I picked him up from Rosslyn on Saturday, and so began what will be one of the most sanfu-riddled two days I think I've experienced. Thanks to NDH (and at times me too) for keeping his cool and rolling with it all. Roadblocks included, it was still a fun weekend! I'm not nearly as good at writing recaps to races, but here is my (lengthy) account of how the MCM weekend went down for me.
The short version is, Nathanael ran a fantastic race, I had a wonderful day cheering him and other runners on throughout the city of DC, my phone died, there were some metro complications, and meeting up at the end of the race was tricky - for the more dramatic details and some photos, read on!
We decided to go immediately to the marathon expo for packet pick up, and from there we'd do lunch. Let's call this "mistake #1". We arrived to the Armory to see lines of people, lines of people circling other lines of people, followed by more lines of people. We ended up in that line for almost 90 minutes, trying to get through to simply pick up the race number. Then there were more lines to get in to the expo. I'm still not entirely sure what the problem was, but I know this was not the MCM original plan for how the expo would go. By the time we were done with that, and found ourselves a Subway to eat lunch, it was 4pm. Not ideal for pre-race day meal planning. Particularly when we left lunch to head over to DuPont circle for NDH's St Jude Charity Team's pasta dinner at 5pm. Even though the timing was all off for this, I was really glad that we got to go. We sat with some nice women, made small talk, and got to hear from some St. Jude's families. Besides being a little emotional, I think this was a nice way to refocus some of the stress that the rest of the day had introduced. From here we finally made it to N's hotel by around 7, so that he could start to prepare, make a logistical plan, and get to bed.
Once I left him, happily watching the Sox game, I had a few more "Epic Cheer Squad" stops to make before getting home, and devising my own logistical plan! Shout out to CNHB who helped with some last minute interpretations of the rules. (Turns out, we were wrong though!)
I woke up on Sunday morning, a little sleepy, but was quickly ready to go thanks to some pre-outfit selection the day before. I agreed to wear N's new white Chicago hat and my BAA Boston Marathon bright orange windbreaker for easiest spot-ability! N was all decked out in blue and maroon, and on his way to the Charity tents to meet his team. I drove over to his hotel, probably 45 minutes after he left, parked, and made my way to my Mile 2 spot. N definitely didn't NEED to see me at mile 2, but it was an easy place for me to get to, and would be a fun spot for me to get to see all the lead runners, which I was able to do!! I remember thinking that I was glad to have brought my phone charger (I brought the one working cord I have, the wall charger, and the car adapter - mostly because I accidentally took it out of my car with me), although my phone was still at a healthy 95% by now.
I pulled out my signs and cowbell and got ready for the runners to come. However, when I picked up my cowbell I noticed that sadly, it was already broken, and missing the clacker inside. A few minutes later and I had MacGuyvered the bell with an old house key, and was ready to make some noise! I saw N come up, all smiles and looking great. Save for the guy in front of him who tried to steal his high-five (I'm pretty sure high-fives are not a limited resource, though), this is probably the best race interaction N and I will have all day, at least from my standpoint. I stayed here for a little while, took some more photos, chatted with the spectators.
It was at this point as I was getting everything loaded back in to my back pack that I am vaguely aware of someone shouting "Charm City, Charm City, Who are you?" I realize, slowly, that I am wearing a sweatshirt that has a charm city logo on the back and a runner is trying to get my attention. When I turn she says "are you with Charm City?" And I struggle to answer. I run with them, or did until the running group ended when everyone ran the Baltimore Marathon. And also, I no longer live in Baltimore. But, also, I am not an employee there. After a small pause, I say "No", at almost the same time she throws me her long sleeved shirt asking if I can get it to them for her. And she's off. And, I now have her shirt! I was able to contact one of my friends who is a store manager at Charm City, who told me they didn't even have a tent at the end of this race. I was sure that there was no way this was going to work out, but I ran in to someone else wearing a Charm City shirt and tried to pawn my unwanted responsibility to her. Turns out, she knew the person running, and happily took the shirt. Problem solved. Let's call this "helpful moment #1" for the day!
As I went to update the rest of Team NDH via text, my phone shut itself off. A moment of panic, before I just asked a pleasant looking spectator to point me in the direction of the metro, and I was off to figure this out. I spied a coffee shop near the metro, so I ducked in, plugged my phone in and used the restroom. After about 15 minutes my phone was safely to 60%, and I was off to Foggy Bottom, where I was pretty sure I would almost miss NDH at mile 10 at this point.
When I got off the metro I had finally gotten the first 10K text message about N's progress, and doing some quick math I realized that I was not too late. I broke in to a sprint to get from the metro stop to the mile 10 race course location, and made it with maybe 10 minutes to spare. I was standing next to a little girl who asked her dad "Why does she (meaning me) get a bell and I don't?" So, I turned to her and asked her if she'd like to "help me cheer for the runners and ring this bell for a little while?" I made sure to tell her dad that the bell had my key in it and I would, unfortunately, need it back! She seemed happy for a few minutes, until she started asking when her mom was going to get there already?! At this point the 3:15 pace group went by and her dad said "the next set of balloons and we'll see mommy!" The little girl was not nearly as impressed as I was, so I told her that she should "ring your bell really loud, because you're mommy is doing AWESOME!" From then on she periodically yelled out "My mommy is doing awesome!" I felt like my work at Mile 10 was almost done! And then I saw N kickin' it around the corner. He was looking fast, not surprisingly, and I got a thumbs up, got some good cheering in, and he threw his gloves off for me to take. And then he was gone. I managed two shots of him running all day, from behind, because he's too fast for me!
