up his arms and shouted, “Come on! What is this, a fuckin’ Sunday school outing?!” That really got the crowd fired up and I got a good chuckle out of Alex’s animated exuberance. Alex was doing the 10k, so he diverted off early. From three miles to the finish, I was in no-man’s land— I couldn’t hear anybody behind me and the four runners ahead of me were out of sight. The 10k course followed the same route as the half marathon for the last couple miles so I did, however, have to do a little weaving around the 10k joggers near the end. The race was not very well organized and at every other intersection, I had to ask bystanders which way to go. At one of the intersections, the road went only left or right. After asking which way to turn, the guy at the intersection responded, “You can go either way.” “This guy’s full of shit,” I thought to myself. I decided to turn right. “No!” The guy hollered after me, “You were supposed to turn around at the cone! I thought you meant which way to go around the cone!” There were no arrows or signs at the cone that would indicate to turn around and head back the other way. Eventually, I found my way through the maze to the finish line, still feeling very strong— I think I had a good number of six minute miles left in me. The weather was beautiful. Cloudy early, with light rain starting about half way through and a temp around 60°.
Here are some pictures. Because a picture is worth a thousand words.
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