Planes, Trains, & Automobiles...

Actually, hiking, biking, & running... 😂

My earliest memories of hiking are when Dad would take us kids out on a trek while we'd be camping. Mom came along a time or two; it was mainly just Dad with us & not Mom for the most part. I think it just wasn't her "thing".

I really loved hiking. It had all the "right stuff" included. Nature, moving around, stretching, oftentimes a campground nearby; it was bliss.

The treks where Dad would take us, if we did need walking sticks, we'd usually just go "hardcore" & grab the nearest applicable fallen tree branches. Even then I think that Dad made sure that where we'd go & what we'd do would be a bit more tame than needing those sticks. If we'd return to camp with our shoes too muddy or dirty Mom would likely be making sure that we'd keep that part of nature out of our small pop-up camper. She'd be bringing us another set of clean socks & shoes, & if we needed them, long pants too. We'd definitely have been sent out on the hike with long sleeves & long pants. We weren't going to risk anyone rubbing up against anything that might leave any lasting (even if only lasting as long as our camping trip) memories.

Fast forward to super recent. I'm finding myself as of late becoming more & more addicted to being outside & being active while outside (aside from when I'm crocheting). If it's daylight & it's not raining (well, even if it is raining! 😂) then being outside seems to be the bestest place I can consider myself to be.

That's my story & I'm sticking to it! 😂


I even discovered, with my lack of coordination & equal lack of desire [read: avoidance] for all things organized team sports, the majority of what's tucked inside my tiny little compact hatchback of a vehicle is a bicycle, a bicycle helmet, an old pair of running shoes to wear while riding on said bicycle, a pair of these (hiking sstiks), a pair of these (hking boots), & two pairs of running shoes. Typically I also have a bag of clothes that will cover the gamete of whatever I might need, should I be somewhere & well, need them. A few tank tops, a few pairs of socks (for running, though I should add one pair for hiking too 😏), sports bras, a running skirt, bike shorts, long stretchy pants (that I'd most likely wear while hiking, though could also double for wear if someone offered me their backseat aboard their bike, as in their motorcycle).

In an effort to adequately fit the bicycle in my tiny backseat I found myself finally parting ways from stowing the jacket/hoodie I earned from running the Hot Chocolate 15K roughly five years ago. There'd been a group of runners, of which since has dispersed, who noticed this 5K/15K opportunity. At first I was cautious, what with the much-higher-than-is-typically-the-case entrance fee. It is nice that an event here & there provides a goodie bag of something other than a short-sleeved t-shirt, even if the t-shirt is moisture-wicking and/or fitted specifically to a man or woman & not just an "adult-sized shirt".

So there I'd received said sweatshirt, which came with a deep pocket in the back, adequate for all things smartphone, key(s), &, yes, I've even stuffed a pair of dollar store gloves in that pocket when the occasion called for it. The garment is fitted; however, it's fitted to me quite well, which makes it all the better & something I came to rely on...solely rely on...while I trained in the early, inclement weather months of this calendar year. Basically, if the temperature wouldn't be over forty degrees, I knew that, by wearing it, I'd be as comfortable as I needed to be. With the hood, one that closes in near my face & neck, & the zipper that tucks underneath the fabric to remain comfortable next to my chin & neck, & a quality zipper - one that glides smoothly & doesn't get caught up - which seems silly to note, though is of great practicality when a runner is trying to quickly shift themselves for comfort from the weather while in motion.

It's this sweatshirt/hoodie which still hadn't been removed from the backseat of my tiny compact vehicle. The temperatures round these parts had snuck into the 80s, most often the mid-to-upper 80s, essentially on that weekend while I was out-of-state running back-to-back marathons. So I was busy not really noticing that Springtime had finally sprung - other than loving all of the extended daylight minutes & hours. Apparently it was time to take that sweatshirt out.

Another, that I'd initially planned to also take out, has somewhat become what I consider to be my "fifty degrees" sweatshirt. It came to me by way of a gift. At that time I'd been 😕 about now having this sweatshirt as well...After all, I have so many! Well, lo & behold, I began wearing it, & it became just what I'd need (along with two long-sleeved shirts underneath it 😊). I decided to leave this one in my vehicle, especially considering that if I might find myself on the back of someone's motorcycle, it could be something good to wear for that ride. So it stayed. It's in there alongside my new bicycle, helmet, these, & these. 😂

I've not been on a bicycle in at least five years. And I'd been noticing some opportunities to join others & get out & ride. I know it can be a great cross-training exercise; it's just something different. More terrain is often covered sooner (as in, more quickly) & air [read: wind] moves around a rider differently than it does a runner. It's a similar activity with separate perks. It seemed time to add a bicycle back into my stash of belongings.

