Omaha Marathon 2008 Part 1: The Journey

(“What’s this?” “Well, I had quite an adventure on my trip to Omaha with Runner’s Edge of the Rockies, to run the marathon. I thought my friends and family might enjoy reading about it.” “Uh-huh. And what am I doing here?” “You’ll provide the color commentary and humorous insight. You’re a literary device I’ve borrowed from my father’s Christmas letters.” “’Borrowed’? That’s being charitable.” “Hey, I’m not using you for moral judgment. Just stick to the jokes, okay?”)

Early in the morning on Friday the 26th, I started my journey to Omaha for the Marathon. I met up with 17 other members of Runner’s Edge of the Rockies, as well as Coach David, for the bus ride. (“Was it Barney, the sparkly-purple monster bus with the turnaround seats and flat screen TVs you were supposed to have last year for Kansas City?” “No. Apparently Barney was having clutch problems. The funny thing is, I’d emailed Coach David the night before, asking if we were definitely getting Barney this year.” “So you jinxed it. Nice going.” “Yeah, he said the same thing.”) As the sun started to rise, we climbed into the bus and began the journey.

I spent the first hour or swapping stories with Nason, Randy, Al, Jim, and Jennifer (“Really? Don’t you only have, like, three stories to tell?” “Yes, but fortunately Jen has about a trillion-and-one.”). Then Coach David led us in introductions, including which race we were running, and which was our favorite race or run. It was a nice ice-breaker, not to mention a chance to continue to put faces to names (“You mean you still don’t know who’s who in the group? Haven’t you been running with them for two years now?” “Give me a break, will you? It’s a huge group.” “So who didn’t you know?” “I’m not gonna answer that.”)

After that we played Running Trivia. Coach David asked the questions, and whoever shouted out the most correct answers won a prize: a nice computer bag/briefcase. The questions were all over the (running) map: track and field, Olympics, marathons and half marathons. Honestly, it was a challenging game, with some really obscure questions (“Sample question intro: ‘You guys should get this one.’ ‘You know Coach, you keep saying that.’ ‘Some of these questions are hard.’ ‘SOME?!’”). Most of us were just shouting out names and numbers (“Except for Al. Boy, when it comes to random sports quotes, he’s the man.”). Al was the big winner, but disclaimed his prize, leading to a tiebreaker between Jill and Jen (“How’d you do?” “Well, I knew the answer to one, and guessed correctly on a few others. Tied with a few others.” “For what, third?” “Technically, fourth.”).

After a quick stop just past North Platte (the halfway point), we broke out “Running On The Sun,” a documentary about the Badwater Ultramarathon. (“One hundred and thirty-five miles from Badwater, Utah, to Mt Whitney in California.” “People do this? Voluntarily? For fun?”). After that we broke out “Mission Accomplished: The Jim Lynch Experience,” the video Jim made after he and his friend David finished their 50 States mission (“He’s run a marathon in every state, and is working on the second time around. Omaha will be #74.” “Is his wife going to buy him a diamond after the next one?” “Don’t give him ideas…”).

Lunch was in Kearney, at a Quiznos (“The only one in Kearney, I’ll bet.”). Then it was off to Lincoln, where we stopped at Pioneer State Park for a nice, easy taper run at 3:00 (“Along with all the high schoolers. What was that like?” “Humbling. Those kids are fast. But I think Al was enjoying himself.”). The other interesting thing about that was dealing with the almost biblical number of grasshoppers that were out there. Not to mention the heat. I just had to keep reminding myself, at least the marathon starts in the morning (“Yes, but when do you finish?” “Hopefully before 3:00.”).

We got into town at about six that evening, dropping off most of the team at the Hampton Inn before the rest of us—the “cool kids”—made our way to the Fairfield across the tracks (“’Across the tracks,’ eh?” “Yes. We were literally on the wrong side of the tracks. Very sketchy.” “Sketchy? I thought you were in Omaha, not South Central LA.”). Then, at my suggestion, it was off to the Upstream Brewery in Old Market for dinner.

I love the Upstream. Every time I’d come out to visit my sister, who was in medical school at Creighton, we’d come to the Upstream. The food can’t be beat, and the beer is terrific. And sure, due to the fact that there was a rodeo and a marathon in town that weekend (“Gee, I wonder which one got more press coverage.” “Wrong. The Huskers were playing VA Tech Saturday night. I’m surprised anyone in the state knew that there was even a Presidential Debate on Friday.”), it took about an hour to get us all seated. And sure, we were at three tables spaced apart in the main room, instead of one long one. But that still didn’t stop me from making my customary toast to the group, wishing everyone luck for Sunday (“How is something ‘customary’ if you’ve only done it twice?” “Give it time.” “I’m sure the other diners loved you for it.” “Well fortunately, I know how to work a room. And the bouncer was surprisingly gentle.”). In any event, dinner was a huge success. And I was able to connect with my sister, who had driven out to cheer me on.

