February was a fabulous month to run. I know I write about running too often for some of you and I remind you: I run. I am a marathoner and there are entirely too many fun things that happen with my travels to a race, incidents on the course, and just the whole running spectrum not to recount the details.
I was registered to run three races in two days at the end of February. I was running the Gasparilla Distance Classic: runnning at it's finest. I figured running 26 miles in two days would allow me a good temperature check on my ability to run a marathon in October. So, off to Tampa I headed for the Gasparilla race weekend. I was running a 15k (9miles) and a 5k (3miles) back to back on the Saturday the 27th, and a half marathon (13.1 miles) on Sunday the 28th.
For those not familiar with Gasparilla, follow this link to learn of Jose Gaspar and the festivities that celebrate his history: http://www.josegaspar.net/index2.htm
Several things made this series of races special. To start: three medallions, yes a bling trifecta, my niece Jackie and her boyfriend JR were coming to root me to the finish on Saturday, and Saturday night, EW was coming to Tampa to root me on on Sunday. What a fabulous weekend. I was going to experience all the things I love: marathoning, my family and Tampa, and EW. Another trifecta!
So, I was up early on Friday the 26th to catch my crack-o-dawn flight to Tampa. Imagine my glee when I saw Greta VanSustern on my flight. I have traveled on many flights with Greta and her husband because they have a home in Clearwater, Florida and we seem to book together often. Imagine my next pleasant surprise when I sat in the emergency exit seat and Greta was seated behind me. Hmmm…no first class for you? I spoke a friendly greeting and sat down to dream of my SWEET weekend. Alas, no napping for this runner girl. Nope, the two gents next to Greta bent her ear the entire flight. They were complimentary and big fans (Mr. Military Guy in the BDU’s, thanks for your service). Greta was very accommodating from the snippets of conversation I heard and I gather several snaps were captured on cell phones.
I know that Greta is a Scientologist. YES, it IS true. So I figure she and the husbando were headed back to their place in Clearwater to reboot. For those of you not in the know…Clearwater, Florida is the Mecca of Scientology. Fer real! Google it…I’m the Widow of all things trivia!
I finally managed to nod off and when I awoke I was in the Land of Oz: Tampa, warm weather, palm trees, beaches and sun, my glorious sun! Luggage and a rental car later I was headed to the race expo in downtown Tampa. I couldn’t wait to get from there to my house to see the family and I couldn’t wait to get up and run on Saturday.
I was laughing with the family that PS, the race director for the Cherry Blossom 10-Miler is the race announcer for the Gasparilla series. I think he is a bit sore at me because I accidentally outed his new shoe sponsorship for the Cherry Blossom 10-miler at the Marine Corp Marathon. He was saving the news for a big announcement. Um, how did I know? Not like he said to sit on it. So, the joke was whether or not I’d get a shout-out as I crossed the finish line. As is the norm in many races, racers are announced as they run to the finish line. Name, home city and state…things announcer’s do to fill the blank air and keep the spectators engaged. Since I was running two races on Saturday, I’d bet I’d get no shout out because he’d be to angry and would sputter my name never quite being able to spit it out in his anger over the sponsorship issue.
Saturday morning was just another race morning: up before the dawn, dressed and off to the start village. I was excited to know that Jackie and JR were coming to the race. I run solo so often, without a Team Sideline, that it made my day to know they would be there. Saturday morning the race started at 7:00 am and upon the finish of the 15k, I would get back into another start corral to run the 5k. Saturday was starting off to be a hot race. We raced under yellow flag conditions, which simply means: heat advisory. Heat advisory…lots of fluids, don’t push it, run healthy and smart, and be aware of heat stroke conditions. I suppose you get the picture.
I love the 15k down Bay Shore Boulevard next to Tampa Bay. It is a beautiful race through multi-million dollar homes facing beautiful Tampa Bay. As with most races, I run into folks I know. So, there he was James Spoo who I’d run with in New Orleans. He too was running the ultra, the trifecta. We chatted a bit and as the race moved on and we eventually lost sight of each other. I was headed towards the split and all of the sudden the super heroes passed me by. There running in tandem were Superman, Wonder-Woman, The Incredible Hulk and The Green Hornet. It was a hot, hot morning and I commented to a fellow runner that those costumes had to be taking their toll and we commented how much we enjoy seeing folks that dress for a race, like the Pirate dead ahead of us.