My newly attained hiking apparatus is a direct result of getting on a trail, which, in most ways, brought me back nearly 100% to those memories of hiking while camping with Dad as our guide. The hiking boots I'd already owned weren't the right size. I tried them on this new-to-me trail & realized I'd be best off getting these. They're a larger size (comparable to my running shoe size, not my dress shoe size) & possess the perks necessary in a solid hiking boot; they are treating me well. Appropriate hiking socks are a great idea & equal partners to the hiking boot.  These are a good match, especially for height (mid-calf versus higher) to the pair of hiking socks I own & are a good set for back-ups for me.  I've one pair from when I purchased my smaller sized hiking boots, realizing back then that wearing running socks with hiking boots is a little bit like trying to fit that square peg in that round hole; better could be accomplished. In this case these new hiking memories are made better in many ways by a few accidental friendships. I've picked up along the way, thus further making the activity of hiking an even better thing.

So, in my best efforts to have just what I'd need in my vehicle in order to fold away the backseat & wedge my new bicycle in that same tiny space, I removed most everything else. The few fabric shopping bags & other ordinary necessities found themselves stowed nearby the passenger seat. Thus it is now why the backseat of my vehicle visually describes these three sporting activities.

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All Things Oranges

Maybe this should really be titled, "Most Things Oranges"... 😉

Let me tell you about my newest revelation regarding the orange...That is, the fruit which is the orange. 😂

First I should begin by explaining that it's only been rather recently that I realized just how much of an orange is edible. I'd been baking a delicious, very peanut buttery bread, where the recipe calls for a teaspoon of orange peel, since I was, well, I think around third or fourth grade when Dad found that recipe in a "home" magazine.

Mom & Dad would always just have a container of the "spice" "orange peel" in the cupboard along with their basil, cloves, parsley, etc., etc. Then I learned that, using one of these (or a fork, or something else that I've yet to learn about, I could utilize my own "fresh" orange peel, or zest (check this out) & not need that spice container from the grocery store aisle.

I'd always used one of these plastic gizmos, or, more recently in my not-bothering-to-keep-one-of-these-on-hand, just my fingers/fingertips has worked fine as well... And I would always peel the entire orange before I'd begin to consume it. I'd break it apart. Sometimes I'd have it in a dish. Sometimes I'd take it "on the go". Always after I'd peeled the entire thing.

Then I got into running these marathons. It didn't dawn on me at first. In fact, it took much longer than it likely should've. When I'd be grabbing along a marathon course for the orange slices, I'd be grabbing the fruit with it's portion of the peel still attached.

Most recently I noticed that a fellow runner did better than me when taking the fruit from a volunteer. He managed to catch his mouth along the edge of the fruit in such a way as to grab the whole of the fiber, & not just the juice & some/most of the pulp. This was impressive to me. I'd never considered being able to enjoy this totality of the orange.

And here I am the one peeling away all of the peel from the fruit all these many times & making a juicy, sticky mess of the whole thing...And if I weren't consuming it immediately, having it turn a little bit more messy since it'd be down to the juice & fiber of the fruit.

The way to go seems to definitely be just to take a knife to the whole orange, straight from its purchase, & cut it down as if it were a pizza. I mean, not to relate every other food to pizza...Just that pizza's get quartered, then "eighthed"; that's essentially what's happening in the cutting up of the whole orange...juice, fiber, peel...The whole thing.

Changing up to this way of managing an orange has been a life changer & saver since I began - just a few weeks ago. In doing so, I grab ahold of the tip top of the edge of the slice of orange & I'm able to grab the fiber & juice section away from the peel. Then I tear at it & pull it away; suddenly I've a slice of orange in my mouth & the juice is simply delicious! 😋

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The "Pots & Pans" Performance

Last Sunday I wrote about the Mother's Day gift I prepared for my mother this year & how our non-traditional celebration of the Day turned out well. We'd headed to the one of the many local theaters in our city.

I'd always taken to theater & worked with the stage performances throughout most of my college years. While working in town, & because of that, waiting on public transportation each afternoon & evening very nearby the larger theaters, I happened to see advertisements on a digital monitor (& therefore flashing its info at me 😏). Well, I was standing there, probably crocheting all the while, & this digital advertisement continued on for weeks, likely much longer.

So, yes, I became interested. In my defense, I believe I was interested regardless. This show was highlighted. A co-worker at the time ignorantly referred to it as the "Pots & Pans" show. I liked that co-worker for other reasons, so I managed to trudge on through rolling my eyes & shaking my head to myself. A friend was willing to see the show with me & called in for tickets. The show was SO good that this DVD showed up under the Christmas Tree for me by the time December rolled around again.

