I Made It

This is a story about true love.  True love, my mother told me once, “is taking a second semester of statistics because your husband can’t make it through the course without you.”  This story is similar to that.   I’m going to tell the story verbatim.   Telling the actual story as it happened exactly, except I’m going to change some things to make me look better.

My husband and I ran a half marathon last night in Las Vegas.   We first ran the strip out towards the airport until we reached the, “Welcome to Las Vegas” sign.   Everyone turned around and headed back along the strip, passing the towering casinos, heading towards downtown.   Once we got all the way to the old downtown area we circled back again, to return and finish near where we’d started on the strip.

There are a lot of people running in big races like this, which requires a lot of coordination.   There was a staging area set up to house everyone.   The staging area had a stage with a band playing.   It was packed and we had to be there hours before our race start time.   Once our group was called we piled in with a mass of people to walk towards the start line.   Once we got near the start line we waited and inched up for another forty-five minutes before our group crossed the start line to begin the race.

I run with pants that have lots of pockets.  I put my phone in one and have my room key, drivers license, chapstick (it was dry and windy) in another.   I was also holding eight Gu packets for my husband and me to eat along the run, every half-hour or so.   They consist of sugar, caffeine and some other nutrients that help as you run.

As we got in the mass of people I told my husband, “I need to use the restroom and I don’t know if I can hold it until we finish running three-ish hours from now.”   And there was a problem with that because my husband, who was running a half marathon for the first time, was trying to make finish with a certain overall pace.

I knew what the porta potty situation was like on this race: there are none for the first few miles and then there are two or so.   Everyone who’s been holding it since the staging area sees the first chance to go and gets in the long line.   When I ran this race with my best friend she said she couldn’t wait for more options ahead, so we waited.

And indeed in the next few miles there were more options with much shorter or almost no line.  When we got to the first stop on the race I told my husband I’d try and hold it until we got further in.  We were doing well on the pace so far and wanted to keep it up.   As my husband’s trusty Gu mule, I didn’t want to let him down.

We kept going and I told him to not remind me about it because I was focusing on not paying attention to the grumbling complaints from my digestive tract.  I really didn’t think I was going to make it, but every time we got to another set of porta potties I said I’d keep going.   We were making our pace and truthfully, I didn’t want to let my husband down.

As we got closer to the end, the last there miles or so, my husband didn’t really need me, but by now I was committed to making it to the end without stopping.   My husband’s longest run while he was training for this race was 10.5 miles.   He was running his longest run ever by now and the going was getting tough.

But we made it.  He made it.   Apparently on the web site I beat him by a second, although we crossed the finish line together.   He was just glad to be done.   I was just glad to be heading to the hotel room.

It’s just as complicated to get away from the finish line as it is to get to the start line.  There are the people handing out the medals, the food and drink people making sure you’re hydrated and have pretzels or bananas or some brand of something being given out free in the hopes you’ll repeatedly buy the product later.   There are the metallic, plastic reflective sheets to keep you warm and then the rows of UPS trucks with bag check from before the start of the race.   Then, eventually, you can get out of the blocked in race area to head towards your final destination.

And our destination was right at the exit point from the race, which was all my husband’s planning when he reserved our hotel room.   I was proud of my husband, but I left him as soon as I could get away because holding it for four hours was my limit.

The Big Boy Update:  My father-in-law sent a video of my son on the floor with the puppy hopping over his head.   I’ll have to find out about this new trick when we get home.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  The other day my daughter was talking to her friends.   I don’t know what the conversation was about at all, but I heard my daughter say, “I know, a bikini is where you lift up your shirt."