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<\/a><\/p>\nThe sunrise over Lake Michigan was beautiful though.<\/p>\n
As the race began, we trudged along on our own for several miles. Marathoners met up with the halfers around mile 4 through 9 and it required a bit of Millennium Falconing.<\/p>\n But after the split, it was, as another runner said to me, like a bomb had gone off and the walking dead were all we had left. Wide open, empty roads and paths through parks, industrial districts, and the odd bike trail.<\/p>\n There were still the helpful aid station volunteers and a smattering of hardy supporters but overall there was much more of the loneliness of the long distance runner vibe… and as that fellow runner said, it felt of a post-apocalyptic landscape wherein the population wasn’t decimated (as that would technically only be a 10% decline) but it was wiped out en masse and only a handful of us remained.<\/p>\n The biggest criticism I could lodge is that the turnaround at mile 19.5 was poorly marked. There was a spray painted arrow on the bike path but MANY runners hadn’t seen it and there was no volunteer directing us to turn around. A lot of us ran right past it, looking for someone to tell us we had reached the turnaround. I was lucky enough to have a lot of faster runners come back toward me saying we had missed the turnaround. As a result, I probably only did an extra quarter to half mile whereas the speedsters ahead of me probably added a mile or more to their “marathon.” These things happen and I was nonchalant about it; had I been shooting for a PR or BQ though I could see myself raging.<\/p>\n Heading back to where we started, we ran along a glistening Lake Michigan. At some point a fish jumped out of the water and kersplashed back in, sounding like a brick had been thrown nearby. I’m sure the few spectators around had a chuckle as I momentarily flailed about like a fish myself trying to source where the sound had come from.<\/p>\n And that’s how it ended – not with a bang, but with a splash. I grabbed a few cookies, some chocolate milk, and wandered over to check my results. I don’t think I earned the 3rd place in my age group as I assume some faster runners got detoured by the unmarked turnaround. And yet my position stats seemed fairly consistent at split times. So I took the medal. I regret it, I don’t feel good about it, but I did it.<\/p>\n I had a free root beer realizing I’m not a fan of root beer. I skipped the complimentary Coors Light as I’m not a fan of piss-poor beer either. ZING! Honestly I was perhaps most saddened to see the sign telling me kids born today in 1995 were 21. That felt like a punch to the gut followed by several kicks to my writhing on the ground fetal position soul.<\/p>\n As for the race itself, it’s fine. Nothing that made me rant or rave. It was what I did today. A solid run, a good time, a beautiful day to be out and about. No complaints really, even with the detour.<\/p>\n I headed to the airport and splashed soap and water on my face to get a bit of the crusty salt off me. I dunno — maybe I shouldn’t ever wash my hair as I feel like post-Run I was having a pretty good hair day!<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a><\/p>\n<\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a> <\/a><\/p>\n<\/a> <\/a> <\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n