It's an unbelievable performance, as some might say of "nothing". No spoken words; lots of movement. A "workout" of expression. Pure beauty.


This Spring, about a month ago during the musical-performances-at-high-schools big season, I had the privilege of attending another show which I'd not yet seen. This happened, quite by chance, as many of the better things in life do... As when I managed to catch up with a friend over a too-long postponed lunch, she mentioned that her son, now as a freshman in high school, would be part of the cast of this show. I explained how I'd love to see it, was glad she mentioned it, & fully intended to attend. All I knew when we parted ways that day from our late lunch/early dinner was that the show's performances were scheduled for the week or so before I'd be heading out of state for my back-to-back marathons. I still, very much, wanted to go & intended to go to one of the performances.

I made sure that as the month grew longer I found out exactly which days the show would be & my friend explained when she thought her family would be attending in support. That part shifted a few times due to family illness & ultimately, I knew, I'd be best off to just attend on opening night - solo - or risk missing the show entirely.

One of my friend's last text messages to me, earlier in the school week, had been something like, "You don't have to go. It's not a problem if you don't make it." Obviously she'd not registered my high beams of excitement over getting to see the performance - especially as I'd never see the show (& therefore I was not as familiar with the storyline as I could've been).

When I texted her during intermission sharing that her son was doing a great job & how fun it is to see the school kids' talent & how those adult educators in charge manage to prepare the cast & crew & all of the their costumes.

She responded back that she didn't know I'd be there that night & that I should take pictures. This, as I was sitting down in my vehicle to leave the parking lot after the show finished. It had been a long show - & it had that intermission too. So I called her. She exclaimed about how I'd gone & she'd not known. We kindly discussed about how I'd mentioned my interest & that she'd just not realized I truly meant I wanted to see the production.

After all, she'd been ill & hadn't even been to work all that week. Other family members were having important surgeries & testing rescheduled. She was off the hook - a Very. Proud. Mama. that her boy had taken to her liking quite a bit. She's a fan of the theater too. Just like me. Another bit of progress in our friendship: Learning that we'd be able to make good companions for one another to visit the theater together. And she knows of another nearby theater with lower, fairer rates.

All of this because I made it a point to see it through & enjoy myself doing something that greatly interests me. 😍

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While Most Celebrated Mother's Day Last Sunday...

...Mom has now received her surprise Mother's Day gift, a non-tangible one, just yesterday. I even managed to coordinate with my brother. I checked with him to learn if he'd be with Mom on Mother's Day. That's when I learned that she & Dad planned to be in his hometown, with his family, which meant that, to gift her with an experience, rather than an item, it would need to be scheduled for a weekend other than Mother's. Day. Weekend.

And so it was.

I next called Dad to coordinate Mom's schedule & make sure that I didn't order our tickets for when the home team's baseball games would be scheduled as I knew, with Mom's love of "the game", she'd want to be sitting in front of her television screen to cheer them on. He worked with me on that, including explaining that it's football, & not baseball, where the tailgating really happens. So, I'd not have to deal the traffic oftentimes associated with the tailgaters.

Sometimes Mom & Dad go out of town & take a "day drive" to pick & gather fruit. I made sure to casually mention to Dad that he needed to help me out & make sure to not schedule such an adventure for them on this day.

So at one point I mentioned to her that her gift wouldn't be a tangible one & that it would be after Mother's Day, yet before the month of May ended. Then, last Tuesday, as it was just a few days prior, I called Mom up & explained that Saturday would be the day & to wear something she'd wear to church & at what time to be ready.

I'd picked a gift for Mom based on it being something I wanted to be doing; an event I wanted to attend. I had first thought to attend the event with a friend; I'd actually considered a few friends. It just wouldn't work out that way. Then, I figured, well, I need a gift for Mom for Mother's Day anyway - so I just as might as well. And so I did.

Mom had always expressed interest in theater. I knew she was a fan of this performance. And when I was in college I'd gotten involved with the theater department. I worked backstage & on the set - & sometimes certain aspects of crew were a part of the cast just as well. Mom & Dad had come to my school's performances of this, among others. When I explained to her about how our plans came to be, she reaffirmed that she had always enjoyed coming to my college for the theater performances once each semester; she was grateful to be my guest this time too.

I found myself providing "full disclosure" once we were finally walking into the lobby & in the thruway. Posters were around & our show's display sat on top so I found myself just pointing & showcasing saying, "This is what we're about to go see." She was excited.

Here's what we went to see. Here's an article on the Day "Throughout the Years".


So, for the mom who made her own mother a mom on Mother's Day (many, many years ago 😂) ... Mother's Day 2018 is officially "in the books"!

