I first saw the Disney medals last February after I had foolishly signed up for the Tampa Gasparilla Distance Classic PT Cruiser Challenge. This consisted of running a 15K along Tampa Bay on Saturday morning, directly followed by a 5K later that morning, then followed on Sunday by the Full Tampa Marathon. It didn't kill me, or even cripple me, and I'd say offhand, that I scored about 49 out of a mere 52 who completed the PT Challenge. I came home with 3 extremely ugly Finisher's medals (I've gotta say, I find a Finisher's medal for a 5K to be more of an annoying piece of clutter than anything else, unless we're talking about the Arlington 9/11 Memorial 5K medallion. That's different.), two identical cotton t-shirts, and one long-sleeved tech shirt in Ouch-vibrant yellow. Later I was sent a red wind-jacket embroidered with "I survived the PT Challenge 2005" and two trivets bearing the same brag.

But while wandering around the Expo for these races, I caught sight of the Walt Disney World Marathon booth. The Disney medals were AWESOME. Until then, Disney's Marathon had not impressed me. I'd heard tales about it's spectator-unfriendly course, it's long BORING stretches of miles on access roads between the all-too short runs through the actual theme parks, it's early morning corralling, and high fees. But gee, those MEDALS were awesome. I really wanted both, someday.

Next I heard rumors of Disney's brand new Goofy Challenge. For 2006, you could run the Half Marathon on Saturday, take on the Full Marathon on Sunday, and that would get you the Golden Donald Medal (for the Half), the Golden Mickey (for the Full) and a brand new medal, The Golden Goofy Hat, for being Goofy enough to think you could run both races in one weekend. Well, that suited me to a T. I could get BOTH those awesome medals, PLUS a third, in an INAUGURAL EVENT, and not have to make two expensive forays into the Worlds of Disney to do it! Yup. I signed on.

Being a member of the 50+ Club here in the DC area, I was running multiple race weekends, anyway. And I was a Survivor of the PT Cruiser Challenge. I knew I could do Goofy. All it meant was: train train train.

I did so, although not as flawlessly as I had trained for the PT. I had unexpected work conflicts, and my back-to-back race days evaporated away. Snow cancellations of Rudolph Red-Nose Run and AS Anniversary 15K, a traffic jam that kept me from ever reaching the Cranberry Crawl at awl. Needless to say, I got in my long runs, although not the supported local race event-training that I'd planned.

Ready for Goofy.

Then, at the final stage of taper, I was hit with a terrific head cold. The night before flying to Orlando, I couldn't breathe through my nose at all, my ears had the acuity of someone submerged, and my head felt like it was stuffed with clammy wet Thorlo socks. Timing. Yeah. Always my strong point.

But I was alive, I was registered, reserved into a Disney hotel, booked on Southwest. I was going to Disney.

I met up with my Disney roommate-and-fellow Goofyer, Nancy T, at the airport. Wearing my tall green Goofy hat with long black ears, I was spotted immediately as she deplaned, and we boarded Disney's Magical Express to the Polynesian Resort.

The next bummer was the cigarette-smoke STANKIN' room we were given. No other rooms available until after both races Sunday afternoon, too late to do us any good. We put on the AC to Arctic Blast and went off to Disney's Expo. That took over an hour to reach, and was a mass of crowds and confusion when we entered. We got our t-shirts, our bibs, our chips, and our wrists were banded with blue plastic bracelets which were to remain on until we'd finished the Half Marathon, when we'd trade the blue one for a similar orange one. (Thus proving we were still "in the running" for Goofy). Nancy was dopey as well as Goofy, and had signed up for the Chicken Little 5K after the Half Marathon. She came close to bribing me to run it with her, but I had a cold, and my stuffed-but-more-level head prevailed. I decided not to push it. All I needed to do was wake up with a fever on marathon day, and my Goofy medal was a vanishing species.

Back to eat with friends at the Polynesian's Kona Cafe (excellent!), and then prep for race morning.

Three a.m. wake-up. Coffee, instant oatmeal, the monorail ride in the cold-as-Maryland-winter-we-thought-we-had-left Florida morning. Pitch black. The race start was scheduled at 6 a.m.