After he goes by, I know I have time. It's about 2 miles for me to get to mile 19, and 9 miles for him. I can beat him for sure! So I meander along, past the memorials, stopping to see the Marine Corps band, and following the race course at various points. My phone is currently down to about 14% and so I switch it to airplane mode, and put it in my pocket. Consulting my paper course map I know that I need to cross the course a few times to be in position at mile 19, for easy access to the metro I will be using to race N to mile 23. While making my way there I am on the lookout for any power source I can find. I happen to be crossing the course at mile 15, and see one of the pace groups slightly ahead of N come through. I decide to hang out (on the wrong side of the course, N and I had agreed on the left) and surprise him at mile 15! I see him coming, in the lead line of the 3:35 pace group, a group that he was slightly in front of earlier. I am instantly concerned that he will think I am skipping out on mile 19 (emergency bean hand off) and am unsure of what to do! I scream for him, jumping and cheering. I get a mildly excited thumbs up, and then I think to yell "I'll see you at mile 19!!" and get a thumbs up response! Great communication team! And I'm headed to mile 19.
This part of the course is confusing, because it loops back on itself, and I'm having trouble rectifying the direction of the runners with the spot on the course. I ask several spectators and police officers along the way, and there is not a strong consensus that we know where we are. In fact, one officer definitely tells me to head the complete wrong direction. I'm glad that there are so many large visual cues on the mall to make me confident I was heading the right way - I just didn't know where along the course I was! I find a short cut up to mile 20, and I watch some people starting out their "beat the bridge" endeavor. This course has a bridge that reopens to traffic at a certain time. Runners must be across the bridge by that time, or they are instantly shuttled to the end (and will not complete the course or receive a medal). I know this aspect of a marathon does not even register on N's mind, but these cutoffs are generally my biggest anxiety producers. I am slow enough to sometimes wonder if I will make it. So, I enjoyed the stress-free attitude of the front-running speedsters who had beaten the bridge by 5 or so hours! Strong work runners!
I have no pictures from this part of my day, because my phone has now died and there are no public outlets along the mall. I find my way to mile 19, and make sure I know exactly where the metro stop that I will need is. I try and position myself adequately where I have 1.) easy access to the course, 2.) some visibility of runners coming 3.) convenient and fast exit to the metro station 4.) far enough beyond the food stop that is unfortunately at mile 19 and 5.) not so close to mile 20 that N will spend an entire mile wondering if I've ditched him. I successfully find a near perfect spot, and am only there waiting for a short time. The crowd here is cheerful, but less talkative than at the other spots. I see the 3:35 group come and go, and am on the lookout for N. As he approaches there is some confusion with a nearby runner, as I think N tries to navigate his way to the sideline. I decide I can run along with N for a second to make bean hand off easier, and not force him to stand and talk to me. As I start doing this, N asks if we can walk for a second, and I can see that he's having a rough time. He's completely soaked with sweat, but freezing. I will berate myself for the next 45 minutes for not offering him my windbreaker, telling him that he can just toss it when he's done with it. He does not want the beans, and he's feeling pretty low. I know that place, and I try and talk him out of it, but I'm not doing a great job at it. He decides to run off, and I leave feeling like I've failed at my one job, to cheer him, because he was not more cheerful when he left. I turned around, and ran as fast as I could back to the spot where I had mistakenly left my backpack on the ground. I am filled with fear, not of it being stolen, but that everyone around me will think I am some crazy person leaving a bag at the side of a marathon with evil-intent. In a course of events that will play out several times for the rest of the day, when I am reunited with my bag it is apparent that I was the only one who was moderately stressed or even aware of this problem, but I will dwell on it for some time.