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A Finish Line Reward

Again, it's been one week...Though this time last week "it" was all over. I'd crossed the second finish line. Though not without a few interesting & exciting experiences first.

When I realized that posting anywhere close to last Sunday (like that night, Monday, or Tuesday, or even Wednesday) it made sense to post one week later respectively.

I'd gotten to sleep last Saturday night shortly after figuring out what time I needed to be awake in order to get to packet pick-up on time. That was the first time I'd ever needed to pick up my "packet" the same day as the event for which I'd registered.

I'd actually thought I'd be able to get to Saturday's packet pick-up right in the nick of time, then I realized time differences had my logistics as toast & I didn't have a chance. Once I finished driving from one state to the next (about three & a half hours later), I headed inside where I'd be sleeping for the night (another Airbnb house), showered, & prepared to figure out my early morning's logistics.

Just like Saturday morning, it would be important to wake & rise about two hours before I needed to leave, which was another forty-five or so minutes prior to the marathon's start time. Two hours because I needed to actually get up, including typical morning rituals like brushing my teeth & other bathroom necessities (although showering happened prior to sleeping). Then get my laptop geared up in so that I could play each warming up video. (This one first, then this one.) This was vital as I'd "religiously" utilized each of these videos daily (okay, once on the brink of marathon weekend there was about a week-long time period when daily was more like every-other-day, although the "on days" were the days I'd be training to run as I completely considered the videos to be my running "warm-up" so there's full disclosure on that) since weeks before I'd actually begun my actual running training (since I was still figuring out about this at that time.

With each video taking half an hour to complete, an hour would be gone. Then, factoring in changing my clothes & making certain that everything I'd need in order to arrive at the start line ready & "on time" was in place as much as it could be. On Sunday this wasn't as much as possible as it was on Saturday since part of this was safety pinning my running bib to my running skirt. Setting aside ample minutes to pack up the car & make certain each item I'd brought in the previous night had been taken back out of the house was a final reason for such an early wake up time.

Both mornings, as I'd managed to secure "local" Airbnb housing, I had a half hour drive to where I'd be parking for the day. The only difference on Sunday was that there was a shuttle leaving every fifteen minutes from a location a mile down the road since there wasn't sufficient location parking for participants. As I was participating in the challenge (running in both the Saturday & Sunday marathons) & I'd registered in a way that I won back my entry fee, I was asked to arrive early to be included in the respective photos commemorating these achievements.

Incidentally, as I'd been quite thrilled upon realizing that the Saturday marathon began at 7 a.m. & not 7:30 a.m. (because it meant a greater chance of arriving at Saturday packet pick-up for the Sunday marathon before their close up time - yes, we've already discussed this "fail" - as well as I'd be finishing the marathon a half hour earlier in the day since I began running it a half hour sooner, & with weather & sunshine "conditions", this could only be favorable. The latter "pro" did work out ultimately, unlike the former one. 😊

At the same time, however, I had also thought that the Sunday marathon began at 7:30 a.m. The photos had been taken by 7:25, & we were right. next. to. the. start. line. I'm still shaking my head. I hustled butt into that starting section. It was vacant. I felt a prank coming on. Fortunately for me, a volunteer stopped on by & explained about the [well posted 😂] 8 a.m. start. (When you drive nine hours to run a marathon, then drive another four hours to run another across that state's border the next morning...There's only so much that your brain can process & keep organized - even with well displayed & located signage... 😏)

Then I stupidly lined myself up in the 10K pacing section, which was set to begin about fifteen minutes after the start for the marathon & half marathon. Yes, that's right; I was on a roll for not setting myself up very well last Sunday morning. With ten minutes till the National Anthem, I figured it all out & got myself into the actual correct place for where I belonged. 😎 As there were only pacers for five hours & the six & a half hour cut-off, I stood nearby that very clogged section.

Unlike the marathon on Saturday, where the half marathon didn't cut away from the marathon until the 12.9 mile mark, the half marathon on Sunday cut away around the seven mile mark.

I got extremely lucky & it was completely happenchance. When I turned left along with the other marathon participants (as the half marathoners proceeded on forward), about a half dozen of us marathoners who'd opted to participate in both the Saturday, as well as the Sunday marathon, were all together. A few of them were purposefully running together. I realized (& potentially helped some of them realize) that we were all of a kind when I openly asked if we'd be seeing the half marathoners again before we finished. I explained that, being from out-of-state & getting multiple emails from both marathons, it was too much to keep straight. A Marathon Maniac was among our group & knew the answer: We'd see them again, though it would be in passing, as in they'd be running in the opposite direction. Nice.

