The 2007 WDW Half Marathon was my first and hopefully not my last. I had been running for the last two years after I ventured outside the house one fine February morning when I decided to give the treadmill the day off. The cool morning air and the opportunity to exercise our dog, Rocket, suited me very well. In fact, it suited me too well. Freed of the confines of the treadmill, I started running faster and longer which resulted in shin splints. After recovering and then repeating the same bad habits, I researched correct running habits. I bought good running shoes, started Hal Higdon’s training program and talked to other runners.
I am not a fast runner. My 5K times are over thirty minutes. I finished a 10K run at Kennedy Space Center in 1:17:07. Slow, but I knew I was faster than the 16:00 pace mile to avoid being apprehended by the dreaded sweepers.
The race day started at 3:00 am when the alarm finally went off. It seemed like I kept looking over at it all night, but I know I must have slept since I had a couple of weird dreams. I downed a Clif Bar with some hot chocolate in hopes to give the digestive tract a jump start. I followed that with some Gatorade and out the hotel we all went.
We arrived at the volunteer assembly parking lot just after 3:45 am. I dropped off my volunteer family, parked the car, and began the trek to the monorail for Epcot. There wasn’t much talking on the monorail, but the view inside Epcot was beautiful. All of the park was lit up as if guests were present, but the whole grounds were empty. Eerie sight. I got off of the monorail and visited the nearest restroom. The hot chocolate did what I had hoped it would to my digestive tract.
As I wandered over to the starting area, I saw a small cottontail bunny hopping about on the sidewalk. I had no idea that Roger Rabbit’s friends would venture that far into a theme park area. I took it as a good sign.
I took in the sights at the assembly area and asked for another runner to snap a picture of me next to one of the banners. With fuel belt loaded and securely fastened, camera in my pocket and GPS tucked into the belt pocket, I went to the tent to deposit my gear bag. Unfortunately, the letter on the outside of the tent stands for your first name! So, I went back to the other end of the alphabet and then into the holding area. I visited the porta-potty with its long line. Someone announced that the lines were much shorter further to the west. I went there, and sure enough, no long lines.
I can’t tell you when, but the announcer called for Wave B to head towards the starting line. I figured that all the stories about how far it was to get to the starting line were exaggerated. They weren’t. (The miles and time passed by quickly, though.)
Loud music. Welcome announcements. Warnings to the runners urinating in the adjacent woods. Star Spangled Banner, complete with the rocket’s red glare and the bombs bursting in air. At a couple of minutes before 6:00 am we counted down the seconds for the wheelchair participants’ start. At 6:00 am the same count for the Wave A runners. 6:10 am it’s our turn. Just under seven minutes later, I cross the start line. The ChampionChip equipment is screaming. Dozens of runners passing over the sensor at the same time result in one very long beeeeep.
I start running on the grass as soon as I see some. Surprisingly, very few others are leaving the pavement to run. Many are leaving the pavement to visit the bushes and trees. I don’t know if this is for some sort of ritual or just nervous bladders. These bladder detours continue for at least the next couple of miles.
Run five minutes, walk one. Run five minutes, walk one. First mile marker comes up at 12:30. Can’t believe I am going this fast while taking walking breaks. Jeff Galloway and John “The Penguin” Bingham are geniuses. (Thanks, gentlemen, for your websites.)
I stopped at all of the water breaks, food stations and for every photo opportunity with the characters. Even invent some of my own photo opportunities with non-character cast members.
Finally enter the Magic Kingdom after sunrise. Can’t understand why everyone else isn’t stopping for pictures. (Maybe they took all the pictures they wanted last year.) No line is more than two or three deep for photos. (Picture taking goes very fast when you don’t have to wait for autograph hounds.) Remembered to smile for the professional photographers at the castle. Waved at all of the nice spectators and took pictures of them, too. This is really fantastic. Miles 6 and 7 are each over 17:00 as I take in everything. Includes seventeen photos, one real bathroom break and a food stop.
Leave the park for what I thought was going to be a long desolate stretch. More characters and photos. More spectators. More bands, DJs and cheerleaders. No wonder so many rave about this race.
Fastest mile is mile 10. 12:20 pace. No characters = no photos. Water station #10. Wife and kids are there handing out PowerAde. Stop to chat and watch them work. They are having a great time, too. Lots of running “characters” with strange tales. Can’t wait to hear all the stories they have to tell.
Up and over the cloverleaf. Mile 11. Farther I have ever been in one session. Run five minutes, walk one minute is really paying off. Decide to pick up the pace. Left calf votes against this proposal. Right thigh is ready to second the dissenting vote. Back to the routine that got me here so far. Run five, walk one. One more overpass and then another. Someone from the sidelines shouts that this is the last hill. Liar. I count two more going into Epcot. To me, at mile 12, an slight incline counts as a hill.
Epcot! More exhilaration. Fountain is shooting and playing theme music. Park guests have to wait for us. Nice crowd control. Down to the lake. More characters! Yes! Chip and Dale are there! These are the two I have been waiting for. Click. On my way. High fives with runners coming the other direction and well-wishers. High fours with cast members wearing Mickey gloves.
Mile 13. 528 feet to go. Finish line. Tears welling up in eyes? Can’t be. Fight them back to preserve pseudo dignity. Silver blanket for a warm Florida day. Free, so I take it. Chip removal lady. Donald Duck Medal volunteer. Yes, put it on me. Beeline to the refreshment tent. Oranges have never tasted this good. Time to stretch. Left thigh violently objects. Okay, we’ll just walk with the rest of the living dead. Everyone is moving much slower now. Some aren’t moving at all. Laying on their silver Mylar blankets on the “soft” asphalt. Looks good. I fold my blanket into a cushion and place it next to a parking post. Try to sit down. Left calf says, “No.” Try to sit down a different way. Success. Post acts as back rest. Call family at water station. They are on bus heading back to parking lot. Will meet them as soon as I can catch the monorail back. Try to get up. Try to get up, again. Ask volunteer for a hand up. God bless the volunteers. Meander back to the monorail station choosing path carefully. Avoiding any extra steps. Stand on the monorail. Don’t want to chance not getting up and having to endure a roundtrip. Meet family in parking lot. Kids are sleeping. Use Mylar blanket to cover car seat. Great day. Great race. 2:58:17. Thought I would be over three hours.
