Recovery

Where are Gage and Desoto when you need them? You know... sometimes a guy just gotsta have his D5W.



Yeah -- I was pretty well spent at the end of the marathon. During the race, I felt tired, and my legs were cursing at me...but I didn't fully recognize all of my symptoms until after I crossed the finish line.

Even then, I had no real problem collecting my medal; all I had to do was let one of the nice volunteers put the ribbon around my neck. I spotted Claire as soon as she yelled my name, and had no problem grabbing a frosty water bottle from one of the ice-filled finish chute wading pools.

But I didn't have the strength to twist off the cap. And I really, really wanted to lie down. I noticed that the lower half of my face was tingling as a wobbled through the rest of the gauntlet, but I still managed to collect some Sport Beans, Clif Bars, and a Pepsi to go in the Kaiser Permanente grocery bag they handed me. A couple of my Revolution Running friends were still in the chute, so I chatted with them for a bit. (They had good races, too, by the way!) But I knew I wasn't my usual eloquent self, so I excused myself from the conversation and continued to weave my way toward the pen exit.

A kindly stranger opened my water bottle, and Claire (bless her heart!) was right by the exit to support my sweaty frame as I staggered out. I sipped some water as I assessed the extent of my facial numbness. I knew that I should eat something, but the very thought made me nauseated. Claire guided me to a bare spot in the grass and continued to talk to me as I maneuvered to the sweet relief of the supine position. It felt really good to lie down.

But apparently the volunteer staff had been trained to keep an eagle eye out for random bodies sprawled near the finish line. Within moments, there were staffers hovering above with concern on their faces. A police officer arrived moments later. They all informed me that a refreshing IV was available nearby, and that they'd be happy to help me make my way over to where I could be appropriately needled.

I told them I was fine, thanked them, and waved them away. But unfortunately, that is precisely when my stomach decided to empty itself. I rolled over on my side and shamefully barfed out what appeared to be the energy chews that didn't go into my windpipe.

Geez. How humiliating! Not only had I fallen apart at the end of the race, but I had now embarrassed myself in front of my girlfriend and the world at large. It couldn't get any worse, I thought.

Ah, but it did.

The police officer thumbed his radio. "This is Officer Lucky requesting medical support near the exit gate. We have a senior citizen who is dehydrated and vomiting and needs assistance."

Wait...what?

Did that dude just call me a senior citizen? Senior citizen! Really?

I transitioned directly from puking to laughter, which probably made them all think I was having a stroke or a senility fit or something. But Officer Lucky (and yes, that really was his name) had unintentionally put the day in perspective for me. An hour ago I had felt like Superman, on his way to a stellar sub-4:30 race performance. A half hour ago, I had felt like an undertrained and overambitious idiot who might need crutches to stumble over the finish line. But in neither of those scenarios did I remotely envision myself as a senior freakin' citizen. As time goes on, I will likely forget the details of running through the stadium or past the dragon boats, and even the hazards of eating and inhaling...but I will never forget lying in the grass next to a pile of puke and laughing at being reminded that I'm really really OLD.

But you know what? I just ran a full marathon. I ain't dead yet.

EPILOG: I never did get the IV. I just kept drinking water and breathing deeply. (Thanks, by the way, to Rich and Raechal Clark for donating their water bottles to the cause, and also for their outstanding performance as Race Ambassadors.) I didn't feel like having my free beer, or eating the race-provided BBQ meal. I just wanted to go home. But before the evening was over, I'll have you know that I enjoyed a Brownie Batter Blizzard at the local Dairy Queen. That's when I knew that I was going to make a full recovery.

Again, thanks to everyone for your support and encouragement, and for helping me maintain my illusion of youth. Have a great day!