And so I dropped back from my, maybe ten paces lead, to just in front of this line-up of two-in-one-weekend marathoners. A small conversation among us led our group for at least a mile. Then the Maniac dropped back to join another runner or two. I did well to pace with several from that original break-away group until I just. couldn't. handle. it. anymore. I kept to a reasonable & rewarding pace for miles beyond a plausible expectation (had I had one) & kept to that concept of staying with whichever runners were nearest me as long as I could maintain their pace.

I believe there were two colleges that we ran through or around. The first one was a short section, although it began with a hill that knocked me back a little bit more than I'd have preferred. The second one was more memorable as it lasted longer (probably at least a mile) & I paced right behind a female runner & right in front of a male runner. A few runners caught up to our trio & passed us while on that campus & a few runners were also passed by us on that campus.

The biggest non-running related bummer of that portion of the marathon was that, at the water station immediately preceding the entry onto that campus I heard a snippet of a song. I believed it was Frank Sinatra or Perry Como, though it's likely to have been one of their contemporaries. The line of the song & lyrics in general sang clean & of innocent beauty. These words - this tune is what stayed with me the most while along the streets of that university's campus. I thought for certain I'd remember those key words that ran through my mind for those many minutes (as I didn't have my phone with me to run my well-used Sound Hound app back at that entrance water station) after I completed the marathon in so that I could record, or properly note what song it was; that didn't happen.

This is the song that I heard next as I rounded a bend into a generous cheering section, of which there were many. This bend came shortly after I received a dandelion necklace from a couple of young girls, likely five & six years old or so. I'd given each of them a high-five. (I love giving out high-fives along running courses just about as much as I love the color blue; it gives me such a thrill.) Their brother was standing there alongside them too, as well as their mother, who thanked me by name (as it was printed on my bib number) for stopping up enough to hand out their high-fives. I made sure to pause enough to kindly & specifically ask the brother, "Where's yours?" as, unlike the girls, he didn't actually have his hand up as I naturally passed; though he did offer it once I inquired.

I'd given them their high-fives just before running up one of those hills that looks like a high at its base. Then, as soon as the pedestrian is a few strides in, there's not really a hill, rather more an optical illusion, & the hill's been crested. This was also just before running around that campus where I'd picked up the mystery tune in my ear. It was after I'd headed back down the hill that the little girls called to me from their side of the street (the opposite side now) holding out their handmade necklace. I put it on immediately as their wasn't much else I could do with it. I was impressed with its sturdiness; it didn't crumble or tear at all. And it fit over the brim of my ball cap that I wore to shield the sun from my fair-skinned face & top of my head. The girls cheered. That made it all the better.

Ironically, as I finished that hill a few houses further down that residential road & rounded the course's bend, a mother stood at the edge of her driveway more watching her rambunctious toddler son a bit further back in her driveway. As I quickly thanked her for coming out to cheer us she turned toward me &, very sincerely, admired my dandelion necklace. As I was already a pace or two beyond her, & the necklace wasn't in a position to be simply unwrapped back off my neckline & back over my ball cap, I couldn't just hand it off to her (though I'd have liked to since I could earnestly hear in her voice of her interest in it & I certainly didn't need the necklace). Rather, all I could do was quickly explain that it was a few neighbor girls of hers from right up the road & that, should she walk the course backwards a bit & see them at their curb's edge, they'd surely make her a necklace as well. I don't think this woman was in a position to attempt this as I could hear in her sigh enough of an emotional crumble.

The "bacon station" came around the corner next. The section was awkward because, as I approached it, the five hour pacer & his "contingency" passed me. The cheering entourage just prior to those handing out bacon had this song blaring from the speakers. So, there I was, about to be passed by a dozen plus runners (because I wasn't maintaining a five hour pace, though I did try for a bit) & I all I could concentrate on, at least for a solid ten seconds, 😂 was not bothering to jump up in the air when they sang "Shout!" as I would if I were on a dance floor. 😏 This same cheering contingency knew the five hour pacer, who sort of jumped around & celebrated along to the song. And there was only so much space in this stretch of roadway for everyone. Fortunately, we all got through efficiently enough & continued onward.

The "bacon station" came around the corner next. According to the marathon's website, the station is at the halfway point. This makes sense since the young girls handed me my dandelion necklace at about Mile 11. So, as I managed my way alongside these "five hour" runners, I decided to grab for a piece of bacon. After all, I was hungry too. As always, I had my Camelbak on my backside, so, even with having eaten this chewy, sugary, salty slice of bacon, I was able to wash it down by drinking more water from my Camelbak. Then came the little girl sitting on the curbside with her family in the driveway. She sat with a metal mixing bowl in her lap. The bowl contained orange slices.

