Let me say again what a great race this was! Timing-wise it's not what I
hoping for (I was 22 minutes off my hoped-for 4:45 time), but it was so much
fun!
After much thought, I've decided to blame the 22 extra minutes on the
humidity (a foreign concept for those of us in So. California), and on my
4-year old, who dragged me to greet every single character at Disney (or was
it Epcot?) the day before the race.
The start of the race was very cirque du soleilesque, and much in line with
Epcot's futuristic thing about global peace, cosmic unity, and such.
Inspirational and exciting... and at the very least entertaining at 5 in the
morning.
It was this fun and special atmosphere that made it so unreal and (how to
say this?), so very *wrong* to see a fallen runner right after the first
mile marker. He was being given CPR and from what the paramedics were doing,
his condition seemed pretty bad (this from my ER-working husband).
For a good portion of the race I could not shake the image of the fallen
runner... it was so incongruent to feel SO alive and to be so close to
somebody close to death.
Somehow, and thanks to the Penguin scream team, the many Disney Deads in
dalmatian attire, and the overwhelming positive energy of the runners and
volunteers, those thoughts dissipated (as did, unfortunately, the cloud
covering) and I was a happy runner, running happy again.
I was keeping good track of my pace, and somewhere after mile 15, I started
having a hard time remembering when I had hit the previous mile... After a
while, I started having a hard time remembering where exactly in the course
I was. Was it mile 18 or 19...? Luckily, enough brain cells were firing to
let me know I needed to continue sucking on those Power Gels (which I did,
whith
silent movie intensity...). I never got to the point of really wondering who
I was and what I was doing there, but it *was* getting hotter and hotter,
and by mile 23 I really felt like Penguin doo-doo. Somehow I managed to
shuffle forward, and by the time we were reentering Epcot I regained enough
vanity to make myself run in front of the park visitors; I know it's a mame
thing, but hey, it got me running again and through the finish line. Talk
about TBZ: at mile 25 the guy in front of me started ringing (his cell phone
was somewhere in his shorts). Before I knew it, I had screamed at him: "Will
you GET IT???" A few steps later the lack of glucose made the whole thing
seem hilarious (what if it was a wrong number? what if it was a
telemarketer?), and I started giggling again.
The end was cool: more pink, more Penguins. Chip off. And the biggest and
heaviest medal I was ever seen... What a treat!
The downer side: that evening we learned that the fallen runner never made
it; the first guy that tried to help him also started having chest pain and
he too collapsed. A group of paramedics that were running the race ended up
helping both, but only one made it. Could things get worse, you ask? Yes.
The fallen runner's wife found out about her husband only after she finished
her own race some 7 hours later.
This (the good, the fun, the sad, the tragic, the nagging doubts as to
whether we should have stopped and helped...) will stay with me for a long
long time. Thank you for letting me share.
Nangel
