Atlanta

We LOVE Atlanta! We love the whole city, as well as Peach Tree City, where our dear friends from Los Angeles now live. We love the trees and the colors and the cold air and the kids in the leaves! We love the large houses with huge backyards, and the homey home town feeling here. WE love the golf cart rides around town and the zip line from the trees, and we love the fall colors! Did I say that already??? And, we loved running through Atlanta. It was a beautiful (although hugely hilly) course!The trees here are unlike any I have seen...they are bright red and orange and yellow. The leaves falling on the course today were falling as if in slow motion, and I would put my hands up to catch them.

Marc and I met up with Dr. George and his lovely wife, Lori, this morning. We dropped Marc off at his half marathon start (he only ran the half since this was his warm up race before his marathon in Jacksonville in 3 weeks), which began at our marathon turn around point. We left him in the dark and then hurried to get to our starting line, with time to spare.

George and I started at 7:30, 30 minutes after the half went off. I could not believe how few people were in the marathon. I have never run a marathon in which I could actually see the race start. It was amazing. Apparently only 700 people run the full, but several thousand run the half. I guess with the holiday, most people prefer to get home to family sooner. I wondered how Marc was doing, 30 minutes into his race. He was hoping for a 1:18 today, but we later realized how lofty that goal was with the rain and hills and wind. There George and I stood at that start, as it began to pour rain....a cold, miserable rain.

"George! I hate rain! I hate running in the rain!" I tell him.
George, ever steady, very quiet in his doctor-like measure of calm says, "Don't worry. It never rains here like it does in Florida. It won't come down in droves. It will blow out as quickly as it came in and we will be fine."

The gun went off and off we went. I let him go immediately, knowing he is a consistent 3:30 marathoner and knowing I did not want to try to keep his pace. I told him I am a loner when I run, anyway, and do not like to have to chat the whole way. He was in my sight for most of the first 7 miles, simply because there were not many people on the road in front of me, Honestly, I did not even look at my watch through the miles. For one thing, I loved that not every mile was marked. In the beginning, there were only mile markers every 2 or 3 miles. This was so great, because I did not agonize over the them and count my way down so intently. Another reason I did not check my watch really at all, I woke up and decided I was going to have fun today and not care about the time. I really wanted to finish enjoying the run and I did just that. Lastly, with the rain coming down (Florida style), I couldn't really read the numbers anyway, so why bother?

Anyway, around mile 7, I passed George and yelled at him to come with me. He said his legs were tired. The hills were relentless and I was not at all prepared for just how many there really were. My quads were tired, too, at that point, and I knew it would be a long day. Anyway, I knew George was not far behind, and when I got to the 13 mile turn around, I saw just hold closely he was running behind me. At this point, I did read my watch and it read 1:46 and I thought, "Oh, that's going to hurt later." Some guy who was volunteering told me I was the fifth woman to come through. I hate that he even told me that. I was running so blissfully until that pressure-filled thought. Another hill on the way back out of the turn around. Really, the hills were never-ending. I think George dropped back, because I waited for him at the next water station, but I could not see him coming. Miles 14 and 15 came and went and I still felt okay, trudging ahead....in the rain.

I had had to pee for many miles, so around mile 16, I finally came to a port-a-potty and went in. As I came out, George passed me and I ran in his shadow for a while. He was walking through the water stations, I realized, but I began falling off whatever pace I had been running and lost sight of him. I was desperate for the rain to stop because I was freezing and miserable. My shorts were heavy with water and I could now hear the squish, squish, squish of George's loud feet ahead of me.

Mile 17, I came through a water station and took some Jelly Beans, and out of the port-a-potty in front of me came George. He signed to me that he was done with his hands. I asked him how he felt and he told me his legs were done, that his tires fell off. I told him to come with me and we would just take it one mile at a time. We hung like that until mile 20. We ran in silence with only the "Squish, squish" of his feet, heavy on the wet pavement.

"Where is the water, George??? I need water! I am ready to lick a puddle!" (Did I mention that it was still raining? It rained consistently through mile 18, and then it was intermittent showers from there) I was getting desperate. If I have one complaint about this race, it was that the water stations were not spaced out properly. We would go for miles without any support, then there would be 2 water stations within 3/4 of a mile of each other.

"Water is coming...I think at the bottom of this hill." he told me. George is useless. He was trying to be positive, but I knew he was lying to me in his even tone. We got to the bottom of the long hill that beat up my quads and then around the corner, but no water. I was dying. Then, I saw it....it was like a beam of hope....the water station just before the huge climb they call "Cardiac Hill" just before mile 21. That is where George and I parted ways and that is where I hung it up. I was so done. I didn't care at all what the clock said...I wanted to crawl to the finish. But it was George who told me he was going to fall off and take it easy up the hills to the finish....yes, there were hills all the way to the finish. He started walking and I was in shock. This is the man who never gives in, never gives up and never quits. He is the Hero of Vero, he made the Vero Beach Times Magazine as one of "Vero's 40 most influential people" and here he was walking. He must have been hurting. I started Cardiac Hill slowly, hoping he would get me, but I tired of looking over my shoulder, since I was so exhausted, and I had to keep moving my feet.

Miles 22, and 23 were not memorable. I was hurting and I just wanted to get up that endless hill to the finish. Marc jumped in at mile 24 and that brought mixed emotions for me. I was elated to see him, but knew I would have to keep running and all I wanted to do was stop. My legs were absolutely cooked. The hills got me and they got me in a serious way. Marc went 1:20 in his race, which is great, knowing the head wind and the hills were against us. I was so proud and happy for him.

I walked through the water station at 24 and took some more beans. I felt like I had to vomit and that was not a good feeling, knowing I had 2 more miles to go. More uphill and it was like a bad dream. We finally made it to mile 25 and past the Capitol....and, another hill. At least the rain had stopped. We marched on and Marc kept saying, "Come on Pea, you look so strong. Take the Ironman in front of you." I didn't care about the man with the Ironman tattoo and shaved legs, but I did pass him anyway. The last 800 was downhill, but it was not even a welcome thing. It hurt and my legs were so sad. Ironmand passed me right at the finish. George was still nowhere behind me and I wondered how he was feeling. Not good for a 3:30 marathoner, since I came across the line and heard his wife yelling for me, waiting for him. I am sure she was surprised I came in before he did. 3:46 and I was thrilled to death. I actually felt good, minus my "barfy tummy" as the kids call it and my numb legs. I was cold, wet, frigid, and in need of a shower. I had not been this cold or with this kind of quad pain since Boston in 2000. I did not expect that at all. In the end, I finished 9th woman overall and 3rd in my age group. Apparently most of us finished around the 3:40ish mark, according to my hubby.

We waited for George. He made it in 3:55, shaking his tired head. Marc handed him a Diet Coke and he drank it immediately. That brought him new life and then we headed out back to the house for Thanksgiving Dinner. When we got home, the house smelled wonderful and kids were happy. What a great day. We are loving our time here.