Thoughts from the Half-Marathon

Well it is over, we ran the Hess Cancer Foundation's Half Marathon on Legacy Parkway on August 29, 2009, and here is what crossed my mind for the two hours and one minute of it:

1. It took me 39 seconds just to cross the starting line, I wonder if it will be as crowded when its the finish line.
   
2. Man I'm passing heaps of people, but wait, who is that old woman/man climbing over the fence up ahead and joining the race ahead of me at 1.5 miles?
3. "Do your ears hang low?" only a few miles in and these earbuds seem to be pulling down.
4. Do they do knee replacements at the little booths along the way?
5. Halfway already? Does a half-half-marathon count for anything?
6. Whoooah! Easy on the wide U-turn at halfway, there was a wave of bikers coming hard!
   
7. If I were a girl I would get 3rd place right now... if she didn't just pass me, and her, and her, and another one... I think I'm in 7th place for girls.
   
8. Can they just average my score with all the people I said "nice pace" to as they cruised pass me?
9. Why are those natural sundials, the sunflowers, already turned 180 degrees?
10. I must have been cruising for the first half, 'cause I sure didn't smell that earlier.
    
11. Pumas sure are cute, but why didn't anybody ever tell me they aren't really for running?
12. Holy moly, this old ipod is a brick.
13. I swore to myself I would run the entire way, but does this count for running?
14. Honestly, if one more person passes me.
15. Shade! I better keep moving, I'm a turkey out here on the blacktop.
    
16. Breathe.
17. Oh, ya, about the place I am in for girls, who knows.
18. I can't even lift my arm for the thumbs-up for people passing me, much less mumble "nice pace" to them anymore. Perhaps all that long-windedness has caught up with me.
    
19. Follow the white line.
20. Try to shift my body weight to the left for high fives for the little family on the side.
    
21. No gatorade?
22. The finish line is getting further away.
23. My wife is coming up behind me, I just need to cross it.
24. This is so painful, don't every do it again. I'm just punishing my body in this heat.
    
25. Every time I look back the finish line gets further away.
26. This song says "Tell me how you feel in five words or less," FULL-BODY ACUPUNCTURE BY HORNETS.
27. Lose the ipod, the music has lost its motivational power.
28. I'm glad the Channel 2 News helicopter is capturing this.
29. Somebody called my name, did my wife pass me? Oh it's my mother-in-law, try to wave. Oh ya, and smile. Will myself forward across that line. (She said afterward that she didn't recognize me and I looked distraught. Ya, just a little.)
    
30. Chant to myself and see if it carries me.
    
31. It's right there.
32. Woah, I crossed it. Really, is it legal to stop? Gatorade. Bathroom, stay standing... Whoah, don't drop the ipod and medal down the portapotty. Use the wall for support. Blur. Mother-in-law wants to chat, wife still coming. Point back. Creamie, bread, water, gatorade, creamie, shade, sit, get the shoes off, creamie, water.

Anyway, that is it, more or less, exactly how I remember it.  Here is the photo of my final condition:

10-Mile Launch

Oi. It's Yorudan here. When the internet was a newborn I created the site "hortons puncy bananas." It has been through many phases, and now I see the blessings of keeping with the short names online, and hereby name this web log "Yorudan." I plan to keep things here as true to my heart as they can be, sticking to that original style. I am about to head out on a 10 mile run, my furthest to date. I carry one heavy ipod since my shuffle was kiefed by a dude upstairs. This ipod was given me as collateral to hold a selling price on my motorcycle to a Japanese boy who crashed it and then didn't end up buying it. The bike has been lost on its way from Alabama to Utah, somewhere in Seattle. Cross your fingers.

I'll give you a feel for the 10-mile soundtrack, going 3 songs to the mile.