I told that little girl I loved her as I scooped out an orange slice, which happened to fall right down to the pavement less than a foot below. As I snatched it back up I said, "I'll still eat it." As, while I continued running along, I shook off what dirt I could & then shoved the thin slice in my mouth, ripping the peel away from the fibers. It served as a great follow-up to the slice of bacon.

I noticed a few of the nearby runners fumbling through plastic bags. Eager to eat a little bit more, though knowing that these bags contained industrialized, processed products, & not real running energy, I perked up after a few paces more upon noticing a gentleman holding something out which resembled a quarter of an orange. Sweet. (Both literally & figuratively!) As I wore my prescription sunglasses, a very old prescription at that, & I naturally cannot see too far away, I called out to the man, "Is that fruit?" He stumbled for a moment & then quickly acknowledged that, yes, indeed, it was fruit. I eagerly & excitedly exclaimed as I reached to snatch it from his outstretched hand, "I'll totally eat that!" "I can't see far away." I added to explain why I questioned him as I had.

I felt empowered. That was a lot of orange I now got to enjoy. And I was well beyond the halfway point of the marathon as all of these snacks encompassed at least a mile or so of [cheering] terrain.

As much as I'd taken a concrete moment to focus, during my starting strides of the marathon, to not necessarily consider having, just the previous day, also run 26.2 miles, & instead to stay with those runners immediately in front of me as best as I could, for as absolutely long as I could, it was at this point, around Mile 17 when I next considered my pending feat. And I managed to drop it & let it go just as quickly realizing that I had no pain. And, unless I considered it, which I didn't, I wasn't even aware that I'd run an entire marathon the previous day; I didn't feel as if I had. So...I cleared my head & just. kept. running. After all, at this point along the course, I concretely had less than ten miles left to run in order to complete my "weekend task" of running 52.4 miles.

At the next bend in the course a stereo turned over to its next tune, Prince singing this song. All I got to enjoy while a volunteer raised her cow bell & smiled enthusiastically to me while shaking it while others nearby cheered likewise, was, "I was dreamin' when I wrote this; Forgive me if it goes astray..."

Also all along these miles a volunteer would be on or next to his bicycle. It was funny at first since I'd not see him pedal away or show up at his next spot. At first I commented to him, "It's de ja vu." I also readily noticed his presence as he closely resembled a friend of mine, all the way down to his wide smile. And that friend was one who knew I was out there running these back-to-back marathons, so it was kind of a fun "double" to have. As the mileage got down to the wire, this pedaling volunteer showed up more & more. And I would see him pedal into position a time or two, so his original "ghostliness" subsided.

I'd heard much about the few "intense" hills along the course. The first were those I encountered at the point where I'd met those girls who eagerly handed me my dandelion necklace (which, at this point along the course, I still wore). The other hill was one that was said to end with popsicles; they called it "Popsicle Hill". I was to learn these were what had been known as "hug sticks" in my younger years. Around Mile 16 or Mile 17 I'd inquired with the bicycling volunteer on where to anticipate this final hill. He quickly guessed & shared what he could. Then he checked up with accurate sources & caught up with me a mile or so later. I'd finish running through the local park where we were & then run through another park. It would be shortly after that park where I'd encounter this infamous hill.

When I eventually noticed a hill, that appeared to last for about five or six residences, I inquired with a few locals standing off to the side cheering us along, if this was "the hill". The response I received was that it was the hill & it ended at the next cross street. It had begun at the library. I had seen a library sign (the typical, universal one, blue background, side view of a person holding a book in white) a bit back, just prior to a water station - where I did have my Camelbak filled for a second time. However, I'd not noticed the section of mileage to be a hill, gradual or not. Apparently it was. And so yes, I crested "Popsicle Hill" grateful to know that I'd well achieved those hills which the marathon committee deemed as such. Volunteers got into place with the hug stick popsicles. I called out for the cherry flavor. They weren't sure if the red was cherry; I assured them that whatever the red flavor was would suit me just fine. At that point a volunteer on the other side of the road offered me a second hug stick. I eagerly accepted. And, just as when I'd received that fruit which I couldn't see from a distance miles prior & there'd been a particular drop box for the orange's remaining peel, at just the right distance up ahead a sole volunteer prepared opening up a simple thirteen gallon trash bag as each of us runners finished off our hug stick & approached him; he'd hold open the bag as if he were a kid at a neighbor's front door on Halloween. My confidence was high enough that I told him about how, as long as I kept to my current pace, I'd PR. He listened & nodded. And off I continued with less than four miles to go.

I held nothing back. I had some squeamish feeling in a few of my toes. I pushed back against that negativity. The weather was wonderful & all that I'd backed off because of bodily concern & weather conditions the day before no longer existed. Course cameras appeared. They must have been dedicated to the half marathoners before & then moved along to the end of the marathon course. This was the last point where I passed by a stereo with an audible song erupting from its speakers. Taylor Swift sang this song.