Then it was back to the hotel for sleep. Since I don’t always sleep well the night before a big race, I always try to get a solid night’s rest two nights out. That wasn’t a problem here. Between surprisingly little sleep Thursday night, a looooong bus trip, a run in energy-sapping heat, and the excitement of dinner, I was asleep almost before my head hit the pillow.

Next: the Expo!

Coolest. Thing. Ever!!

(That's right, it's a non-racing blog. Don't worry, I'm gearing up for my multi-part epic later this month.)

Right after work this afternoon I drove to the large bookstore down the street. I had to buy a copy of Brad Meltzer's latest thriller, The Book of Lies, and get down to Highlands Ranch to another bookstore where he was doing a signing. I'm a big fan of Brad Meltzer. A few years ago he wrote an incredible seven-part miniseries for DC Comics entitled Identity Crisis which absolutely turned the industry upside-down. Even before the series was finished, I was hooked. Heck, after the first issue, I bought one of his novels in an airport bookstore to have something to read on the flight. I remember looking at them all, thinking they all sounded fantastic, and finally settling on The First Counsel because the opening paragraph was so arresting. Check it out and see what I mean. Within months I had bought all of his books, and now I grab the new ones as soon as they hit the shelves (in fact, last year I bought the last one when it came out, and finished reading it before my best friend had a chance to tell me that he'd bought it for me, for Christmas).

Before leaving this morning, I had also grabbed my copies of all 6 of Brad's other novels, as well as all seven parts of that comic miniseries masterpiece, Identity Crisis. I figured at the signing, if he was feeling generous, maybe I could get his autograph on some of those, as well. (This is nothing new for me: when Dragons of Summer Flame was published in 1996, I brought no less than 12 books with me to the authors' appearance at the Tattered Cover Cherry Creek.)

As I was getting in my car following my purchase, I glanced out the window and who should I see in the parking lot but Brad Meltzer himelf! I stopped the car, did a double take, rolled down my window, and called "Excuse me...are you Brad Meltzer?"

"I am," he replied.

"Holy crap!" I said. I held aloft my recent purchase. "I literally just bought this book and am on my way to your signing!"

"Oh," he said. Then, a beat later, he offered, "Would you like me to sign it now?"

I think my head exploded just a little bit at that moment. "Sure!" I stopped the car, and as he came over to shake my hand, I introduced myself. He signed The Book of Lies for me: "For Doug--this has never happened before! Really." He handed it back, and I thanked him, and then asked if he would mind signing my Identity Crisis issues. He was more than happy to, so I pulled them out of my backpack and removed them, one at a time, from their plastic bags (yes, I keep my comics in bags. None of you are surprised). While he was doing this, we chatted for a bit. He commented that my comics were all first editions ("Yeah, I don't have the patience to wait for reprints"). I told him I was glad he was signing the comics; when he was in town last year I'd seen a notice asking people to only bring books because otherwise it might take all night ("What? Who said that?" he demanded). He invited me to come down to the other bookstore for the signing anyway. I assured him that I would, pleased now that I, at least, wouldn't have to stand in line afterwards.

(By the way, it took me some time to find a copy in that first bookstore. They seemed unaccountably to have disappeared, which was odd since there'd been a huge pile of them yesterday. I deduced later that the reason I couldn't find any copies of The Book of Lies, and the reason Brad Meltzer happened to be at that exact same bookstore at that exact same time, was that he was in the store signing them so they could stick an "Autographed Copy" sticker on the cover.)

As we parted company and I got back into my car, the most flattering part of the encounter happened. As I pulled out, I heard him calling my name again. "Doug! The Doug!" I stopped. He pointed at my car--specifically at my personalized license plate. "The Doug! Is that in your email?"

"Yes," I said. "It's in my signature."

"I've gotten an email from you!" I was more than impressed (and, again, flattered). Sure, it's a distinctive nickname, that's why I use it; but here's a big-time, New York Times Bestselling author with millions of fans and god knows how many email correspondents, and I think I sent him one tiny email once, and he remembers. That's awesome. Tell me that's not awesome!