We too outpaced each other and I was enjoying the view of the bay on the back half when I ran upon a most horrific sight. A gentleman approximately my age was prone on the ground and Wonder-Woman was performing CPR along with a race medic. She had a good command of the situation and there was nothing any of us could do but pray for his health, heed the heat advisory and count our blessings. I run often enough to see many injured runners, but this was a first. The gent had had a heart attack and hit the street face first. I did not know at the time, but Wonder-Woman is a doctor and saw it happen and was able to begin CPR immediately. The newspaper reported that he was recovering at the local hospital and I hope he continues to mend.
I was crying for the man and sickened that his day running had to have ended in such a fashion. I counted my blessings for my health and slowed my pace just a bit. After all, I was going to finish and I didn’t need to shave time off my run to the detriment of my health. As, I ran I saw the other three super-heroes waiting for their fourth. I shouted out a few words of praise for Wonder Woman and continued my run.
I was rounding the course at mile eight and could see the crowd thicken as we approached the finisher’s chute. I figured Jackie and JR were up ahead. As I started into the gated chute, I began to scan the crowd for the two of them and I saw JR in a bright yellow shirt in the bleachers. He caught my eye and then the true fun began. He and Jackie unfurled two posters, no nothing like “We Love You Aunt Judi”. Ha, that would have been to cliché. The first was DWF, yup the Diva Widow Fike and the second was, Run Mike Hunt. I started to laugh and scream at the same time. Those were the two best signs I could have imagined, and then it happened, PS was hollering finisher’s names and he sputtered at the top of his lungs, “JUDITH”. Ha, no state, no last name…I got a shout out! I suppose I’m forgiven for the sponsorship debacle.
I suppose I need to digress a bit and explain Mike Hunt. We all know the funny phone calls one can place asking for Seymour Hiney and Ivanna Tinkle. Well, call us childish: ok…CHILDISH. We reverted to junior high school childishness at my nieces wedding in December and called the bride’s room relentlessly asking for Michael Hunt: Mike Hunt. The mere mention of his name leaves us all in stitches and it is a joke that has not faded away. We consider him out favorite cousin. I’ll leave the rest of the jokes to you the reader.
I finished the race, hugged Jackie and JR, and turned around to run the 5k. Jackie said she had been worried because I’d not posted one single update or photo to Face Book for the entire 15k. I laughed and said there was nothing worth taking a photo of. I was happy that my crazy posts while running are a signal to my family and friends that I am surviving my marathons. So, I will continue the tradition!
I was laughing just as hard at the end of the 5k when I saw the same two signs again and insisted we snap a shot for the blog. Childish yes…funny as hell…definitely. And, with 26,000 runners in the 5k, there was no way I was getting a second shout out from PS.
Yes, the 5k had 26,000 runners. There were moms and dads with small children, walkers, and walkers with strollers. Holy cluster…what a nightmare. There was no way to ramp up any speed; there were too many folks on the course. For those of us trying to complete the weekend ultra challenge, the biggest challenge was getting through the 5k. Moms and dads were encouraging their children to run like the wind, only to have them trip over untied laces, trip over basketball shoes and siblings. I was done. I was pacing with a friend from Virginia and we agreed it was easier to walk it in than to get tripped by a 5-year old darting between our legs.
So, there I was at the finish again and the signs DWF and Run Mike Hunt were again prominently displayed. I met the kids at the food chute and it was so compacted with the 26,000 runners that I bolted over the gates and we headed back to our side of town agreeing to meet at a local eatery for lunch.
I was riding high knowing that I was picking EW up at the airport. It was a special weekend. My half-marathon on Sunday would be the first time EW has attended one of my races. I had some time to shower and unwind before heading back across town to the airport. I snagged EW and off we headed to my sister’s for a pasta dinner and the very fun family card game of Tripoly. Tripoly for anyone who has never played with us is trial by fire. First, it is an idiot simple game. We love it because we bust each other’s backside all night and there are so many running jokes in the family that the best part is the snipes we take at each other. Mike Hunt always plays a hand or two.
Let me say that EW is a very intelligent individual but poor EW, we run through the hands of the game so quickly we ran over him a few times. My niece Michelle informed EW that this was the only time any leniency would be provided and the next time EW played with the family he would be subjected to the “no mercy rules”. Ah, we are some cutthroat players when 9 pennies are involved! I believe we got beat out of a few dollars and tossed in the towel so I could get a good night’s sleep before the Sunday run. Ah, the Sunday run. Now that is where the real fun began.
Stay tuned for the race that was, or wasn’t.
The Diva Widow Fike
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