Although the last stretch before turning into the finish was alongside a highway, next up was a short residential section. We'd already passed by the Mile 25 marker, which, as soon as a passerby considers it, 0.2 miles has been completed, which means that only one mile remains. It was during these strides that we passed by houses, which is likely where two little boys, about five and eight years old, must have lived. They kept on the street riding their own bicycles even though right there on the course I ran & so did a young woman at least ten years my junior. She was a stride or so in front of me & immediately behind the second boys' back bicycle tire. My maternal instinct kicked in & I called out, "Kid, watch!" He did pedal a bit to the side. She moved a bit to the other side, away, too. She & I ran somewhat alongside one another as we passed by a house or two. I quickly apologized explaining that I realized she could get herself out of the way too. She smiled a bit, with some remaining energy & said, "It's okay."

I happened to speed up a bit upon hearing some great inaudible music up ahead where we were to meet back up to the highway. I figured we must be down to just about a half mile remaining. Another course camera appeared back in the middle of the street from the sideline. I received many cheers as I rounded onto the highway.

I immediately felt the young woman nearby. She leaned in, though she didn't touch me. She simply encouraged me saying, "Come on." while smiling. We both went for it. There was one police maintained intersection which remained. She slowed up, walking again, instantly.

This time I ran over to her, briefly placing my palm on her backside & said, "Come on! Let's go! I'm gonna PR!" She took off & I've not seen her since. That's glorification.

I rounded the final bend & realized there was approximately 100 meters left. That's due to my track & field days. It was a comparable 100 meter dash. I also was able to make out the clock's time. As much as I like doing things in 5s, I prefer not to do anything with 6s. I also knew that my chip time & the clock weren't that far off of one another. And another thing I've learned over the years: If you can read the time clock, it's still gonna take approximately half a minute to pass underneath it. And so it was.

I knew if I could pull out my sprint, even though the clock read something about a minute under my PR, I could beat that time (a time which included a six 😞). There were two female runners also running for the finish line's timing mat. They were likely able to hear me cry out, "I don't want to see the six!" And I crossed that finish line, full sprint on, before the clock's minute rolled over. Yeeessssss!

Immediately I remembered to turn off my wrist time tracker, this one, the same one which I've previously noted. It's still doing very well for me. Another runner who'd already finished, & I believe both of the weekend's marathons at that, presented me with both my finisher's medal & the additional one I was awarded for also having finished both of the weekend's marathons. She further asked me where "my people" were. I simply responded, "I am my people." She quickly ushered her daughter into position to take post finish line photos of me & text them my way as my phone sat a few booths away at bag check.

Although finishing up later in the day has its downfalls (the chicken booth had "sold out" & already closed up), there were ample orange slices & apples. There were also ample bottles of chilled chocolate milk atop the table. A recycling compartment sat next to a compost receptacle. I was in high Heaven.

Enroute to this second marathon from the first one the previous evening I'd found myself craving this. I've not had chocolate almond milk in about seven or eight years & suddenly this massive craving. I spent much of the drive (since I'd no one to talk to or call between 5 & 7 p.m. on a Saturday evening) considering the logistics of finding a store in a town where I'd not been before to local said half gallon of milk & how, if I did attain this half gallon, I'd adjust the contents of my cooler in so that the milk could keep & so could the remainder of my uneaten perishables. The closer I got to my destination, not only was I simply worn out (& also realizing with the location's time difference, same day packet pick-up wasn't going to happen), I knew I'd be losing sleep (which I'd already lost more than I liked the previous night) trying to track down this craving. So I didn't.

As I worked on the research or the same-day packet pick-up, I read that there'd be chocolate milk at the finish. This warmed my heart & added to my answered prayers. All I'd need to do was make it to the finish line & indulge. And that I did do. As runners continued to pass under the final time clock I continued to drink chocolate milk. Some say this can be dangerous. Apparently between my craving & my dehydration, my body processed it fine; I felt nothing negative from the reward.

Another reward I enjoyed was noticing a young man, likely post baccalaureate age, approaching the snack table with a few folks. I recognized him as a runner who I'd paced with for a few highway miles somewhere between Mile 17 & Mile 21. He was another runner, who, had I not focused on staying relatively steady alongside, I'd not have succeeded as I had. He'd run a bit, then drop back to a walk. This is why we worked well [unofficially] together. He encouraged me to keep up to what he was achieving; I was encouraging him to keep at running & not linger back so much.

