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!