I went to the signing. I listened to Brad read from the new book, and talk about comics, and his campaign to save the House Where Superman Was Born, and his newest TV show pitch. I watched the crowd (several with armloads of comics--Identity Crisis, Justice League of America, Green Arrow) line up. I jumped in quickly to shake his hand one last time and thank him for his kindness and autographs and say good-bye. I even spent some time chatting up the cute blonde who was his media escort. All in all, it was an awesome evening.

But nothing can top the afternoon's random, lightning-strike meeting in the bookstore parking lot.

Park to Park 10-mile 2008

"Wow, Doug. You're just setting PR's right and left!"

That was friend and fellow Runner's Edge of the Rockies member Kelly commenting on my 1:33:54 finish at the Park to Park this year. And it sure seems that way. Every major race I've run this year (anything over a 10k), I've set a PR. Heck, I set a half-marathon PR in March, and beat that last month!

I'd had a very good feeling about this race for some time. I knew I'd be able to beat my last 10-mile race time, from the Garden of the Gods back in June, if only because I wouldn't be dealing with the altitude or steep climbing! And I felt pretty confident about beating my time from February's Snowman Stampede (which, come to think of it, was a PR--it was, after all, my first 10-mile race!). I'd slept pretty solid on Saturday night and rested for the whole day Sunday, and was ready for a solid Monday morning race, even though I didn't sleep too well Sunday night.

I arrived at the start line on 23rd street ready to go. I saw and chatted with several RER friends and some others, wishing everybody a good race. I'd taken about a half-mile warmup jog down 23rd, so I knew what I was dealing with for the start of the race: yet another downhill first mile! (Maybe that's been my secret...) I'd have to hold back. That's always been my weakness, but I think I'm getting better at it. I covered the first mile along 23rd in 10:12, very close to the 10:00 I'd set for myself.

After turning south onto Race and then back east along 21st, we found ourselves back in City Park proper. Now, I'm not really a fan of running through City Park. I still have bad memories about having been detoured for an extra half mile during the Colfax Marathon in 2007. Fortunately that was not an issue here, as the course had been mapped out by RaceMeasure and laid out that morning by volunteers who knew what they were doing.

(As a side note, there is a disclaimer on the course map, available on the race website: "RaceMeasure has measured the course following USAT&F guidelines, and stands by the certification. However, RaceMeasure does not set out the course on race-day [sic], and is not responsible for courses not set out precisely according to this map." Ha!)

So we ran through City Park, past the statues of Marcus Aurelius and Martin Luther King Jr and then down to 17th. At the end of 3 miles I was sitting at 30:05, right on schedule. For the next 3 I picked up the pace to 9:30. I ran down Elizabeth St, turning west on 11th and heading into Cheeseman Park. The Irish Snug Running Club runs around Cheeseman, so I'm used to that park. But then, I usually run it fresh, not after having covered better than 4 miles. And let me tell you, that makes a difference! The climbs into and out of Cheeseman felt surprisingly steep! Actually, going south on Elizabeth was about the worst of it, just a steady climb for most of that mile. To make matters even worse, the aid station set at the corner of 11th and Elizabeth was out of water! Just when a refreshing mouthful would have been most welcome.

Seeing my dad at the mile 5 mark coming down through Cheeseman was a huge boost, as was the (fully stocked) at station right there. I faced another climb up 9th Ave, and was through the worst of it, hillwise. I saw my dad again at the mile 6 mark (amazingly, he'd covered the distance in record time, but he probably took a shortcut). "See you at the finish!" I called as I ran past, now pushing myself to a 9-minute pace which I knew I could hold for the rest of the race.

At mile 7 the course turned south on Downing. This was familiar territory for me, thanks to Runner's Edge (actually the whole course is familiar--a big chunk of the Denver Marathon covers almost the exact same layout). At the aid station I heard a female voice call out, "Nice job, Doug!" Unfortunately, I was so focused on my running that I'm not entirely sure who it was--I was already moving past by the time my brain registered the fact that I'd heard my name. Whoever it was--I'm sorry! Let me make it up to you by buying you dinner.

Then after one last climb, it was on to Washington Park for the final 2 miles. Coming into the park I could see and hear the excitement and noise coming from the finish line. My dad was there, too, cheering for me. I held on to my pace for mile 9, and opened it up for the last mile. I finished the last mile in 8:30, including a nice strong kick over the last quarter mile. I met up with my dad at the end, and then stayed for a bit to cheer on and chat with some RER friends. Then it was home for a shower and nap--probably the best part of any race day, followed closely by a tall glass of cold chocolate milk. Which, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to try to track down...