When I noticed him at the finish I inquired checking that he'd not just finished. As I thought he'd passed me once & for all, all of those miles back. His mother was one of the people with him & she confirmed that no, he'd already finished & had just come back out to encourage her over the finish line. So I quickly shared with him of my PR & that I felt he should know as he'd had a small something to do with my having achieved it. He smiled & nodded slightly as only a young man of that age could & understanding of my compliment.

Another finisher who passed on through while I downed a few 16 ounce containers of chocolate milk, a female runner likely a few years my senior, who couldn't get her phone's camera app to comply. I volunteered mine as I'd visited bag check at this point. Also, even though I had those few photos the earlier runner's daughter had texted to me, I wished for one or two taken directly with my camera phone. And so this recent finisher & I worked together to take photos of each other with the finisher's banner above our heads & without the time clock which was above the banner, as well as angling so as not to have the sun's beams directly behind us, interrupting the image; we did well.

I'd been encouraged to check out the chicken tent booth & went to do so. Despite the negative news of its unavailability, I instead had the pleasure of being stopped by a male volunteer who found my two-marathons-in-one-weekend accomplishment to be 'out of this world' quite remarkable. It was a lovely conversation where I explained that I'd properly trained & focused as necessary. I also explained how I'd not really felt it all that day throughout the second marathon that I'd actually completed another one the prior day. He was still, generally speaking, very much quite impressed; I did not disregard this & I fully recognized that, had I not walked over to where the chicken would've been served from, this gentleman wouldn't have noticed me to approach me & tell me as such. God is good.

And, as I should've, a few apples & bottles of chocolate milk were added to that bag I'd retrieved from the bag check booth before I left the premises.

With all of this under my belt for that day, & therefore too, last weekend, it simply wasn't possible to digest & reflect upon all of it last Sunday evening. I had another Airbnb house to check into & sleep to be had. Monday morning would present what now seemed as a quite short car ride back (at five & a half hours) to where I call my hometown & where I'd need to be dropping off the rental car without accruing an extra days fee before 6 p.m.

And that I did too.

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It's Been One Week

It was at this time, one week ago, that I had crossed one finish line completing 26.2 miles, equaling a marathon. I'd only had one glitch occur, & that had been with accessing my Friday night housing. I did myself proud & kept prudent during that time period by looking for each item in the car that I knew I needed to take inside with me. By that time, I was getting inside, though, in all technicality, I had lost roughly one hour of sleep.

There wasn't any time to consider that an hour of sleep had potentially been lost. I showered quickly & set myself up for my [very] early Saturday morning. The biggest perk was that, even though last Saturday's marathon start time was set for 7 a.m., it was set for 7 a.m. This meant that, despite the likelihood that I'd be crossing the finish line pretty far into the day, it would be a little bit earlier with the start time being a little bit earlier.

And, all being said I was able to get to that start line just as I was supposed to. I wore comfortable running attire &, as the temperature was to soar as well as the humidity level, I took off the long-sleeve t-shirt I wore overtop my layered tank tops while standing at the start line, just minutes before the starting gun went off. I tied it around my waist; all was good. Also, I had my Camelbak strapped in place; all was definitely good.

Journey (this song) pumped through the speakers at the start line, both before & after the National Anthem. I also heard this song from the Eurythmics early on, around Mile 6. Because there was a spot where the marathon course crossed over three times, a DJ was there encouraging us individually. At my first passing through the DJ played this song (ironically?) & because I get a thrill out of high-fiving (well, anybody) along a running course, I gladly ran up to the DJ & slapped a strong high-five before continuing on. The DJ commented, "Well, she's pumped." The final time I passed by the DJ this song played. Incidentally, I was able to make a mental note of it because I wasn't as familiar with it, yet the song's title is the bit I heard as I passed by. I danced my way passed the DJ's area - to which the DJ responded, "I needed a dance partner."

The biggest detriment to this marathon was unforeseen gravel as our terrain for Miles 18 through 23. This was added to our constantly dehydrated bodies due to the exhaustive weather conditions. (To which I constantly said, "Mind over matter; mind over matter." And remained super chirper.) Finding solid traction was defeating; knowing that the end was near was rewarding.

A volunteer on a bicycle kindly conversed with me for miles 23 through 26 (then wished me well & said, "Nice chatting with you" while pedaling opposite the direction of the finish time mat). Even though my finish time not only wasn't a PR, it also was a few minutes over the hour (although it was quite a bit under the marathon's cap finish time, which was very good 😂). My time would've been even a few more minutes longer since I noticed my mileage time both before & after the volunteer came up alongside me.

After getting my customary "finisher's photo" on my smartphone, eating a couple of bratwurst, & grabbing one for the road, I began my on-road-adventure across the state's line to gear up for Sunday.

Woot! Woot!

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