Some good, some bad

The good:
Looks like my toenail isn't going to leave me anytime soon. It's half black and very nasty looking (i think I'll post a picture).

Just got back from a week in Puerto Vallarta, very relaxing.

Got new shoes, same kind but without the nasty funk, and with all that new shoe cushioning.

The bad:
My watch broke at the finish line. Popped right off my wrist and smashed into the pavement destroying it. So no lap times for me.

Have not run in more than two weeks.

The 2007 Chicago Marathon

The results - I managed to finish in 5:14, it was no PR, it was not even a good race. Yes I finished, but I am pissed. I am furious at race director Carey Pinkowski. He bears the ultimate responsibility for the absolute debacle that affected thousands upon thousands of runners.

The reason - You may not understand why someone would choose to run a marathon. True, no one forces us to run. But that isn’t what this is about. We do choose to run, but we choose races that are professionally managed so that they are able to provide us with the necessary resources to run. It’s a pretty basic agreement. I pay the entrance fee, and the race provides water and Gatorade at the aide stations specified on the course map. It’s that simple. If I wanted to run without concern for my own health, I would run 26.2 miles around the city, dodging traffic and finding water wherever I could. But I do have concerns for my safety, which is why I pay my entrance fee for someone else to accept the responsibility of keeping me safe and providing me basic supplies. Mr. Pinkowski failed me on October 7th.

The parallel - If you still can’t get past the idea that we, as runners, choose to take on this daunting task and that we should have known better and simply stayed home rather than try to run and get pissed at the race director, then consider this parallel. Anyone who likes music would be pissed to buy tickets to a concert only to show up and find out that there aren’t any speakers and that those in the back will just have to deal with hearing only the occasional chord. That is exactly how it was to run to the aide stations with empty, or overturned, water tables. Sorry, we can't give you what you need and what you'd be reasonable to expect.

The conditions – It was hot out, no doubt. It was no surprise that it was going to be hot that day. The Marathon organizers knew it would be hot, an e-mail was sent to registered participants warning of the expected heat. Knowing this, they should have been fully prepared for exponentially more water usage than normal. They were not, despite their declarations to the contrary. The issue wasn’t just the heat. It was the heat coupled with the inability of the race volunteers to provide enough water and Gatorade. They may not have even had enough water on hand, who knows? If they actually had enough water on hand, then they failed miserably at providing it to the runners. Either way, the Marathon failed runners by not providing adequate water and/or Gatorade.

The spectators - The heat was tolerable with enough water. I managed to take in just enough. I never felt like I was in really good shape, nor did I feel the effects of the heat beyond what I could tolerate. The only way I managed to tolerate it as well as I did was the spectators. I drank from 3 garden hoses and one spigot in the side of a house. I ran through every open fire hydrant (I’d guess about 4 or 5), and I took ice when it was offered on the last half of the course. The spectators saved many runners that day.

The criticism - What I don’t understand is that Mr. Pinkowksi is claiming to have made a tough, but wise, decision by canceling the race. I don’t believe he would have had to make that choice if he could have supplied adequate water and Gatorade to all the runners.

The play by play - The first aide station I reached was out of water, but they had Gatorade concentrate, which they were giving out with a warning to mix with water. No water was available. The second aide station appeared to be out as well. They handed out empty cups and told runners there was water down the way. You could easily see where they intended us to go, by looking at the clumps of hot and thirsty runners. At the center of each clump was a volunteer with a water jug, frantically pouring into whatever receptacle was placed underneath. With cup in hand, I stood there among the hot, sweaty, thirsty runners…begging for water. Yes, actually begging. I got a half a cup to drink. No extra water to splash on my head and cool myself down with. Oh well maybe at the next station. Rounding the corner to the third aide station, I spotted a line of porta pottys. Business done and cleaned up, I grab a Gu and down it, figuring I’ll get water to wash it down momentarily. I was wrong. No water. Just Gatorade concentrate, but again no water. A mile or two later there’s a spectator with a garden hose, amen! I finally get the water I was supposed to take with my Gu. Miles pass, with similar aide station experiences. Trust me it got redundant to experience it, and it'd be redundant to recall it here. In the meantime I become very good at spotting alternative water sources such as garden hoses. I never got as desperate as the folks who drank out of the fountain at Lincoln Park Conservatory or the little reflecting fountains at various high rise hotels. I keep running, knowing that today will be no personal record.

The announcement – Around mile 16 I start to pass many more walkers. I figure people are slowing down because of the heat. Not so. Shortly after noticing all the walkers that I am passing I hear vague rumblings that the race was cancelled. Nothing specific, just some random bits of conversation from people I am passing. Then I hear it loud and clear. Over a police cruiser loudspeaker I hear someone say that the race was cancelled due to the heat, and that we are supposed to stop running and walk to the finish line. What the hell? How do you tell someone who trained for at least 4 months, and to whom you did not provide adequate support (see “the reason” above) to simply stop and walk back? Maybe, just maybe, if I had received the support I had paid for, and expected, I wouldn’t be pissed. But I didn’t, and so I am.

The verdict – Despite living in, and loving, Chicago I do not plan to register for another Chicago Marathon. Not unless there are significant changes. Perhaps Mr. Pinkowski needs to resign. A new race director should then limit the field to a smaller group, adjust the starting time as needed, and prepare to adequately supply water and Gatorade to all the runners. Then I’ll consider another attempt at what is supposed to be a Chicago institution.

The end.

it's almost time

bad things happened Sept 16th at the 20 miler. I am fine but a bad four letter word was spotted at mile 16. needless to say I haven't had much to say since.

ran lots. missed some days. still running.

Sunday is the marathon. I mention this now because it's just dawning on me at this point. in 5 days I plan to finish 26.2 miles.
up next, really next: 4 miles tonight