Over-amplified, grating pump-'em-up drill from Sarge, the Disney Character from Toy Story. Not inspiring. Obnoxious, loud, and non-stop, meant to spur us through the baggage check tents that everyone had to pass through to get to the port-o-pots, and beyond to the corrals and the start line. I was grid-locked in the chaos for what seemed like eons before finally getting to the proper tent, and passing through to the other side, where at least we were shielded from the worst of Sarge's over-the-top barking.

There, I called CBRC's Jonathan Hope, who had left a message on my cell phone the night before. We talked a bit, and went our separate ways. Me, to the port-o-pot lines (which were very quick. Many many port-o-pots!), then to join the exodus toward the corrals, still in this dark, predawn Florida Ice Age.

More over-amplification at the corrals. Somewhere up there by Corral A is a stage with entertainment. I can't see it from Corral D, and I can't find Nancy, but looking for her, I run into another friend, and we speak a bit. He's a Floridian, and he is frozen just about solid with this unexpected winter. He plans to run much faster than I want to go, so I turn around and head back to my corral. By now, it's full to the brim, so I wait outside, taking off my extra-layer sweat pants, which finds me on my butt in the frosty grass when the National Anthem is sung. Oh, well. So much for proper respect. But the singer did a lovely pop rendition of the song, and everyone cheered and applauded. Count-down, then fireworks up ahead signal the race start.

We move ahead like a glacier in thousands of running shoes. Right at the Start mats, there are all the Main Characters: Donald and Daisy, Mickey and Minnie, and of course, Goofy! For the first time, I am into the spirit of this, and I laugh my way over the Start mats onto the course. Underway at last!

From here on, this was a blast, pure and simple. I ran easy, as much due to the fact that I didn't want to make myself sick before completing the marathon tomorrow, as to the fact that it was too dark to see either my watch or my pace band for about the first hour of the race. I didn't give a fig about my half marathon time. I knew I had no fear of being swept because the cut-off was so lenient (a 16-minute mile pace), so I chatted and laughed and enjoyed the scenery. While in the actual Magic Kingdom, I turned instantly into a child at my first glimpse of the Characters lining the race route, the spectators in Goofy hats and Mouse ears, the Disney cast members out to cheer us on.

I would NOT have chosen to give runners banana halves at a water stop. This turned a brief portion of the race route into a scene that rightly belonged in a Three Stooges clip, with runners skidding and slipping on banana peels dropped heedlessly onto the course by clueless runners ahead of them. Please, save your bananas for POST-RACE, Race Directors!

The Half was a piece of cake for me, having trained for Goofy's race-and-a-half, and I meandered my way through it like a tourist excursion. It stayed blustery and too cold, and I ended up re-dressing in other runner's cast-off gloves, jacket, and hat along the way. I was not running fast enough to create the body heat to stay warm. Afterward, I got my Golden Donald, my Finisher's pic, my massage, and I finally found my way back to the monorail and the Polynesian. It was still cold and windy, and I started to feel headachey and tired after the race. I needed to regroup for the next day's marathon.

Rehydrate, refuel, Kona Cafe again (again excellent!) for dinner. We headed back to the room early, deja vu for the pre-race prep, and early to bed. Deja vu times two on marathon morning. Pitch black, cold, coffee and oatmeal in the room, monorail to the start. Today, however, it was much less chaotic, and I was able to get away from drill-Sarge and his commands. A quick introduction of Nancy and Jonathan in the massage tent, where savvy runners have congregated to stay warm, then Disney is calling it's PC version of "head 'em up, move 'em out, get those doggies rollin'" toward the corrals.

The Marathon had two routes: a Red Start and a Blue Start. Blue starters Nancy and I stuck together and lined up in Corral C. It was still as cold this morning, but without the winds of the day before, it felt much warmer. Another rendition of the Star-Spangled Banner found me fidgeting with my throw-away work-out pants, and then the countdown and fireworks started us off on the full marathon. I realized my right running shoe was too loosely tied, and I pulled out of the line onto the grass to retie, then retied the left as well. Rejoining the throng heading toward the chip mat, I was unable to locate Nancy in the dark. I was on my own.