I'm estimating N at 8:30 splits now, and he has 4 miles to get to mile 23 where I'd like to see him next. That's a short 34 minutes, and I've got a 4 stop metro ride. I hustle to L'Enfant Plaza, and realize that there is a food court/mall section, and I decide to seek out one more outlet and use a restroom. I will regret this decision for hours as well. But, I find a restroom, plug my phone in and get it back to 20%. Another update to Ns family and some pictures, and I'm rushing back towards the metro. While on the train I see the runners crossing the bridge, and am hopeful that N is on it. Even though logic and math tell me he must be well beyond the bridge now. I try to use this time wisely, checking my map to make sure I know which way I need to take off running to catch him. I'm extra concerned to meet him now, having seen the low at mile 19, I really don't want to miss him. I don't want him looking for me, or worse needing the beans he refused, or wanting to hand off his hat, or otherwise needing something I should have been there to do. I remember vividly mile 23 in both Baltimore and Nashville, and neither are a happy place for me. We arrive at Crystal City and I am off, running up the escalator, sprinting down the street to the course. I ask the first spectator I see "have you seen a pace group come by?" He gives the best answer of the 4 people I ask here and says "3:45 came by about 5 minutes ago." If he's right I've missed N by about 10 minutes, and need to think quickly. I rush back to the metro more determined than ever to make it to mile 26, to at least cheer him in. But, the metro says that the next train is 20+ minutes away. This won't do. I speak to the station manager to have her let me out (my metro card is currently tagged as "in" and I can't exit the same station) and I'm back to the street with a plan of getting outside the race course and either finding a cab, getting to the end on foot, something faster than waiting 20 minutes. But, miles 22 and 23 create a rectangular space, and the Crystal City metro stop is dead center. And here, at this point, there is absolutely no crossing the course at all. But, it takes me about 10 minutes of sprinting in all directions like a pinball in a pinball machine to realize there is no way out. As I am about to give up I see someone on the course, on the far side of the road, has collapsed and is on the ground. Someone is with him and trying to help, but it's unclear to me whether the situation is under control. It appears the helping runner could use some extra hands. I yell over to ask if they need more help, but he seems too busy to answer, so I decide on the answer for him. I quickly find a marine, who calls to the nearest aid station and assures me that someone will be on their way to take care of it. And, I head back into the Crystal City station, and sit with a billion other people on a metro bound for Rosslyn. With a once-again dead phone.
The metro is mobbed, people are going in every direction, trains are full, no one is cooperating, and everyone is in a rush to get somewhere. It's near complete chaos. Once I'm at Rosslyn I see all the gear check trucks, plenty of finishers laying on the ground stretching, sleeping, recooping, and I spy a coffee shop. I duck in, plug my phone in at a corner outlet, leave my bag under the watchful eye of a stranger and head to the restroom and buy myself a drink. This takes about 10 minutes, and when I get to my phone it is still off. As if nothing has happened. I wait a little longer, impatiently, and after 20 total minutes in a few outlets, nothing has happened. I head off to find the Charity Hill Tent where N is. I see some white tents and a sign that says Charity Street and I ask at the first one if this is the only place where charity tents are located, she says "yes" (she's wrong) and I ask where the St Jude's tent is, she says "they don't have one" (she is wrong again). I find another tent that has accurate information, where I learn that the charity hill is almost as far away as possible, that I can't get there with my back pack, and that in her outlet (which is known to work) my phone still won't work. I decide that wandering around, what is now easily 45 minutes after NDH has finished without a phone, and without knowing where he really is is a TERRIBLE idea. This woman allows me to use her phone and I send a typo-riddled email (who knows how to type on an android anyway) to N, CNHB and SMB, and tell them that I'm trying to get a hold of N, my phone is not working, and I'm not sure I should wander around looking for N without being able to get in touch with him. I say that I am located at the gear check truck #7 and N should come find me. I also realize this is not an adequate solution, but I move on. I find a second generous stranger, and I call my mom (one of the few cell phone numbers I know by heart) and am able to speak to my dad to ask him to try and get N's phone number so that I can call back in about 10 minutes and he can give it to me. If my brain were less panicked I'd have remembered that my mom has a whole slew of phone numbers from Nashville that would be useful. But, my brain is full of "why didn't you give him your jacket", "how bad was it that you weren't at mile 23", "is he as disappointed as you were that no one was there at the finish", "is that guy who collapsed ok", "how have you made it all morning without eating", "why is my phone broken"? What seems like an eternity later, I find another stranger who will let me use their phone, and I call my dad back. he has N's number, and I feel like the day might be saved. I manage to call N, and tell him that it will take me forever to get to him, and I may not be able to get there because of my backpack, but that I'm on the way.
I fight crowds, fences, wrong turns, misinformation, and the kindness of a Marine who helps me to disguise my backpack (after he hand checked it himself) so that I can enter the Charity Hill area, and I arrive to the St. Judes tent to some cheers from people who had been waiting with N. I was so happy to see him, and so proud of the way he finished Rocktober!! And still, feeling terrible for the way the day ended. But, it's not over yet. An hour later, after being stuck inside a military base with no obvious exit, seeing our hotel from the wrong side of a fence that we can't climb over, and crossing a few high ways on foot, we are finally back to my car and Ns suitcase. Out of habit I plugged my phone car charger into my car, and instantly hear the little bing noise indicating that my phone has turned on. I resist the urge of throwing the phone out the window right then.
In what is hopefully the last misstep of the day, every way out that we want to take from Arlington is closed, and we end up heading east through the city to take 495 the long way home to Bethesda. Some major traffic reminds both of us that we are starving, and yelp finds a perfectly acceptable sports bar where we catch the end of the Pats game, enjoy some deliciously fried foods and sandwiches, and I am finally able to buy the runner his celebratory beer! 4 hours too late!
NDH is a rockstar runner, who kicked October's ass. And, was a super sport to handle my lackluster cheer abilities as the day's events got completely out of my control. I think he went home happy, I'm still a bit traumatized!!
