Tag Archives: OBSE

JUST One Mile LEFT

us marathon

Roughly the halfway mark. Yes, rain, wind, sun, no snow but hey why not OBX you threw everything else at us.

“Do not let that bus through!” Suzanne and I are in Manteo, the high school track is within reach of our bone tired bodies. As we approach the last intersection, we both silently beg the traffic officer to let us pass before allowing the bus to cross. We cannot bear the thought of even a momentary stop. The officer feels our pain, he holds up the bus. Victory is in our sights.

This is the final installment of the marathonettes adventures in training. Thanks for coming along. Suzanne did go on to run the next OBX Marathon with no walking start to finish. Her pace was always far superior to mine. Even when we ran on the beach during Beach Pump days she always finished first. Those were the days when I would question why was I even doing this and then follow up with telling myself that no one was making me do it, so stop whining. And quit eating so much junk food. Man up girl. I did. So much so that the year following our inaugural marathon run I became an official Rock ‘n’ Roll marathon series Rock Star. Then there were only five in the series to qualify, now there are too many to count. That and related stories in future posts. Here’s my LiveJournal entry about marathon day 2006. There’s also a link to a short video Donny took. He, Bill, Becki & Katelyn sang the National Anthem at the start.

Suzanne did better at 5:56:43. And at that she was pacing with me, so next marathon we turn her loose!

We came in 1372 and 1375 out of 1517 finishers, 889 men and 628 women.

I have the best family and friends!

They sent notes, made posters, sat in the cold downpour to see me dash by, saved balloons, took pictures, raced from spot to spot to spot my progress, waved from their cars and porches, cheering cheering cheering to the end.

At the finish Donny put my medal around my neck. That was special and sweet, probably the saving thing from me throwing up. Becki and the girls rushed onto the track to walk with me. And later I soaked in a huge bubble bath in their claw footed tub. Talk about a treat.

inaugural medal

My first finisher’s medal!

Last night Donny took me to dinner with Lynda & George. I can get used to this marathon pampering. Only 26.2 more miles to the high life.

I have a cousin who has run a 3:15 marathon. And she is just in it for the fun. Son Andrew is another stellar finisher at 3:38 for his first marathon. So there are family genes for those fast twitch muscles but I did not get any. Still my time was way under the official cut off. I never did best that which usually happens with marathon runners.

I was set to in San Antonio, my last marathon to date. I was having a great run without any walking then around mile 21 I noticed a girl keep stopping to stretch her ham strings and then run a sprint to make up time. Finally she started walking. I stopped and asked her if she was okay. She admitted to under training and her ham strings were tightening up. This was her first marathon. I offered to walk with her. She accepted and later admitted that she was ready to bail out when I came along. We didn’t talk much just walked the distance side by side.

I, of course, talked but only for a while. She told me her name but I couldn’t figure it out and didn’t want to ask her to keep repeating it or even spell it so I called her Austin which is where she was from. A new lawyer. That much I did learn before I figured out she needed companionship only, no conversation. She never cut me off just minced her words. She was channelling all of her energy into getting to the end. As we approached the last mile I wanted to cut loose and run but didn’t. We were in this together. “C’mon Austin we’ve got it.” I hung back and let her finish just ahead of me. She earned it.

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How TOUGH Are You? Really

“Ouch! OUCH! Get it out! No, no. Don’t touch it!!” My hand is pushed away by young grandson, inaugural sand spur victim.

“Here let me show you how I bite them out.” I have my own sand spurs to eject. I show him my time perfected technique. He’s doubtful. I explain how he’s a real beach kid now. That’s what an encounter with sand spurs gets you. He straightens up a little. He lets me remove the trespassers. He smiles. A real beach kid!

run hill

A view of the Wright Brothers Memorial Monument from Run Hill

We’re exploring Run Hill State Park. While running my up and overs, I notice the park from the top of the monument and wonder why I never take the grands. It’s behind the schools. Very convenient. Close to home. Nobody ever seems to be there. It is an official park with signage and a split rail fence around the massive perimeter. But that’s it. No visitors’ center. No restrooms. Just lots and lots of sand and vegetation.

And now we know why. Land mines of sand spurs lurking for the unsuspecting adventurer all over the park.

It’s a beautiful place. You can see the monument well defined against the sky. If you wander far enough you can see the sound in one direction and the ocean in the other. There are tree copses. Acres of sand. And sand spurs. Not enough to halt your progress, except in a few places. But enough to cause you to be wary. Such a pretty park. So underused. Recently I have a thought about how it can come into the limelight and maybe get some funding to create a few sand spur free trails throughout.

“You know those Spartan events where the participants take on all sorts of crazy challenges?” Hilarey’s dad Robert throws out at recent family dinner, “I’ve got a really tough one for them. How about a pit full of sand spurs?” We all laugh and agree that would be the supreme challenge. Not for the feint of heart. I love it, but I’m having trouble imagining even such a sturdy soul as a Spartan taking on a pit full of sand spurs. And then on the spur of the moment it comes to me.

Sand spur plants grow low to the ground

Sand spur plant grows low to the ground

When Outer Banks Sporting Events adds a Spartan event to their calendar they can have the last challenge be a point to point barefoot sprint through a section of Run Hill. Unique to the Outer Banks. Word would spread. Sports aficionados world wide would crown it THE Challenge to beat. Call it the Sand Spurt.

Hell, they can have the whole event at Run Hill. Lots of varied terrain to work with. And in the backyard of three schools. After all OBSE supports The Education Foundation. Spurs one on to think of it!

 

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