MARATHON! I love the marathon. I love the idea of the journey before me, the excitement of the mass of runners all around me. Here we all go, marathoners and Goofyers in the dark Disney morn!

Having run through the blackness yesterday, I didn't try to look at my pace bands or my watch, except to take unreadable splits at each miler marker. Disney has a clock at EVERY mile (except mile 3 was not functioning when I passed) so not being able to read my own watch was not troubling in the least. I just ran and let the miles pass.

Into Epcot we ran through the World Showcase, the foreign lands, Disneyfied and miniaturized, lit and and still sporting Christmas decorations. Festival marathoners!

As the dawn arrived, I felt like part of some giant migration. We were on the access roads now, which I had dreaded as being dull and tedious, but for me, it was beautiful. Pines and scrub and grasslands, sections where the swamp this used to be still peeked out, and the runners: running running running, enveloped before and behind me in a heavy mist as the sun rose.

I enjoyed the people who had dressed for Disney as Tinkerbells and Goofys, Minnies and Mickeys, and even a young man all out as Stitch, waving and laughing and going steadily forward, to the next mile and the next.

This was the easiest marathon of the six I've run. I kept waiting for the unraveling to begin, for the twinges and aches and complaints of my muscles to get loud, for the repetitive pounding on the mostly flat course to start to wear me down. It didn't happen. I had a bit of pain from blisters on the bottom of my feet, but it never got bad. The heat that I'd feared, as a slow marathoner running in Florida, never got uncomfortable. Around mile 18, I stopped in the first port-o-pot that I'd seen without a line, and pulled off my under-layer tech shirt, but kept the long-sleeved Donald Half tech shirt I had on top, as a shield from the sun. A volunteer handed me a wet sponge, and I carried this and used it to keep my face cool through the whole rest of the run.

When I saw fun Characters, I stopped and waited for a snapshot with them, or I ran by, as whim prompted me. This IS Disney, so my goal was not so much for a quick marathon, but a memorable one. By now I could read my 5:30 pace-band, and I was easily and consistently ahead of pace. I just wanted to have fun, and that's what I did.

My most striking recollections of the marathon were the energy spurts when passing through the parks, through the Castle, past the Red Queen and The White Rabbit, Tweedledum and Tweedledee, and the Disney spectators lining the route. Alternately, I was struck by the almost trail running feel through the scrub land on the access roads, a bit of quiet after the frenzy and shouting of the parks. The lines of cheerleaders and bands at intervals were amusing, but I really didn't need charging up or urging on, and I enjoyed the respite from the hullaballoo when it arrived. Running in my groove, on toward the end.

And finally, it was late in the race. Miles 20 and on. Out-and-back on Disney highway, seeing the runners ahead, then seeing the ones behind as I reached the turn-around. I love that in races, it energizes and inspires me.

Heading toward Epcot, I have caught up with and passed the 5:30 pace group. I had planned to follow them home, no-brainer-like,  for my desired time. But I found I could keep up with them when they were running and I was taking a walk-break. So I left them behind. I was ready to finish now.

The final portion of the marathon felt long. The route twists and turns almost continuously through the narrowest sections of the course. People taking walk breaks are a road-hazard now, as are the jay-walking Disney-goers who dart out to cross in front of us as we go by. The Disney staff does an excellent job of keeping them out of the way at the "cross-walks", but you really have to keep your wits about you here.

Then there's the clock! I saw nothing else once the clock came into view. Later, after getting my Mickey medal, my Goofy medal, my massage and port-o-pot stop, my feeding frenzy on muffins and Florida oranges, while waiting for pictures with Goofy after the race, I noticed that Pluto was waving and escorting runners across the mats. And in my own official shot online I can see him there behind me, too. In Finish Clock Tunnel Vision, I hadn't seen him at all when I crossed myself.

NEXT TIME, I'm going to run right up to him and HIGH FOUR him before I Finish.

Because, you know what? I'm Goofy enough that I want to do this all AGAIN! :-)

*jeanne*