Weekend memories

Third day after the marathon, and I am breathing a bit easier. I am now officially over the need to walk down the steps backwards as well as the desire to install handicapped- accessible bars on either side of our toilet.

So, here's a bit more about our weekend adventure in Sequim-Port Angeles.

Joined by friends Laurel and Kevin (and dog Loki), SMH and I headed up to P.A. last Friday evening. On Saturday morning, we took the ferry over the Victoria, BC, where we spent the day wandering in the dreary PNW rain, stopping for breakfast, drinks and snacks along the way.

I am sure you would be surprised to find out that I was stressing and obsessing about the marathon all day Saturday. Me, obsess? Yes, it's true, and as I was busy obsessively plotting out charts and maps during the ferry ride, SMH interrupted to show me an article in the Seattle Times about one of the marathon monks of Mt. Hiei. Suddenly, the race the next day lost some of its significance. See, when I run, I carry Gu, which I will use to replenish my energy if I start to bonk. When the monk runs, he carries a rope and a sword, which he will use to kill himself if he is unable to complete his daily journey. Eeek.

After returning to P.A. Saturday evening, we had dinner, followed by a walk along the final stretch of the marathon. Here we are in the chute, with the finish line just behind us...

...And there I am about 50 feet from the finish line of the marathon, from the perspective of SMH and Kevin, who were enjoying a beer from the balcony of our hotel room. (A well-deserved beer, I might add, after rushing around the course all morning.) Funny thing about this photo ... I don't remember smiling and waving to the fellas. In fact, I don't even remember acknowledging them. And I don't remember Laurel peeling off here. I don't recall much of anything except wanting it to be over and wanting to get out of the cold rain.

Can you tell it wasn't a big race? Where are all the crowds at mile 26???

One of the reasons I chose this marathon was because Sequim is reputed to be one of the sunniest places this side of the mountains. But not Sunday. Sunday, it was windy, wet and chilly. Which makes it all the more amazing that Laurel jumped in and carried me through the last third of the race. She is the only thing that kept me going. As nice as the charming bridges were along the course -- as nice as the cows were, serenading us with their moos -- as nice as the trumpet player was at the water stop, playing "Happy Days" as slow as molasses (and apparently "Deck the Halls", too) -- as nice as the last stretch along the water was -- there was nothing, nothing, as good as having Laurel there to push me through. She told good jokes, posed some thought-provoking "would you rather..." scenarios, and kindly encouraged me and other runners with crazy exclamations like "You look great! You look strong! You're awesome!" I knew they weren't true -- I looked like hell -- but I clung to her every last word. Thanks, Laurel! And Kevin, SMH and Loki!